The Age of Ascent

Ian Elliottis a modern sport climber.

Heclips bolts, he grabs draws, he uses tricks, sticks andkneepads.





But he's no slouch.

Tenacity like a cockroach. He comes back from injuries again and again. The kind of stuff that would stop someone half his sons age.











He's known almost exclusively as Old Ian. Not sure how he got that name.



Style:Gandolf meets Harry Butler. Rocking these Arthritis support kneepads in blue, poly pro underwear in black, and red polar tech beanie by Hot Tuna.

He gets the covetedjjobrienclimbing tick.











Ian channels Bhagwan Shree Rajnessh as he works the moves on "Weapon of Choice" 27, Coolum Cave.Spooky, huh?



I somehow feel proud that the cave has such a climber as Ian, as though I gain some prestige just by association.Climbers, I have to confess to being ageist. I know, coming from me! Old people, they gamble, they take drugs, they drive like maniacs.But then there are exceptions that give us an alternative model.







I could watch it again and again:The scene where this kindly old gentleman shows a Forester load ofbumpy boyshow to do the route they've been dogging all day. And then offers to retrieve their draws.Priceless.









Grow old, stay strong.jj

Caddo Lake Revisited

Tuesday, April 12th - - It seems like it has been much longer, but it was just 12 days ago that I was here at Caddo Lake State Park near Marshall, Texas. There seems to be a little more green now, which is just fine with me ;-) and the water lilies are about to burst out into bloom.



It was nearing sunset when I arrived this time, and like my previous visit the light was amazing.

Paddling the Pigeon

My favorite place to paddle! I love the Pigeon River... especially when it is calm like it was the evening that I made this image. The upper Pigeon River is a wildlife paradise. Every time I venture out on the river I see at least a few different critters. Beavers are almost guaranteed, as are a few different species of waterfowl. Kingfishers are sometimes seen patrolling the banks of the river, and now and then a Moose or two will show up. I’ve even been lucky enough on more than one occasion to see a Black Bear swimming across the river! Oh, I almost forgot to mention the Otters and Muskrats! Muskrats are seldom seen, but I almost always see at least one Otter when I visit the river. I’m heading up now to spend the late afternoon and evening on the river… I wonder what I will see today?

The Newest Twig on the Family Tree

My niece, Carrie, with her 2 1/2 month old grandson, Valen Lopez, and her daughter, Jasmine (the baby's mother).

Me with my great-grandnephew. He is the first of the "next" generation, my mother's great-great-grandson - that's five generations from her, but whose counting? The pictures were taken on Friday, December 18th.

Gunks Routes: Falled on Account of Strain (Pitch 1 5.9), Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow (Pitch 2 5.8)

(Photo: Pointing where I think the route goes on Falled on Account of Strain, pitch two (5.10b).)



Another late-season climbing day, another chance to push the limits.



I had big ideas as Adrian and I headed to the Gunks. I knew Adrian wanted to lead WASP (5.9), which I led earlier this year. WASP sits down at the Slime Wall, near the far end of the Trapps. I've spent very little time down there, so there were a bunch of climbs I was interested in checking out. One of the top climbs on my list was Falled on Account of Strain. The first pitch, which ends at a set of bolts, is rated 5.9. The second pitch goes at 5.10b through an incredible set of gigantic, tiered roofs.



As insane as it might sound, I was thinking I would lead the second pitch. I'd seen pictures of the route; the roofs pulled at me like a magnet. The thought of climbing them had me slobbering with Pavlovian anticipation.



But first we did WASP, and I have to say I wasn't exactly feeling super strong. Following pitch one I found the early moves surprisingly difficult. I caught myself thinking I wasn't sure how I'd feel leading the route, and then remembered that I'd led it a few months ago! I had thought I might try to lead the 5.9 variation climb Stubai to You as our second pitch, but when we got up to the GT Ledge I decided, given that I felt a little tentative, to check out Sticky Gate Direct (5.7) instead. (It was good! A very nice pitch, better than pitch two of WASP.)



