Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Gym climbing
Climbed in the gym with Shawn last Sunday. We've got a 5.11 lead route that we've been working on. It's so rewarding to work on projects in the gym because the improvements are so easy to see. This route begins with about 15-20 feet of technical, balancy climbing, and then a dynamic move off of two, smallish crimpy handholds to a bucket. At this point the wall begins to overhang and the sequence to the next clip is challenging. Actually the next three clips are challenging, but I learned that I could indeed do them. Physically and mentally, I learned.
The grand rounds
Ross got an assignment. A secret assignment. He got to write an article for Motorcycle Classics, and because of time and weather pressures he ended up riding the Grand Rounds in the Twin Cities on his Honda CB400f. I followed in the car and took pictures. It's something that I've dreamed of doing on bicycles, but it was actually really great via motorized vehicle. We went through some parts of the cities that I've never been to, which was really a treat. Any one of these cities is certainly big enough that I haven't seen all of it.
Things grow
I don't know why I even posted this picture, cos that was two weeks ago and things are getting huge and green now! We've got tulips with a hint of red beginning to show. Tulips make me so happy. Spring air makes me so happy. I revel in the glossiness and vigor of tulips. I love their gaudy show of color. I delight in their display.A spontaneous haiku.
Tulips are flashy
Some red, some yellow, some pink.
They're askin' for it.
Climate blogging
http://tamino.wordpress.com/
A cool blog I stumbled across today.
Admittedly, I tend to look at the pro-global warming blogs and sites rather than the (in my opinion) wacky nutjob "global warming isn't happening" sites, but the blogs I've looked at seem to belong to intelligent, thoughtful people who really care about science and believe in what they're doing.
A cool blog I stumbled across today.
Admittedly, I tend to look at the pro-global warming blogs and sites rather than the (in my opinion) wacky nutjob "global warming isn't happening" sites, but the blogs I've looked at seem to belong to intelligent, thoughtful people who really care about science and believe in what they're doing.
Motorcycle
I bought Randy's Ducati Monster a couple of months ago. I should post a picture, but I haven't taken one yet. Why, you may ask, do I own three motorcycles when I can only ride one of them at a time? I don't know. Why does Ross own... four cars? And probably ten motorcycles?
But I digress. I've always loved the way the Monster looks; I don't remember who designed it off the top of my head, but I know it was designed by some hotshot Italian designer and it looks it. It's muscular and timeless, a work of art in steel and aluminum, and very masculine. It's also very real-world; it does not force the rider into a contorted, feet-up, hands-down position like a racer-boy. It has a relatively low seat. A civilized ride. Randy bought this one last summer (flat black paint, 750cc) and rode it all year. Ross kept joking with him that it would someday be mine.
But I yielded to temptation and whim early last summer and bought a '99 Honda VFR 800. Ross had found it on Craig's list. He and Everett and I were looking at the listing and admiring it. Ross said, "I should buy this." Everett said, "No, I should buy it." I said, "I should buy it." Ross said, "Yes, you should."
Dear reader, I did buy it. It was a great deal, and I had been wondering if a full-fairing bike would increase my highway confidence. It did, although I still had a world of confidence-building to do. The VFR felt great, stable, and powerful while cruising down highway 100. It felt great, stable and powerful while riding to work.
Then came the day when Ross and I decided to ride up to Viper Motorsports (where Everett works) for their grand opening. It's an hour's drive north of the cities, all on the interstate. And so I discovered that riding for an hour at 70 mph, surrounded by traffic, is absolutely terrifying to me, at least in my relatively neophyte-motorcycle rider status. It's not that I was unable to make all the decisions and actions required of me. It's more the fear of the unknown, the fear of the speed and the lack of confidence in my responses. I never lost control, but I was terrified of what would happen if I did. And the thing is, if I had years of riding under my belt I would have that much more belief in my control and ability. I don't have that yet, and I want to acquire it in a less terrifying mode, in smaller doses.
On top of that scariness, once we got to Viper Everett helped me change the tires on the VFR (I had just bought new ones to replace the worn out ones it came with) so I had to ride home with new, still slippery tires and in the rain, no less! But the ride home was actually far easier. That amount of riding had given me a modicum of comfort-level.
