Monday, August 20, 2007
I did ride the Monster again!
I took it out, and it was a completely different beast! No longer the clutch-monster, that terrifies me with it's barely leashed power. Ross changed the setting on the adjustable clutch lever, and it made all the difference. It's kind of cold-blooded, but once it got warmed up it purred, and it handled so magnificently. It is rock solid, so planted in the ground. It gave me great confidence in curves... more so than the CB-1, I have to say. Which shocks me. But then again it is over 10 years newer. It has a wonderful engine note, and I've always loved the looks. Ah, I'm so happy.
Always something new in climbing
Weekend before last, Taylor's Falls with Shawn. We climbed several things and ended up at the Wisconsin strip. Set two ropes, one between Batman and Walking on Air, the other on Deutschler's Corner. A couple from Chicago was just leading up Lloyd's Lament. They asked if there were any good 5.7s to lead, and we discussed the lamentable absence of 5.7s at Taylor's Falls. Recommended the 5.6 slab route as a good option. Shawn said they should feel free to climb on our ropes, too.
Shawn and I cruised Batman and Walking on Air, exploring the pitiful gear placements on Batman in preparation for some mythical future lead attempt. It's not that we're not perfectly capable of climbing it; it's just that the two gear placement options come right after the two cruxes of the route, so if you fell at the top crux you'd fall at least twenty feet.
Nope. Not me.
Then, Deutschler's Corner. It starts with this horrendous position, in which you're standing at the top of a steep slope with the vertical wall on your left, and you have to put a toe on a non-existent foothold, your left hand on a nothing of a crimp, and just jump up to a sharp-edged ledge for your right hand, while your right foot slides desperately across the rock to keep you from twisting off. I had tried it before and utterly failed to make that opening move. The first time on this occasion I flailed on it but gradually came close to getting it; I actually latched the sharp hold with my fingertips but couldn't hold on.
Second time on the rope, I just visualized, toed up, and did it. Latched it, stopped the swing. Then proceeded to climb the whole thing clean! 5.10d is mine.
Shawn and I cruised Batman and Walking on Air, exploring the pitiful gear placements on Batman in preparation for some mythical future lead attempt. It's not that we're not perfectly capable of climbing it; it's just that the two gear placement options come right after the two cruxes of the route, so if you fell at the top crux you'd fall at least twenty feet.
Nope. Not me.
Then, Deutschler's Corner. It starts with this horrendous position, in which you're standing at the top of a steep slope with the vertical wall on your left, and you have to put a toe on a non-existent foothold, your left hand on a nothing of a crimp, and just jump up to a sharp-edged ledge for your right hand, while your right foot slides desperately across the rock to keep you from twisting off. I had tried it before and utterly failed to make that opening move. The first time on this occasion I flailed on it but gradually came close to getting it; I actually latched the sharp hold with my fingertips but couldn't hold on.
Second time on the rope, I just visualized, toed up, and did it. Latched it, stopped the swing. Then proceeded to climb the whole thing clean! 5.10d is mine.
The visceral experience of being part of the pit crew at the vintage races
Clancy reflected in the headlight bezel of the Sprite.
Scott preparing to go out Friday morning.
View from a Sprite; I got to ride along on the way from town back to the track.
The replacement of the transmission; a quiet moment of cooperation.
Paul looking up through the empty engine bay as he engages in the endless task of wiping oil off of the Sprite.
Too many hands can spoil the...? The replacement of the transmission and engine.
Out on the track, but not for long.
An evening of street cars at Elkhart Lake
The vibe at the street car gathering was kinda different from the race car gathering. It was more of a "rich guys showing off their rides" rather than the purposeful racing machines of the evening before.
Below, a big American car.
I was kneeling, taking a picture of this Aston Martin DB 5, when a guy behind me said, "Do you want your picture in it?"
I said, "No way!" and he was confused for a moment before I added an enthusiastic yes, I'd love it.
But my camera was zoomed in and he didn't know how to use it, so here's me and the DB 5 steering wheel.
This is some kind of custom-bodied corvette which was incredibly hot.
Another big American car. They have a certain allure.
Below, a big American car.
I was kneeling, taking a picture of this Aston Martin DB 5, when a guy behind me said, "Do you want your picture in it?"I said, "No way!" and he was confused for a moment before I added an enthusiastic yes, I'd love it.
