Coffee bitter and sweet, mixing, and lies not in how sugar is whether; A period lies not in pain, how to forget, but in whether it has the courage to start again.
These are photos of the where the ruins are. 1st photo is of the remains of an actual ruin. Next is a pile of modern made adobe bricks that are being used to help keep part of the ruins in shape enough so that people can tell where these ancient Pueblo Indian homes were. Most of the photos are of rebuilt walls that are on top of what is left of the ancient walls. There has been one 'home' completely rebuilt. It has a ladder on the side as most of the homes were entered through the roof for protection, and privacy. There are doors there are barely wide enough for an average person to enter. The roof is low, and there is a fire pit for warmth and winter cooking. Vigas or wood poles were used to support the roof. Some of the 'homes' or apartments were as much as 4 stories high.
Led by me, with Gordon. Sussed out a few possible variations. Pleasant, warm not hot, a lot of woodland walking, some heathland, some road walking. Coffee at Granary/ Farm Shop. 8.6 miles total. Some mud in Castor Hanglands, but not bad. Saw and heard green woodpecker.
We parked at the entrance to Southey Wood, and walked along Langley Bush road north-east to the corner where the plaque, erected in , tells of the history of Langley Bush. John Clare wrote a poem about Langley Bush.
Langley Bush Road bends to the left and continues north to the junction with Stamford Road. We turned left and walked along until it becomes Marholm Road. Shortly before the village of Ufford we took a bridleway to the left, which led us into Southey Woods. The path turns left and there is a barrier to stop vehicles entering.The main track thorugh the wood is easy to follow as it goes east, then turns right, left and right once more before continuing pretty well south, past a picnic area to the main entrance.
We stopped at the car for a break 0 a little early as we hadn't yet covered four miles.
Next we took the bridleway opposite the Southey Woods car park. This goes south, past a farm building and a stretch of woodland, underneath a line of electricity pylons, then past a small church on the left. This is part of the tiny settlement of Upton.
The church of St John the Baptist, Upton.
Shortly after this we turned left and walked past a field with a stone artefact.
Is this a sundial? See link about Upton.
Next we walked along the edge of Manor Farm's yard.
Perhaps not a way-marker? It'd be a good one.
The path continues across a couple of fields, more or less south-east, then turns slightly left (east) along the edge of fields.
What? Why? We saw a similar arrangement with a bench.
In less than half a mile we met a north-south path, which crossed our route. We turned left to head north into Castor Hanglands Nature Reserve. Once again the path was easy to follow - there is plenty of insect life, and the woodland stays quite damp. The reserve is interesting and contains heathland as well as woodland - in parts it is almost a mini-New Forest area.
Not quite New Forest ponies
At the northern end of the reserve it is possible to take a path directly to Southey Woods, to the left. We carried on, and just as we turned right along the northern edge, we noted a permissive path for customers of the farm shop. On this occasion we took the longer route, coming out at the road (between Ailsworth and Helpston). A couple of miles of road walking took us past the farm shop, then we turned left onto Langley Bush Road and retraced our steps to Southey Woods car park.
At one point we heard the loud call of a green woodpecker and saw it disappear into the woods.
Here is another image of the upper Nisqually Glacier, with the route lines drawn. The BLUE represents the line Hannah climbed on the Nisqually Icecliff. The PURPLE is a variation on the Nisqually Cleaver, and the GREEN is the standard Nisqually Cleaver Route.
Last summer I wrote about trying to ride clipless and failing. Unfortunately, not much has changed since then. For background, I do ride my roadbike with foot retention: I use Power Grips, adjusted as snugly as possible. They bind my feet to the pedals effectively while still being extremely easy to get out of. Sure, they don't exactly look "pro," but they get the job done and anyone who thinks otherwise has probably never tried them. Still, it bothers me that I just can't master riding clipless after all this time, while others have no trouble with this skill at all. This year I was determined to get to the bottom of what makes it so hard for me.
My first step was to start from scratch. Last year, the Co-Habitant gave me his old clipless pedals (Shimano M520) and I used those by default. I got as far as being able to ride around the block gingerly, but ultimately just wasn't comfortable with it. Later more than a couple of women told me that they hate these pedals and cannot use them either, and that what I should really do is go to a bike shop and try as many different pedals as possible. I didn't know you could do that, but apparently some bike shops offer this service. Since I spend a lot of time at the Ride Studio Cafe as it is, I arranged with them for a fitting. They have a trainer in the back room where you can set up either your own bike or one of their demo bikes, and they have a variety of clipless shoes and pedals to try.
