Nothofagus

Isn't that just totally amazing! A 3,000 year old Antarctic Beech tree at Springbrook, a remnat from the last ice-age (which was just about the last winter Queensland had). They're also called Nothofagus for some reason -- I'm not sure which name is more unpronounceable. I decided to do the climb to Springbrook this morning, hoping desperately that last night's rain would stay. It didn't, but that did nothing to quell the humidity. I was sweating enough to wring out my jersey by the time I reached the summit. The views from there were non-existent in the clouds, but there were some nice shots from other parts of the mountain.







I also took a detour to Austinville just to add a few km to the ride. I really need to do another night ride down there before too much longer. The dirt roads were interesting to negotiate after last night's rain, and there was even a flooded causeway! There are few things I love more than the refreshing splash of water from crossing a flooded stream.
With the cooler southerly wind I'll be looking for more riding tomorrow. It's now the training phase for the New Zealand ride in 35 days' time.

California Newt Up Close

Cascade Creature, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

This little guy was basking in the sun next to a wonderful mossy waterfall in Las Trampas. Newts are so cool, and seeing them move about means that spring can't be far away...

Mana-Swamp

Brought the hardtail to ride yesterday. Plan was to ride the Wabash Trace. Stopped at the bike shop and the word was the Trace was soft/muddy. On to "Plan B".
Over the weekend, heard the Missouri River was flooding around Omaha. Headed over to Lake Manawa on the bike. Rough riding into the wind on the Mosquito Creek levee. When I got over to the river access road, I found it was barricaded. When I rode over to the river levee, I saw why. The road and trails are flooded.

Deep water at the entrance from the road to the west side.

Rode on the levee to the east side. Here's the view of No Second Cnance junction with East Sidewinder.

Most of East Sidewinder is under water.

Riding over the the West side, Woodchopper is under water.

Walked down to the Woodchopper turn area. Here's a trail view.

The trails are going to need to work once the water recedes. More photos on Facebook and will be posted on the THOR web site.

Flood Aftermath

Fifties and sunny in January - I'll take it! A little cooler yesterday. I could not pass up the opportunities to ride my bike.
Yesterday was the first ride for . I was not up to par - my heart monitor was giving me high readings. I took it easy and rode 9 miles. It was about 45 degrees with filtered sunshine. Glad I wore my extra layer of sweatshirt and heavy tights.
Today it was about 55 when I headed out to ride, with full (for January) sun. Was gonna wear light tights, but they felt too warm. Decided to try the leggings I purchased for last winter.
They were just the trick for the temperature. Being the first time I tried leggings, I was not sure if they go over or under the short-bibs. I started with the leggings over the shorts.
Within 2 miles riding, the leggings were starting to slip down my leg. Stopped along the trail and pulled up the legs of the bibs, lulled the leggings up, and then brought the legs of the bibs back over the leggings. I rode another 10+ miles without issue. Though I did not need to, about 3 miles from the end of my ride I re-adjusted the leggings.
Now, I know what it LOOKS like guys are wearing shorts over tights -- its leggings!
Now, as for the ride it self - I rode from the Wabash Trace Trailhead or to I-80 behind the Trails Center. I wanted to see what looked like since the flood. I had seen photos, wanted to see for myself.
Not sure who all worked on clearing the mess - but they have done an awesome job. Thanks for your efforts!

The trees near the lower section near the levee have been desecrated. Looks like a tornado went through the area - trees every which way. (upper photo)
At the benches along the trail, I could see the sand dunes that were deposited during the flood jutting into the pond. They must have been sand bars some 6 feet thick! (see lower photo)
Stopped in to the Trails Center to sign the visitor's register. Jam and Bread was just getting going, so kept my visit short. Picked up a flier for "Xtreme Winterfest" bike ride - being held Saturday morning.