But my camera was zoomed in and he didn't know how to use it, so here's me and the DB 5 steering wheel.
This is some kind of custom-bodied corvette which was incredibly hot.
Another big American car. They have a certain allure.
Vintage cars at Elkhart Lake - a visceral experience
At the vintage racing weekend there are two concours d'elegans - beauty competitions for cars. On Friday night are the race cars, and on Saturday night, the street cars. The following pics are from the race car night, and a beautiful night it was. Lean and voluptuous racing beasts filled the streets, and the cars weren't too bad, either.
Below, a hot, open-wheeled racer.
Ah, velocity stacks! My favorite!
Racing MGA! Cool!
A Crossle. Some crazy British thing, I think. Ross would know.
Sinister racing corvette.
Racing Jaguar! With rivets!
Another of the odd-ball makes that show up in vintage racing; a Porsche-powered Elva. Or is it an Elva-bodied Porsche?
This is a helicopter turbine engine. In a race car! It sounds fantastically bizarre!
The picture says it all.
Clancy's Sprite, with a McLaren in the background. The extremes of vintage racing.
Below, a hot, open-wheeled racer.
Ah, velocity stacks! My favorite!
Racing MGA! Cool!
A Crossle. Some crazy British thing, I think. Ross would know.
Sinister racing corvette.
Racing Jaguar! With rivets!
Another of the odd-ball makes that show up in vintage racing; a Porsche-powered Elva. Or is it an Elva-bodied Porsche?
This is a helicopter turbine engine. In a race car! It sounds fantastically bizarre!
The picture says it all.
Clancy's Sprite, with a McLaren in the background. The extremes of vintage racing.
The garden in August
Peering across the dwarf spirea (truly a wonderful plant) at the variegated thyme.
Asilbe chinensis in the sunlight.
Cardinal climber. A couple of summers ago I grew this and it flowered profusely, and hummingbirds fed from it. This year it has flowered only sporadically. I don't know what to do. Miracle Gro?
Looking across the makeshift trellises (trellisi?) toward the house.
Tithonia - Mexican sunflower. Nice, but not as profusely flowering as I hoped.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Vintage auto racing at Elkhart Lake
We headed off for Elkhart on a Thursday morning, cruised across Wisconsin and arrived in time to share a beer with Clancy, Scott, Paul, Mike, Cindy and the girls, Allison and Kate. (No beer for the girls). Clancy had his Austin-Healey Sprite race car there, with his son Scott driving. The rest of us were pit crew and hangers-on... or sometimes just pure spectators.
Why I climb
Climbing is my therapy, physical and otherwise. Although one might make the case that some of my aches and pains are actually caused by climbing, everything works better when I climb. If I have to go for a couple of weeks without climbing I get twinges. My forearm tendons hurt, my neck aches, my rotator cuff twinges.
Climbing clears out my mental cobwebs. I can head out for a day of climbing with doubts and tensions, but I inevitably end with clarity and peace, and a pleasant physical glow of exhaustion.
Climbing has introduced me to some of my dearest friends. Climbers tend toward the intellectual; the quiet sort who craves competition with the self rather than the crowd. Deep waters.
Climbing is my yoga, my meditation. Climbing is a mental and physical training, a way of stretching the limits of both, of learning new things about yourself and how much you are really capable of.
I need climbing.
Climbing clears out my mental cobwebs. I can head out for a day of climbing with doubts and tensions, but I inevitably end with clarity and peace, and a pleasant physical glow of exhaustion.
Climbing has introduced me to some of my dearest friends. Climbers tend toward the intellectual; the quiet sort who craves competition with the self rather than the crowd. Deep waters.
Climbing is my yoga, my meditation. Climbing is a mental and physical training, a way of stretching the limits of both, of learning new things about yourself and how much you are really capable of.
I need climbing.
Awesome day at Red Wing
Gotta get caught up!
This awesome day was actually the Sunday after the Bearded Lady Motorcycle Show. Shawn, Katie and I went to Red Wing. Katie did her first outdoor lead. I climbed several things I had not climbed before, specifically two 5.11 routes. I fell and had to hang on Crank-n-gogo, but did Quick Draw Moves to Hollywood clean. I must return and lead that one. I was hesitant to lead because my back was still sore from the muscle spasm, but it actually got better with climbing.
