Gold Finches

We see gold finches here in the spring and the fall when they are migrating. I don't know where they go to the north or south of us. They are strange little birds that the house cats find easy to catch which I don't like. The first photo is of one I found on the shoe scrapper outside of our front door. It seemed very tired and I assumed hot as it was a very hot day. So I tried to set a bowl of water by it but it flew away. I do hope it servived. The other photo is one I took of a gold finch eating the seeds off of an Apache plume bush near a creek. These cute little finches do eat lots of seeds off of my zinnas, and small sunflowers.

Such a Flirt!

Each time we visit the Wildlife Refuge, the ostriches amuse me. They can be busy doing whatever, and when they see us they always make their way over to the fence. Which is quite different than every other animal there.



They remind me of Ambir when she was young because they just move closer and closer posing for the camera.



And with their beautiful lashes, they end up looking like quite the flirt! I'm ready for my close up, Mr. Deville!



Living the life in Florida!

Southeast Aurora

Fromthis pastweekend's incredibly awesome geomagnetic storm. You know it's an excellent display of the northern lights when the best views are no longer to the north! This particular formation of the Aurora was actually emanating up from the southeast horizon! This was a 20 second exposure taken at ISO 1600 with a Canon EOS 5D Mark II camera and Canon EF 17-40mm lens.

Little Switzerland North Carolina

From Strange to Familiar

For the first time in a long time, I've been riding for transportation along routes that started out as uncharted territories. As it often goes, at first these routes seemed hostile, strange. Unfamiliar towns. Different patterns of motorist behaviour than what I'd gotten used to. But over time, the trips grew familiar, peaceful, and therefore unremarkable. This reminded me why I write so much less frequently now about transportation cycling than I used to: because nothing "happens." Whether my commute is 2 miles or 22 miles, nothing about the process is really novel anymore. With roadcycling, there is still the rush of going a longer distance, discovering a new route, learning a new skill, riding with a new group or partner. But with commuting, things have become automated.




Most of all, I tend to forget the spectacleI make of myselfwhen I - a woman in a long belted overcoat, knee high boots and a beret - ride a weird bike through areas where such sights aren't as normal as they are in Boston Metro. Drivers roll down their windows in freezing temperatures just to get a better look at me. No one has honked or gotten angry with me yet for being on the road; I think they are too stunned to.




The other day I was just riding along, heading homeward, when I sensed a car hovering behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw it was a white minivan. The sun was in my eyes and I could not make out the driver. I got a little nervous and moved over to the right encouraging them to pass me, but they kept hovering. Finally, the van did pass, only to pull over to the side of the road in front of me. A woman jumped out and started waving her arms wildly, beckoning me to stop. Out of the windows I could now see several children's heads peeking out. So I braked and put a foot down tentatively, hoping this was not some trap to kidnap me and harvest my organs. And the woman shouted "Oh my God, I just wanted to tell you I love your bike and your outfit!" She asked some questions about the bike and where I was going, and was stunned by my answers. What about a bike that could fit her kids? (Just two kids, the others in the van were the neighbours'.) Yes, there are those kinds of bikes as well, I told her, and described the different options. She was so excited, it was really quite marvelous. A little extreme to pull the minivan over to talk to me, sure, but I'll take it over driver hostility any day. What started out as being strange to her became familiar. These are good encounters.

Adieu, Crooked River

Georgia has been left behind. I won't say I'll never go back, but after 2 weeks and 2 days at Crooked River State Park in St. Marys, Georgia I think I've had enough of it for now. Crooked River is a very nice park. It has lovely trails. The people were friendly. For the most part, I enjoyed my time there. But it was cold. And it rained. A lot. Seemed like every other day it was raining.

But a change in location does not always mean there will be a good change in the weather. I came south, into Florida hoping for a little more warmth. The first (and second) morning here I woke up with frost on the windows! Night time temps have been in the low 30s and daytime highs have been in the low 50s all this year. I can say that “this year” because it is only five days into the new year. I sure hope I'm not able to say that for very much longer!

I didn't take a lot of pictures at Crooked River. Like my friend TJ says, a tree is a tree, a river is a river, and one pretty much looks like another. I didn't take many sunset or sunrise photos either. The campsite was in a shaded area and it was hard to tell when the sun was coming up, when it finally decided to show it's face. There were a few sunsets that had a nice “after glow” but, well, they didn't get photographed either.

I took a lot of walks, just to keep warm. And spent a few hours in the library, but it was closed half the time I was there. Silly Holidays, you know?

