Plant Life at White Sands

I was amazed at the variety of plants and vegetation that survive in the dunes of White Sands National Monument. The dunes are constantly on the move, engulfing everything in their path and then slowly uncovering them again. Certain plants have adapted to the environment and manage to survive a little longer – as the sand covers them they grow taller, but when the dune moves on and leaves them exposed they can no longer support their tall growth and then they crumble and die. These are but a few of the plants I saw...



















There was seldom an expanse of the dunes (close to the road) where there were no human footprints. I walked as far as my legs would take me before the knee began hurting and then turned back. There were other footprints in the sand besides those of us humans - - these prints descended the high dune to the ground about 30 feet below and at a very steep angle! Was it a kit fox? They have adapted to the environment by being very small, no more than 5 pounds. They seldom show themselves during the daylight hours.





All photos were taken on Friday, January 6th, ...

Coco the Super Hero

I wrote about the less than obedient Coco the other day, and while resizing some pictures, I realized that although she has her own agenda at times, she is so much fun to take hiking because she turns into a super hero when we go.



We could sit and watch her run for hours.



We think it is especially cool to watch her leap into the air while jumping over things:



And then there is that not so obedient part again...where she runs into the water and drinks it...and gets sick from it. Leaving messes that Nathan has to clean up. She knows she is in trouble:



And being the dutiful grandmother, I have to share a beauty shot of her. I'm forcing myself to shoot in manual mode since I'm about five years overdue on it, and she is doing a great job of being my favorite model for the time being.

Ok, enough about the dog. Because although I love this dog, it is pretty ridiculous when I have two blog posts about her this week and none of the kids!



Living the life in oh so sunny and WARM Florida!

Tombstone Tuesday :: Hazlette & Ray Ferguson

FERGUSON
HAZLETTE A. / 1902 - 1984
RAYMOND A. / 1890 - 1967
Hazlette Aileen Brubaker Phend Phend Dunn Ferguson, whom I and my siblings and cousins called Grandma Dunn and later Grandma Fergie, is buried in the Scott-Keister Cemetery in Etna Troy Township, Whitley County, Indiana near other family members. Grandma was married four times but only had three husbands! She was married to my grandfather, Vic Phend, twice.

The record of her marriage to Harold Dunn has eluded me but I found their divorce record in Dekalb County, Indiana which stated that they were married on September 8th 1945. That marriage lasted less than two years. In 1964, grandma married Ray "Fergie" Ferguson. It wasn't until a few years ago when I obtained their marriage record that I found out that they were married on my birthday! I suppose he must have been a decent fellow but I didn't much care for him. He passed away in April 1967.

A user survey?

photo by http://charizard4ever1.deviantart.com/




I am always curious as to what makes Cold Thistle "work". The blog started simply as a way for me to keep track of the gear I was interested in and likely to purchase at a some point. There are days now that I link whatI find interesting on the Internet unwilling or unable to get anything new written.



Here is an opportunity to add your own voice to what you find of interest. Thanks for the input!



https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/ColdThistle

Mount Healy

After returning from Savage River, we decided to take another hike. The weather was similar to what we had left earlier in the day – cloudy skies with scattered sunshine. The trail started out easily enough leaving from the visitor center and going through the taiga forest. But this trek was more than a little strenuous with a 500 foot elevation gain in the first mile and 1200 foot gain in the second. After six weeks of no hiking, my legs and lungs were screaming “Stop!” but not wanting to admit defeat nor to be left behind by Sue and Fred, it was onward and upward.

Views like this is what makes it worth the effort! About half-way up to the top.

Sue and me on top of Mt. Healy.

The view from the top. The park entrance, Visitor Center, and Wilderness Access Center complexes are in the left foreground “beneath” the rocks.

Fred and Sue, heading back down.

A portion of the lower trail. Since the ground is frozen much of the year, the trees have shallow roots. I wonder, how many feet have trod over these roots? And yet, the tree still lives!

The top of Mt. Healy. We was up there!

While Fred and Sue fixed supper, I laid on the picnic table bench and watched the clouds pass by.

More rando boot reviews worth a look...

If you ever wonder what I look at and pay attention to forreviews here are a couple that would have helped with my own decision making.



http://outerlocal.com/skiing/scarpa-alien-1-0-vsdynafit-dy-n-a-evo-review



http://outerlocal.com/skiing/scarpa-alien-review



http://tetonsandwasatch.com//dynafit-dyna-pdg-boot-review/



http://tetonsandwasatch.com//scarpa-alien-1-review/



http://l-caldwell.blogspot.com//11/dynafit-dyna-pdg-boot-review.html



http://outerlocal.com/skiing/scarpa-alien-1-0-review2-review

Mother's Day

My mother, in her youth.