This awesome day was actually the Sunday after the Bearded Lady Motorcycle Show. Shawn, Katie and I went to Red Wing. Katie did her first outdoor lead. I climbed several things I had not climbed before, specifically two 5.11 routes. I fell and had to hang on Crank-n-gogo, but did Quick Draw Moves to Hollywood clean. I must return and lead that one. I was hesitant to lead because my back was still sore from the muscle spasm, but it actually got better with climbing.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Bearded Lady Motorcycle Freak Show
I need to post pictures of this event, but they're on my camera and I'm too tired and hot to try to transfer them right now, so words will have to do.
This lovely event takes place in the parking lot by Diamonds, the coffeehouse near where Ross works. We rode over - me on my CB-1, Ross on his Honda 450. I had been suffering from stiff back that morning, made worse by bending over the dog for half an hour wrestling a comb through his fur. So we get to Diamonds, I spot an opening in the line-up of motorcycles along the curb and wrestle my bike into it, and as I'm wrestling something goes bad - seriously bad - with the muscles in my back. A tremendous pain shoots through my back and all through my torso. I manage to park it and walk over to find Ross, hoping that the pain will ease. But no. If anything it grows worse, cramping my body so that I can't quite draw a full breath. I can barely tell Ross what's wrong because the stress has got me crying.
We go inside and get some water, and Ross finds a guy who works there and does some massage. He goes to work on my back, and fifteen minutes later I am at least smiling and thanking him, and able to get up and look at motorcycles. And boy, there are some cool bikes to see. The event has a somewhat rockabilly feel, with a down-to-earth grunginess competing with (or perhaps complimenting) a fifties-era style. There are new bikes, old bikes, heavily modified bikes, but mostly unique bikes full of character.
Pictures to follow.
This lovely event takes place in the parking lot by Diamonds, the coffeehouse near where Ross works. We rode over - me on my CB-1, Ross on his Honda 450. I had been suffering from stiff back that morning, made worse by bending over the dog for half an hour wrestling a comb through his fur. So we get to Diamonds, I spot an opening in the line-up of motorcycles along the curb and wrestle my bike into it, and as I'm wrestling something goes bad - seriously bad - with the muscles in my back. A tremendous pain shoots through my back and all through my torso. I manage to park it and walk over to find Ross, hoping that the pain will ease. But no. If anything it grows worse, cramping my body so that I can't quite draw a full breath. I can barely tell Ross what's wrong because the stress has got me crying.
We go inside and get some water, and Ross finds a guy who works there and does some massage. He goes to work on my back, and fifteen minutes later I am at least smiling and thanking him, and able to get up and look at motorcycles. And boy, there are some cool bikes to see. The event has a somewhat rockabilly feel, with a down-to-earth grunginess competing with (or perhaps complimenting) a fifties-era style. There are new bikes, old bikes, heavily modified bikes, but mostly unique bikes full of character.
Pictures to follow.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Riding
Rode my CB-1 to work today. It was very windy and I was cautious; I took the back roads and avoided the highway. I have unrealistic fears, still, despite the motorcycle class. I am cautious with a capital C. However I did notice certain spots on the road in which I definitely felt more confident, so perhaps the secret is just to ride. To ride longer and gradually better.
That is so obvious and yet so... frustrating. I want a secret. I want instant success. I have channelled the attitude of America, the desire for results without work. Ha ha. I want to just KNOW how to ride without having to work for it. I want magic. I'm a pathetic lazy sod.
I have not yet ridden the Monster again. Ross has several times, and he said he could understand why it scared me. That makes me feel better, but it doesn't make me want to rush into riding the Monster again. I'm more interested in getting back on the VFR. I'm glad I didn't sell it yet; it is a sweet bike.
Part of the challenge of dealing with a motorcycle is the sheer difficulty of dealing with this large mass of metal, of understanding the ways in which it moves and the ways in which you, as a smaller, frailer mass of flesh, can manipulate it.
That is so obvious and yet so... frustrating. I want a secret. I want instant success. I have channelled the attitude of America, the desire for results without work. Ha ha. I want to just KNOW how to ride without having to work for it. I want magic. I'm a pathetic lazy sod.
I have not yet ridden the Monster again. Ross has several times, and he said he could understand why it scared me. That makes me feel better, but it doesn't make me want to rush into riding the Monster again. I'm more interested in getting back on the VFR. I'm glad I didn't sell it yet; it is a sweet bike.