One more VFR part of the story; I rode it to work last fall one day. I left home and pulled up to the stopsign and decided to practice coming to a complete stop rather than a rolling stop. First stopsign, right turn. Second stopsign. Right turn, but there was a manhole cover I decided to avoid by turning more sharply. I gave it gas and let out the clutch, and... I killed the motor. Not enough gas. It lurched forward, already turning, and started tipping. It was too far, I couldn't hold it... it went down, right on the corner, taking me with it. I was fine.
With help I got it up, rode to work, rode home. The only damage was a broken mirror stalk and a few scratches.
So when Ross told me Randy wanted to sell his Monster and would give me a good deal, I jumped. I could sell the VFR in the spring and enjoy the Monster. Those VFR experiences had made me doubt whether it was the bike for me. But the Monster now, there was a handsome bike of manageable proportions, with a tourquey two-cylinder engine, great for cruising around town.
Last week I got the Monster out for a first ride. It needed some fresh gas so I thought I'd just ride to the gas station and back, and then maybe go further. I started it, though the engine showed an alarming tendency to not want to idle, either running too high with the choke, or just dieing with the choke off. I kicked it into gear and rolled down the driveway, feeling very cautious. Through the stopsign and down the street, into second gear and suddenly I felt like I was moving very fast and it wanted to MOVE! I made the right turn, and then the left, and rolled into the gas station with extreme care. After putting a couple of gallons in I slipped the clutch like mad to circle the pumps and head back home. Riding it was terrifying, like holding a massive bull with a piece of yarn. I worked the clutch, fearing that if I let it out too fast the thing would leap away with me and careen across the street.
I got home and started up the driveway, and the thing killed. So there I stood, feet on the ground, one hand on the clutch, one on the brake. I knew I couldn't push it up the driveway; I'd have to start it again and simultaneously let out the clutch, the brake, and give it gas. No way. I let it roll back down to the bottom, started up and cruised up to the garage. Then I got off, went in the house, took off my gear, and cried on Toad's shoulder.
In my defense I was having an emotionally bad day. Work was getting me down. I should have ridden a smaller, friendlier bike for my first ride of the season. But, heck, this was supposed to be my dream bike, and it scared the crap out of me! Ross told me once that he could see the appeal of climbing, but the process of working through the negative fear was too much of a burden for him to make climbing worthwhile. Sometimes I feel that way about motorcycling.
But there are other days. Better days.
But I digress. I've always loved the way the Monster looks; I don't remember who designed it off the top of my head, but I know it was designed by some hotshot Italian designer and it looks it. It's muscular and timeless, a work of art in steel and aluminum, and very masculine. It's also very real-world; it does not force the rider into a contorted, feet-up, hands-down position like a racer-boy. It has a relatively low seat. A civilized ride. Randy bought this one last summer (flat black paint, 750cc) and rode it all year. Ross kept joking with him that it would someday be mine.
But I yielded to temptation and whim early last summer and bought a '99 Honda VFR 800. Ross had found it on Craig's list. He and Everett and I were looking at the listing and admiring it. Ross said, "I should buy this." Everett said, "No, I should buy it." I said, "I should buy it." Ross said, "Yes, you should."
Dear reader, I did buy it. It was a great deal, and I had been wondering if a full-fairing bike would increase my highway confidence. It did, although I still had a world of confidence-building to do. The VFR felt great, stable, and powerful while cruising down highway 100. It felt great, stable and powerful while riding to work.
Then came the day when Ross and I decided to ride up to Viper Motorsports (where Everett works) for their grand opening. It's an hour's drive north of the cities, all on the interstate. And so I discovered that riding for an hour at 70 mph, surrounded by traffic, is absolutely terrifying to me, at least in my relatively neophyte-motorcycle rider status. It's not that I was unable to make all the decisions and actions required of me. It's more the fear of the unknown, the fear of the speed and the lack of confidence in my responses. I never lost control, but I was terrified of what would happen if I did. And the thing is, if I had years of riding under my belt I would have that much more belief in my control and ability. I don't have that yet, and I want to acquire it in a less terrifying mode, in smaller doses.
On top of that scariness, once we got to Viper Everett helped me change the tires on the VFR (I had just bought new ones to replace the worn out ones it came with) so I had to ride home with new, still slippery tires and in the rain, no less! But the ride home was actually far easier. That amount of riding had given me a modicum of comfort-level.
