Wiley Cat

Wiley Cat and Tuffee Dog keeping watch on the garden.

Red Gourd Birdhouse

The Dream? The Adventure!

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

The view of the Needles from the lookout.


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was my start. Yours?

Ringing Them Bells

The bicycle bell is a useful, cheerful and inexpensive accessory. There are many styles available now: large and small, traditional and modern, subdued and colourful. But looks aside, bicycle bells can differ in their functionality - which is something we don't always consider when choosing one. Last week I received an email from a reader who found the big, beautiful bell she bought for her city bike difficult to use and wanted to know what other options were out there. I will take this as an opportunity to describe the different styles of bells I have used over time.






The prototypical classic city bike bell is the "ding dong" bell. It is huge. It is shiny chrome. And it makes a distinct, loud sound, hence the name. Ringing it involves moving the lever with your finger. The first bell I tried of this kind was on thePashley Princess, and like the reader I heard from last week, I must admit I found it difficult to use. The lever required a lot of pressure to depress. Sometimes I could not ring it fast enough, or would hurt my finger doing so. I adjusted the angle of the bell several times, but it didn't help; it was really the pressure required that gave me trouble. Additionally, the enormous chrome surface would blind me when riding the bike in direct sunlight. Overall I was not a fan of this bell, despite its iconic looks.






Of course similar bells exist that use the same mechanism but are easier to use, because the lever requires less pressure. It might just be be a matter of looking around and trying them if possible.






And if the highly reflective surface of chromed bells bothers you, consider a painted bell or one with a matte surface. You could even hand-paint it yourself.






Not all traditional city bikes come with lever-operated bells. Pilen Cycles and a couple of other Swedish manufacturers offer a spinning bell that is extremely easy to use. Simply tapping the top portion lightly makes it spin and the bell produces a ringing sound, no pressure required. The ring is not as loud as that of the "ding-dong" bell, and sounds more like a continuous trilling, but I find it sufficient. Though in the US I have only seen these bells branded with specific manufacturer names (here is one from Kronan), it might be worthwhile asking an importer whether generic ones are available.





Another popular style is the striker bell. The Japanese brass bells that have become abundant in recent years are usually available with this mechanism. You pull back the lever, let go and it strikes the surface with a crisp, loud ring. On all the bells in this styleI've usedso far, the lever has been easy to pull back, not requiring a great deal of finger strength. Another thing I like about these brass bells, is that their surface is not as blindingly reflective as chrome. While they can be polished to a high shine, they can also be kept matte for those who prefer a less reflective surface. Overall, the striker brass bell is the one I now gravitate toward.





Striker bells are available in less traditional forms as well, such as this teapot bell that came bundled with the Paper Bicycle. Though I can't vouch for its durability,I found the plastic lever very easy to use. The sound was loud enough, and the small bell took up little space on the handlebars.







The classic brass bell also comes in a spring-operated version: Pinging the spring with your finger makes it ring. These bells tend to be smaller in size than the striker variant, and the sound they generate is on the quiet side, gentle and zen-like. Some find that the ring is not sufficiently loud for the city, so you may want to try it out.






Most of the bicycle bells I've seen - while varying in materials, size, and aesthetic - use one of the mechanisms described above. However, there are other styles I have not tried yet but would like to, such as the twist bell and the bar-end bell. I am sure others exist as well. Do you have a preference as far as bicycle bells? Feedback on the ones you've used would be most welcome.

North and South Fowl Lakes

For quite a while now I've known about a road that goes to a boat access on North Fowl Lake on the Canadian side of the lake, but never knew just how to get there. Yesterday I spent the afternoon in Thunder Bay and on my way home I took some time to drive the logging roads and try to find the route to North Fowl Lake. It was actually fairly easy to find (of course, I had a GPS with me so I knew how far away from the river I was. This made it easier to find the route, even though the GPS didn't show any of the roads that I was on). I arrived at the North Fowl shoreline just in time to make the sunset image seen above. As I watched the sun go down I could hear several loons calling from across the lake. Loons are always a treat to hear, but their call is so much more magical when accompanied by a beautiful sunset.



