It Was A Dark, and Dirty Day

It was a dark, and dirty day but the ponies wanted to play, so even thou they were dirty from rolling in the mud, (it had rained a few drops the night before) I took some photos.

Tombstone Tuesday :: JD and Della Quillen

Mandella Joslin, more commonly known as Della, was the 13th child of 15 born to Lydia Robison and Lysander Price Joslin in Whitley County, Indiana. Della was married to James Downey Quillen on July 30, 1884 in Barton County, Kansas. He went by James but more commonly was known as JD. Della and JD moved around quite frequently, residing, among other places, in Osage County, Kansas as well as Port Orchard, Kitsap County, Washington and Fountain Inn, Greeneville County, South Carolina.

Della and JD were the parents of five children:

1. Leroy "Roy" Quillen (1885-1917) and his wife Anna had a daughter, Pauline, who was born about 1911. He died in Winlock, Lewis County, Washington less than a month before his 32nd birthday.
2. Verni Robert Quillen (1887-1948), known as Robert, was a popular newspaper columnist in the 1930s and 40s when he resided in Greenville, SC. He was married twice and adopted a daughter.
3. Lydia Elizabeth Quillen (1893-1983) married Berthier Henry "Bert" Deason. They resided in Greenville, SC. No children were born to them.
4. Marjorie Quillen (1903-1903) was born on January 6th and passed away two weeks later on January 20th. She is buried in the Overbrook Cemetery, Osage County, Kansas.
5. Della Lucille Quillen (1909-..) was married to Donald Charles Agnew. He taught psychology and philosophy at several Universities and was president of Oglethorpe University in Atlanta, Georgia. They had two daughters, one of whom I have corresponded with.

JD and Della (Joslin) Quillen are buried in the Fountain Inn Municipal Cemetery, Greeneville County, South Carolina. In the photo above their graves are the last two flat markers on the far left.

DELLA JOSLIN / WIFE OF / J. D. QUILLEN / December 9, 1866 / February 7, 1943

J. D. QUILLEN / 1860-1919

Bruce Gordon Was Nice to Me

I spotted him in the shadows, at the back of the exhibition hall. It was unexpected. This was Interbike after all, not NAHBS. But there he was, behind a big beautiful red bike with Bruce Gordon decals, underneath a banner with the mysterious word SOPWAMTOS (which, I soon learn, is the Society of People Who Actually Make Their Own Sh!t). A broad-shoulderd, slightly slouchy, gray-haired man with the face of a Soviet literary dissident circa the 1960s. I would give anything to have the writing skills to describe Bruce Gordon's facial features and expression. But alas, I must struggle. Coyly suspicious? Exuberantly grumpy? Playfully defiant? Something like that.






If you don't already know, Bruce Gordon is a framebuilder out in Petaluma, California. One of the best, they say. One of those guys who has been at it for decades, one of the legends. At a loss for words from the bizarre charm of his physical presence, I blurt out something generic about being pleased to meet him. In reply he laughs with a bitterness that is masterful in its combination of sincerity and theatrics. "If I could go back and do something else with my life, trust me I would!" he snorts. "So... want a bike?" Out of curiosity I ask about the wait list. "I am all caught up," he says, "no wait list. You can go ahead and write that on your blog" (the last word is accompanied by a playfully-scornful - or maybe not so playfully, this is ambiguous by design - roll of the eyes. But who cares. Bruce Gordon has no wait list? Okay, I will write that.)








Next we discuss his famousDangerous Pointy Brakes, which I'd recently tried on one of Pamela Blalock's bikes and discovered to be surprisingly functional (unlike most other cantis I've tried). He was pleased to hear this. For a small fortune the brakes could be mine. Alas I had neither the required sum, nor a bike on which these superior brakes could go. But yes, I would mention them on my "blog."






What can I say. I could have moved along at that point. But I don't know when to quit. And no, that's not even it. In truth, I was a little smitten. I wanted this man to keep talking. I wanted to study his face and figure out what or whom it reminded me of.