Back on the ground, we walked over to Falled on Account of Strain and had a look. I thought we should go for it. Adrian was totally up for the first pitch, and since it ends at bolts we could easily bail from there. I figured I could venture out to look at the roofs and come back if it seemed too hairy. Also Dick Williams suggests as an alternative the second pitch of Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, which goes through the roofs at an easier 5.8 grade. Dick gives Tomorrow x 3 no stars, but I guessed it would still be an interesting alternative, and maybe from the shared rap station we could lower ourselves over Falled and try the crux if it was too scary on lead.





(Photo: Early in the 5.9 pitch one of Falled on Account of Strain.)



We got set up beneath Falled and before getting started I wandered into the woods to take a quick leak. As I stood there amongst the trees I jokingly called over to Adrian "you're on belay, climb when ready!"



"Are you going to belay me," he replied, "or are you just going to stand there with your dick in your hand?"



Maybe you just had to be there, but this became a source of much hilarity for us. "Or are you just going to stand there with your dick in your hand" can be usefully adapted to fit into just about any climbing conversation.



For example:



"So go ahead and give me the rack, whenever you're done standing there with your dick in your hand."



Or:



"I just took this amazing photo of you, while I was holding the rope AND standing here with my dick in my hand."



And so on.



I guess you had to be there.



Anyway, pitch one of Falled on Acoount of Strain turned out to be a very worthwhile climb in its own right. Dick rates it at 5.9 but Swain calls it a 5.9+ and I think Swain has it right. The first moves are 5.6-ish but unprotected, up the face to the left of a thin seam. Once you get some pro in, about 15 feet up, you move to the right and into the crux, thin moves between spaced horizontals. The first of these moves puts your feet even with your last protective gear. Your next pro comes in a blind placement over your head at the next horizontal. Adrian is much taller than me and he had to do a pull up to examine the gear and fix it before making the next moves. Following him, I found that I had to step up fully into the move to examine the gear and get it out. I had to struggle a bit with the piece and I almost popped off while trying to remove it.



Dealing with this one difficult placement is my only real concern about eventually leading this pitch. Afterwards the climbing and the gear get easier to handle.





(Photo: Almost done with pitch one of Falled on Account of Strain. The tiered roofs await, overhead. The pitch one crux comes between the two horizontals visible in the lower right corner of the photograph.)



When I joined Adrian at the belay he asked me if I was really up for leading pitch two. Looking out at the roofs I thought it seemed simple enough to wander over and check them out. I was sure I could get gear in the first tier of the roof system. So long as I could get pro at each tier, I figured, I could keep moving up. There would be no shame in taking a hang, as long as the gear was good and the falls were clean.



And so I ventured forth, promising not to make any moves I couldn't reverse until I was sure about continuing.





(Photo: The point of no return. To continue, or not?)



I traversed easily to the first overhang. There was good gear. I believed I was at the right spot at which to pull up and over to the next tier. There was a lot of chalk even further right, but it seemed to me this was errant chalk, sucker chalk.



I pulled up enough to see if I could get gear at the next tier. I couldn't see any potential placements. This was a major bummer.



What about further right? I ventured over to the sucker chalk and looked up there. But I didn't see any gear over there either.



I wandered back to where I thought the route really went and kept looking it over. I felt a rush of emotions and excitement. I had a decision to make.



Option A: I could commit to the next tier, knowing I would have to move up AGAIN to the final tier before finding any pro. There had to be gear up there, or this thing wouldn't be rated PG, right? But if I committed to this course I doubted I could climb back down and if I popped off it would be a real fall.



Option B: I could give up and traverse back to the anchor.



I hope this doesn't sound too grandiose, but I felt I stood at a sort of crossroads.



I was straddling a line dividing my climbing past and my hoped-for climbing future. A past mired in moderates, and a future involving the real deal. A past of mucking about on ledges, and a future filled with improbable environments and thrilling situations. A past of standing around with my dick in my hand, and a future of bold action.