One more VFR part of the story; I rode it to work last fall one day. I left home and pulled up to the stopsign and decided to practice coming to a complete stop rather than a rolling stop. First stopsign, right turn. Second stopsign. Right turn, but there was a manhole cover I decided to avoid by turning more sharply. I gave it gas and let out the clutch, and... I killed the motor. Not enough gas. It lurched forward, already turning, and started tipping. It was too far, I couldn't hold it... it went down, right on the corner, taking me with it. I was fine.
With help I got it up, rode to work, rode home. The only damage was a broken mirror stalk and a few scratches.
So when Ross told me Randy wanted to sell his Monster and would give me a good deal, I jumped. I could sell the VFR in the spring and enjoy the Monster. Those VFR experiences had made me doubt whether it was the bike for me. But the Monster now, there was a handsome bike of manageable proportions, with a tourquey two-cylinder engine, great for cruising around town.
Last week I got the Monster out for a first ride. It needed some fresh gas so I thought I'd just ride to the gas station and back, and then maybe go further. I started it, though the engine showed an alarming tendency to not want to idle, either running too high with the choke, or just dieing with the choke off. I kicked it into gear and rolled down the driveway, feeling very cautious. Through the stopsign and down the street, into second gear and suddenly I felt like I was moving very fast and it wanted to MOVE! I made the right turn, and then the left, and rolled into the gas station with extreme care. After putting a couple of gallons in I slipped the clutch like mad to circle the pumps and head back home. Riding it was terrifying, like holding a massive bull with a piece of yarn. I worked the clutch, fearing that if I let it out too fast the thing would leap away with me and careen across the street.
I got home and started up the driveway, and the thing killed. So there I stood, feet on the ground, one hand on the clutch, one on the brake. I knew I couldn't push it up the driveway; I'd have to start it again and simultaneously let out the clutch, the brake, and give it gas. No way. I let it roll back down to the bottom, started up and cruised up to the garage. Then I got off, went in the house, took off my gear, and cried on Toad's shoulder.
In my defense I was having an emotionally bad day. Work was getting me down. I should have ridden a smaller, friendlier bike for my first ride of the season. But, heck, this was supposed to be my dream bike, and it scared the crap out of me! Ross told me once that he could see the appeal of climbing, but the process of working through the negative fear was too much of a burden for him to make climbing worthwhile. Sometimes I feel that way about motorcycling.
But there are other days. Better days.
Monday, April 16, 2007
finding blog time
I wish I could blog at work, but I don't think that would be appropriate.
I want to blog more.
I want to form a book club.
I want to read, and read, and read.
I want to rediscover the voracious need to create art.
I want to climb.
I want to ride a motorcycle and not be scared.
I want to go on vacation.
I want to win the lottery so I can do all those other things.
I want to blog more.
I want to form a book club.
I want to read, and read, and read.
I want to rediscover the voracious need to create art.
I want to climb.
I want to ride a motorcycle and not be scared.
I want to go on vacation.
I want to win the lottery so I can do all those other things.
An intriguing morning
This was actually a morning last week. On mpr Kerri Miller talked to E.L. Doctorow and then to Anne LaMott. What a pleasure to listen to such profoundly articulate individuals. That just reminded me of how startlingly inarticulate many actors seem when speaking extemporaneously (Tom Cruise, for example). I suppose it has to do with the professionalism of the writer's ability to bring forth thoughts in a rational manner.
When I was in high school my English teacher (Mr. Tom Reiter) recommended "Ragtime" to me. I was utterly, head over heels in love with "Wuthering Heights" and he was trying to point me in some new directions. I wasn't ready for Doctorow, however. I don't even remember why because I really didn't get far with the book. Now after hearing him speak he is freshly added to my mental list of writers I really want to read - along with John Updike, John Irving, Donna Tartt and Barbara Kingsolver, among others.
And then came Anne LaMott, who, in her frankness, her unapologetic selfness, and her genuine ownership of her faith, makes me feel a little braver, a little more willing to own my own truths without needing to excuse or hide them. It made me think about the fact that I've got an ongoing struggle with my sense of selfworth which goes WAY back. Certainly back to middle school days - I have distinct memories of not trusting people to like me. Note: there is a substantial difference between not trusting others to like you, and not liking your self. I've always liked what I am. But that not trusting others to like me... really hits the nail on the head and has shaped a lot of behaviors for me over the years.