So I stuck around, touched the bike, asked questions. He quickly grew suspicious of how much I seemed to know about frame geometry and such. "Oh don't tell me. You're planning to become a framebuilder!" I assured him that I was not, but confessed that I might be building a frame for myself shortly. Nothing serious. Just to give it a try. But becoming a framebuilder, no. I understand the amount of training that requires; I know that earning a living that way is next to impossible. "You're damn right it's impossible." And thus began a speech about the horrors and deceptions of the pipe dream of becoming a framebuilder that claims hopeful innocents of my generation by the dozen. Bruce Gordon's opinion on the matter is basically a more extreme version ofthis. "If I could save just one young person from becoming a framebuilder, I would die happy," he tells me. I believe him, and promise to never become a framebuilder.






He eyes me with sadness and shakes his head. He asks what I used to do for a living before the tragedy of succumbing to bikes. I tell him briefly, and soon we are talking about bikes as one would talk about a disease. He tells me some personal stuff, I reciprocate. We commiserate. Before I know it, the conversation begins to resemble the sort of jaded, weepy, vodka-fueled exchange that takes place at around 3 in the morning. Except this is Interbike, high noon, and I am sober.






The following day, I walked by the booth again and gave Bruce Gordon an uncertain wave. I genuinely did not think he'd remember me; it was as if our conversation the day before had been something I'd imagined. But he did remember. And then he gave me this pin. It's a limited edition. The regular one reads "Bruce Gordon was rude to me."




And that is my story of meeting Bruce Gordon. You should buy one of his bikes. I hear they are good and he's all caught up on his wait list.

My Rock

I saw this rock by the road and wanted to bring it home but Lee wouldn't let me.

Phend-Fisher Family Reunion Ledger (1926)

17th Reunion of.
The Phend - Fisher family reunion was held Sunday Aug 29 - 1926 at McNaughton Park Elkhart, Ind.

The time before dinner was spent socially. After all had gathered around the table, prayer was offered by John Phend.

A short business meeting was held in the afternoon, meeting being called to order by the President, Sam Ringenberger.

The following officers were elected. Sam Ringenberg, President
Wm. Phend Vice President
Ed. Phend, Sec'y.
John Ernest, treasure

The following committee were appointed
Memorial Com.
Bertha Poole
Sophia Ernest

Program Com.
Iva Wherley
Katharine Pletcher

[page 2]
Arrangements.
Grace Vassmer.

Publicity Com.
Fred Ernest.

A short talk was given by Della Senff of Ladysmith, Wisconsin.
Duet was sung by Mrs. John Ernest and Mrs. Shaw.

A collection was taken amounting to $4.80.
$1.95 was paid to sec'y for cards, postage and telephone calls.
34¢ to John Ernest for paper.

91 was reported present, the largest number for some time. It was noted to hold the reunions each year the first Sunday after the 25 of Aug. at McNaughton Park, Elkhart.

Secy was instructed to write a letter of sympathy to Mr. C. D. Phend who was sick and could not be present.

Secy.Ed Phend

Autumn Climbing

A small break of warm and clear weather, after the major storm cycle, let multiple teams summit early this week. A climbing ranger climbed on Saturday morning and reported 'great-for the end of the season-conditions' on the DC. Climbing rangers at Camp Schurman had a similar report about the Emmons/Winthrop route.

End of season operations are underway. Helicopter flights for refilling propane tanks and human waste removal occurred last week over the mountain. Stairs to the half-doors on the public shelter are being put in place and the solar dehydrating toilets at Camp Muir will be closed. The larger ADA compliant vault toilet with a half-door will be opened at Camp Muir for use during the winter.

Be sure to double check registration requirements for the dates of your climb. The transition from summer registration regulations to winter registration regulations has begun. See the regs. link to the right for more info.

Alpine Strawberry

A 'White Delight' alpine strawberry flower in the vegetable gardens of The French Laundry.

Lake Powell Sunset - Alstrom Point

Yesterday we ventured out along the backroads of Southern Utah to watch the sunset over Lake Powell at Alstrom Point. This point is easily one of the most spectacular views of Lake Powell. It is also a very remote area, which means there is very little traffic. In fact, last night we were the only two people out there. We saw a couple of cars along the road on the way out to the point, but once we got to the point we had it to ourselves. The sunset light here is absolutely magical. As the sun begins to set the buttes begin to glow and if there is no wind (like last night) you get some really nice reflections in the water. Not an easy place to get to, but definitely worth the effort.

