Leap of Faith

That extra day given to us by the leap year stirred up a storm of trouble. After a remarkably mild winter, we got snow on the last day of February and first day of March. Then overnight the temperature fell and this morning the roads are snow-encrusted still. Frustrating for someone who had a carefully crafted training plan for a difficult century ride at the end of the month. If this weather continues for the next couple of weeks, what then?




All kinds of thoughts are now racing through my mind: "I shouldn't have taken time off over the winter... I should have ridden on those days when it rained, 'cause at least it wasn't snowing... I should be riding on the trainer more... There is no way I will be ready at this rate..." Advice from others is so diverse that it's only making me anxious with uncertainty. Some seem confident that I can do the ride, others seem equally certain that I cannot. And that's just among those who know me in person.




But pottering around my neighbourhood in the snow on a day I'd hoped to put in 50 miles, I realised that I need to let all of these worries go and just do the trip no matter what, ready or not.




I am not downplaying the importance of training. I am also not ignoring the fact that proper training can make the difference between being able to complete a challenging ride and not. But in the past, being worried about this has kept me from doing a lot of things on the bike that in retrospect I wish I'd done sooner.




It took me two and a half years to work up the nerve to try a century. I got as far as 65 mile rides pretty easily, but just couldn't take that last step. I read articles about it, listened to advice, and the timing never seemed right. Then one day I just did it. The timing was not any more right than any other time, and I hadn't trained in the weeks leading up to it at all. But I took it easy and rode those 100 miles.




I waited two years to join the local paceline rides, because I didn't feel ready. And it's true, I wasn't ready two years ago. But when I did finally get up the courage to try them, I wasn't ready either! I showed up, felt completely out of place, and struggled like I'd never struggled on a ride before. But I did it, and it changed me as a cyclist. I wish I'd tried it sooner, even if that meant failure.




It seems to me that we can't know where we stand unless we allow ourselves to experience failure, or come close to failure. Maybe the real benefit of the trip to Death Valley is that it will teach me about my limitations. Whether I get enough training or not, I will just have to deal with it instead of backing out or putting it off as I've done so many times before.

Recent activities

New bass and catfish were added to the ponds.


If we'd known you were dropping by, we'd have cleaned the bucket.


Looking for a way out.

It's been stormy and has rained a lot.


The wind chimes have already been stored away twice due to tornado warnings.


Watch your step.

Life has been busy, but we always try to find time to sneak away for exploring.


Remains of what was the biggest tree in this area.


I wonder who lives here?


Flower time.

Pancake Cove Sunset

Here's last night's bitter cold sunset right out in front of our house on Grand Portage Bay. This little circular "cove" has been forming in the ice over the past several days. Up until yesterday morning it was just water in the cove, it hadn't yet filled with ice. After 24 hours of temperatures well below zero, the cove was suddenly filled with sheets of ice commonly referred to as "pancake ice". I thought I would name this little temporary ice cove "Pancake Cove". Last night at sunset these were separate sheets of ice, but this morning after another night of temps approaching 20 below zero, these cakes are now almost completely frozen solid. That's one of the things I love most about winter on Lake Superior... things change every day and often look completely different just from one sunset to the following sunrise!

Selle AnAtomica Titanico, New Version

Last year I posted a review of the Selle AnAtomica Titanico saddle, just as the manufacturer was revamping their product. They have since sent me the new version of this saddle to try, and I am ready to post an update.I got the saddle in black, with copper rivets. I opted for the slotted version, to make it an equal comparison to the previous saddle I owned.






I installed the new saddle on my roadbike and used it for about 450 miles over the winter. The longest single ride I've gone on over that time has been 55 miles.





For detailed information about the manufacturer, please see my original review. But to briefly recap, Selle AnAtomica is an American producer of leather saddles,known for their classic look, their "anatomic" cut-outs, their "watershed" (waterproof) leather, and the generous adjustable range of their rails. The saddles are available in a number of colours and there are separate models for heavier and lighter riders. There is also a non-cutout version available, though the cutout is said to be a crucial feature - allowing the two sides of the saddle to move independently, relieving pressure on soft tissue.





All of these features have remained the same in the newer Selle AnAtomica models, and visually they look identical to the older ones. But there are two key differences. First, the rails are now made of cromoly steel (I take it they were made of hi-ten previously), which makes the saddles lighter. Second, the standard Titanico model is now made of the heavier duty leather that was previously used on the Clydesdale model. This was no doubt in response to complaints of the saddles sagging prematurely.



The previous SAsaddle I owned did sag over the first 200 miles, but after we tightened the tension it did not seem to be sagging again - or possibly it was, but very slowly. The newer version has shown very little, if any, sagging in the 450 miles I've ridden on it so far and has not required tension adjustment.