But I digress. It was a wonderful, literary morning. It made me excited about reading, and excited about thinking.
When I was in high school my English teacher (Mr. Tom Reiter) recommended "Ragtime" to me. I was utterly, head over heels in love with "Wuthering Heights" and he was trying to point me in some new directions. I wasn't ready for Doctorow, however. I don't even remember why because I really didn't get far with the book. Now after hearing him speak he is freshly added to my mental list of writers I really want to read - along with John Updike, John Irving, Donna Tartt and Barbara Kingsolver, among others.
And then came Anne LaMott, who, in her frankness, her unapologetic selfness, and her genuine ownership of her faith, makes me feel a little braver, a little more willing to own my own truths without needing to excuse or hide them. It made me think about the fact that I've got an ongoing struggle with my sense of selfworth which goes WAY back. Certainly back to middle school days - I have distinct memories of not trusting people to like me. Note: there is a substantial difference between not trusting others to like you, and not liking your self. I've always liked what I am. But that not trusting others to like me... really hits the nail on the head and has shaped a lot of behaviors for me over the years.
But I digress. It was a wonderful, literary morning. It made me excited about reading, and excited about thinking.
argh!
I keep intending to blog! Every weekend! And then time passes and I do other things and the blog gets neglected.
Two weekends ago I went to the climbing gym with my cousin Sara, her husband Chris, and their kids Henrik and Gunnar. Everyone loved it. It was crowded, the Friday before Easter, but we got on a perfect, easy route and the kids built up their confidence.
I went back to the climbing gym the next night with Shawn, and we kicked it on some hard lead routes.
This weekend I went to the gym with Katie and we spent almost the whole time in the lead pit. It was great, because she had been getting into leading but then hurt her finger at the competition and has been easing back into it, and I loved encouraging her to push her limits but stay comfortable and in control. The mental game is such a big part of climbing. That is certainly part of why I love it so. It is a physical activity that really forces you to push your limits - not just the physical but the mental.
Two weekends ago I went to the climbing gym with my cousin Sara, her husband Chris, and their kids Henrik and Gunnar. Everyone loved it. It was crowded, the Friday before Easter, but we got on a perfect, easy route and the kids built up their confidence.
I went back to the climbing gym the next night with Shawn, and we kicked it on some hard lead routes.
This weekend I went to the gym with Katie and we spent almost the whole time in the lead pit. It was great, because she had been getting into leading but then hurt her finger at the competition and has been easing back into it, and I loved encouraging her to push her limits but stay comfortable and in control. The mental game is such a big part of climbing. That is certainly part of why I love it so. It is a physical activity that really forces you to push your limits - not just the physical but the mental.
Monday, April 02, 2007
A sad and soggy weekend
Still sad and confused and dazed about the loss of my coworkers. It rained all weekend and we never went running. I did go climbing at the gym with Katie on Saturday. Climbing with Katie makes me happy. She is just so enthusiastic and we enjoy each other's company while climbing. I feel like I can be a little bit "mentor-y" with her because I've got my years of climbing experience to share, and yet we climb as equals. I've been climbing a bit harder than her, in part because of my years of climbing experience, and in part because she tweaked a finger tendon and is still recovering, but I dig the experience of climbing with another woman.
Still love climbing with Shawn, too, though. There is something distinctly different about it. Shawn is stronger than I am, but I'm close to his level. Perhaps in the same way that Katie is close to my level. Shawn pushes very hard; when I climb with him I end up climbing harder things that are closer to my limit and there certainly is a satisfaction in that. Sometimes I'm not in the right mental space, and then the pushing of the limits can feel intimidating.
Went to St. Cloud to visit Ross' mom on Sunday. I helped her hang some pictures while Ross went to a motorcycle swap meet; then we had lunch, watched a cool show she had taped. Went out to the farm where she keeps her horse and walked the dogs in the woods. It's fun to watch Toad react to the horses.
Still love climbing with Shawn, too, though. There is something distinctly different about it. Shawn is stronger than I am, but I'm close to his level. Perhaps in the same way that Katie is close to my level. Shawn pushes very hard; when I climb with him I end up climbing harder things that are closer to my limit and there certainly is a satisfaction in that. Sometimes I'm not in the right mental space, and then the pushing of the limits can feel intimidating.