Part of the challenge of dealing with a motorcycle is the sheer difficulty of dealing with this large mass of metal, of understanding the ways in which it moves and the ways in which you, as a smaller, frailer mass of flesh, can manipulate it.
New cell phones
We finally broke down and got new cell phones.
We've had 'em for probably about four years, and Ross has subjected his to all sorts of damage (like throwing himself at the ground while running, and smashing into Toad's head). The batteries didn't like to charge anymore, and Ross' phone didn't always ring when it should.
So we got 'em. The LG VX8300, which has all sorts of features we'll probably never use. I've gotten carried away and have downloaded three different ringtones, and I'm tempted to download a game. I've resisted so far; I downloaded one game for my ipod and that has given me untold hours of entertainment. I'm a huge sucker for the peculiarly addictive delight of small-screen video games. I think it might have something to do with the age I grew up in... or simply a game-oriented mind. Ross, who is after all only one year older than me, is completely impervious to the lure of games, video or otherwise. It must have to do with brain chemistry or upbringing. Or both. It's just that... god, I love games. There is certainly a social element, as any game is better with involvement of friends, but I'll happily play some games solo for hours and hours. I'm not as bad as some - I do not live for games. I don't have an online persona; I don't spend my fortune on virtual gadgets.
So. Cell phones. I was listening to mpr today and they used a Cake song for bumper music and I had a sudden brainstorm that perhaps there were Cake ringtones. Indeed there were, and moments later I had "Never There" as a ringtone. Lyrics are amusingly apt - "You're never there, you're never there, you're never ever ever ever there."
We've had 'em for probably about four years, and Ross has subjected his to all sorts of damage (like throwing himself at the ground while running, and smashing into Toad's head). The batteries didn't like to charge anymore, and Ross' phone didn't always ring when it should.
So we got 'em. The LG VX8300, which has all sorts of features we'll probably never use. I've gotten carried away and have downloaded three different ringtones, and I'm tempted to download a game. I've resisted so far; I downloaded one game for my ipod and that has given me untold hours of entertainment. I'm a huge sucker for the peculiarly addictive delight of small-screen video games. I think it might have something to do with the age I grew up in... or simply a game-oriented mind. Ross, who is after all only one year older than me, is completely impervious to the lure of games, video or otherwise. It must have to do with brain chemistry or upbringing. Or both. It's just that... god, I love games. There is certainly a social element, as any game is better with involvement of friends, but I'll happily play some games solo for hours and hours. I'm not as bad as some - I do not live for games. I don't have an online persona; I don't spend my fortune on virtual gadgets.
So. Cell phones. I was listening to mpr today and they used a Cake song for bumper music and I had a sudden brainstorm that perhaps there were Cake ringtones. Indeed there were, and moments later I had "Never There" as a ringtone. Lyrics are amusingly apt - "You're never there, you're never there, you're never ever ever ever there."
I feel such a weird frustration at this juncture of my life... It's exemplified in my work situation, in which I KNOW that I have a great job, in which I'm paid very well to sculpt all day, I have flexibility galore, my boss knows and trusts me and is a friend, and... I get to sculpt all day! But I also have all this frustration about the fact that I'm doing essentially the same thing over and over. And for whatever reason I feel like I'm regressing to an earlier, less social version of myself in which I submerge myself in my work and don't connect with coworkers.
I'm wallowing in the negative view.
What makes me happy is going home and being with my Ross and my Toad and my yard and my house. What makes me happy is going climbing with my dear friends and pushing my mental and physical limits. What makes me happy is pulling weeds from my garden and lawn, and moving plants and watching plants grow. What makes me happy is doing things that I don't have to do but want to do anyway. What makes me happy is reading books... but then I become frustrated when I think about the fact that at one point in my life I yearned to write science fiction books and could have if I had sufficient gumption/encouragement/dedication. I get frustrated and angry. Maybe I am only now dealing with anger that has built up for a long time. And maybe some of that anger is aimed at myself, which leads me into a difficult and unproductive cycle of frustration and self-blame and guilt and bad feeling. It is SO difficult to be proactive and positive.
Of course even in writing that I think that some people do not find it so difficult, and if only I could be one of those positive people... and thus begins the cycle of guilt and blame.