To ride clipless, you have to buy a set of pedals, which are sold with cleats, and a pair of compatible shoes. The cleats that are purchased with the pedals are then attached to the shoes. There are many brands of these pedal/cleat systems, and they are generally classified into road (SPD-SL) vs mountain (SPD) - a little misleading, since in practice both are frequently used by roadcyclists. The mountain bike system (left) features small cleats with 2 attachment points. Notice also that on the shoe, the part where the cleat goes is recessed, so that when off the bike you walk on the sole and not on the cleat itself. The road system (right) features larger cleats with 3 (or 4) attachment points. And the shoe is not recessed, so that when off the bike you actually walk on the cleat (this is why roadies make those click-clacking noises on pavement). As it is explained to me, the benefit of the road system is that more of your foot is attached to the pedal. The benefit ofthemountain system is that it is easier to walk off the bike.
Popular road-compatible systems include Look, Shimano, Time and Speedplay, all shown here. The former 3 are near-identical, but the Speedplays (the smaller pedal on top) are a little different in shape and attachment style (also they are double-sided, whereas the other road pedals are one-sided). I did not bother trying these, because nearly everyone I know who uses them seems to have problems. But I tried the Shimano and Look SPD-SL, and I liked them both. The clipping mechanism felt very different than that of the (SPD) Shimano M520s I was practicing with last year. For me at least, it felt much easier to clip and unclip with the road pedals; the mechanism did not feel clunky or death-grippy. With the SPD cleats last year, even on the weakest setting I felt as if I were stomping on the pedal with all my might to clip in and jerking the bike sideways in order to unclip. With the road system, the mechanism on the pedal felt as if it grabbed the cleat without much effort on my part, and I could also unclip fairly easily. On the downside, I found the road shoes slippery to walk in, which made me nervous. A number of people I ride with discouraged me from going with the road system for this very reason.
Having already tried the typical Shimano SPDs and determined that I did not like them as much as the SPD-SL, the one system left to try was Crank Brothers. This is technically a mountain bike system, and the cleat looks very similar to SPD cleats. However, the pedals are 4-sided and use a different mechanism. I had hope for these pedals, because those who use them report that they are very easy to clip in and out of compared to the other mountain systems. I tried them, and I agree. The mechanism engages and releases very easily, and I know that I will be able to practice with these without the "what if I can't unclip?!" anxiety. The model pictured here is the Egg Beaters, but I ordered the Candys - which are the same, except with a platform. I wanted the platform version, because I do not like the feel of tiny pedals and want more support for my foot. I think the platform will also make it easier for my foot to locate the binding mechanism, before that part becomes intuitive.
It is yet to be determined whether I'll be able to master clipless, but I have a feeling that if I can do it at all then I'll be able to do it with these Crank Brothers. My biggest problem so far has been fear over the effort of unclipping, which should no longer be an issue with these. I will keep you posted on future progress or lack thereof. But for any beginners reading this, I encourage you to visit a bike shop that specialises in this stuff and talk to them, try different pedal/cleat combinations and see how they feel - as opposed to struggling with a system just because a spouse or a friend uses it.
(Photo: Coming up the 5.8 pitch one of Mr. P's Wurst.)
So nice to be back home in the Gunks.
After nearly two months away, I longed for the old familiar climbing surroundings.
The overhangs.
The pitons.
The long reaches.
The horizontals.
I was climbing with Margaret on an October Sunday. She wanted some easy leading and our first target was Three Pines. Unfortunately Three Pines at 9 a.m. already had a party of three on the first pitch and another pair at the base waiting to start. This was hardly a surprise on a Sunday during peak season.
My general policy is not to wait for climbs in the Trapps. In my experience, you always find something else open if you keep looking. Sure enough, we went a little further down the cliff and found Minty (5.3) available so we were in business.