I'm into my fifth month of traveling. It's really hard to believe that so much time has gone by. Speaking of time, I have no concept of time. I seldom “know” what time of day it is. Or how much time has passed since the last time I ate. I eat when I get hungry, not according to some established schedule.

Many of my posts while on the road have mentioned the weather. Actually, most of them have. Thing is, the weather is what governs what I do and when I do it and whether I enjoy it or not. And, the weather is the one thing that I have no control over. There is nothing I can do about it. I don't affect it, it affects me. It is what it is.

This morning I awoke to the sun rising over the tree tops. A short while later I saw clear blue skies. So, even though it was 30-something I went for a walk in the woods. The movement warmed my blood. The trees and birds and unknown somethings scurrying in the underbrush warmed my soul. The sun is shining. It's a beautiful day. What more could I ask for? (Warmer temperatures, that's what!)

My campsite at Crooked River State Park. The tent was purchased that morning. After coming back to the campground the previous night and finding someone had pulled their rig into my site (even though my tag was on the post and my bicycle chained to the picnic table), I decided that I needed a “presence” in camp even when I wasn't there. It's been a godsend, especially with the cool/cold weather. A small electric heater makes it a cozy place in the evenings. And, no, I don't sleep in the tent – a cot and warm sleeping bag in the van are my nightly resting place.

A tree is a tree. But these are at Crooked River. Really.

The roots of a tree that was long ago downed, by what? The forces of Nature or those of Man? Even in “death” it is Magnificent.

A palm frond, after the rain.

Another Pony

When Star was 3 I came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to get very big. She is big enough, and strong enough for me to ride, but not the most trust worthy horse. And at the same time the horse next to her at the stable where I was boarding her came up for sale. After trying him a few times I knew I had to have him, just as I had been determined to have Star when I first saw her. My new horse, and I say horse lightly as he isn't much bigger than Star, is a black Morgan gelding. At that time he was 9 and is about 14 now. BlackJack is a great riding horse. He was well trained when I got him. He is just big enough to be a horse, 14 1/2 hands, but is short enough that I can get on him. He is smart. He always knows what you want and he is ready to go. Unlike Star who is lazy. Jack isn't a solid black horse, he has brown around his muzzle and on his flanks, as well as a white star on his face too. Being a Morgan he is very strong. He is usually very well mannered with people but can be a bully with the other horses. He wants to be the boss with his own kind. He and Star are totally attached to each other now, especially Star who will holler and through a fit when separated from Jack. Jack is my trail horse. He doesn't care much for riding around in circles in the pens but loves to get out and explore our desert trails. I am so glad I finally have a home where I can ride my horse, that I had wanted so long, right out my gate and down the road.

Researching Mount Rainier's Glaciers

Everyday, climbers inquire about thinly covered crevasses, glacier conditions, or that “bergschrund” on top of the Emmons. And we’re here to share what we know about the Emmons, Kautz, Tahoma and other major glaciers on Mount Rainier. But we also wanted to let you know that the NPS is actively monitoring these glaciers in an effort to better understand how the climate is affecting them and how these glaciers are affecting the mountain and the surrounding areas. This is important stuff when you consider that Mount Rainier’s glaciers are a primary water source for many Washingtonians, while at the same time a potential geological threat to communities in the floodplains downstream.

Basic Science Recap: Glaciers are permanent sheets of flowing ice that erode mountain slopes, carve valleys, and affect the geography of the park. Rainier’s glaciers have an “accumulation zone” (where more snow gathers than melts) and an “ablation zone” (where more snow melts than accumulates). The most recent detailed measurements (1913 to 1994) on Mount Rainier indicate that the combined glacial area has receded by a 1/5th, and that the total volume of glacier mass has decreased by 25%.

The Nisqually and Emmons are part of a long-term monitoring program making them the most scientifically prodded glaciers in the park. The current study is a cooperative venture between Mount Rainier and North Cascades National Parks and includes field measurements of snow depth, snow density, and snow/ice melt. It includes an annual series of terrestrial, aerial and satellite images. To better understand what's going on, researchers place “ablation sticks” (PVC poles) at various elevations and locations on the Emmons, Ingraham and Nisqually Glaciers. In the spring, researchers us a steam drill to sink these stakes into the winter snowpack until they reach the glacier ice. Then throughout the season, researchers measure the snow accumulation and more importantly, the rate of snow melt. This allows them to calculate the net balance of the overall snow and icepack. The graph below shows the results gathered since 2003. As you can see, the overall mass balance of the ice is decreasing.