I'm frustrated that I'm not and have never been ambitious. And because of the peculiar state that I've been in, I find it easy to blame my parents for my lack of ambition. It's not particularly fair, but there it is. Maybe this is a step along the way to truly owning my own lack of ambition. If so I should be celebrating.
The truth is that I could start writing the great american novel tomorrow. It is not too late for anything, ever. How's that for a positive thought? And here's another: I can do stuff. So do it - now. That's part of the point of this blog.
I'm wallowing in the negative view.
What makes me happy is going home and being with my Ross and my Toad and my yard and my house. What makes me happy is going climbing with my dear friends and pushing my mental and physical limits. What makes me happy is pulling weeds from my garden and lawn, and moving plants and watching plants grow. What makes me happy is doing things that I don't have to do but want to do anyway. What makes me happy is reading books... but then I become frustrated when I think about the fact that at one point in my life I yearned to write science fiction books and could have if I had sufficient gumption/encouragement/dedication. I get frustrated and angry. Maybe I am only now dealing with anger that has built up for a long time. And maybe some of that anger is aimed at myself, which leads me into a difficult and unproductive cycle of frustration and self-blame and guilt and bad feeling. It is SO difficult to be proactive and positive.
Of course even in writing that I think that some people do not find it so difficult, and if only I could be one of those positive people... and thus begins the cycle of guilt and blame.
I'm frustrated that I'm not and have never been ambitious. And because of the peculiar state that I've been in, I find it easy to blame my parents for my lack of ambition. It's not particularly fair, but there it is. Maybe this is a step along the way to truly owning my own lack of ambition. If so I should be celebrating.
The truth is that I could start writing the great american novel tomorrow. It is not too late for anything, ever. How's that for a positive thought? And here's another: I can do stuff. So do it - now. That's part of the point of this blog.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Summer garden
Cimicifuga racemosa. Snakeroot.
Sundrops?
Delphinium, with a side order of asiatic lillies.
The same.
Climbing with katie
Had a girls' climbing day at Taylor's Falls with Katie. Tried to get Diane to come, too, but she had stuff goin' on. So Diane is moving to Boston, where she got a job with Sensable (the company that made the 3-D modelling software we were using at work). She's here through August, and has expressed a desire to get in some climbing before leaving town. But more about that later. For now the topic is me and Katie, climbing at Taylor's.
We went to the Picnic area on the Wisconsin side of Taylor's Falls. It's called the Picnic area because it is at the far southern end of the park, closest to the beach area where families gather to picnic and grill on summer days. A quick hike up a steep hill takes you to the top of the cliffs and to the very recognizable formations at the top of the climbs. As we reached the spot I groaned upon seeing a bunch of webbing and a climber flaking out a rope; I assumed that the spot was well and truly occupied and we would have to hike on. But the guy said they were almost done, and Katie and I dug out the ropes and webbing and gear and started setting anchors. As we finished our toprope setups they were tearing theirs down, and soon we were scrambling down the "easy" way to the base of the climbs.
The left rope is hanging on "Picnic crack", a very leadable 5.6 crack. In fact, after we both toproped it I pulled the rope and lead it, and then belayed Katie from the top. We then rapelled back down. She had never rapelled before, so I had the pleasure of introducing her to another essential climbing experience.
This happens to be one of the best spots for a hot summer day; shady all day with a fairly flat area for setting out gear. It can be comfy, as can be seen below. The greenish sunny area past my foot is the river.
Katie didn't realize I was taking this picture of her.
And I didn't realize she was getting in to this picture!
The blue rope was hanging between two climbs; "Picnic Face" goes straight up the face at and to the left of the rope, rated 5.10, and "Picnic Right" goes up a diagonal crack out of the photo, and then up and over the tiny overhang just right of the rope. It's a committing lead; you get gear in just below the overhang, but then the next good gear spot is a ways up. I lead it once, years ago, and on the same day my friend Tracy lead it and fell from above the overhang. It was actually a sweet catch; I hardly felt the impact when my belay caught him, but it shook him quite a bit and seemed to be the beginning of his loss of interest in climbing.