Margaret led pitch one. I think this pitch is a great introductory Gunks lead because it has an early move that seems several grades harder than the rest of the climb. This might not seem like an ideal situation for a new leader to deal with, but it happens all the time on climbs of every grade in the Gunks. You have to confront it eventually, so you might as well start to get used to it when you're leading 5.3!
On Minty, the move can catch you by surprise. You start up this little corner. A big shelf is right there for you to grab, just one step up. But the feet are these tiny, polished little half-pebbles. You have to trust your feet just long enough to step up to grab that ledge.
The move should be no big deal.
But it seems totally possible you could fall here.
So you stand there thinking "This is supposed to be 5.3! How can I be such a failure that I am worried about this little move on a 5.3??"
And you psyche yourself out.
And you try this, and you try that, desperate to avoid this tenuous little step.
Finally you just do the stupid move and feel like an idiot.
Welcome to the Gunks.
(Photo: Past the crux on pitch one of Minty (5.3).)
The other hazard on Minty is that you might go up the wrong corner. The climb keeps moving left, and all the corner systems look alike. The first time I did the route, with Liz, she went up too soon, when she should have continued moving left. But if you make this mistake, you'll likely end up on Tipsy Trees, which is another nice 5.3. So no worries.
To stay on track you should look up for the distinctive Minty tree. It is a pine tree over 100 feet up that sticks out sideways from the cliff. This tree is where pitch one ends. If you keep in mind that you are heading for this tree, you should find the correct route.
(Photo: The 5.2 pitch three of Minty.)
Minty has lots to offer. The steep, juggy climbing you'll find in the second half of pitch one and all of pitch two is especially nice. Pitch three goes at a very casual 5.2 and it isn't terribly long, but it too has good moves out from a corner system and then up jugs to the top.
My personal preference for descending from climbs in the Minty/Snooky's area is to walk a short distance to the bolted rap route at the top of the Madame G buttress. Using the bolted rap route guarantees a safe descent and avoids throwing ropes over nervous leaders on very popular climbs. The problem with this method is that the Madame G rap starts from the GT Ledge and you have to follow your nose and downclimb from the top to find the bolts. If you aren't already familiar with the location it will be hard for you to find it. In the past I have spotted the distinctive tree which grows out at an angle from the cliff right next to the rap bolts, but I must have done this at a time of year in which the trees have no leaves. Last weekend with Margaret I couldn't spot the correct tree from the top and I had some trouble finding the bolts, overshooting the right path and having to work my way back. Still, I prefer these few minutes of hunting to rapping off of the manky anchors which come and go atop the cliff.
Coming down, I could see it wasn't going to be easy to get on another three-star classic. The cliff was looking very crowded. There were parties on Madame G's, on Finger Locks or Cedar Box, on Hyjek's Horror, on almost every climb in sight. Was this a nature preserve? It bore a greater resemblance to Occupy Wall Street.
I suggested to Margaret that we do an empty climb right in front of us: Mr. P's Wurst. The climb, which ascends the right side of the Madame G buttress, is almost always open, even though it sits amidst some of the most popular routes in the Trapps.
I've been wanting to get on Mr. P's for some time, in part because I like the name, which Ivan Rezucha and Rich Perch bestowed on the route in the best Hans Kraus tradition.
Hans put up Madame G's (full name: Madame Grunnebaum's Wulst) in 1943. How many climbers understand the bawdy humor in this classic route's name? I'd wager that very few get the joke. As Susan E.B. Schwartz explains in her biography Into the Unknown: the Remarkable Life of Hans Kraus, the name was not inspired by a real person. Instead, Hans looked up at the buttress and saw two bulges up high that-- to his one-track mind-- resembled a woman's bosom. The route he created begins at a pine tree and weaves between the two breast-like features. Grunnebaum is German for green tree and wulst means bulge. Thus the route's name can be translated in full as "Mrs. Greentree's Boobs."
Once you understand the humor in Madame G's name, the meaning of Mr. P's Wurst becomes obvious. The latter route snakes up right next to Ms. Greentree's bulges, and what could be better nestled in those bulges than Mr. Perch's sausage?
Apart from the name, what interested me about Mr. P's was that no one ever seems to do it. It is always open, despite the fact that Dick Williams decided to anoint it with two stars in his 2004 guidebook. Dick also did his part to make the route more accessible, describing a new start from 50 feet up the gully to the right of the buttress instead of the 5.6 R climbing previously needed to get established on the route.
