Through the Valley of Fire

Wednesday, November 30th - - The road led me south from Zion National Park. My destination for the night was the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada about 50 miles northeast of Las Vegas.



I arrived about an hour before sunset and the sun was casting a warming glow over the landscape. The park's website (link above) tells us that “The Valley of Fire derives its name from red sandstone formations, formed from great shifting sand dunes during the age of dinosaurs, 150 million years ago. Complex uplifting and faulting of the region, followed by extensive erosion, have created the present landscape.”





As you drive around the park, numerous formations jut out above the desert floor.



The formations were piles of swirling rock. It was like Mother Nature had dipped her hand into a bowl of whipped cream and mixed it up to form these incredible rocks.







Wind and rain have added their “artistic touch” to the formations to produce a dazzling display.



Thursday, December 1st - - High winds and rain came through the valley last night. The van was buffeted around quite a bit and if there had been room in the campsite I would have turned the van so that it was facing into the wind. It wouldn't have been quite so bad then. But, from what I've heard, the winds through the Valley of Fire were not nearly as bad as those in California. I've been through a few other bad storms and this compares to some of the worst. I was glad to see the sun come out in the morning, but that didn't last long either.



Rather than stay and be miserable in the wind, rain, and cold air I continued on my drive south.

The Continuing Evolution of the Patio

The Veranda, as described in a September post, was already there, and except for the steps, its evolution didn’t require hard labor. But more than vision was needed for the Patio at the back of the house – it’s taken two years of muscle and materials, and it’s still evolving. If we had a bigger landscaping budget, lived in a colder climate or owned a house from a different era, we might have chosen other methods or materials, but our plan suited this house, this town and two mature people with time and energy.

This is not a How-to-do-it post – more a What-we-did story.
The patio looked like this when our realtor showed us the house – it was the usual 20’ X 12’ poured concrete rectangle, possibly installed by the builder in the 1970’s. A sidewalk starts at the patio and passes in front of the breakfast room window on its way to the gate. A door from the house opens onto the patio. We were pleased to see that we could fit the table & chairs and the grill on the concrete, with room left for a few pots.
A few pots? We moved here with over 100 container plants in the summer of .., carried from the deck and porch of our previous home. Some of them were supposed to be patio plants but most of them belonged in borders and beds. Since we hadn’t yet made the borders and beds, the patio was wall-to-wall with furniture and terra cotta, genuine and faux, overflowing onto the grass.

We had perennials: clematis, heirloom daylilies, agaves, hibiscus, balloon flowers and Amarcrinums. We had tender plants that moved inside for the winter like the Plumeria. We needed a place near the kitchen for the burgeoning herb and hypertufa collection.
A forest of young trees and shrubs had started out as one-gallon starter plants but many were approaching landscape size: one Southern Wax Myrtle, a Camellia japonica, a 4-foot Osmanthus fragrans/Tea Olive, two ‘Celeste’ Figs, an heirloom Philadelphus/Mock orange, a couple of Boxwoods, a large double-yellow Nerium oleander, a Callicarpa Americana/Beautyberry, a Lady Banks Rose, yards of Carolina Jessamine/Gelsemium sempervirens, a little Vitex, two Lagerstroemia/’Acoma’ crepe myrtles and 6-feet of Loquat/Eriobotrya japonica. We also had a tall metal arch that could work for the long side of the patio.

The front panes of the breakfast room window looked across the lawn to an old metal shed, smothered in Hall’s honeysuckle. Seedling crepe myrtles grew against one side pane of the breakfast window, with the sidewalk and grass below. All this had to go - we wanted to see flowers, herbs, birds, bees and butterflies.

As the first winter approached, I planned my long border, dollying pots with selected plants to their future positions along the back fence. I crammed the remaining pots together right up to the edge of the patio, hung the plants with mini-lights and called it our Bistro.

