A few hours on the water with Justine

With Canoecopia over and a serious case of spring fever afflicting us, and Justine Curgenven visiting before returning home to Wales, we decided to get out on the water with friends Bonnie Perry and Paul Redzimski.

Paul and....

...Justine stayed warm with a little frisbee.

Justine seemed a little disappointed that there was no more ice on the lake. (She had seen our photos in an earlier blog post.) But that certainly made the put-in easier.

North Avenue beach, where we could now carry over exposed sand.

With the wind blowing out of the north, we paddled south along the shoreline to Navy Pier. It's calming to be on the water, with the sounds of the city muffled and so much open space around us. We always wonder how visitors like Justine experience our home marine environment.

As we rounded the Pier, Chicago's skyline came into view.

Paul explored the sea caves beneath Navy Pier.

We threaded our way through the remains of Dime Pier.

Realizing that we would have to paddle against the wind on our way back (and not to wanting to be responsible for getting Justine to the airport late), we turned around and paddled north.

Heading Northeast to the light house. We were the only people on the water.

We stopped to look at the remains of winter ice on the break wall.

We landed and loaded up, a little colder but certainly happier for having gotten out.

Mt. Borah Epic

Today was the running of the Mt. Borah Epic. While the race is on the Saturday of Festival of the Trails - it is separate from the festival.

According to the promoters:

"The Mt. Borah Epic is nothing short of its true definition. A series of trail systems developed by the Chequamegon Area Mountain Bike Association, also known as CAMBA, have led Mt. Borah to stage a race that pays tribute to the trails and offers a one-of-a-kind experience found no where else but Northern Wisconsin.

Skill, endurance and perseverance will be asked of each rider as they challenge the Epic this upcoming spring. Each section of the course holds its own key to success. Racers will traverse rocks, roots and navigate through pine groves, all while enjoying the epic single track that has inspired us to stage this race from the very beginning."

I was not in Cable, WI for the start (probably should have gotten up earlier enough, but needed my rest). Taking a break from shooting some photos of the skill class, I noticed a growing number of folks in blue sweatshirts gathering at OO Trailhead. I learned that the point-2-point race will be coming through here. Found a seat and spend about an hours shooting the riders.

OO Trailhead was about 1/2 point of the 30 mile race and the only (for what I know) fuel/water stop. Photo with this posting is the race leaders at the fuel stop. Once they are sorted, proof copies will be on my events & race web site.

International: Round 2

Climbing rangers have second round of joint international training operations!
Last week we had the privilege of hosting a group of climbers from the Korean Mountain Rescue Association here at Rainier. A group of four climbers came over from Seoul, and spent a week with us on the mountain learning about how our climbing program operates within the national park. Their association has over 600 members who climb all over the world and promote climbing throughout Korea. Most of their time here was spent training in advanced rescue techniques with climbing rangers and climbing Mount Rainier. Word on the street is they can cook up some good food, and we think some stories might have even been exchanged, thus leading to a fully successful week.
Thomas Payne, our official liaison with S. Korea, shown here with three of our guests after coming down from the summit on a beautiful sunny day.

Green Giant Buttress Dreamer ..