I think this new start is actually one of the reasons the crowds stay away. The gully looks unappealing and from the ground it is hard to see exactly where you're supposed to jump onto the wall.
It looked to me as though the right spot was about five or ten feet below the rap bolts that are on the other side of the gully. We decided to do pitch one of Northern Pillar (5.1) instead of climbing the gully, with Margaret leading up and cutting left near the top of the pitch to set up a belay either at or near the bolts, from which point I'd decide exactly how to get over the gully and onto the wall for Mr. P's.
Margaret ended up building a belay to the right of the bolts, in order to avoid having parties constantly rapping through as she stood there waiting for me. This worked out fine, although I think it would have been okay to use the bolts so long as she set up on the left side of them. It seems to me that when people rap and pull the ropes from above they usually fall just to the right of the bolts. So if Margaret had anchored into the bolts but stood to the left she would probably have been unaffected by the rapping parties. In the final analysis, it would have been simpler just to go up the gully.
(Photo: Approaching the crux of the 5.8 pitch one of Mr. P's Wurst. From the photo you can get some idea how overhanging the final bits of the pitch are. The other climber in the photo is on Madame G's.)
From our belay at bolt level, I traversed to the gully, downclimbed a few moves, and then made the step across to the other side. These moves are easy, but if you do it this way you need to place pro as you step down, and then again at the other side of the gully, if you want to protect your second. Again, probably it would have been better just to go up the gully.
Now I was finally on Mr. P's. The pitch wasn't difficult to follow. Good holds lead up and around the corner until you find yourself on the right side of the face of the Madame G buttress. The climbing is juggy throughout the first pitch, and the rock quality is generally good. The angle gradually steepens until it becomes overhanging for the last ten to fifteen feet of the pitch. The crux move comes at three ancient pitons. I equalized the lower two and then clipped the third one as well, hoping at least one of them would hold in the event of a fall.
A big move up to a bomber horizontal, a good cam, and another move up to a tenuous stance finished the pitch beneath a roof.
(Photo: Looking down from the hanging belay at the end of pitch one of Mr. P's Wurst (5.8). My belayer Margaret is in blue. The climber in red is descending by the bolted rappel route.)
I found the hanging belay suggested by Dick to be rather unpleasant. There are two ancient pins, plus enough horizontals to place a few cams. It isn't unsafe, but it is truly a hanging stance; I couldn't let go with both hands in order to set up my anchor. Equalizing the cordalette and tying it in a knot with one hand wasn't easy.
(Photo: Approaching the hanging belay at the end of pitch one of Mr. P's Wurst (5.8).)
Pitch two is rated 5.7+. I followed Dick's instructions exactly, moving through the roof at the break and then stepping left. The move was fun and well-protected (you can get a good cam in the break in the roof), but I thought it was a big, reachy move, definitely harder than 5.7. It reminded me of the crux moves on Maria Direct and No Glow, both 5.9.
The rest of the pitch was easier, but still good. Getting past another roof on its right side requires a couple more interesting moves, and then the route joins Madame G's to the finish.
(Photo: Just over the roof on the supposedly 5.7+ pitch two of Mr. P's Wurst.)
After I pulled up the rope and put Margaret on belay, she immediately took a fall. Then she seemed to have no trouble climbing the pitch. She told me when she arrived at the top that she'd tried the roof my way, found it ridiculously hard, and then had moved four feet or so to the left, where she found 5.7 climbing up past the roof.
So maybe Margaret's way is the right way to do it, since it is 5.7. But it isn't how Dick describes the route. Personally, I enjoyed pulling the roof, and I did exactly what Dick instructed me to do, but if you do it this way the roof move is the hardest move on the whole route, and the 5.7+ pitch becomes more like a 5.9-. So you make your own call.
I would gladly climb Mr. P's again, but I would do it differently. I would just go straight up the gully rather than deal with the bolted rappel freeway and the downclimb/traverse. And I think I would bring a few extra cams and runners and do it in one pitch all the way from the ground to the finish on the GT Ledge. This would avoid the unpleasant hanging belay. And then you'd get one super long pitch of juggy steep climbing, wholly in keeping with other great climbs on the same buttress, like Columbia (5.8) and Madame G's (5.6).