Below: Here I am earlier in the day taking in the view from Alstrom Point. Photo by Roger Nordstrom.

Polartec Neoshell "Soft"? The real game changer?

Out of the box and onto the ice. The first Neoshell "Soft" garments from NWAlpine.

NWAlpinist Salopettes and a Big 4climbing jacket.





Last fall we were having a discussion here aboutsoft shells as I was trying to source garments for an up coming review. I had used the Westcomb Polartec Neoshell Apoc hard shell jacketand had been impressed with the performance in every condition. Other Neoshell "hard shell" garments followed. All equally impressive for performance as a hard shell that had a little stretch added. They did breath well. No doubt about that!



The first I heard of the newest Neoshell "soft" was from a reader here at CT. Not believing the comments actually I searched out the only two garments that were being produced at the time, one from Marmot and the other from Mammut.



I seldom really try to get garments for review and tests. But these two I REALLY did try to obtain but to no success. No pro deals, no freebees or demo loans were going to happen. And at $400 and $500 retail per garment I was stuck. No money for this one! I didn't have the money for that kind of test on something I really figured wasn't going to be all that impressive anyway. Love the blog and finding new groovy gear for my on use but throwing down close to agrand in short order wasn't going to happen.



Little did I know. (which seems to happen on a regular basis writing a climbing gear blog)



After giving up on the usual suspects for getting any deal on the newest Neoshell I went to the source. Polartec of course! RA you know who you are and I want to sincerely "THANK YOU!"

Best "new" product for imo.



In short order a couple of yards of the newest material, I like to call it Neoshell "Soft" was on the way to my "local tailor", Bill Amos the owner of NWAlpine. No clue what this stuff is really called.

My reasoning behind my manic behavior (this time) was I wanted a warmer pair of NWAlpinist Salopettes. Way more a "want" thing than a a "need" thing in this case. And to be honest I wasn't expecting much. I have lots of nice climbing pants. And they reall yare warm enough. What else was I going to get to play with?MWA'sclimbing specific jacket called the "Big 4" was sew up with Neoshell SOFT at the same time. In this casewhat I got was atotal surprise!



Here is a short comment prior to a full review and comparison coming in April.



"Compared to the three versions of Arcteryx pant fabrics and the current NW Apline fabric the Neoshell SOFT is the warmest and most breathable but least stretchy. But it is just stretchy enough for pants, salopettes ora shell top. And as tough or tougher than most fabrics I have mentioned and not any heavier. May be not the best material for warmer weather use though from what I have witnessed so far. But then again smart garment design work would solve that problem as well I suspect.



My NWA salopettes are 1# 6oz in the NWAlpine fabric which Arcteryx also uses. It is a lwt to mid weight very stretchy fabric which isn't very durable in the long run. Same salopette is 1# 5oz in the Neoshell soft which is much warmer, water proof, very breathable and no question more durable.

And I find the Neo Soft more comfortable to wear.



I have both a NWA Big Four Jacket and the Alpinist Salopettes in the Neoshell SOFT and will be doing a full review and comparison on the blog in April after the next trip north.



Short version? The Neoshell SOFT garments are changing the way I dress for winter climbing and the physical comfort level while doing so. All while wearing less and being better protected from any weather.



And it was not easy to get me off that dime.



Big claims I know but true to date. I have used a few of the current state of the art soft shell tops. And 3 of thehard shell Neoshell garments and been impressed with all ofthem, Currently I think the Neoshell SOFT is THE fabric that will change how we dress for cold weather climbing.



More to come in April.








NWAlpinist Salopettes in Neoshell "Soft" and lovin them









Both versions of the NWAlpinist Salopettes on the walkin.

Paths Almost Crossed

Ruffed Grouse and hiker on a backwoods road in Northeast Minnesota.

The Phend Surname

The "Phend" surname, as you might imagine, is not a common one. The index to the book on the Phend Family that was published in 1991 only includes 331 people with the surname, and that included everyone that I had found since the family came from Switzerland to the United States in 1832. Johannes Phend, the progenitor of our family, had two daughters and two sons, John and Jacob. John didn't have any children. Jacob had seven children, six sons and one daughter; there were 43 grandchildren, 29 grandsons and 14 granddaughters. In the next generation the numbers flipped and girls outnumbered the boys by about 2 to 1.