Finally, our schedules and weather cooperated to let Steve and I climb together. Since it was early October, and the snow level was around 5000' most of the week, we decided alpine options would be a little cold and snowy (for rock climbing.) We made the decision Thursday night to make an attempt at Dreamer (5.9) on Green Giant Buttress.
Temps were hovering around freezing as we made the drive out to Darrington Saturday morning. The drive in is pretty straight forward. Although with a standard sedan, you may wish to stop earlier than Steve and I. (We bottomed the car on rocks a few times.) A high clearance 4WD could get even further than we did. Our driving progress stopped at a slight pullout on the left of the road just before a ditch.
We started hiking the road and after a 1/4 mile came to the point all vehicles would have to stop. Brush got thicker, but it was never that much of a bushwhack. Beta for the approach was accurate, and after some point in time we were near old mining debris and crossing the "braided stream." This is where is got slightly tricky. We approached the base of the "three tiered waterfall" as described in the approach. There was a very faint trail through serious vegetation right at the base of the falls. It did not look easily passable. So Steve and I hiked up a slippery slab at the first tier of the waterfall and found a more suitable looking path. We did a not so fun bushwhack up this path for about 10 minutes until it became a dead end. We hiked back down and found the correct bushwhack start from the falls. Which was at the base of the slab we climbed. It is currently marked by a log going up from the water into the bushes.
Once we found the correct drainage, things started going more smoothly. A bit of bushwhacking and we were back to homo erectus. Now on semi-wet slabs scrambling up the drainage. Near the top of the drainage we had a choice, go right up something that looked like the side of a moraine (Rock loosely embedded in dirt.) or go up a "path" to the left. We wrongly chose path. If we had looked at the beta, we would have correctly gone right and taken less time and danger to reach the base of the route, but instead this is what followed:
Photo by Steve Machuga.
We scrambled 3rd and 4th class slabs for a bit. (And possibly some 5th class moves.) We even got out the rope at one point. Then the rock eased a bit, and we were finally near the base, where another party had left a pack. We geared up and from what I can tell, scrambled some 4th or 5th class up to the base. (Actually we got the rope out again for the final bit to the base.) At this point it was close to five hours since we left the car.
I led out on the first pitch, and according to Nelson's topo, combined it with the second pitch. From where we started, we were just shy of a full rope length, so there was about 15' of simul-climbing that Steve and I had to do to reach the anchor. Because I am blind, I totally missed the three bolt anchor and slung a bush and brought Steve up.
Steve started out on the next pitch, which looked too run-out for my taste. (Once again, we couldn't see bolts correctly and this pitch was somewhat off-route.) This pitch is supposed to go right and then up, but the bolts we could see were directly up and then far right. It wasn't until it was too late to turn around that we saw the bolt directly right of the belay, and the line of bolts leading up below the bolt we "aimed" for. Steve felt "our" variation was in the 5.10a land. This wouldn't surprise me, as the first bolt he clipped was on the Urban Bypass, which I believe goes at 10a. He made a scary run-out traverse over dirty rock to reach the next bolt. (No pics, as I was watching him closely.) I followed up behind, taking what may have been a slightly easier path.
We got to the next pitch where I led off on somewhat run-out knobby slab. The climbing was enjoyable and got the heart beating a bit. Steve led up the next pitch which had some awkward moves up what was called a 5.7 corner. The pitch was fun and ending in the most comfortable belay stance since the top of the first pitch. Steve led out on the next pitch which is the one Dreamer is known for. It starts in a shallow corner with easier climbing. It then goes to the top of a pillar, where a bolt is clipped. Then traverses right with no protection up to the bottom of a large flake. Then a 5.9 traverse back left and over the flake to enter "The Blue Crack." An awkward, 5.9 flake/crack that brings you up to the next hanging belay. Steve led it in fine style. I got cold at the belay as the sun went behind the ridge. I was getting tired and I think the cold I was getting all week finally was getting the upper hand. I followed behind, but felt really tired. (I also hadn't eaten a lunch yet.) I took a fall midway through the 5.9 traverse. Regained my composure, but had to struggle the rest of the way up the pitch. At the top, I asked Steve what time it was, and he said 4:30pm. I told him we had two hours of daylight, and it was in our best interest to descend.
This turned out to be a wise decision, as we had minor difficulties rapping with daylight. (One rap left Steve 15' shy of the anchor, and I had to lower him.) I had to make an intermediate stop to make sure I would reach the next anchor. On the last two raps, the other party reached us, and we shared their ropes for the final raps. I was a little slow packing up, and we lost them going into the bushwhack. We turned on our headlamps and headed downhill. Steve and I then proceeded to march around (through?) vine maples for what seemed an eternity before we regained the gully where we should have left it in the morning. The rest of the scramble/swhack/hike out was uneventful, but all by headlamp.
Overall, the climbing on Dreamer is a step up from what I am used to doing. I think my difficulties with the 5.9 pitch were more due to fatigue than my climbing ability, but I will most likely have to wait until next year to tackle that climb again.
Pics are located here.
(I included Steve's pics as well.)

... And here endeth the lesson

The dawn of a new day (even if I don't photograph sunrises very well), and what lessons shall I take from it?



"We learn something new every day" or words to that effect. Sometimes it can be the reinforcement of an old lesson that we should have taken before. Another old saying: "if only..." If only I'd done this or hadn't done that. If only I'd taken a few extra moments when fixing that flat tyre this morning, but I'm getting ahead of myself (will that be tomorrow's lesson?).