If you do it this way I'm sure you too will end up a friend to Mr. P.
(Photo: Below the roof on the first pitch of Feast of Fools (5.10b).)
What a difference two weeks can make.
During Labor Day weekend I felt a little rusty and out of shape, trudging up climbs in a sticky summer stupor.
But this past Sunday was like another world. The weather was absolutely perfect and I felt almost like myself again.
I drove up early from NYC and picked Gail up at her house in Gardiner. We didn't have much of a plan. In the time since Labor Day I'd made it to the gym a few times. I felt okay, certainly better than when I got back from summer vacation, but I couldn't say I was back to climbing my best. Nevertheless the night before we met up I suggested to Gail that I might be game to check out one of the Gunks 5.10's on my list, like Feast of Fools (5.10b) or even 10,000 Restless Virgins (5.10d).
It's easy to be brave in an email.
When I got to Gail's house the temperatures were still in the 40's (!) but by the time we got to the cliff and hiked up the Stairmaster it had warmed up. I was comfortable all day in just a tee shirt with no jacket. On the carriage road we could see lots of people streaming into the Trapps, but when we got to the Arrow wall we found ourselves surprisingly alone.
What a fine situation to be in: we had glorious clear weather and some of the best moderate climbs in existence right in front of us, all of them empty. We decided to warm up with a few of routes on this wall. Gail led the first pitch of Arrow (this first pitch is 5.6) and then I led our next three pitches, knocking off the upper pitches of Arrow (5.8), Annie Oh! (5.8) and Three Doves (5.8+).
The combination of cool temperatures and the white, marble-like rock of the Arrow wall was magical. Chalk was almost unnecessary.
Arrow is always a pleasure, and the bolts make it a totally mellow experience.
I was curious about Annie Oh! because I hadn't been on the climb since the scary loose block in the middle of the pitch fell out last November. I can't say its absence has changed the climb much. As I climbed the pitch I wasn't even sure where the block had fallen out from. One somewhat scary feature remains on the pitch, a flake/overlap that seems to be attached but which rings quite hollow. There is an old fixed Alien underneath it. You need to place pro underneath and climb atop this feature to do the route; if it ever comes off it could be ugly. Despite this one concern I love the second pitch of Annie Oh!; it has so many great moves on it, all the way to the very last one up a seemingly blank notch.
The top pitch of Three Doves is also fantastic. It is a step up in difficulty from Annie Oh! and it too has a strong hold on my affections. I love the delicate face moves to the roof and then the traverse right is exciting. I thought about moving left instead of right to finish through the 5.9+ ceiling of Hawkeye, just for a change, but it was only my second time on Three Doves and I was enjoying it so much I decided to carry on and finish it the regular way.
By the time we descended from Three Doves the wall had become very crowded. It seemed that every route suddenly had a party on it. (There was a leader on Annie Oh! climbing in bare feet!) We decided to return to the ground to see if Feast of Fools was available. I tried not to get my hopes up. I'd been looking to hop on Feast of Fools all year but because it has a bolted anchor atop its first pitch it always seems to have a huge group of top ropers hogging it. I assumed today would be no different, but who knew, I thought, we might get lucky.
It turned out no one was climbing Feast of Fools but there was a man at its base belaying his partner up the first pitch of Proctoscope (5.9+), around the corner. He said he was planning to lead Feast in a minute when his partner finished Proctoscope, but that if I wanted it now I could have it. His politeness overwhelmed me, so much so that I felt guilty about taking advantage.
Gail suggested I might like Proctoscope. (She'd been on it before.) I'd been curious about it, but it was not on my immediate tick list. I thought I had read that it was hard to protect. But when I looked up I could see that the man we were speaking with had several placements through the steep crux face. He had sewn it up. It looked quite safe. The climb would shortly be available. His partner appeared poised to finish up pretty soon.
I decided to give Proctoscope a try.
The first pitch is technical and challenging. The early going is easy, up a six-inch off-width that you can't protect without a Big Bro or some really big cams. But there are jugs in the off-width, so it really isn't a big deal. Once you get your first gear in, maybe twenty feet up, the pitch is very well protected from that point on. After the off-width you step left to a similarly easy chimney which leads to the business of the pitch, the steep orange face beneath a ceiling.