My mother is the nicest person I have ever known.

Some things about my mother:

She grew up on a farm, and had to work in the fields every day. But her father believed strongly in education. So if the kids were studying, they didn't have to work. (They did a lot of studying.)

When she was a little girl, she had Scarlet Fever, a disease in which (among other things) your skin turns red and peels. She thought that when all the old skin peeled off, she’d get a new name. The name she wanted was “Marthateen".

She left home at age 15.

She was the first in her family to earn a college degree.

My father used to say that he had to pester her into marrying him.

She first worked at the Power company, then was a high school teacher until I was born.

She is very crafty, but can also do things like building cabinets, laying rock for patios, and repairing garage doors.

Until recently, she did all her own yard work, and always got up on the roof to clean the gutters... well into her 70s.

She can run rings around me.

Digging through my grandmother's closets as a teenager, I learned two things about my mother that she'd never told me:

She learned to fly an airplane before she learned to drive a car.

She did, despite repeated assurances to the contrary, have a middle name. One she despised. Since I hated my middle name through all of grade school, I could relate. (Hers was way worse than mine.)

Sunset Over SLO

Sunset Over SLO, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Yesterday's sunset from the top of Poly Mountain in San Luis Obispo, California. There were actually a few clouds, which made things a bit more interesting than usual.

The plant in the foreground is "out lord's candle", Yucca whipplei. The yuccas grow in abundance on the mountain, and the sharp leaves can be a pain for hikers' legs.

Summer blooms

Remember the Frost flowers from earlier in the year? This is how they look in the summer:


White crownbeard (Verbesina virginica).


Heal-all or Self-heal (Prunella vulgaris).


A thing that looks like Blackeyed Susan, but may actually be a type of Sunflower, but I'm not really sure.


Passionflower or Maypop (Passiflora incarnata).
The fruit is edible. I tried it once - it tastes like lemonade. Like a pomegranate though, it's somewhat difficult to eat.


Mimosa pods. For a horrible alien invasive they sure look nice. (And at least they stick to the edges.)

Some other very interesting flowers. Really, they're quite unique. Click to see what I mean. I can't decide whether I like the pitcher plant or the nautilus shell the best. If you happen to have several thousand extra dollars just lying around, you can surprise me. Oh and wouldn't a Venus flytrap be great in this series?!

The Bostonians: A Meeting of Cousins

On a lovely Sunday afternoon in Boston, my Royal H. mixte ran into a cousin...an ANTLady's Boston Roadster of the same colour.



I promise the ANT is not mine. But whoever it was built for certainly has a similar taste in bicycles.



Sage green loop frame, cream Delta Cruiser tires, brown leather saddle, cork grips and huge copper panniers - I think the combination looks great. And notice that the rims are powdercoated the same colour as the frame.



It's fairly accurate to say that my Royal H. and this ANT are related. Not only because both were made by Bostonian frame builders and have similar "complexions," but also because some time ago Mike Flanigan (of ANT) gave Bryan Hollingsworth (of Royal H.) the new-old-stock mixte lugs that made the construction of my bicycle possible.



Like my mixte, the ANT roadster was built with racks and dynamo lighting. Looking at the "cycling landscape" in Boston today, I think it is important to credit ANT for resurrecting the notion that transport bikes should be built with these features. I see more and more bicycles now with dynamo lighting, whereas as recently as a year ago people would stop and ask me why my front hub was so large, amazed when I would explain that the lights are powered by pedaling. And racks are now pretty much the norm on city bicycles, whereas a year or two ago they were an anomaly. ANTbikes, and the younger local builders whose work is influenced by them, played a crucial role in this change.



It is nice to live in a city that is home to so many excellent frame builders, and to spontaneously "meet" other local handbuilt bicycles. The bike pictured here was actually the second ANTI saw today. Earlier, I was stopped at an intersection and heard the cyclist behind me say "Sick bike! Where did you get it?" I started telling him aboutRoyal H. and handbuilt frames, then realised that he was riding a blackANT when he pulled up beside me. "Hey, yours is an ANT!" What a weird thing to bond over, bicycles. Encounters like these make me feel like a character out of a 1950s sitcom, where neighbours wave and smile to one another and the mailman whistles a happy tune.

Time Trial Country

"Mind you, this is only a club time trial," Chris Sharp explains as we set off toward the start on our bikes. But a small club event is exactly what I want to see. The riders in the spirit of competition, but still in their element. The local atmosphere.This is what I think is known as a training racein the US. Staged fairly frequently, it allows riders to test their fitness at different points in the season.