The atmosphere beneath the overhang was incredible. I wanted to go for it, but I wasn't quite sure I was ready. It had been a great year. Maybe this climb was meant for next year?



Adrian called over to give his opinion.



"You want me to support you, right?"



"No, dude, tell me what you really think."



"It looks crazy to me."



That was all I needed to hear. I decided to traverse back to the anchor and climb Tomorrow x 3 instead.





(Photo: Getting into the 5.8 roof on Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow.)



I'm glad we went ahead and did Tomorrow x 3, because the roof was fun. It is not a cakewalk by any means. The holds are very good, but once you are in the roof you traverse out to the left (with good pro) and it is very strenuous, a little burly, I think, for 5.8.



I later learned that Swain calls this a 5.10 roof, so I could claim this as my second 5.10 Gunks lead... but let's get real. There's no way this is a 5.10. Maybe 5.8+ or 5.9-.



Once you get above the roof, the remaining climbing up and right to the Falled anchor is very dirty/bushy, and not very pleasant. And the fixed station for Falled as of this writing is crap. There is a big old angle piton (rusty but probably fine), three nested rusty pitons (impossible to evaluate), and two equalized nuts in a horizontal, at least one of which has a cable that is almost rusted out. All of it is tied together with ancient, faded, stiff cord and webbing.



I refused to use this anchor. If you go up there, bring some cord/webbing and maybe some nuts to shore up the station. We ended up bushwhacking through filthy territory to the GT Ledge and then we rapped off the Sticky Gate tree, which will get you down with a single 70 meter or with 60 meter doubles.



Adrian later asked me why I am so attracted to these roof problems. I gave him the cold, logical reason: I'm looking for good holds and clean falls. Face climbs of the same grade tend to involve more difficult sequences and more fiddly gear. He responded quite reasonably that he prefers the face climbs because you can stop and think before the crux, whereas with the roofs you know the clock is always ticking. He felt more secure on the 5.9+ face of Falled, for example, than he did in the 5.8 roof on Tomorrow x 3, because on Falled he knew he could chew over the moves as long as he liked before making the commitment.



This is of course a matter of personal preference, with no right answer. What I failed to add to my side of the argument, but what still tips the balance for me, is that the roofs are awesome. To me there's no thrill like getting over a big roof. I guess that's just what makes me a Gunks guy. Looking at the roof photos above, I find it hard to imagine feeling any other way.

Fall in the Park

A handful of climbers every week are still attempting summits. and while the challenges of colder weather, shorter days and thin snowbridges make travel a bit more difficult, some are still making it to the top.

Posts will become less frequent during these winter months. Be sure to check out the weather and avalanche conditions when planning a trip to the mountain this winter. Also, regulations for climber registration change, roads will close, and visitor center hours switch as the park prepares for winter. Check out the links to keep current.

Beginning on November 1st the road gate at Longmire will be closed each evening (at 6pm) and the road will be opened again each morning after the Road Crew has finished its prep. We have an excellent crew who do their best to keep the road passable, but there will be a handful of days this winter when conditions are so bad the road to Paradise will not open.

Have a fun and safe winter!

Our boat

I wondered if I was seeing things.



It was several months after we bought the land. We were driving on one of the paths, when I thought I spied something a bit odd. "Stop! Back up!"

Yep, it really was a boat. In the middle of the woods.



World's biggest planter?

Many country people don't see the point in paying to take things to the county landfill, when they've got so much perfectly good land of their own on which to dump stuff. So we're continually finding surprises in the woods.

Nebraska - Sandhill Crane migration!