I really liked the steep orange face, and I did a good job on it.... until I didn't.
As of this writing there are two fixed pieces on the face, a piton right at the start, and later a fixed wire up near the ceiling, at the crux move. I clipped the piton and made the first thin, easy-does-it move upward. Then I plugged a cam in an obvious side-pull hold, being careful not to make the hold impossible to use. So far, so good. Gently stepping up again, I was already level with the fixed wire. It appeared I was one move away from a good hold, a jug up and left. If I could get up to that hold I might be done with the hard stuff. I'd just have to do a few easy moves up and left, skirting the ceiling and reaching the bolted anchor.
Only one thing stood between me and the onsight. The handholds were terrible. These are the "small, rounded holds" mentioned in Dick Williams' guidebook description for Proctoscope. I had a great foothold but I was barely holding on to a shallow crimp with my right hand. My left hand was on a sloper I considered basically useless. I was sure I'd fall if I released my right hand, so I carefully reached down with my left hand, got a draw and clipped the fixed nut. Then, feeling very tense and still gripping like mad with the right hand, I slowly clipped the rope to the draw.
Whew! Now I needed to move. I saw no good footholds, but I thought maybe I could step on this one indentation. I started to step up to grab the good shelf, but my toe slipped and whoosh, just like that, I was off. I had taken a fall on the fixed nut.
One move away from the jug. I was angry that I'd blown it. In my anger I rushed right back up there, got out of sequence and immediately fell again.
I recharged and tried to be more patient. And the third time it worked out. I didn't over-grip with the right hand, and I searched around to find a slightly better hold for the left. Once I found one I was able to bump up to the jug, and the difficulties were over.
This is a high quality pitch. I regret screwing it up. The fixed wire really helps. Placing your own gear there at the crux would increase the difficulty. It would be very tempting to just run it out to the next move.
We were planning on doing the 5.8 pitch two of Proctoscope so I stayed at the bolts and brought Gail up. When I arrived the man we'd met earlier had finished with pitch one of Feast of Fools and had his rope up on the chains for the other people in his party. And while I was standing there another pair, two young women, rapped in from a tree on the GT ledge. They were hoping to set up their rope to top rope Feast after the other party finished. When Gail arrived we had four people and three ropes on this one anchor. it was kind of a mess, but it was just another Sunday in the Gunks.
We waited while the other pair at the anchor sorted out their plans and then I led pitch two. I liked it. It is worth doing at least once. It features a fun roof problem, directly above the belay. The roof is well-protected and there is another nice move to get established above the roof. After that it has easy and not very interesting climbing going left to avoid the larger ceiling and head up to the GT Ledge.
We took a quick look at the third pitch of Proctoscope, which diagonals up the huge arching corner just left of the upper pitch of Nurse's Aid. This 5.8 pitch trends left until it reaches the top of cliff right next to Arrow. It is not recommended by the guidebook. It looked not-so-awful to us, but Gail's husband Mitch came out to meet us as we finished pitch two-- he has just begun climbing again after a lengthy battle with a wrist injury-- so we rapped down from the Arrow bolts to meet him. The Arrow wall was still packed with people, which worked out to our benefit. Janette Pazer of the famous Family Climbing group was there with some friends. They had the first pitch of Annie Oh! set up and they kindly allowed Mitch and Gail to take a run up their rope.
While Mitch and Gail were over on Annie Oh!, I staked out the base of Feast of Fools. The young women with whom we'd shared the bolted belay station were almost done with the route. By the time they cleared out, Mitch was free for me. I was all set to go. Mitch belayed me for my onsight attempt on Feast of Fools.
(Photo: Confronting the starting moves on Feast of Fools (5.10b).)
I'd been excited about this pitch for a long time. It looks intimidating, with a big roof providing the first crux and a second crux at a small overhang and steep corner above. I'd made a point of never top-roping it, hoping to "save" it for the onsight. And now the time at last had come. But as I started up I found the first few moves to be surprisingly mysterious. The sun was soon to go behind the cliff, but at this moment it was beating down on me. I felt hot, for the first time all day. I was nervous. I wondered, "do I really want to do this?"
The answer: I did, in the worst way.