In my review of the older model, I described the Selle Anatomica saddle as being the most comfortable saddle I've ridden, except when it wasn't. Most of the time the slotted design worked really well, with a wonderful hammocking effect. But once in a while, seemingly spontaneously, one of the sides of the cutout slot would decide to pinch my crotch and that did not feel good at all. The SA representative thought that the stiffer leather of the new model would resolve the issue, but the same thing happened this time around. Just as with the previous saddle, there was no break-in period and it felt perfect from the start, and I mean purrrrfect - no pressure on the sitbones, no pain, just pure comfort... until suddenly, in the midst of a 40 mile ride, the right side of the slot began to dig into my female tidbits in a most unwelcome manner. I'd try to adjust my position on the saddle this way and that, but to no avail. It would pinch pretty badly, until, just as suddenly as it started, the pinching would stop and the saddle would feel perfect again. To be fair, this has happened less frequently with the new saddle than with the older model, but it still happened.




I think Selle AnAtomica is onto something with their unique design, because I cannot stress how comfortable the saddles are when the mysterious slot-pinch is not happening. The waterproof feature is also quite handy - especially for someone like me who always forgets or loses saddle covers. All of that is very cool, and I am glad that they appear to have resolved the sagging issue with the new models. Maybe the slot cutout can be optimised or customised somehow, I don't know. As it stands, I cannot trust the saddle on super-long rides in case the cut-out starts pinching again. But it is also the only saddle I can trust to be comfortable out of the box, with no break-in period. Whether the version without the cut-out resolves the pinching problem without detracting from the saddle's overallcomfort would require further experimentation.

Attach of the Birds

Everyonce in a while we have a big flock of blackbirds come in to water.

Bugs!

Crouching spider,



Hidden grasshopper.



A female spider with her spiffy egg sac.

Sorry, don't have time to ID the bugs this morning! If anyone knows, please leave a comment or email and I'll add the info. I'm thinking that the last one may be a wolf spider.

Edited to add:
Thanks so much to Thingfish23 who has identified the first "spider" above as, well, not a spider but a Harvestman. (I really should have known that. His body didn't look quite right for a spider.)
Order Opiliones.

The second one's a Northern Green-Striped Grasshopper (Chortophaga viridifasciata), according to this site and this one. (Thanks again Thingfish23.)

Thingfish23 also says that the third image above is of a "nursery web spider" (Pisaurina mira).

Edited again:
Sisu says the third one is a wolf spider.

Get ready for the Battle of the arachnophiles!

If anyone else has an opinion on the identity of the spider in question, please email or leave a comment.

Great Blue Heron

Jasmine loves chasing the Great Blue Herons. They're big and they squawk a lot when disturbed.

Herons are smarter than you might think... Normally a heron lands on the path and then walks around a bit, looking for a likely place to fish before walking down into the water.

The local ones have learned to land in the pond itself, below Jasmine's vantage point.

Idiotic bored hunters around here sometimes shoot at them, so this one wouldn't let me any closer to take his picture.

The Center of US

Saturday, May 7th - - The above sign is located on U.S. Highway 36 in north-central Kansas. Several miles northwest is the small, rather desolate and forlorn looking town of Lebanon and a little further to the northwest of Lebanon is the Geographic Center of the Contiguous United States.





Going up... on Kansas 191



And over. At the end of the road is “The Center” of the U.S.



This new little chapel seats four. The original was destroyed in .. by a speeding car.



The official marker denotes the spot.



The flag really needs to be replaced. A strong wind was blowing as I'm guessing it does much of the time.





Lebanon has souvenirs?

Gunks Routes: Easy Overhang (5.2) & Son of Easy O (5.8)

It was one of those treasured weekdays in the Gunks. I was going climbing with Margaret, one of my longest-running climbing friends, but with whom I somehow haven't climbed outside in years. She wanted to do some easy leads. I just wanted to climb and didn't much care what we did. And with a heat wave rolling through and temperatures in the high 90s, easy leads sounded pretty good to me.



After I warmed us up with a run up Rhododendron (5.6-) we took the quick walk over to Easy Overhang, which neither of us had ever done and which Margaret wanted to lead.





(Photo: Almost through pitch one of Easy Overhang, having gone in and out of the 5.1 chimney.)



Pitch one is rated only 5.1, but the opening move (up a little flake and left to the chimney that makes up most of the pitch) sure feels harder than that. Neither Margaret nor I were at any risk of falling off, of course, but it was kind of a wake-up call. I get this same wake-up call whenever I do a super-easy climb in the Gunks. There's always a move somewhere that makes you think a little, no matter what the rating is. On Easy Overhang it comes right off the ground. It's just hard enough, I imagine, to give a brand new leader pause about what's to come, and it could cause real problems for a totally inexperienced climber. After we finished the climb, in fact, I saw a young girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen struggling mightily with these first moves of the pitch while her belayer/dad chatted on his cellular phone, oblivious. I gave her a little beta and she eventually got through it, but not without some skidding feet here and there.