According to my Grandpa Vic, his grandfather, Jacob, pronounced the Phend surname as "pay-hend" and said that it was spelt pay-hay-a-n-day. He also told me it was originally spelled with a B instead of a P but that the B was pronounced softly like a P and that is how it got changed from B'hend to Phend. However, in Swiss records the surname has been found spelled as B'hend, Bhend, Fend, Fendt and Pend. In the United States, the surname has also been found in records as Fend, Fiend, Fin, Phind, Pheud, Phena, and Phent.

Considering that names were often spelled phonetically, and the fact that many record keepers and census takers wrote so poorly, the variations are not all that surprising. It just sometimes makes it a bit challenging to find the right records.

Johannes Phend was recorded as Jean (or Sean?) B'hend on his 1832 passport.


The signature of Johannes on his passport.


The Land Record from Carroll County, Ohio (Deed Book 11, page 367) showed John Phend and his wife Susan selling their land in 1849 - and his signature!

The family was found in census records the "old fashioned" way - by turning the crank and going through the reels of microfilm image by image, before indexes were widely available, and before the internet. Lucky for me, from other records, I knew where to look and the townships they lived in were relatively small.

1840 Carroll County, Ohio (Brown Township page 192)


1850 Greene County, Indiana (Taylor Township page 409b)

1860 Marshall County, Indiana (German Township page 56)


1870 Kosciusko County, Indiana (Scott Township page 434)

1880 Kosciusko County, Indiana (Scott Township page 33)


In 1900 and 1910, Jacob was livng with his daughter and her husband, Sophia and John Ernest, in Elkhart County, Indiana. (Nappanee, Locke Township page 232 in 1900 and in Concord Township page 56b in 1910)

Three other recent posts highlight some family records from Switzerland, the christening record of Johannes Fendt, and the family's emigration to the United States.

Blank Canvas

For many of my cycling friends, winter is the time for making big plans. Like the vast snowscape outside, the seasons ahead spread out, blank canvas-like, glittering with possibilities. We are increasingly spoiled for choice here: Beautiful unpaved rides, formal and informal brevets, invitational weekend getaways - it's enough to make one's head spin. And it all requires budgeting, scheduling, prioritising, oftentimes with advanced planning and registration. And so in the coldest days of February, over cups of scalding coffee, cyclists speak in agonised whispers of events to come in the summer months.




I used to listen with curiosity and detached amusement. As someone who generally resists planning, I could not imagine scheduling a summer's worth of weekends around cycling events. But this time around I am getting swept up in it all.




Staring at the pile of snow outside my window, I find myself considering ahill climb race. I don't expect to do well at all, but I think I might enjoy it. Feeling that is a surprise to me; wanting to do it is a surprise. But when I imagine the climbing and the festive atmosphere, I want to be there - pedaling and feeling the strain, delirious as I strive for a summit I might not have the stamina to reach. Weird, isn't it, the things we can enjoy.




Plodding along the riverside trail, I contemplate this year's brevet series. I love the idea of randonneuring. But truthfully, I don't think I am serious about it - or ready for it, depending on how you look at it. On long rides that pass through beautiful places, what I really want to do is explore, carry a big camera, stop any time I like and constantly take photos - which is at odds with being on the clock. It might make more sense to finally put aside some time for a light multi-day tour.




Cleaning the salt and crud off my bike after a slushy outing, I remember long dreamy rides on unpaved roads. It seems almost fictional now: Going from the "baby" D2R2 route to the hair-raising loose descents of the Kearsarge Klassic in a matter of weeks, riding borrowed bikes with unfamiliar components,rental cars at 5:00 in the morning... Absurd. But oh how I long to do it again (minus the borrowed bikes, I hope), andhow I long to find more rides in the same vein. I am even willing to plan in advance and make commitments.




This winter is turning out to be brutal. But the months ahead are a blank canvas, and putting down the initial sketch is keeping me sane.

Clouds

Watching over the nest

A pair of Eagles watches over their nest as they take turns incubating the eggs. Butterwort Cliffs Scientific Natural Area - Near Cascade River State Park, MN.