After a minute I settled down and made a move up, then soon found myself beneath the first roof, which is really a big pancake flake stuck in the cliff. I had thought this wouldn't be so bad, since you don't really pull the roof but rather go around it, escaping to the right.
But the holds underneath are tiny crimps and it felt very committing to reach out to the big flake. I placed an Alien in the corner and cowered there for a bit. Then I made a reach to the right (see the photo at the top of this post), because I thought I needed to move over there before grabbing the flake. And it was strenuous to hang out there. The holds were tiny. Placing another piece there would be difficult.
I retreated back to the corner, and asked Mitch if I was going the right way. Did I need to go out there to the right?
"I think you do," he replied. "And I think when you go for it and just grab the big flake it will all make sense and you'll feel fine."
But it didn't seem like it would feel fine. It felt awkward and scary. I moved out again, placing another Alien. Then I retreated again.
Then I finally went for it and it turned out Mitch was right. As soon as I reached out and grabbed the pancake flake everything was fine. Moving right was easy, and then I was over the roof in no time. Crux number one was done with.
The second crux of Feast of Fools is famous for being protected by two old pins. As I stood at the rest stance beneath the pins I could see that it appeared one of them had been replaced. It looked brand new. I was thrilled.
But when I tried to move up and clip the pins I found it very difficult. The stance there is very steep and the holds are poor.
(Photo: At the second crux on Feast of Fools, at the pins.)
The first time I went up to the pins, I couldn't find the draws on my harness. So I climbed back down and moved my stuff around. The second time I went up, it was all I could do to hang a draw on the pin. I was afraid I'd fall if I tried to attach the draw to the rope. So I retreated to the stance again. After resting a bit more I went back up and clipped the rope. Then I retreated once again, and repeated the whole process with the second pin. I climbed up and down at least four or five times.
I am grateful that Mitch and Gail are patient people. I really made this pitch into a lengthy process. But I didn't want to blow it. I was determined.
It was finally time to fire through the moves.
When I went for it I found out I had already done the hardest bit, four or five times. Hanging on at the pins is the crux! I had the moves to the pins all worked out now, and once I reached up above the pins, there were no problems. The holds improved and in just a few moves the pitch was over. It hadn't been all that pretty but I had my onsight of Feast of Fools. It felt good.
It is a really good pitch, with two nice cruxes. It seems to me the hardest parts are not the cruxes themselves, but rather placing protection for the cruxes. And at both cruxes you can hang in there, get the gear you need, and then take a step back to rest before moving on. In this way Feast of Fools is easier than Proctoscope. There was no way I was down-climbing to rest after clipping the fixed wire at the crux on Proctoscope. I had to keep climbing or take a fall.
(Photo: Gail making it look easy while following pitch one of Feast of Fools, at the pancake flake.)
It would have been nice to do pitch two of Feast of Fools-- it is supposed to be a really good 5.10a pitch-- but we'll have to come back for that. Mitch was heading out, and the anchor above pitch one was still in heavy use from multiple parties. We didn't really want to be stuck there in a traffic jam again.
Instead we went to do No Glow (5.9). Gail wanted a nice casual lead and the first pitch is 5.4. I was happy to do the second pitch, as it is a pretty mellow 5.9 that I've led before.
(Photo: Gail in the unprotected early going of No Glow.)
I enjoyed No Glow, as usual, but just below the top I got scared when I placed my hand on a feature, not realizing it was actually a detached block. This block is just two moves from the top, a little bit to the right as you come up. It is about three feet wide, and is Texas-shaped. When I barely touched this block it shifted. I really thought it might come off. It scared the crap out of me.
(Photo: Yes, that is the block. Photo stolen from Gunks.com.)
I was also a little bit more unnerved than usual by the sickle-shaped flake/block that sits above and to the right of the crux move. Everybody yards on this block to get over the crux. But it is just sitting on a tiny shelf. When we rapped down No Glow last Sunday I took a closer look at this sickle-shaped flake/block and I realized for the first time that only its left edge is sitting on the shelf. The right side is actually quite a bit wider than the shelf on which it sits and it's just hanging there in space.
I don't want to overreact. There are many loose blocks all over the place, and these particular features on No Glow have existed there for many years. No one has died yet. But twice this year in Yosemite climbers have died after loose blocks were pulled off of popular trade routes. Just because it hasn't happened yet doesn't mean we should ignore obvious risks. I think these two features on No Glow are ticking time bombs. I'm done with that route.