Once you are established in the chimney the climb is as easy as advertised up to the bolts at the belay ledge. I thought it was pleasant, good fun. When I got to the bolts I looked up at the 5.2 pitch two and it too looked like another entertaining sandbag. The holds appeared to be plentiful but the climbing looked quite steep, and not just at the namesake overhang(s).





(Photo: Pitch two of Easy Overhang.)



Margaret set off and made quick work of it. As I followed her, enjoying the moves, I tried to imagine Hans Kraus leading it in mountain boots in 1941 (or perhaps sneakers, as he wore for the first ascent of the crux pitch of High Exposure that same year). It wasn't easy to envision. I tried to picture what this cliff was like without the lines already drawn in. I attempted to see this hunk of rock as a blank slate, as Kraus saw it; to find the line without outside influence, as he had found it. And it was hard for me to imagine that a person could look at this particular line and think it would be easily climbed with the tools of his day: clunky boots, a few pitons, hemp ropes. I resolved to try it one day-- not with hemp ropes or pitons, but maybe in mountain boots, as one internet climbing forum participant proposed somewhere a few months ago. Easy Overhang seems like the perfect climb for it. The going is steep in places, but rests are plentiful and there are great edges for stiff soles; no need for smearing. I think primitive footwear would work well, and that leading Easy Overhang in them would scare the crap out of me, in a good, safe way.



After we were done with Easy Overhang it was my turn to lead something. I couldn't resist hopping on Son of Easy O (5.8). I led it two years ago, just a few days before I broke my ankle. When I looked back on it I remembered the thin face climbing on pitch one as rather tough going, and the pitch two overhang as a surprisingly easy pleasure.



I was eager to get back on it because I've been feeling so good on the 5.8 climbs lately. I wanted to see if pitch one would seem easier this time around. I also wanted to check it out again because a few weeks ago in this space I declared Birdland to be perhaps the best 5.8 in the Gunks, and the reason I qualified my praise with that word "perhaps" was that I thought possibly Son of Easy O deserved the honor instead.



Well, pitch one was still tense the second time around. Maybe the heat was a factor. Maybe my performance was also affected by the fact that the party before us elected to rap from the pins near the top (this requires two ropes or a 70 meter single) and dropped their rope on me while I was negotiating the crux. (They were actually nice guys; they realized this was an error and then waited until I said it was okay before they dropped the other end.) Whatever the reason, I thought this was one of the hardest, and best, 5.8 pitches I've done at the Gunks. It just doesn't stop coming. It is steep for 15 or 20 feet, with thin moves past the pin and the little left-facing corner. Then the angle eases but the thin moves continue. You are over your feet so you don't pump out, but there isn't much in the way of a rest stance until you are practically at the ledge. It's just one thoughtful move after another, with great, abundant pro, the whole way. So good.



I wonder if this pitch feels harder than it used to because it is so popular. The route is polished, so much so that you can pick out the line from the carriage road by the streak of polish going up the wall.



I know it is fashionable these days to combine pitches one and two but it was so hot out I thought it might be nice to take a break between the pitches. I also wanted to experience the traverse over to the overhang at the start of pitch two again, and this traverse is skipped when the pitches are combined. So I angled up left at the ledge and belayed at the traditional spot at the end of pitch one. After Margaret arrived at the belay ledge (remarking as she finished climbing that she couldn't believe pitch one was only a 5.8) I set off on pitch two.





(Photo: In the thick of pitch two of Son of Easy O (5.8).)



Again my impressions of two years ago were more or less confirmed. After a slightly dicey step into the traverse, which requires a move or two before you can get good pro in, the pitch is steep, with great holds and gear as you move up into the overhanging corner. Then it is over before you know it. I made the traversing moves, thinking things were getting pumpy in a hurry. Then I stepped up to the pin, telling myself I'd better keep it moving. I placed a dynamite back-up cam to the right of the pin. I moved up and placed another cam in a horizontal. I thought about whether it was worth the energy I would have to expend to improve this last placement... and then I looked to the right and realized the hard stuff was already done. One step around the corner to the right and the pitch was in the bag.



Having done both pitches of Son of Easy O again I have to say it is a close call, but I don't think it is the best overall 5.8 in the Gunks. If the second pitch were just a bit longer it might get the nod. The first pitch is amazing, the second is only very good. In addition, the climb is a victim of its own popularity; it is getting quite polished on the first pitch. Regardless of these small caveats, it is certainly still among the best 5.8s, and it deserves of every one of its three stars.



But Birdland remains the champ as far as I'm concerned.