While I puttered around, Philo measured and planned. He had figured out how to enlarge the patio, not by pouring concrete but by using a gravel-type product called decomposed granite, a technique we’d seen on tours of well-known Austin gardens.
His plan was to delineate an area adjoining the perimeter of the concrete, remove the grass and dig out 6 - 8 inches of soil. Philo would use edging to contain the area, we’d replace the soil with one layer of pea gravel, then top it with several layers of decomposed granite totaling 4” in depth, packing each layer in turn. In this way we could keep the furniture and foot traffic on the concrete surface, while using the gravel pads as transitional areas where container plants could meld the patio to lawn and garden.

The first gravel bed was a test. In spring .. we made an 8-foot quarter-circle on the sunny end, fitting it between patio and sidewalk, so that the rosemary and herb troughs could be seen from the breakfast table. We bought the gravel and granite from a nearby organic materials dealer, shoveling them into reusable 5-gallon bags, and loaded the car with 8 or 10 at a time. The herb bed worked well, drained perfectly and looked good all summer.


When fall arrived, we added a second quarter-circle on the opposite end, where it could function both as a walkway to the far end of the yard, and as a place for semi-shade plants. Earlier in .., we’d taken the Loquat out of its pot and planted this broadleaf evergreen tree near the far end. In time, it should add shade and privacy.
We started work on the next stage in March .., when Philo decided to add a two-foot band across the front edge of the patio. He set the edging and we began to dig, sure that this amount of space would be enough.


The metal arch was set into the decomposed granite, a large precast concrete square was set in front of the arch and large containers were placed on each side. I bought our Lady Banks Rose in .., bumping it up to a larger container every year. That’s Lady Banks in bloom on the left side of the arch. This spring I bought a native Coral Honeysuckle/Lonicera sempervirens for the pot on the right. The honeysuckle was very small, and I wanted some scent so I added a second small plant, labeled fragrant Corkscrew vine. I figured they’d be okay together.

Wrong! Although it looked good at first, the non-fragrant vine, now recognized as a Snail Vine, tried to murder the honeysuckle. Another Snail vine was thriving elsewhere, so this one was expendable. After I cut the Snail down to a clump & potted it for adoption, DivaAnnie, who liked its flowers, let it come to her garden. Philo added two more precast squares to make an entrance walk, the rose and honeysuckle did reasonably well, and an annual Cypress Vine was accepted by the main characters for the rest of the summer. But something looked wrong - the shapes of the pots and the arch resembled security barriers guarding an entrance.
Last week we added more gravel to make a curving sort of apron for the arch and took the honeysuckle and rose out of their containers, planting them directly into the ground. The whole area was mulched with the decomposed granite.
So far, it seems to work. The patio looks less blocky with the arch moved forward, no longer in line with the large containers along the front edge. I like the way the vine shapes join the trellis nearer to ground level rather than at the top of the containers. Both the Lady Banks rose and the Coral honeysuckle had minor damage from the move, but they’re recovering, and should do well.

Now I can rework the large patio containers, make better combinations, and transplant more of the plants into the beds and borders. Having a transitional area can be handy as plants grow and change! The Loquat is already making the far end shadier, but we’ll have options, because the gravel areas are mutable and the containers are moveable.



About the frequently used ‘we’ in these posts… it’s not an Editorial 'We' or a Royal 'We'. No other word seems to work for a couple with years of experience in working together on house & garden projects. In this case, it’s Philo who swings the mattock to break up rock layers, and does most of the heavy digging, the heavy thinking, and puts in the edges. I help to fill and haul the granite at the U-Dig place & do most of the plant wrangling and planting. I also do a pretty good imitation of Lucy stomping the grapes to compact the layers of gravel.

Shipping Bicycles: a Delicate Matter?

Over the past couple of years, I have gotten the sense that shipping bicycles in the USA has become increasingly difficult - particularly bikes that are larger and heavier than a standard modern roadbike. Bike boxes aren't typically made large enough anymore, and the correct size can be next to impossible to hunt down.Shipping companies can give dramatically incorrect estimates for what the service will cost (this happened to me the last time I sold a bike and shipped it myself).And there are lots of accounts of bikes getting damaged in transit despite careful packaging.




For the recipient, receiving a damaged bicycle can be heartbreaking - especially if the damage is something major, like a dent in the frame. For the sender, damage in transit can mean having to pay for it, or at least meeting the recipient half way, if the shipment was not insured or the insurance does not come through.