Time trials are a very particular form of racing, and a long standing tradition in the UK and Ireland. In the year 1890 bicycle racing was banned on public roads, permitted only on indoor tracks. This ban brought about a new form of racing, done under the radar of the law. Instead of racing each other outright, cyclists would start at individual intervals and race against the clock. Without drafting or riding in a bunch, there was nothing overtly identifying their activities as a road race. Participants wore no race numbers or club jerseys, adapting instead a style of all-black attire. Races were held in secret, the dates and start times shared through word of mouth. Part secret society, part act of rebellion, the tradition of time trials was born. And although the road racing ban has long since been lifted (I believe in the 1950s), time trials remain popular in the British Isles.






Here in the Roe Valley - a coastal region in the Western part of Northern Ireland - the landscape lends itself to time trials remarkably well. There are long, flat stretches with very little car traffic, where it's possible to pick up some real speed. There are also small, but quite steep mountains for hill climb time trials. Pick whichever you like, or try both.




On this particular evening, members of the Roe Valley Cycling Clubgather to compete in a 25 mile time trial: Two loops along the scenic coastal roads, twice crossing the beautiful river Roe. We pull into a parking lot outside of Limavady, just as the riders are assembling their bikes and getting prepared.





For those unaccustomed to modern time trial equipment, both the bikes and the riders are a sight to see.Aero bars, aero tubing, aero wheels, aero helmets...





Since drafting is not permitted, much of time trialing is about reducing the individual rider's air resistance. The specialised equipment is designed to facilitate this. The rider's position is quite aggressive, with a steep seat tube and set-forward saddle placing them right over the bottom bracket. In the aero position, they ride with a flat back.





I try not to bother the racers at the start, but they are friendly and relaxed.








We meet several of them, including Laura Maxwell - Junior Ladies Ulster Hill Climb champion -whom Chris has been coaching for the past 4 years.




Recently turned 17, this is Laura's last year racing as a junior on limited gearing. Having trained for 10 mile time trials so far, the evening's 25 mile course would be a new challenge.She is the only junior and the only female racing today.






Once the riders' bikes are prepped, all gathered move on from the parking lot to the start of the race - a field along an adjacent road.






These are race marshals, riders, some family members there as support crews, even a few spectators.






I meet Wallace Donaghy. In the 1950s he raced with theCity ofDerry Wheelmen, time trial and road. No longer racing himself, he comes to watch the local riders. Today Wallace rides a Raleigh Appalachian - a lugged steel mountain bike circa 1989. He also has a carbon race bike. He examines my titanium frame as we discuss frame materials, waiting for the race to start.






The riders line up for their starts at intervals. Watching this is fascinating.






A marshall holds the bike by the saddle as the rider clips in, then continues to hold the bike in place. Another marshall then starts counting back from 15 seconds.






When the sign to go is given, it appears as if the marshall at the back is simply letting go of the saddle and the rider slingshots forward. In fact, it's explained to me, the marshal gives the rider a little push, allowing them to start in a bigger gear that otherwise feasible.






As the rider takes off, they start off holding the wider set of handlebars. These somewhat resemble "bullhorns," and are equipped with inverse brake levers.






Standing on the pedals and rocking the bike back and forth, the rider quickly gets up to speed and switches to the aero position. This is exciting to watch. They take off in a violent sort of dance, before finally turning smooth as liquid as they disappear into the distance.






Once all the riders take off, we cycle over to a spot just before the finish line to watch them race at speed. They would be passing us twice, the course consisting of two laps.





Some time passes before we see them, but finally we spot the first rider in the distance. The support crews and spectators cheer for them, then the next and the next.





When we spot Laura, the crowd goes wild - her mother, sister and uncle.






On her second go around the course, I stand closer to get a better look. She is in the zone, head down, eyes forward, a faint smile on her lips as she flies past us. Her posture on the bike is amazing: Her entire body perfectly still, except for the legs going round and round in circles.






One by one I watch the riders pass. There is an almost coccoon-like stillness around each one, as if each is in their own little world, surrounded by a force field.






On the final lap, I watch one rider pass another. This can be quite challenging in a time trial: The rider must pass immediately, since they are not allowed to draft.






Making our way to the finish, we arrive to the sight of riders cooling down, drinking, chatting with each other about the race. Laura did well, particularly considering the new distance. The numbers don't mean much to me yet, but I am interested nonetheless and listen to the rider's chatter intently.






The sun begins to set. This happens slowly here. It will not be dark for hours yet. The riders set off to their homes, in surrounding towns, villages and farms. I put my camera away and get back on my bike. "How did you like that, then?" Chris asks. I shake my head and smile, as we cross the River Roe for the 3rd time that evening. Of all the things I saw, it's the stillness of the riders that is etched in my memory. The absolute stillness against the wind, with only the legs going round in circles.