Mat Thorp Cokinos

Exclusive is not in the family vocabulary. Please welcome my neighbor, Mat Thorp into the fold:

"To make sure that I get included in your, obviously exclusive, blog; here are my Greek bonafides: The second photo from the right margin on the top line is Lynn`s mother, Lynn, with Nick Gaston owner of the Old New Orleans night club on 18th St at Connecticut Ave. This was taken by the Old New Orleans cigarette/photographer girl. On Lynn`s and my first date,in 1949, she asked me to meet her at Nick`s house on the VA side of Key Bridge where he had Sunday poolside parties. Nick`s main business was brokering restaurant deals. When Lynn and I were married the second time, Nick had the wedding group to the Old New Orleans before opening time."--Mat

Unique visitor at Grand Portage State Park

We had a unique visitor today at the state park where I work. It was a rather chilly and blustery day, but that did not seem to deter this intrepid little woodpecker. He spent most of the afternoon pecking at the trunk of a fallen Spruce tree. He also apparently was not bothered by my presence, as I was only about 10 feet away from him when I made this picture. My first thought was that it was a Black-backed Woodpecker, but I have since been corrected and am told that it is an American Three-toed Woodpecker. Whatever he is, he sure was a pretty little bird and was a lot of fun to watch!

Day three: navigation day and night

Today is all about finding our way and staying out of traffic. The kind of stuff you hope your kids learn by the time they head off for kindergarten, but it’s trickier when you’re in a small boat on big water.
The day began with navigation exercises on land and on the water. We practiced finding bearings and triangulating to determine our position, and then finding a heading to a buoy that took into account the current and wind. We paddled out to the buoy and, once again, were joined by several playful dolphins.
Lyn photographs a dolphin, one of many we would see during the day.

The next step was safely crossing Tybee Road, a major shipping channel where the Savanna River meets the Atlantic Ocean. So we grouped up at a green bell buoy and watched for boats. When the coast seemed clear, we took the shortest route across, to the red buoy. From there we practiced taking bearings and adjusting headings until it was time to cross the channel again. This time, we heard the rumble of something large in the distance. It turned out to be a gambling boat—a windowless, tank-like vehicle that seemed like a symbol of floating desperation. Playing it safe, we waited about 10 minutes until it was at most two minutes from crossing in front of us, then took off across the channel. Our trip took about nine minutes. We might have made it if we hadn’t waited, but who wants to take the chance of being run over by a gambling boat?
Green buoy 17. When we visited it during the day, it was a helpful aid to navigation, marking our position and one side of the shipping channel. When we came back that night, it was a safe haven--a spot where we felt less vulnerable in the darkness and the Saturday night boat traffic.
When we returned to the same beach after dark, everything looked different. Lights blinked on the water, calling out their identities with their color and frequency. Estimating distances was tough. At one point, the residential lights more than five miles away on Hilton Head Island looked like bioluminescence about half a mile away. We used a red light to read our chart and compasses because red light doesn't compromise night vision, only to discover that the color made it difficult to tell one side of the bearing compass needle from the other or immediately see the color of buoys on the chart. Everything took longer and felt more uncertain in the dark.
Checking the chart and choosing a heading was harder on land in the dark, and even more so on the water.
When we got on the water, strong swells and a pushy current immediately rendered our intended heading obsolete. We paddled out to the buoy while watching a large freighter cruise up Tybee Road. The dolphins must have been asleep beneath us, one eye open, one eye closed. It was beautiful and magical being out at night. By the time we arrived at the buoy, we felt the full two knots of current pushing us out toward the ocean. That's when a motor boat sped by a little too close for comfort, reminding us how vulnerable we were.
Lessons learned include:
- practice with all your night gear before you really need to use it
- plan ahead on shore as much as possible (which is true night or day)
- don't let advance planning keep you from adjusting when you get on the water and feel the real conditions (or as Marsha says, "Get your brain off the paper.")
- pack before it gets dark, if possible
- secure anything you can't afford to lose (we used paddle leashes)
- realize that you may be far less visible on the water than you think.