As many of you know, each year for the past few years I've made a pilgrimage to Nebraska in March to photograph the large gathering of Sandhill Cranes that takes place on the Platte River. This year my friend Roger (http://www.rogernordstromphoto.com/ accompanied me on my trip to Nebraska. We had a great time photographing the birds over a period of several days. The highlight of this year's trip was staying in an overnight photography blind at the Rowe Sanctuary. The overnight blind offered up some incredible views of the birds. One thing we learned from our night in the overnight blind is that the birds make noise ALL NIGHT LONG! They did quiet down a bit between about 1:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m. but they definitely make quite a racket throughout the entire night. I say this every year so I'm going to say it again this year... if you've never been to Nebraska in March to see this migration, you NEED to go! It is one of the most amazing wildlife spectacles a person can see! I can't wait until next year so I can experience the Cranes again :-)

The Goose Lake Farm

In 1871 William Brubaker purchased one hundred and thirty acres of native forest land bordering Goose Lake in Troy Township, Whitley County, Indiana. I don't know if the house was built before or after the purchase of the property. When Hale Brubaker died on December 14, 1910, my great grandparents Maude and Charles Brubaker were living in Traverse City, Michigan. They moved back to Columbia City and lived for a short time with William and Malissa. William Brubaker died on January 26, 1912 and the property was sold to Charles a year or so later. The family lived at the farm until about 1918 when the house and land was sold.

Home on the Farm at Goose Lake ~ about 1914 ~ Thornton Brubaker (sitting on the stump, half-brother of William Brubaker), Jane, Orville Day (a hired man), Maud, Billy, Hazlette, Spot, and Charles Romain Brubaker.

The house as it is was on August 16, ... A garage has been added to the right, a roof extension put over the porch, the chimney was removed, and they have put in new windows and siding. All of the out-buildings described by my grandmother have been torn down and replaced with a very large pole barn.

There is a partial basement under the left portion of the house, which leads me to believe that the left side was the original house. The current owners have a living room and master bedroom on the lower floor and two bedrooms upstairs. The kitchen is in the right side of the house. It now has all of the modern conveniences.

My grandmother, Hazlette Brubaker Phend, describes the house in her autobiography:

From the wood shed to the door and into the summer dining room we have been walking on a brick walk. And the small yard in front of the dining room and around the windmill was brick. This brick must have been there for years because even in 1909 it was green with moss.

I think that summer dining room was quite unique. There was an iron water tank in one corner that was enclosed by a modern cabinet with a lid on it; the tank held about forty gallons of water. This room was screened in on the north and south with a storage room to the east and the kitchen to the west. There were wooden doors that enclosed it all in the wintertime. There was as large cupboard that had been built years before and Grandma always had the room looking cool and nice.

The next room was the kitchen. I guess I can hardly tell you anything good about it, yet I learned to cook there on an old wood-burning stove. The entrance to the cellar was a trap door in the floor, you opened it and went down the ladder and hoped no one would fall into the opening while you were down below. The cellar was where the potatoes and onions were stored along with the canned fruits and vegetables; a hanging shelf was our refrigerator. The kitchen table was in the space beside this trap door and many was the time that we would have to open the door for milk or cream after we were all seated at the table. The ones that sat on the side near the door, usually Jane and Me, had to stand guard till the trip for cream was made.

On the other side was the buttery and pantry; it was just a big dark place to put everything. There were shelves and a table or sink. It was always dark as night, there were no windows and no kerosene lamp could take the awful dark away - or at least that is the way it seemed to me! There was a plastered room for meat and anything else eatable that freezing wouldn't hurt. This room was always locked.

There had been an addition to this kitchen and in the space between the pantry and the back door was a cistern pump with an iron sink. In 1909 this was quite a modern improvement. The stove was opposite the sink with the wood box and a cupboard.

It really seems very primitive but there were many delicious meals prepared and eaten in that kitchen. There was a screen door between the kitchen and the dining room, which was used as a dining room only on very rare occasions. But the screen door had been put up when we were very small so that Mama could keep an eye on us while working about the kitchen.