(Above: The sand spit that separates North Fowl from South Fowl)

Now that I knew how to access these two lakes by road, I couldn't wait to get my kayak out on them. So, the next day I crossed the border back into Canada with my kayak and headed back to the boat landing on North Fowl. I spent the whole afternoon and early evening paddling on the lakes, wandering my way around, exploring the shoreline and the many wild rice beds that occupy the lakes. By the time I made it back to the landing I had been on the lakes for about 5 hours and covered over 10 miles. It sure was a great day!



(Above: Launching into the surf on South Fowl Lake)



(Above: "Goose Rock", South Fowl Lake)



(Above and below: I recently purchased a Canon G10 camera and an Aquapac underwater bag for it, with the intention of using it as my primary camera when I am out in the kayak. I also have several ideas for underwater images... one of them being the image below, which is an underwater view of wild rice on North Fowl Lake)

Children's Bicycle Revamped

Visiting Nao ofTomii Cycles this morning, I finally saw this little gem in person - the bicycle he put together for his son Fugo. It is really something to see a tiny children's bike this elegant!






The frame started out as a regular kid's mountain bike (Nao doesn't remember for sure what it was, but possibly a Schwinn). Stripped of the original paint, it was powdercoated a robin's egg blue and customised with some lovely components and accessories -





including the tiny stainless fenders with leather mudflap in front







and vintage-style reflector in the rear.






The drilled-out chainguard was powdercoated to match the frame.






The handlebars are the Belleville bars from Velo Orange, which are surprisingly proportional for the bicycle's size.





Caramel coloured basket-weave grips and tiny silver bell.






Prior to becoming a framebuilder, Nao had been making components under the 3RRR name, and often bikes in Boston can be found sporting his custom chainrings and headbadges. This propeller badge is one of his.






I really like how this bicycle came out. It's beautiful and intriguing, but not "too much" for a children's bike. Recycled frame with decorative and functional touches, coaster brake, single speed, kickstand, nothing fragile or complicated. I like how the caramel accessories complement the pastel blue frame. The padded saddle has a scrap piece of leather stretched over it and matches the mud flap. The wide knobby tires are great for riding in the dirt and grass of the back yard, as well as in the nearby park.When I went to pick up the bike, I was warned that it would be heavy, but I didn't really believe it. How heavy could a bike this tiny be? "It weighs more than my own bike!" Nao clarified, referring to his steel roadbike, and he was right!






Fugo's relationship with this bicycle has been interesting. When Nao presented his son with the bike more than a year ago, the boy was not really impressed. He did not know how to ride yet and was not interested in learning. Then recently he suddenly wanted to try riding the bike. Nao was going to attach training wheels, but Fugo did not want them. He then got on the bike and began to ride, just like that.






The trouble with nice children's bikes, is, of course, that children outgrow them fairly quickly. But looking at Fugo's bicycle and watching him ride it, I still can't help but think it is worth it. Great job, Nao, and happy riding to you both.

Chuck Norris and the Mortal, M8r/x, WI7 90m. aka "Chucky"

"Chucky"



Y'all be careful out there!

Banks Lake, Mile Marker 11.2










FA "Chuck Norris & the Mortal"

A2, M8 WI7, 2P, 90m.

Craig Pope, Scott Coldiron, Jan. 31,



Second ascent and

FFA "Chuck Norris & the Mortal", AKA "Chucky"

M8 r/x WI7, 2P, 90m.

Craig Pope, Jess Roskelley, Feb, 2,



Rack:

Small set of nuts

C3's

MasterCams

knifeblades

BD Peckers

BD Specter

Stubbies

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Steep intro moves to p1

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P1 ice was de-laminated to the point of rock pro only. Slung a gas pocket.

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Shakin off the cold...

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Bottom pitch with 2nd Looming above

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More detail of the crazy

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Top of 2nd p crux - PUMP!

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Delicately sneaking up...

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First "rest..."

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Sizing up the never ending madness!

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Snapping a quick shot - cause I HAD too!! 30 ft out from a BD 000 C3 equalized with
a #1 knifeblade...so wild, even after I cleared a ton if ice...

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Peaking out of the hole I carved out of a curtain...SUPER bummed about the fog...

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Throwing up a hell yeah before dancing up the last 60 ft.

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Looking down into space from the final belay...




http://player.vimeo.com/video/59181866"





editor's note:

Really fun for me to add one of the best mixed climbs I have seen locally and a BIG Congratulations!... to Craig, Jess and Scott for getting it done!

