Spring at Pancake Bay

This is one of my favorite shots from Memorial weekend. Taken on Sunday evening, there were some really nice clouds at sunset that night. After the sun went down we could hear thunder rumbling in the distance and as darkness fell over the lake a nice little lightning show was visible out on the horizon. After the two previous evenings which were very dismal shooting conditions (rain and gray, cloudy skies), Sunday evening more than made up for it with some of the most spectacular spring sunset clouds I've ever seen. The island on the left is called Pancake Island, and the one in the distance is called Blueberry Island. My buddy Roger refers to them as "The Breakfast Islands" (think blueberry pancakes!).

Gunks Routes: Blistered Toe (Direct 5.9+) & Double Crack (5.8)

(Photo: Gail getting started on Higher Stannard (5.9-).)



A pattern has started to develop.



I go to the Gunks.



I pick a 5.10 to try.



I struggle.



I back off of that 5.10 and do something else.



At the beginning of July this was what happened when I decided to try Simple Stuff (5.10a) with Gail. It was a super-hot, miserable day. We had planned on just doing a half day and had started early to beat the heat, doing the first pitch of Higher Stannard (5.9-) at 6:30 a.m.



I really enjoyed doing Higher Stannard again. It was one of my favorites last year and it was just as good the second time around. It was a little stiff for a warm-up but I cruised through the thin crux, feeling strong. It seemed like a good omen.



Then we trooped on down the cliff to Simple Stuff.



It is an unusual climb for the Gunks. It is no jug-haul, but rather features a sustained stemming corner. It is one of those climbs people mention as a good early 5.10, I think because there is pro available in the corner almost the whole way to the chains. Others, however, think it is a bad choice for an early 5.10 because it is sustained, and because people have gotten hurt when they have fallen in the initial moves, cracking ankles before getting established in the corner.






(Photo: The overhanging corner ascended by Simple Stuff (5.10a).)



I didn't get very far. Climbing up to the first difficult moves, I was very careful to place pro often. I got through a hard move and found the position very pumpy. I had a solid nut but I wanted to place something higher up before committing to the next bit. Unfortunately I could not get anything I had real confidence in. I tried getting another nut but I couldn't make it stick. Then I tried a small C3, eventually working it into a crack but not feeling really happy about it. By this point I had worn myself out and took a hang. The C3 creaked a bit, which was disconcerting. I did not relish the thought of taking a fall onto it.



It was suddenly so hot outside. I was drenched with sweat. This climb was just beginning and I was already struggling, climbing scared, very tentative. I wasn't at all sure I was ready for this.



I decided this wasn't my time for Simple Stuff. I left the bomber nut as insurance and downclimbed to the ground.






(Photo: Happy to have finally cleared the bulge on Blistered Toe Direct (5.9+).)



Still hoping to wring some progress from the day, I suggested to Gail that we do the nearby Blistered Toe Direct, a climb which had defeated me last year. I had tried it with Parker, making the first hard move up to the horizontal. But I hadn't found a way to get over the bulge that completes the direct start.



This time I hoped to get it done. And eventually I did. But not without a few false starts.



Depending on your height, the direct start has either one or two hard moves. If you are short like me, it is a challenge just to step up onto the wall and reach a good crimp that will allow you to reach up to the good horizontal. If you are tall, I envy you because you can just reach the crimp or maybe even the horizontal from the ground. Whether you are tall or short, you can protect the first move with a great nut placed over your head from the ground. (Clip it short by just placing a single biner on the nut.) Then you can get a good cam once you reach the horizontal.



The next move is what still gave me trouble. A pebbly ball of rock looks good but is very hard to use effectively. I struggled with it a couple of times before a little advice from Gail on turning my body and getting my feet up got me to the breakthrough.



Finally! I could put this 5.9+ in the bank. Next time I hope it will seem easy.



This direct start is a worthwhile little puzzle, I think, and the payoff is that the rest of the first pitch of Blistered Toe is awesome. It isn't a long pitch but it is steep and fun, with some nice layback moves and reaches up a natural line to a ledge with a bolted anchor off to the left. Considered without the direct start, Blistered Toe is one of the better 5.7 climbs in the Trapps, I'd say. And the direct start makes it even better. It is an under-appreciated small gem.