The dining room had wainscoting about three feet high all around and this room was my favorite. It had the heating stove beside which we kids would always get dressed on cold mornings. There was a table upon which we played games and got our lessons, Grandma had a nice cupboard here and a couple of rocking chairs. There was a wall desk that I just adored - the front came down revealing pigeonholes with lots of things in it that us kids were not to touch! The telephone was in this room, which was the heart of the house.

And it was in this room that I recall my first Christmas tree. It was just before Billy was born. I had kept saying that I wanted a yellow doll (a doll dressed in yellow) and after all the gifts were removed and opened from beneath what I thought was an enormous tree, Papa lifted me up and there in the tree was a beautiful doll dressed in yellow!

Off this room was the parlor. When Grandma lived here it was very cold and formal. In fact I don't believe we ever went into this room except for Uncle Hale's funeral. But when we moved into this house in 1911 all that was changed and we used it always whenever we had company. Later Papa bought us a piano and we took music lessons and I guess this room just came alive.

Off this room was the great bedroom, which became Jane's and mine when we grew older. There was another bedroom off the dining room, which was the master bedroom. Mama would let me stay in that room sometimes when I was sick; I remember the pink roses in the wallpaper. This room was at the back of the house but you could see the orchard from the window. It was really lovely in the spring.

There were two large rooms upstairs and an enormously interesting attic. The large room in front had a closet that ran the full length of the room, this was Hale's room and it was sacred to Grandma and was kept locked. But after Uncle Hale died and we moved into the house this is where we kids slept. It was papered with a white rose paper that was lovely. The crab apple tree, which even now stands west of the house, would then touch the windows of this room and the perfume from the blossoms was so lovely, I can still remember spring mornings in that room.

The other room was never papered, the stair well was here and the entrance to the attic. And oh, what an attic! We were allowed to play here on rainy days and it was delightful. Grandpa had a civil war gun with musket and his knapsack. There were candle molds and the butchering equipment was kept here - sausage stuffer and lard renderer, the great big meat grinder attached to a bench. There were trunks of old clothes and books that I would give a lot to see now. This room had just one window but the chimney came up through here and it was always cozy. It also had mice and wasps, which nearly scared me to death - but I loved to go there anyway.

Monday Mailbox: Cycling with Men vs Cycling with Women

Monday Mailbox is a weekly post dedicated to questions received over email. Here is one that taps into a popular topic:

Until now I've been cycling on my own, but I am considering club rides. I see that most cycling clubs in my area offer women's rides in addition to their regular [mixed gender] rides, with the idea that this helps women feel more comfortable. [Also,] talking to women [cyclists] I get the sense that riding with men is not such a nice experience. What are your impressions of cycling with men vs other women? Is there an advantage to women only rides?

From personal experience (as opposed to stories others tell me), I have not formed any generalised impressions of gender as tied to specific cycling behaviours.




For background: I occasionally take part in women-only club rides, as well as in mixed gender club rides. I also do lots of informal riding with 1-3 cycling buddies at a time, and the gender split there is roughly 50/50 (meaning, roughly half of my cycling buddies are men and half are women).




Among the people I ride with, I cannot say I notice a difference in riding style based on gender. Possibly this is because other differences are more prominent. For instance, there are experienced riders versus inexperienced ones. There are competitive riders versus non-competitive ones. Some riders are aggressive and take risks, while others are mellow and risk-averse. There is a category of riders who only talk about cycling while they're cycling (technique, nutrition, bikes), versus those who talk about anything but (philosophy, politics, gossip). I can think of other classification systems before gender starts to seem relevant.




As far as advantages to women-only rides... As I understand it, the assumptions there are that: (1) women enjoy the opportunity to socialise with other women, and (2) women feel less self-conscious without men around. If this applies to you, then that would certainly be the advantage. However, it does not apply to all women, including myself. Men don't inherently make me nervous, and women don't inherently put me at ease, it's really more about the individual. I'll join a women's ride if I want to ride that day, but not because it's a women's-only ride.