Beautiful At All Seasons by Elizabeth Lawrence for GBBC

This post on the book Beautiful At All Seasons was written by Annie in Austin for The Transplantable Rose.

Elizabeth Lawrence wasn't a TV star in charge of garden makeovers- she lived with her mother, made gardens in a couple of Carolina cities, wrote columns for local newspapers, corresponded with other gardeners and was the author of several beloved books, including A Southern Garden,The Little Bulbs, and Gardens in Winter. Bill Neal gathered up many of her columns in Through The Garden Gate, published in 1990. Now, more than twenty years after Miss Lawrence's death, we gladly pony up the price of another collection of her columns, written for a local audience back when the president was named Eisenhower, Kennedy or Johnson. The plants Elizabeth Lawrence speaks of may be regional, but her thoughts are abounding and universal and what a trip you can go on when following her words! Do not think she writes only for the South or that she has nothing to say to modern people. This classically educated woman may look ladylike but she is interested in everything and to get to the plants she'll join her friends in crawling across the forest floor hoping to catch a scent from early wildflowers, or confess to sneaking into the University of Padua Botanical Garden when it was inconveniently closed, only to be chased out of the park by furious Italian guards.


Beautiful in all Seasons, Southern Gardening and Beyond with Elizabeth Lawrence was put together by North Carolina writer Ann L. Armstrong and Lindie Wilson, the woman who bought Elizabeth Lawrence's house in 1986, thinking she'd bought a house but discovering that she now owns a garden shrine. The earlier collection, The Garden Gate, consists of columns written between 1957 and 1971, arranged rather like a daybook, taking you throughout the year. Beautiful In All Seasons is divided by subject matter, allowing you to read what EL wrote about the same plant, idea, principle, or holiday over the years. Since both books consist of short newspaper columns, they're perfect for quick refreshing dips when time is tight.


The introduction to Beautiful At All Seasons speaks of Miss Lawrence's "well-furnished mind" - a concise and exact description of what it's like to read her books. Do any of you know the Spencer Tracy & Katharine Hepburn movie Desk Set, seen here in a poster from Amazon.com? The 1957 movie pits research and information person Katharine Hepburn's memory and retrieval skills against Spencer Tracy's EMERAC, the room-sized Electronic Brain. Somehow I think Elizabeth Lawrence would not only triumph over EMERAC, but would be a whiz on getting the best out of Google if she were around today.


I'm so glad MayDreams Carol chose this book for the Garden Bloggers Book Club! Although I didn't receive my copy until Friday, I've already taken quite a few refreshing dips, and was pretty pumped up when I read the article titled 'Importance of Garden Details'. Both Elizabeth Lawrence and I came up with the same Aspidistra/Holly Fern combination after trial and error. But she discovered this in 1963, while my reinvention took place in ...

Last week something EL wrote in 1970 added an extra dimension to my day. The cilantro was going to seed all over so I'd been harvesting some of the little round seed capsules, leaving some to reseed. You probably know that while the leaves are cilantro, the plant is Coriander.

I was collecting these coriander seeds for Chicken Mole, but while gleaning the seeds off the stems, I remembered that in a column called "Savory Seeds" from Through the Garden Gate, EL had talked about coriander seeds, along with others in the umbelliferae like caraway, dill and fennel. She said that coriander seeds were once coated with fondant to make a type of comfit, used to bribe children to be quiet in church. She noted that, "Alice had a box of comfits in her pocket when she followed the white rabbit down his hole. She produced it at the end of the Caucus-race....there was exactly one apiece all round."

I looked at the seeds - trying to imagine something that tasted like cilantro as the center of a candy, rinsed off a couple and gingerly bit them. The taste was quite different from the leaves - it was like some kind of citrus. With the outside temperatures approaching 100 °F and the A/C chugging away, it didn't seem like a good idea to pull out pans and a candy thermometer and make fondant...perhaps there was a simpler way to make a coriander candy. A few Ghirardelli 60% chocolate chips smooshed around a couple of coriander seeds tastes enough like chocolate-covered orange peels to keep even me quiet for a few minutes.

This post on the book Beautiful At All Seasons was written by Annie in Austin for The Transplantable Rose.