After doing those routes Katie and I pulled the green rope and scrambled around the corner to "Weird Overhang". I had done this route with my friend Dave years ago; he led it, couldn't get past this weird spot below the overhang, and I climbed up and finished the lead. This time I was going to do the entire lead. I was being kind of wimpy, taking my time and doubling up my pro. The awkward spot is in a flaring corner; you have to pull up and into the flaring corner, and then the left wall of the corner falls away into a sloping ledge. A sloping ledge may sound easy to climb on to, but the only foothold to get onto the ledge is a small, triangular spot in the corner, and the hand sequence is tricky; a righthand crimp allows you to grab a sidepull above the ledge with your left, and then by folding your torso over the ledge you can reach a good solid crack with your right. Then you can place protection in this crack (from this somewhat strenuous position) or a bold climber might make the move to get a foot up on the ledge before placing pro. I was not that bold climber; I tried a couple of overly large cams in the crack, and then had to downclimb to get the proper size cam from the other side of my harness. Then, however, it was cake.
Once you're on the sloping ledge you're actually squeezing into the space below the overhang. Swing out around the left end of it and up the wide, easy crack, and you're done. I threw a couple of cams into cracks at the top, tied off a tree root, and belayed Katie up. After feeling a little wimpy about my ascent I was made to feel like a hero as she groaned and gasped, said "I don't think I can do this" at the hard spot, and finally finished it off. When she came over the top she said, "You're a rock star." I dissembled and preened.
We finished off by rapelling the blue line, climbing it again, and hauling our packs to the top. An excellent day with plenty of climbing.
We went to the Picnic area on the Wisconsin side of Taylor's Falls. It's called the Picnic area because it is at the far southern end of the park, closest to the beach area where families gather to picnic and grill on summer days. A quick hike up a steep hill takes you to the top of the cliffs and to the very recognizable formations at the top of the climbs. As we reached the spot I groaned upon seeing a bunch of webbing and a climber flaking out a rope; I assumed that the spot was well and truly occupied and we would have to hike on. But the guy said they were almost done, and Katie and I dug out the ropes and webbing and gear and started setting anchors. As we finished our toprope setups they were tearing theirs down, and soon we were scrambling down the "easy" way to the base of the climbs.
The left rope is hanging on "Picnic crack", a very leadable 5.6 crack. In fact, after we both toproped it I pulled the rope and lead it, and then belayed Katie from the top. We then rapelled back down. She had never rapelled before, so I had the pleasure of introducing her to another essential climbing experience.
This happens to be one of the best spots for a hot summer day; shady all day with a fairly flat area for setting out gear. It can be comfy, as can be seen below. The greenish sunny area past my foot is the river.
Katie didn't realize I was taking this picture of her.
And I didn't realize she was getting in to this picture!The blue rope was hanging between two climbs; "Picnic Face" goes straight up the face at and to the left of the rope, rated 5.10, and "Picnic Right" goes up a diagonal crack out of the photo, and then up and over the tiny overhang just right of the rope. It's a committing lead; you get gear in just below the overhang, but then the next good gear spot is a ways up. I lead it once, years ago, and on the same day my friend Tracy lead it and fell from above the overhang. It was actually a sweet catch; I hardly felt the impact when my belay caught him, but it shook him quite a bit and seemed to be the beginning of his loss of interest in climbing.
After doing those routes Katie and I pulled the green rope and scrambled around the corner to "Weird Overhang". I had done this route with my friend Dave years ago; he led it, couldn't get past this weird spot below the overhang, and I climbed up and finished the lead. This time I was going to do the entire lead. I was being kind of wimpy, taking my time and doubling up my pro. The awkward spot is in a flaring corner; you have to pull up and into the flaring corner, and then the left wall of the corner falls away into a sloping ledge. A sloping ledge may sound easy to climb on to, but the only foothold to get onto the ledge is a small, triangular spot in the corner, and the hand sequence is tricky; a righthand crimp allows you to grab a sidepull above the ledge with your left, and then by folding your torso over the ledge you can reach a good solid crack with your right. Then you can place protection in this crack (from this somewhat strenuous position) or a bold climber might make the move to get a foot up on the ledge before placing pro. I was not that bold climber; I tried a couple of overly large cams in the crack, and then had to downclimb to get the proper size cam from the other side of my harness. Then, however, it was cake.
Once you're on the sloping ledge you're actually squeezing into the space below the overhang. Swing out around the left end of it and up the wide, easy crack, and you're done. I threw a couple of cams into cracks at the top, tied off a tree root, and belayed Katie up. After feeling a little wimpy about my ascent I was made to feel like a hero as she groaned and gasped, said "I don't think I can do this" at the hard spot, and finally finished it off. When she came over the top she said, "You're a rock star." I dissembled and preened.