Judging by how often this topic comes up, I recognise it as a serious issue and don't mean to be dismissive. For women who, for whatever reason, feel uncomfortable riding with men, women-only club rides are a valuable resource. In that sense, I am glad that more of them are appearing all over.




But me, I'll ride with anyone. As long as they ride predictably and I can keep up. Conversation optional.

Wordless Wednesday :: Schooldaze ~ Fifth Grade

Of all my school pictures, this is my favorite!

Gunks Routes: Easy Overhang (5.2) & Son of Easy O (5.8)

It was one of those treasured weekdays in the Gunks. I was going climbing with Margaret, one of my longest-running climbing friends, but with whom I somehow haven't climbed outside in years. She wanted to do some easy leads. I just wanted to climb and didn't much care what we did. And with a heat wave rolling through and temperatures in the high 90s, easy leads sounded pretty good to me.



After I warmed us up with a run up Rhododendron (5.6-) we took the quick walk over to Easy Overhang, which neither of us had ever done and which Margaret wanted to lead.





(Photo: Almost through pitch one of Easy Overhang, having gone in and out of the 5.1 chimney.)



Pitch one is rated only 5.1, but the opening move (up a little flake and left to the chimney that makes up most of the pitch) sure feels harder than that. Neither Margaret nor I were at any risk of falling off, of course, but it was kind of a wake-up call. I get this same wake-up call whenever I do a super-easy climb in the Gunks. There's always a move somewhere that makes you think a little, no matter what the rating is. On Easy Overhang it comes right off the ground. It's just hard enough, I imagine, to give a brand new leader pause about what's to come, and it could cause real problems for a totally inexperienced climber. After we finished the climb, in fact, I saw a young girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen struggling mightily with these first moves of the pitch while her belayer/dad chatted on his cellular phone, oblivious. I gave her a little beta and she eventually got through it, but not without some skidding feet here and there.



Once you are established in the chimney the climb is as easy as advertised up to the bolts at the belay ledge. I thought it was pleasant, good fun. When I got to the bolts I looked up at the 5.2 pitch two and it too looked like another entertaining sandbag. The holds appeared to be plentiful but the climbing looked quite steep, and not just at the namesake overhang(s).





(Photo: Pitch two of Easy Overhang.)



Margaret set off and made quick work of it. As I followed her, enjoying the moves, I tried to imagine Hans Kraus leading it in mountain boots in 1941 (or perhaps sneakers, as he wore for the first ascent of the crux pitch of High Exposure that same year). It wasn't easy to envision. I tried to picture what this cliff was like without the lines already drawn in. I attempted to see this hunk of rock as a blank slate, as Kraus saw it; to find the line without outside influence, as he had found it. And it was hard for me to imagine that a person could look at this particular line and think it would be easily climbed with the tools of his day: clunky boots, a few pitons, hemp ropes. I resolved to try it one day-- not with hemp ropes or pitons, but maybe in mountain boots, as one internet climbing forum participant proposed somewhere a few months ago. Easy Overhang seems like the perfect climb for it. The going is steep in places, but rests are plentiful and there are great edges for stiff soles; no need for smearing. I think primitive footwear would work well, and that leading Easy Overhang in them would scare the crap out of me, in a good, safe way.



After we were done with Easy Overhang it was my turn to lead something. I couldn't resist hopping on Son of Easy O (5.8). I led it two years ago, just a few days before I broke my ankle. When I looked back on it I remembered the thin face climbing on pitch one as rather tough going, and the pitch two overhang as a surprisingly easy pleasure.



I was eager to get back on it because I've been feeling so good on the 5.8 climbs lately. I wanted to see if pitch one would seem easier this time around. I also wanted to check it out again because a few weeks ago in this space I declared Birdland to be perhaps the best 5.8 in the Gunks, and the reason I qualified my praise with that word "perhaps" was that I thought possibly Son of Easy O deserved the honor instead.