After we were done with Blistered Toe, Gail suggested Double Crack, a climb I had led once back in . I thought it was great back then and nothing about my experience in changed my opinion. Back in the day people would do a belay at a small ledge part of the way up the cliff but nowadays most everyone does the climb as one sustained 150 foot pitch. The hardest part comes early, in the first 20 feet, but even though the angle thereafter eases off a touch, it remains steep and consistent the whole way to the finish. Classic Gunks-style climbing, with overhanging reaches between good holds.



I wouldn't recommend Double Crack when it is nearly 100 degrees out, however. It seemed to go on and on. At one point Gail told me that I was glistening in the sun, I was sweating so much. I think I lost several pounds of water weight on this climb.



As we left the cliff I questioned whether we really should have come out at all. Climbing in the miserable heat can get you down. After just half a day I was exhausted and happy to call it quits.

Switzer Land :: Jacob buys it back from Daniel and Susan Deemer

On February 10, 1847 Jacob Switzer and Catharine, his wife, sold their property in Salem Township, situated in the South ½ of the Northeast ¼ of Section 33, to their son-in-law Daniel Deemer, with certain provisions.



Catharine Switzer passed away on March 6, 1852 and just over a year later, Jacob married Leathy Bricker, on March 10, 1853.



A month later, on April 11, 1853 Daniel Deemer and his wife Susan, sold the same land they had purchased in 1847 to Jacob Switzer for $2200.



Did Catharine's death and Jacob's subsequent marriage null the original contract, which provided certain benefits to the survivor of them including the house where they lived? Perhaps Daniel (or more likely his wife, Susan) decided that they didn't want to provide for a step-mother? Regardless of what the reason was, which we will never know, the land returned to Jacob in a rather straight-forward transaction.





Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 48, bottom of page 251 (FHL Film 926951)



Columbiana County, Ohio Deeds Volume 48 page 252 (FHL Film 926951)

My picks for Queen’s Day in Utrecht

Sunday night and feeling a bit lethargic (in other words, lazy), we agreed not to head off to the Koninginnenacht (Queen’s Night) festivities in Utrecht. But this morning, we managed to move our bums and joined Utrecht for Koninginnedag (Queen’s Day, 30 April). This is a yearly nationwide event in celebration of the Queen’s birthday here in the Netherlands.

So what’s in store during this day? Street party, live music, stage shows, lots of drinking, dressing up in orange, spontaneous street acts and selling junk, well anything really.

Here’s my picks for Queen’s Day in Utrecht:

Little Miss Dutch Maid in the prairie.

Selling junk.

Like in most cities in the Netherlands during Queen's Day, there are designated areas and streets that one can sell their (used) wares. And well, some even offer blind date matching services.

Selling manicure services as well.

Dyed orange hair and a Netherlands flag boa are popular outfits for the day.

It was the first time in many years that it didn't rain during Queen's Day. 20C! These macho tattooed guys are definitely enjoying the day.

Street games - you hit the button and the girl in bikini goes down the tub of water.

'Zin in een vluggertje?' literally means 'Want a quickie (sex)?' but this one means a quickie chess game =)

I know, I know... I am almost 42 (in a few weeks) and I should not be wearing outfits like this. Just trying to be trendy for a day since I have no orange to wear. I don't think I will wear something like this next year.

I love this umbrella and I found a cocktail stall! Finally mojitos!

This man is just so cool. Orange bra is it.

Doing the rumba. Cuba here I come (in 2 weeks!).

Hollow Man has gone orange.

Boating is popular during Queen's Day. Unlike in Utrecht, in Amsterdam it gets hectic on the canals (read: boat traffic).

Best in channelling 'Oranje' and 'Nederland'.

'Hi, I am Miss Netherlands and we have lots of tulips!'

Best in creativity: Orange eyelashes for the win!

Live music of course. They are in every corner. Can you imagine the noise blaring from every corner, I mean everywhere? I am so getting old.

This man is brave enough to wear a (orange) ribbon on his head.

More boating fun on Utrecht's Oudegracht.

We didn’t stay long in Utrecht. Like I always say in this blog—we are getting old.

We don’t appreciate large crowds anymore. The noise is unbearable. It was nice for the first few hours though but after that I just want to escape and be back in the comforts of home. If you are young and reading this, you’ll understand when you get to our age.

I hope you enjoyed the pictures!