Personally the only way I feel comfortable shipping a bicycle now is via a bike shop. Yes, we can pack bicycles ourselves and we can do an excellent job. But nonetheless we are not recognised as "professionals." Bike shops are. This apparently can play a role if there is damage in transit and an insurance claim is filed. "Was the bike professionally packed?"




Unfortunately not all bike shops are willing to ship bicycles anymore, especially not large or heavy bikes. This seems to be a recent development: A couple of shops in my neighbourhood used to offer this service, but stopped a year or two ago. Still, in my view finding a good bike shop that does provide the service is worth it. And getting the shipment insured is a must.




What has been your experience with shipping or receiving bicycles over the past year? Do you prefer to ship bikes yourself or to use the services of a bike shop? And in cases of damage in transit, how was the situation resolved? Tips and advice much appreciated.

New Petzl Lynx Crampon!

This should stoke up the ice and alpine climbers



The new Lynx crampons from Petzl offers a forged and easily replaceable monopoint or dual point option all done with a single bolt and spacer size with nothing else to cut or "screw" around with! And they are about to be introduced here in North Americalater this week. Typical Petzl designquality. Some cool innovations like having the option of twosetsof boot toe attachment systems with the same crampon. Mono point can be centered or off set, your choice! The front points (single or dbl) can also be adjusted forwards or back or off set, along with twoversions of the toe bail. Much lighter as wellthan the past M10 version.And a much better bott system than the M10. Although I haven't had a chance to weigh a pair yet likely the lightest crampon on the market with replaceable forged front points. Better yet IMO a full set of 12 (yes twelve) down points in addition to the forged front points. Full botts as well. Finally a company did it all in one package! Petzl hasjust upped the game, again!



I'll do a complete review once I get my hands on a pair! (or even better a pair on my boots ;) Delivery should be Nov. , may be even a bit earlier! Retail is being quoted currently @ $240.



Reported weights are:



1080 g (configuration with two points and ANTISNOW)



910 g (configuration with one point, no ANTISNOW)













Shown above for an easy comparisonis theearlier Petzl M10 that is now discontinued.







And thethe obvious rivals that will be slugging it out next winter. And a previous review of the newest BD Stinger here:



http://coldthistle.blogspot.com//01/preview-of-fall--black-diamond.html?showComment=1313220566067#c8734409473319898100





This follow up came later from Petzl:

The new Lynx crampon from Petzl offers a forged and easily replaceable monopoint or dual point. The Lynx will replace the M10. A much lighter replacement and should make a lot of people happy.



Modular crampon for ice and mixed climbing, with new LEVERLOCK universal bindings



From snow couloirs to dry tooling, the LYNX is a versatile crampon. Modular front points allow for many options: dual or mono-point, long or short, and/or asymmetrical. They come with two types of interchangeable front bindings to adapt to boots with or without toe welts.



Selling points:



• Versatile crampons for ice and mixed climbing

• Configuration and length of front points can be modified with one screw:

dual points in short, long or asymmetrical position

offset mono-point in short or long position



• Crampons adaptable to boots with or without toe welts:

interchangeable front bindings: stainless steel toe bail wires for shoes with toe welts, or flexible “Flexlock” style toe bindings for boots without toe welts both types of toe bindings can be adjusted to accommodate shoe width and provide sufficient point length



• LEVERLOCK heel bail is height-adjustable, designed for boots with heel welt

• Integrated front and rear ANTISNOW plates

• FAKIR carrying pouch included

• Marked bars facilitate crampon adjustment



• Comes with:

FAKIR carrying bag (V01)

front and rear ANTISNOW (T24960)

flexible front binding

stainless steel wire heel bail



Product specifications:

Number of points: 14

Boot sizes: 35 to 45 with M linking bar (included), optional L linking bar fits boots sizes 40 to 50 (T20850)

Weight: 2 x 540 g = 1080 g (configuration with two points and ANTISNOW)

2 x 455 g = 910 g (configuration with one point, no ANTISNOW)