Well, pitch one was still tense the second time around. Maybe the heat was a factor. Maybe my performance was also affected by the fact that the party before us elected to rap from the pins near the top (this requires two ropes or a 70 meter single) and dropped their rope on me while I was negotiating the crux. (They were actually nice guys; they realized this was an error and then waited until I said it was okay before they dropped the other end.) Whatever the reason, I thought this was one of the hardest, and best, 5.8 pitches I've done at the Gunks. It just doesn't stop coming. It is steep for 15 or 20 feet, with thin moves past the pin and the little left-facing corner. Then the angle eases but the thin moves continue. You are over your feet so you don't pump out, but there isn't much in the way of a rest stance until you are practically at the ledge. It's just one thoughtful move after another, with great, abundant pro, the whole way. So good.



I wonder if this pitch feels harder than it used to because it is so popular. The route is polished, so much so that you can pick out the line from the carriage road by the streak of polish going up the wall.



I know it is fashionable these days to combine pitches one and two but it was so hot out I thought it might be nice to take a break between the pitches. I also wanted to experience the traverse over to the overhang at the start of pitch two again, and this traverse is skipped when the pitches are combined. So I angled up left at the ledge and belayed at the traditional spot at the end of pitch one. After Margaret arrived at the belay ledge (remarking as she finished climbing that she couldn't believe pitch one was only a 5.8) I set off on pitch two.





(Photo: In the thick of pitch two of Son of Easy O (5.8).)



Again my impressions of two years ago were more or less confirmed. After a slightly dicey step into the traverse, which requires a move or two before you can get good pro in, the pitch is steep, with great holds and gear as you move up into the overhanging corner. Then it is over before you know it. I made the traversing moves, thinking things were getting pumpy in a hurry. Then I stepped up to the pin, telling myself I'd better keep it moving. I placed a dynamite back-up cam to the right of the pin. I moved up and placed another cam in a horizontal. I thought about whether it was worth the energy I would have to expend to improve this last placement... and then I looked to the right and realized the hard stuff was already done. One step around the corner to the right and the pitch was in the bag.



Having done both pitches of Son of Easy O again I have to say it is a close call, but I don't think it is the best overall 5.8 in the Gunks. If the second pitch were just a bit longer it might get the nod. The first pitch is amazing, the second is only very good. In addition, the climb is a victim of its own popularity; it is getting quite polished on the first pitch. Regardless of these small caveats, it is certainly still among the best 5.8s, and it deserves of every one of its three stars.



But Birdland remains the champ as far as I'm concerned.

Beach

Here is a photo my sister took when she and her hubby and dog went to the Oregon beach near Astoria, OR for their 30 Anniversary.
Happy Anniversary!!!!

Ice-Covered Shores

Here is a recent shot taken at dusk looking east along the Lake Superior shoreline in Grand Portage. It was a wind-stricken shore with big waves on this particular evening of January 3rd, . The lines in the foreground ice are what really caught my eye here, but I think the frothy waves in the background add a lot to the image as well. Enjoy!

Enchantments Traverse

After a weather delay, we were finally able to do the Enchantments Traverse. We spent the day up in mountain goat country. That area is full of snowfields, steams, awesome lakes, granite boulders, slabs and peaks. With our side trip to Little Annapurna, it ended up being an 18 mile hike. The blisters should heal up in about a week :)



At about 2 hours into the hike, we arrived at Colchuck Lake.



A couple of hours later, we made it to the upper basin and started seeing mountain goats.



Then we ran into a few well-camouflaged Rock Ptarmigans.





We couldn't resist standing on the collapsed snow cave.



Ron and Doug ontop of 8,440' Little Annapurna. Mt. Stuart and Dragontail Peak in the background.



Prusik Peak, Mount Temple and several of the alpine lakes.



Little Annapurna as seen from Perfection Lake.




Some people say that this is the most beautiful place in Washington State. We've been to some amazing places. I can think of several that are close, but none better!