Visit Period: April

Hovenweep :: Square Tower Group

I found Hovenweep National Monument to be a fascinating place. Viewing the multi-storied towers perched on the canyon rims and balanced on boulders, I was amazed by the structures and by the people who had built them. Experts at masonry and engineering, the builders used the rock slabs for foundations and the walls of the structures were laid down over the uneven surfaces, rising, in some cases, to heights of several stories.

Why were they built on the rocks? Why were they built in a variety of shapes – squares, ovals, circles, and D-shaped? What was the purpose of the buildings? What happened to their builders?

According to literature from the National Park Service:

The towers of Hovenweep were built by ancestral Puebloans, a sedentary farming culture that occupied the Four Corners area from about A.D. 500 to A.D. 1300. Similarities in architecture, masonry and pottery styles indicate that the inhabitants of Hovenweep were closely associated with groups living at Mesa Verde and other nearby sites.

The ancestral Puebloans prepared their land for cultivation much like farmers do today. They created terraces on hillsides, formed catch basins to hold storm run-off, and built check dams to retain topsoil that would otherwise wash away. Storage granaries under the canyon rims protected harvests of corn, beans and squash for later use.

Many theories attempt to explain the use of the buildings at Hovenweep. The striking towers might have been celestial observatories, defensive structures, storage facilities, civil buildings, homes or any combination of the above. While archeologists have found that most towers were associated with kivas (Puebloan ceremonial structures), their actual function remains a mystery.

By the end of the 13th century, it appears a prolonged drought, possibly combined with resource depletion, factionalism and warfare, forced the inhabitants of Hovenweep to depart. Though the reason is unclear, ancestral Puebloans throughout the area migrated south to the Rio Grande Valley in New Mexico and the Little Colorado River Basin in Arizona. Today's Pueblo, Zuni and Hopi people are descendants of this culture.

The Square Tower Group, located in and around Little Ruin Canyon, which is a short walk from the visitors center, has the largest collection of ancestral Puebloan structures at Hovenweep. The remains of nearly thirty kivas have been discovered as well as a variety of other structures. They think that it is possible that as many as 500 people occupied the Square Tower area between A.D. 1200 and 1300.

The Stronghold House as seen from across the the canyon, from the south side.

These are the same two buildings in the previous photo, taken from a slightly different angle. Using the zoom distorts and compresses the view somewhat.

Two towers, looking northwest.

The same two towers, looking northeast.

Detail showing the stonework.

Hovenweep House, the largest structure in the area, along with several outbuildings. As seen from the south side of the canyon.

Hovenweep House, on the edge of the canyon. Looking to the east.

The Square Tower. Perched on a boulder, at the bottom of the west end of the canyon.

Ruins Canyon, looking east. The two towers are just below the rim of the canyon near the center of the picture. Several other structures dot the landscape, almost blending in with the boulders.

Photographs taken on May 19, ...

How I Tried to Go Skating

As part of my commute I often take a shortcut through the back of Harvard Yard, and some time around early December a mysterious construction site appeared there. At first I was annoyed to have to go around it. But as the construction took shape, it began to look suspiciously like... Could it be? Oh my goodness yes, a skating rink! One afternoon last week the construction fence was suddenly gone and the rink open. Just like that!





I could hardly pedal fast enough to get close and read the bright crimson sign. And guess what? It is free to skate there, and $5 to rent skates. Technically I still own a pair of skates circa 1995, though sadly I have not been able to find them since we moved to Boston. I can picture these skates vividly in my mind: They were white with jet-black heels and shiny blades, utterly beautiful, and they cost $29.99 at Olympia Sports. "I will buy them for you, if you really think you can do it this time," my mother said. And I nodded vigorously. Oh how I wanted those skates!





Perhaps now is a good time to explain that the intensity of my love for skating is matched only by my utter lack of ability. Born to a set of parents who skated proficiently since childhood and believed it to be the most natural thing in the world, I stunned them with my clumsiness and lack of coordination.



I remember my first time on the ice: It was a crisp winter evening not long before my 4th birthday, and a huge skating rink was set up in the park under garlands of lights. My mother - a slender, elegant beauty in a tailored overcoat - glided across the ice effortlessly with a serene smile on her face... as she dragged her little piggy of a daughter along, who flailed and stumbled and continued to be dragged to the sounds of Tchaikovsky blasting from the park's loudspeaker system. "Don't worry, you'll get it!" my mother would say as she glanced down at me occasionally. But mostly she lost herself in the music and glided, dragging me across the ice regardless of whether I was upright or not.