We finished off by rapelling the blue line, climbing it again, and hauling our packs to the top. An excellent day with plenty of climbing.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Riding course!
On Sunday, June 24 I took the Riding Course, Advanced Rider Defensive Skills Training and Advanced Rider Defensive Skills Development for street motorcycle riding. I had a lot of anxiety in the time leading up to this course; I haven't been riding that much this year and have had very little time at highway speeds. The course is held at the Dakota County Technical College grounds in Rosemount, a 28 mile drive (on highways!) from home. Yet I had signed up for it because I really want to improve my riding skills, and a class like this seemed to be the perfect solution.
I went shopping a couple of days before the course, and bought a much needed mesh jacket, armored pants, and summer gloves. The ride to the course went without a hitch.
The course itself was amazing. I was in the beginner class, and we had alternating classroom and track sessions. Each time out we added an additional element to our cornering.
1. Notice the X's that mark the turn-in points for the turns.
2. Hit the X's before turning in.
3. Flick rapidly and with control into your turn.
4. Shift your weight toward the turn and look through the corner.
5. Stay relaxed in the straights, wiggle your arms to stay loose.
6. I don't remember what else we added, because by this time it was near 90 degrees and I was tired. I definitely slowed down in the later sessions, just to stay in control and comfortable.
By the time we finished I was utterly drained. I had been drinking water all day, but the mental and physical stress had exhausted me. The highway ride home was tiring and busy, but I just stayed at a comfortable speed and stayed focused.
Wow. Most excellent practice. I want to do it again; hopefully at a cooler time!
I went shopping a couple of days before the course, and bought a much needed mesh jacket, armored pants, and summer gloves. The ride to the course went without a hitch.
The course itself was amazing. I was in the beginner class, and we had alternating classroom and track sessions. Each time out we added an additional element to our cornering.
1. Notice the X's that mark the turn-in points for the turns.
2. Hit the X's before turning in.
3. Flick rapidly and with control into your turn.
4. Shift your weight toward the turn and look through the corner.
5. Stay relaxed in the straights, wiggle your arms to stay loose.
6. I don't remember what else we added, because by this time it was near 90 degrees and I was tired. I definitely slowed down in the later sessions, just to stay in control and comfortable.
By the time we finished I was utterly drained. I had been drinking water all day, but the mental and physical stress had exhausted me. The highway ride home was tiring and busy, but I just stayed at a comfortable speed and stayed focused.
Wow. Most excellent practice. I want to do it again; hopefully at a cooler time!
The parental visit
Wow - a month since I last posted. How horrendous.
One of my excuses is that my parents were visiting for over a week. We spent a couple of days bumming around, shopping, having a family get-together... and then my dad came down with an infection and had to spend a couple of days in the hospital. Bad vacation! But fortunately they still had another 3-4 days of vacation left, and we had more time to bum around, visit relatives, and shop.
One of my excuses is that my parents were visiting for over a week. We spent a couple of days bumming around, shopping, having a family get-together... and then my dad came down with an infection and had to spend a couple of days in the hospital. Bad vacation! But fortunately they still had another 3-4 days of vacation left, and we had more time to bum around, visit relatives, and shop.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Top 25 SF movies of the last 25 years
My boss Rick brought in a magazine with the above mentioned article in it, which prompted me to make my own list. I kept a substantial portion of the magazine list but had to make a few changes. Note: the 25 year limit eliminates the original Star Wars trilogy, and the first Alien movie. I probably won't remember them all off the top of my head, but here's an attempt (not in any particular order)
The Matrix
Firefly/Serenity
Star Trek II - the Wrath of Khan
Star Trek: The Next Generation
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Aliens
Farscape
Galaxy Quest
The Fifth Element
Starship Troopers
Babylon 5
Starman
Children of Men
The Matrix
Firefly/Serenity
Star Trek II - the Wrath of Khan
Star Trek: The Next Generation
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Aliens
Farscape
Galaxy Quest
The Fifth Element
Starship Troopers
Babylon 5
Starman
Children of Men
Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Club show
Last Saturday was the VJMC show, and Ross spent the previous two weeks prepping a $20 Honda 450 to ride to the show. He slaved over the thing to get it running and we set off that morning on it's maiden voyage. I rode my 1990 Honda CB-1, which is officially old enough to be vintage (it has to be over 15 years old). From behind Ross I got to enjoy the incredibly loud muffler of the old Honda, and the occasional burning oil smell. We met Bill and Susan at Bill's place. Bill has an old Honda 750 that he had recently got running and had just stripped some nasty aqua paint off of. Susan has a Yamaha SV 650, a thoroughly modern motorcycle.