I had decided to head for the usual Hinze Dam ride before work this morning, although I expect I'll be moving it to after work as soon as Martin gets the free time to join me. Once again it had been another beautiful morning, with a surprisingly red sunrise (what I was trying to photograph above). It just had to be Robina where the trouble struck. A nail straight into the tyre. Well, I inserted the spare tube hurriedly (now I was running late). A little too hurriedly as it turned out -- there appeared to be a problem with the rear axle (the second time ever, and the second in as many weeks).

Eventually I rigged it up well enough to ride home, now running fully 30 minutes late. There are times when a sligtly untidy apartment is a blessing -- that's if everything I need is on top of the pile. After throwing everything onto the old bike that I keep in the garage as a spare, and making my way to work (incredibly making it on time), I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I'd stared adversity in the face and owned it.

As the day went on, however, some of my delight faded. Another mechanical problem to deal with, and on the weekend where I wanted some serious km, too -- not to mention the financial implications. After work I take a trip to John's (the best bike shop on the Gold Coast), where I get John to have a quick look at it. Didn't I feel like an idiot? No axle problems at all, just a hasty re-assembly that led to a quick release spring going on the wrong way!

If only I'd taken a few moments to do the thing properly in that roadside repair, I wouldn't have had to make up 30 minutes on the way to work this morning. I wouldn't have had the embarrassment simply having something on the wrong way (although I'm told that happens to quite a few racers), and I wouldn't have had the stress of worrying about how much it was all going to cost.

So today's lesson was take a few moments to do things properly -- otherwise the consequences next time could be much worse.

The Cuckoo and a Stile

image borrowed from moorlandguide.co.uk

Yesterday I heard my first cuckoo of the year.

I was out, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air with Toby.

Toby is an old boy, he still manages to break into a run, very occasionally, but he struggles with scrambling over things. The walk I had decided on had three dog-unfriendly stiles, so I had to lift him up and place him on the other side. I am showing my years too but somehow we managed... I don't doubt that it looked utterly ridiculous! However, it was that or the cattle grid, and he can't cope with those either.

The cuckoo stile!

So, there I was - derriére in the air as I heaved Toby over stile number three when I heard "Cuckoo"! *

Quite!

I'm still not sure that it wasn't uttered by a human.



Once over the stile we walked down the side of the field adjoining this sweet little cottage. I love the tiles on the roof.



The views are beautiful as they sweep across the barley fields, the meadows and across to Belleau.

This is how I normally see the cottage from two fields away - thereby saving myself from having to heave Toby over the triple stile obstacle.

Ms Sparrowyou wanted me to give Arnold a hug...I visited him yesterday and gave him some horse treats.

I whispered your name in his ear and gave him a hug from you. Here is Arnold, wondering whether I have just one more horse treat in my pocket... He was in fine fettle and was enjoying the warmth and the sunshine.
* "cuckoo" is sometimes used to describe someone who acts in a peculiar or strange manner

Washed away

Those who have clicked on this post expecting a heap of spectacular photos are going to be out of luck. My camera stopped working at some point during the day's ride. Presumably inside the last 10km as that was when I took a picture of the floodwaters engulfing Elanora this morning. I have a store of previously unseen pictures from recent rides that I can use to "decorate" the page until I have other arrangements in place.
I have a feeling that the amount of moisture around this place offers at least a partial explanation for the demise of the camera. It certainly had an impact in Tallebudgera Valley overnight. According to the "official" figures, parts of the Gold Coast Hinterland received as much as 600mm (24 inches) of rain over the last 48 hours, much of it falling last night. This morning's ride proved to be as much about evading giant pot-holes and fallen trees as it was about racking up kilometres.
A landslide prevented me from riding the last few kilometres right to the end of the valley, but I was astonished to have made it as far as I had. By that stage I had negotiated three fallen trees, a barbed-wire fence that had "moved" across the road at some point, a "crater" in the road surface that was as wide as the road itself and several metres long, and had observed telegraph poles that were lying horizontally across farms some 40-50 metres from where they should have been standing.
Astonishingly enough, the sights that I had expected (impromptu waterfalls and mist-covered mountains) didn't seem to appear for most of the ride. I can only assume the downpour had cleared from the valley a little earlier, and left behind the mammoth clean-up job. For my part, I managed a reasonably pleasant 60km in conditions that were reasonable, if a little more humid and muggy than I would have liked. Somedays you have to take what you can get.