Certification(s): CE, UIAA

Spectator Sport

"So I hear you are into cyclocross," said Martina from Clever Cycles as we chatted on the second day of Interbike. I responded with genuine amazement. "Me, into cyclocross? What makes you say that?" And then I remembered that I'd spent the previous evening live-posting a continuous stream of blurry snapshots from Cross Vegas - "the biggest cyclocross race in America." I gave up two other industry events to attend this thing. I guess it did seem like I was pretty into it! But as I was quick to explain, I am only interested in watching, not racing. In fact, of all the forms of cycling out there, cyclocross is the one I am least likely to actually take part in (it combines every aspect of cycling I am terrible at!). Moreover, I had never before been able to tolerate - let alone enjoy - watching sports of any kind. So what makes cyclocross so appealing?






As it happens, Molly Hurford has just written a book that seeks to answer that very question. It's called Mud, Snow, and Cyclocross: How Cross Took Over US Cycling. Having borrowed a copy from the Ride Studio Cafe library, I finished it just days before Interbike. Aside from providing historical context, Hurford's book helped me make sense of my own feelings toward this bizarre sport. As race promoters all over the country have discovered, cyclocross is in many ways the perfect spectator event. And so I thought it might be interesting to describe it from the point of view of someone who is purely a spectator - and a fairly clueless one at that.






To do this, I will backtrack to last year's Interbike, where it all started. I had zero interest in attending Cross Vegas, but tagged along with Chris Kostman, who insisted I should at least stop by ("Come on, you can't go to Interbike and not see this!"). We drove to a giant field on the outskirts of town filled with tipsy people and flooded with electric light. In the distance I could see a colourful blur of bicyclists making their way through an elaborate obstacle course. As the sounds of cowbells and screams filled my ears, I remember wondering: "What am I doing here?" Five minutes later I was leaning over a barrier, ringing a cowbell and having a shockingly great time. And that's pretty much your typical "my first time watching 'cross" story. No one intends to like it, but inevitably they do.






This year we arrived to the spectacle of Elvis performing on stage before the start of the elite races.






Visitors wandered around purchasing water, beer and cowbells.






Cyclists rode around the grass warming up. Bicycles were being adjusted.






Before the crowds became too dense, I got the chance to survey the empty course. Winding around the grassy field, it did not look too technical, though there were lots of tight turns and a couple of short steep hills.





And, of course, these. I still remember how stunned I was when I first saw the riders hop right over them without breaking stride. How is this possible?







And then the race began. First the women's elite race; the mens would be next. Watching the hoard of riders charge cross the start line, the excitement of it all came back to me. I got goosebumps.





The thing is that at a cyclocross race, you can stand so close that you feel the energy of the riders wash over you like a wave.





And this wave is not some abstract poetic concept. It is very real, visceral. Even if you know nothing about race tactics and don't follow the background stories of any of the riders - just standing there and feeling so much human power and speed happening inches from your own body is a physical rush.





Watching track racing is more abstract in comparison, because the riders are further away. And with road racing you can only witness a small portion of the course at a time. But with cyclocross, all is laid out right in front of you in close proximity. The course winds around the spectators; it intertwines with them. There is a feeling that everything is happening everywhere, all at once.





Pressed against the barrier, I can see the riders' flushed faces, gritted teeth, twitching fingers, razor-burned legs. The physicality and rawness of it are overwhelming.





And then there are the technical parts that differentiate cyclocross from other forms of cycling. The obstacles, the vertical uphills, the dismounts and remounts, the bouts of running with the bike. No matter how graceful the rider, there is an intimate awkwardness to these struggles that makes us feel as if we are witnessing something private that perhaps we are not supposed to be witnessing.






Equally intriguing, is when a group of riders is so synchronised in their movements, that the dismounts and remounts appear to be done in choreographed unison - like a staged ballet.





And of course there are things like this - at which point it is the crowd's chorus of gasps that seems choreographed.






Watching first the women's, then the men's race, I noticed differences. The men stuck in larger, tighter clusters while the women were more strung out after the first lap. There were also difference in demeanor and body language - too subtle to describe, but nonetheless there. Watching the two races were separate experiences.






As the lead group of riders made its way through the course, spectators would rush to position themselves in different spots. This too was interesting to watch.