So why are we sharing this geeky science information? Well, we like it, but also because climbers have been noting the PVC poles buried on the glacier and have asked, “What’s the plastic pipe all about?” Those PVC poles are the measuring sticks. If you keep your eyes peeled on your next summit attempt, you may note one or two of them on the Muir Snowfield, Nisqually, Emmons, or Ingraham Glaciers. If you do see them, please do not disturb or remove them.

For more information on the glacier monitoring being conducted by North Cascades National Park, check their website. And if you’re interested in the historical Mount Rainier glacier studies referenced above, check out the “Glacier and Glacier Changes” homepage on the Mount Rainier website.

Photo contributed and graph by North Cascades researcher Jeanne Wenger.

_____________________Nick Hall______________________

It's been one long year since we lost you.

We won't ever forget your friendship or your style.

Thanks for the inspiration to do more, do it better.

The mountains are still out there.

We're still climbing.

Miss you a ton.

The Snow is Melting...Already!

One thing that fascinated me when we lived in Virginia was how quickly snow melts here.



I lived much of my life in Michigan and snows melts at the end of spring. If it is a warm year.



Otherwise, snow falls on the ground. More snow falls on the ground on top of that snow and the cycle continues all winter long. At some point the ground is covered with dirty snow. Not real appealing at all to look at and it gets slick to walk on.



Here it stays nice and clean until it melts and then it is just a memory. I can handle snow like that! It will probably be all melted by tomorrow at this rate!



Living the life in fickle VA!

Misadventures on the MUP

Last evening was a low point for me... I yelled at someone on the Minuteman Trail. I was cycling home after a ride, and the trail was more or less empty. I am normally ever-vigilant for dogwalkers and baby carriages suddenly appearing out of nowhere, but this time I had let down my guard. I was going faster than I normally do on the trail, when from around the bend, three cyclists - traveling three abreast and taking up the entire width of the path - came barreling toward me at a similarly unadvisable speed. They were chatting and the cyclist who was headed for a direct collision with me had her face turned toward her friends instead of looking ahead of her. Time froze and I kept expecting that any instant now she'd see me and get out of my line of travel, but she didn't. Not wanting to end up in the bushes or in a pile of bikes and limbs, my mind went blank and I heard myself scream "MOVE!" in a tone of voice that was so menacing that I even scared myself.



It got their attention and a collision was avoided. But as I continued on my way, I heard a distinct "and a nice day to you, too!" from the direction of their receding forms. I felt a wave of shame wash over me. Sure, in a perfect world I would have yelled "excuse me" or "watch out" instead. But I yelled the first thing that popped into my head, and if I didn't we could have both been in the hospital right now.



Multi Use Pathways can be difficult for cyclists precisely because of situations like this. The trails are narrow and those who travel along them do not always behave predictably. Joggers wearing sound-proof earphones, rollerbladers veering from side to side, dogwalkers brandishing those terrifying invisible leashes stretched across the path, unsupervised children making spontaneous U-turns on their tricycles... It's a jungle out there. If I could easily do so, I would avoid MUPs entirely, but the alternative route out of town is 10 miles on a very busy road. So I try to be cautious, stick to a moderate pace and hope for the best. How do you deal with MUPs?

Charlie Borgh

If everyone will please pardon my digression from the immediate issues of Mount Rainier, so that I can talk about my friend Charlie Borgh.

I met Charlie on a trip to Mount Rainier’s summit. During the ascent, and subsequent overnight on the summit, it became clear to me that Charlie had a vision of his life. As a young man about to finish college, Charlie was amassing the skills and experiences to lead the life of an accomplished climber. I recognized the love and passion, and from that time on the summit, knew that mountains were going to be a big part of Charlie.

For the next four years, I witnessed Charlie develop as both a mountain climber and a park ranger. When it came to climbing, I can confidently say that few pursued the sport with as much diligence. He simply loved rock climbing and mountaineering, AND he was quite good at it. Physical and strong, Charlie moved through the mountains, over the rock, or up the ice with grace and confidence. He chose climbing routes that were beautiful, technical and challenging. He recently commented that in the last year he had done more climbing than most people in do in a lifetime… And if you spent much time with Charlie, you knew this was true.

Charlie served as a National Park Service Climbing Ranger. He started as a volunteer at Camp Schurman, but quickly climbed the ranks to become a lead climbing ranger on Mount Rainier. Charlie’s assignments as a climbing ranger required him to delicately mix intense physical ability with sound judgment and excellent decision making. The job was adventurous and dynamic and that seemed to suit Charlie well. So well in fact, that he took assignments at Yosemite on the prestigous search and rescue team in Camp 4.