Together we rode to the Maplewood Suzuki dealer, where the VJMC show was on display.
Bill's bike in the foreground, mine is the bright blue one.
The trophies for the winners.
A nice lineup, including a beautiful blue Honda Dream.
Ross' bike in the foreground!
A lovely older Honda with a lovely younger woman on it.
After the show we decided to go to Bob's Java Hut for a drink. On the way there Susan and I lost Ross and Bill on the highway. Ross ran out of gas, had to pull over on the non-existent shoulder and restart his bike. We all got there eventually and lazed about with iced teas. Bob's is a most excellent place to people-watch. I felt pretty darn good on the motorcycle. I just love that Honda CB-1. It's small and maneuverable and lovely.
Together we rode to the Maplewood Suzuki dealer, where the VJMC show was on display.
Bill's bike in the foreground, mine is the bright blue one.
The trophies for the winners.
A nice lineup, including a beautiful blue Honda Dream.
Ross' bike in the foreground!
A lovely older Honda with a lovely younger woman on it.
After the show we decided to go to Bob's Java Hut for a drink. On the way there Susan and I lost Ross and Bill on the highway. Ross ran out of gas, had to pull over on the non-existent shoulder and restart his bike. We all got there eventually and lazed about with iced teas. Bob's is a most excellent place to people-watch. I felt pretty darn good on the motorcycle. I just love that Honda CB-1. It's small and maneuverable and lovely.
Fascinating movies
Other fascinating movies we've watched recently;
"Donnie Darko". It achieved cult classic status while flying under my radar, and I finally thought to put it on my Blockbuster list and thus end the wait. Wow. I appreciated it even more after Googling it and reading some snippets about the back story (not all of which I absorbed from the film after one watching). I don't want to say too much lest someone want to see it without my opinion clouding their minds... I appreciate how open to interpretation the whole thing is, even though the ending does suggest one truth. In that sense it reminds me of "Pan's Labyrinth", in which to the very end it is not clear whether the true story is in the girl's imagination, or in the harsh and violent "real" world.
"The History Boys". I read a snippet about this in the City Pages, and remembered to pick it up at the video store. My. How literate and theatrical (as it well should be, having begun life as a theater production). Loved it. Beautiful storytelling. Great characters. Great faces. Subtle. Dramatic.
"Children of Men". Wow. Bleak, desperate vision of the future - a near future in which infertility is rampant and the youngest person in the world is 20 years old. Clive Owen blows me away. I haven't seen him enough; he rocks the screen. Michael Caine is marvelous as an old hippie growing and selling his own pot. Funny man. The film made me think about how lucky we are to be living in the world we do... and also how fragile it all is.
"Donnie Darko". It achieved cult classic status while flying under my radar, and I finally thought to put it on my Blockbuster list and thus end the wait. Wow. I appreciated it even more after Googling it and reading some snippets about the back story (not all of which I absorbed from the film after one watching). I don't want to say too much lest someone want to see it without my opinion clouding their minds... I appreciate how open to interpretation the whole thing is, even though the ending does suggest one truth. In that sense it reminds me of "Pan's Labyrinth", in which to the very end it is not clear whether the true story is in the girl's imagination, or in the harsh and violent "real" world.
"The History Boys". I read a snippet about this in the City Pages, and remembered to pick it up at the video store. My. How literate and theatrical (as it well should be, having begun life as a theater production). Loved it. Beautiful storytelling. Great characters. Great faces. Subtle. Dramatic.
"Children of Men". Wow. Bleak, desperate vision of the future - a near future in which infertility is rampant and the youngest person in the world is 20 years old. Clive Owen blows me away. I haven't seen him enough; he rocks the screen. Michael Caine is marvelous as an old hippie growing and selling his own pot. Funny man. The film made me think about how lucky we are to be living in the world we do... and also how fragile it all is.
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