Went to St. Cloud to visit Ross' mom on Sunday. I helped her hang some pictures while Ross went to a motorcycle swap meet; then we had lunch, watched a cool show she had taped. Went out to the farm where she keeps her horse and walked the dogs in the woods. It's fun to watch Toad react to the horses.
It's been too long
Been too long since my last post. I intended to post on the previous weekend, and then again this last weekend. Keep doing things that prevent me from posting.
Previous weekend; went climbing with Shawn and Mike to the cliff that Shawn and I were developing down by Rochester. I believe we're calling it Coyote Cliff. It's just outside the tiny hamlet of Hammond, MN, a mere 10 minutes drive from Rochester. The guy who owns the climbing gym in Rochester happened upon this cliff last summer and told Shawn about it. Shawn's been kinda keen on doing new routes, so he dragged me down there. The first time we were there we were really ambivalent about even trying to climb it. There was a lot of brush growing on parts of the cliff, and it all looked dirty and dusty (it's right next to a gravel road). But we bushwacked to the top, set some anchors and rappelled, "cleaning" our routes as we lowered from the top - which involves prying anything loose off of the wall. After a good cleaning we climbed our routes, then did some secondary cleaning, and then eventually bolted a few of them. The purpose of bolting a route is to allow lead climbing. I'm too weary right now to describe the distinction between lead climbing and toproping, but suffice it to say that there are now six bolted routes at Coyote Cliff, as well as about six more that are not bolted.
Anyway, we went there. First outdoor climbing of the year. Mike is a great guy, but I was disappointed that his wife Elizabeth had not come along. They're both really cool people, very intelligent, personable, good climbers, good company. Mike can be VERY funny. He is a fount of movie quotes. We started joking about the dampness of the rock, and whether it was clammy or "oystery". Shawn's best route (and perhaps the best route of the cliff) is called Latrans (the scientific name for Coyote) and involves some delicate, crimpy climbing up a sandy face, then long, powerful moves between positive holds, then a big reach to a alcove/ledge, a slap to a rounded top, and finally a lovely, crimpy sequence to get established in the alcove, and then a desperate lunge to an intermediate and then a good pocket. Then two more pockets to the top. I've never made it past the desperate lunge part. And the crimpy sequence was too wet to climb.
Previous weekend; went climbing with Shawn and Mike to the cliff that Shawn and I were developing down by Rochester. I believe we're calling it Coyote Cliff. It's just outside the tiny hamlet of Hammond, MN, a mere 10 minutes drive from Rochester. The guy who owns the climbing gym in Rochester happened upon this cliff last summer and told Shawn about it. Shawn's been kinda keen on doing new routes, so he dragged me down there. The first time we were there we were really ambivalent about even trying to climb it. There was a lot of brush growing on parts of the cliff, and it all looked dirty and dusty (it's right next to a gravel road). But we bushwacked to the top, set some anchors and rappelled, "cleaning" our routes as we lowered from the top - which involves prying anything loose off of the wall. After a good cleaning we climbed our routes, then did some secondary cleaning, and then eventually bolted a few of them. The purpose of bolting a route is to allow lead climbing. I'm too weary right now to describe the distinction between lead climbing and toproping, but suffice it to say that there are now six bolted routes at Coyote Cliff, as well as about six more that are not bolted.
Anyway, we went there. First outdoor climbing of the year. Mike is a great guy, but I was disappointed that his wife Elizabeth had not come along. They're both really cool people, very intelligent, personable, good climbers, good company. Mike can be VERY funny. He is a fount of movie quotes. We started joking about the dampness of the rock, and whether it was clammy or "oystery". Shawn's best route (and perhaps the best route of the cliff) is called Latrans (the scientific name for Coyote) and involves some delicate, crimpy climbing up a sandy face, then long, powerful moves between positive holds, then a big reach to a alcove/ledge, a slap to a rounded top, and finally a lovely, crimpy sequence to get established in the alcove, and then a desperate lunge to an intermediate and then a good pocket. Then two more pockets to the top. I've never made it past the desperate lunge part. And the crimpy sequence was too wet to climb.
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