Through the elbows of others, I could see the anticipatory face of each rider as they crossed the finish line.






What struck me was how much they seemed to be savouring the moment, rather than rushing through it. There was a performative, theatrical element to it.






Photographers were everywhere, capturing the action with impressive lenses and flash units. John Watson's Cross Vegas photos on Prolly is Not Probably are especially worth a look.






While my low-light snapshots are far from professional quality, they do reflect my experience of the event as a spectator: dark and chaotic, punctuated with bursts of light and blurs of colour.






I am not sure whether any of this really explains what makes watching cyclocross fun. It is an evasive quality, but ultimately it is about entertainment - genuine entertainment. You don't even have to like sports or racing to enjoy it - though you might surprise yourself by developing a taste for beer and cowbells.






Accessible and awe-inspiring in equal measure, cyclocross strikes the perfect balance between a country fair, a bicycle race, and an alcohol-fueled block party. While the circus of Cross Vegas examplifies this more than typical races, it truly is the ultimate spectator sport.

a date which will live in infamy

photo - remember December 7th poster
http://www.umkc.edu/lib/spec-col/ww2/aboutimages.htm#phposter

photo - USS Bennington
http://www.history.navy.mil/photos/images/u030000/u036055.jpg
The USS Bennington (CVA-20) passes the wreck of USS Arizona (BB-39) in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, on Memorial Day, 31 May 1958. Bennington's crew is in formation on the flight deck, spelling out a tribute to the Arizona's crewmen who were lost in the 7 December 1941 Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Note the outline of Arizona's hull and the flow of oil from her fuel tanks. Official U.S. Navy Photograph.

• University of Missouri - Kansas City Voices of World War II
  
• USS Arizona (BB-39) Memorial at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii
  
• National Park Service USS Arizona Memorial
  
• USS Arizona Preservation Project
  
• National Park Service Photo Gallery
  
• The University of Arizona Library
  
• USS Arizona and Pearl Harbor Remembered

Sharing the couch

A recent photo of my cat, Kasie, and dog, Codee, sharing the couch one evening.

Muscovy love

Amorous Cairina moschata domesticus.

Last summer our friend Jen gave us three white Muscovy ducks (one male and two females).



In the world of domestic ducks, there are Mallards, lots of ducks derived from Mallards, and Muscovies.

In researching Muscovies I was surprised to find how long they'd been domesticated - at least 500 years and possibly more. Columbus saw them in the West Indies.

They don't quack like other ducks; the males hiss and the females make a sort of trilling noise. (The trilling is actually a soothing sound. The hissing, not so much.)

They don't walk like other ducks; the head lunges back and forth while the tail wags from side to side. They pretty much do this when they're standing still too.

They don’t like the water as much as other ducks, but can fly better than most.

They are also fairly ugly. They have bright red warty areas around their bills. The wild version (in Latin America) is mostly black, and is infinitely more attractive. Domestic Muscovies are usually black and white. To me the pure white ones are more handsome.

Everything is exaggerated on the males: their size is much larger, they exhibit bigger lunging movements and more tail wagging, and they have an expanded warty area (for extra ugly).

You might wonder why we wanted them.

Because homestead lore claims that they love to eat mosquitoes. Really though I think that ducks love to eat just about any bug that they can catch.

You can make pets out of chickens, especially if you start handling them when they're very young. But you'll never make friends with a duck. They just don’t want to have that much to do with you.

In this the Muscovies are also different, especially the males. Ours likes to follow us around.

If you stand still anywhere in the yard for more than a minute he'll be right beside you, lunging, wagging, and hissing. If you stand still long enough, he'll nibble at your feet.

While you're still thinking “Oh how cute!” he'll start pulling on your pants leg. At first it seems funny, but if you don't move away within a few seconds, he’ll alternate pinching and stabbing you with his bill. Hard!

Once I figured out this behavior, naturally I tried not to stand still for very long if he's around. But sometimes he's insistent and will run after me. Muscovies are the cheetahs of the duck world. You can't outrun them.

I'm divided on whether this is hate or love on the part of the Muscovy... territorial response or misplaced affection?