Attempts to get me to skate continued through that and a couple of subsequent winters, but my skills showed little sign of improvement. The "don't worry, you'll get it!" gave way to "but you're not even trying!" until finally my mother gave up. But my yearning for the ice remained, and every winter I sighed as I watched the figure skaters on television. As a teenager I asked for a pair of skates for my birthday and began to visit a local rink on my own - skating in a slow and duck-like manner close to the guard rail. I was remarkably bad, but somehow I still enjoyed it. I took these skates with me to college, grad school, and beyond, visiting local rinks for more of the same. And now I can continue here!



Yesterday I knew that I would finally have an hour gap in my day, and I made sure to withdraw some cash. I was ready to rent skates and I cycled to Harvard Yard full of anticipation.






But of course I should have known that it would not be so easy! Just days after the snow storm, the temperature had shot up to nearly 50°F by mid-day and when I arrived the rink was closed "due to weather." So, I have yet to go skating. But at least I tried. And I'll try again as soon as the temperature drops and my schedule allows.




Cycling past the rink last week, I did notice the skates they were using and was a little disappointed that they were a sort of brownish-beige. I want some white ones like I had before, and am thinking that maybe I should get a new pair of my own. Third time could be a charm, and I might actually learn how to skate... though I'm not holding my breath!

On the Road in Stormy Weather

The clouds gathered darkly as Francesco and I set off on our fateful voyage. Braving the wind in my long tights, jacket, gloves and hat, I could not believe that in the third week of May the weather was identical to what it had beenin November. No sooner had the flowers finally bloomed, than their petals were assaulted by harsh winds and pelting rains. Now they lay scattered all over the roads - a pink and lilac watery mush for everyone to trample.



"How fitting," said Francesco, "that it is on such a day you are taking me away to be left with strangers. For the dark skies reflect the darkness that will reign in my heart."



Oh Francesco! So melodramatic. In fact, we were on our way to the Ride Studio Cafe, who are loaning me a roadbike for the formidable paceline rides. Since the RSCis nearly 10 miles away and I can only get there by bike, it was agreed that I would arrive on Francesco and then swap him for the loaner bike. It will only be for a few weeks. And as soon as we arrived it was clear that my Moser was in good company: A pastelPinarello beauty made eyes at him from across the storage room, whispering "Buena Sera" in a sultry voice. He forgot about me immediately, and with a light heart I began my journey home on a sleek titanium machine.



But my sense of relief was short-lived. The skies opened up within minutes of my departure and rain began to pour with a violence that even the forecast had not predicted.



Soon my 23mm tires were cutting through lake-sized puddles and skipping over slippery tree-roots that protruded from the cracked asphalt, as water came down in buckets from the ever-darkening skies. I could not see where I was going, and it was only thanks to the miracle of the homing instinct - aided perhaps by the bicycle's admirable handling - that I got back intact.



When I finally dismounted the bike, the sight that awaited me was gruesome. Every inch of the formerly pristine machine was now covered with sand, dirt, pine needles, and all manner of road filth. Even the minuscule saddlebag they took the trouble to assemble for me was now a soggy, grime-covered mess. Then I took a look in the mirror, and realised that the same could be said of me! Forget "skunk tail" - My entire back, my legs, and also parts of my face were covered with what I hope is just wet sand, but looked far more disgusting. Is this what normally happens without fenders? It is far more dramatic than what I'd imagined!



The rest of the evening was spent showering, loading the washing machine, and scooping bits of plantlife (please don't let it be anything more gross than that!) from under the brake calipers and off the brake pads. Later, the Co-Habitant came home and thoroughly examined my loaner steed... upon which he discovered a substantial gash in the front tire. Seriously? Argh! But I guess I should be glad - otherwise it could have failed during a paceline ride, which is one of my biggest fears. So I think I will be putting some tires with puncture protection on this bike. ContinentalGatorSkins might be a tad slower than the Michelin ProRace3s currently on it, but the gash in the rubber is enough to persuade me it's worth it. What is your favourite "fast" road tire with puncture protection?



The forecast promises pretty much constant rain and autumnal temperatures for the entire week, and the gloomy weather is really becoming difficult to take. I will probably be going roadcycling in the rain again, simply because otherwise I will never get back into a regular practice of riding. At least next time I will know what to expect.