On Mount Rainier, he led climbing patrols and rescues. On more than one occasion, Charlie risked his life to save another. He didn’t do this carelessly, but purposefully and with confidence. He was an important part of our team, and I trusted him implicitly. Which was something he seemed to enjoy, trust. In fact, I say that Charlie blossomed when trusted, and the responsibility that came with it.

Maybe most impressively, was the simplicity at which Charlie enabled himself. He pursued a challenging path for his life and it was inspiring to watch. Charlie succeeded at most anything he set his mind to, and in succeeding, he led and motivated others to do the same. He made choices that reflected his soul and passion; he was living his life with purpose and direction, things that we all can look up to.

Here are few links to stories about Charlie. Charlie Borgh loved climbing, despite danger. These two require free registration but tell the story of a dramatic rescue in 2004 that Charlie took part in. In the Seattle PI, Injured climber dies after rescue and in the Seattle Times, Injured mountain climber dies after daring rescue.

Information about the accident was posted here. In the next few days, I'll put more up about Gabe Coler, Mount Deltaform and a Pacific NW memorial for Charlie.

Purple Door

I liked this purple door and bench by an art gallery.

Showtime with the Lipizzan Horses

I have visited these horses and wrote about them enough times that I'm beginning to feel like a dating ad when I talk about them. It's hard to not talk about how fabulous they are when you share pictures of them. They are such gorgeous creatures.




They are strong, impressive creatures!



They even have great hair!



What I don't think I've talked about yet, is the fact that they are clearly trained to be showmen.



Since I don't speak horse, I have no idea if they enjoy us being there or not. But I can tell they are comfortable and used to us being there by how they interact with the crowd.



If those pictures were not proof enough, check out this one.

Best.Horse.Shot.Ever.



I swear he was looking at me saying," and hoooolllldddiiinnnngggg...please just take the shot already!"




Love the Lipizzaner horses. Living the life in sunny Florida.

Echoes of Bikes Past: Yamaguchi Mixte

At a gathering of vintage bicycle enthusiasts last week, I spotted this unusual machine and made my way toward it through the sea of French constructeurs. "Aha!" said the owner, "I brought this one especially for you to look at." Yamaguchi Bicycles, Japan. Year, model, and history unknown. Not collectable. Not worth much. Not of interest to many. But what attracted me was its surprisingly elegant combination of design elements not usually seen on the same bike: a mixte frame, roadster geometry, 26" wheels, rod brakes, full chaincase. The colour - straddling the border between beige and mauve - reinforced the theme of blending.






Despite its obscure pedigree, the Yamaguchi was a hit with the vintage collectors; there was just something about the way everything harmonised. It also "looked light" despite weighing over 50lb.






From a historical perspective, an interesting feature of the bike is the very early Shimano 3-speed trigger shifter. I have never seen one of these before, and could not find examples online allowing me to establish the date of manufacture.






As far as frame construction, it is neat how they kinked the right lateral stay so that it would clear the massive chaincase, then routed the shifter cable and dynamo wiring along that stay.






Another interesting thing is how thoroughly branded this bicycle is: Every part of the frame, many of the components, and even the bolts used sport the Yamaguchi name.






Yamaguchi fender ornament.






Yamaguchi cranks, including dust caps.






Yamaguchi saddle.








Noticing a decal that mentioned motorcycles, I incorporated that into my search and found mention of a company that went out of business in the late 1950s. This could be them. Later a reader posted a link to a Japanese blog showing some photos of Yamaguchi "Gold" roadsters, which is the only other significant mention of the brand I've encountered so far.







Over the decades, bicycle manufacturers all over the world have come and gone. Some of them have left a mark in history and others disappeared without a trace. The Yamaguchi roadster-mixte is in the latter category, which makes its elaborate branding and unusual design all the more intriguing. Did the manufacturer have plans for this bike to become popular, or was it merely a promotional item for their motorcycles? How many of these were produced? How did this one make its way to the US? These things we may never know.






Recently a friend and I were talking about all the new bicycle brands popping up on the market today, and speculating which of them will last. History suggests that most will not. But maybe now - with all the forum chatter and other electronic traces of things - we will be left with more detailed records of the brands that disappear. Stories of failure are just as historically significant as stories of success, and it's a pity these stories tend to get lost. Trying to reconstruct them is one reason I like finding obscure vintage bikes.