If you climb it, please don't touch that block near the top. (It is easily avoided.) I think just a little shove would send it right down the cliff.
Anyway, nothing bad happened so it didn't put too much of a damper on our wonderful day. I left the Gunks feeling thrilled to have gotten a 5.10 onsight for once. It was a great start to autumn. I hope this fall will be a real sending season.
Two foxes (of a rare sub species) are currently moving up and down the mountain from Paradise all the way up to the summit. While the mountain is their natural environment, the food they have been eating this year has not been coming from the mountain, most of it has been taken from climbers and day hikers at Camp Muir. Foxes have been consistently searching out food left in backpacks and tent vestibules.
Sadly, we have experienced what happens when foxes become habituated and dependent on humans in the park - we lost our friend Pickles.
Mount Rainier is home for these foxes, meaning we can't relocate them nor would we want to. At this point we are trying our best to have the foxes and climbers interactions be kept to a minimum. Please help us with this effort by maintaining a clean camp and storing all food zipped up, inside of your tent. Day hikers and skiers please be tidy during snack breaks and clean up your scraps (both food and wrappers). Thanks so much for your help!
A week ago, I spotted a Rawland rSogn at the Brevet Season Kick-Off Party I wrote about earlier. Never having seen one in person before, I was extremely excited by the sighting.
Turns out this rare specimen belongs to local cyclist Jon D. Generous and trusting, Jon offered to lend me the bike to photograph and test ride. Long story short, Jon's Rawland is now staying over for a visit.
So what is so special about this bike? The Rawland rSogn is a production randonneuring frameset, made for 650B wheels and wide tires, with low trail geometry and standard sized tubing. Currently priced at $725 and available without a wait list, it is the most accessible frameset with this combination of characteristics available on the market today, as far as I am aware.
Not everything about the rSogn is "classic randonneur." The dramatically sloping top tube, mostly welded frame, and threadless steerer mark it as a modern bike. But for anyone interested in trying out the low trail/ 650B handling characteristics, this is a comparatively affordable way to go. And it's not just about affordability: rSogn owners seem very pleased with this model - describing it as fast, responsive, and comfortable over long distances. It is reputed to be a fast brevet/road-to-trail bikethat fits cushy tires and is optimised to carry a front load.
Rawland Cycles is a tiny operation based in Danville, California. Owner Sean and his spouse Anna run the company and design the frames, which are hand-made in Taiwan. Sean is of Norwegian heritage and he pays tribute to this with the Nordic theme that runs through everything from the company name, to bicycle model names, to the graphics and even frame design.
The story of how the rSogn came into existence has become almost legendary in bikey/internet circles, as apparently Sean asked for feedback in an open forum and tweaked the specs based on popular suggestions.
The result was a frameset with cantilever brakes, no toe overlap, massive tire clearance, eyelets for racks and fenders, and a variety of braze-ons including a pump peg on the left chain stay. Full specs are available here.
Aesthetically, my favourite part of the bike is the massive, double-plated fork crown - difficult to photograph because of the front rack attachment, but in person a commanding presence for sure.
Here is a side view. The flat top of the crown is engraved with Rawland's Nordically-stylised "R."
The decorative motif on the seat tube complements the font used elsewhere on the decals.
The bicycle's owner built up the frame with a needle-bearing headset, dynamo lighting, downtube shifters, cantilever brakes, a wide range double drivetrain, handlebars set slightly above saddle level, and a large custom front rack. The build is heavy on Velo Orange, mixed with Shimano, IRD, Grand Bois, Berthoud, Cane Creek, and other usual suspects. If you have a question about specific components, please ask in the comments.
Jon rides clipless, but he switched the pedals out for flat ones so that I could ride the bike. For tires, he switches between the 42mm cream Grand Bois Hetres for road-to-trail riding and 2" knobby Pacenti Quasi-Moto tires for rougher off-road stuff.
The front rack is designed especially for the Rawland rSogn by Haulin' Colin. It is 12" wide and can support a great deal of weight.
Jon uses the rack to carry heavy loads when cycling for transportation, but for road rides and brevets he attaches a small Acorn handlebar bag.
The bag is attached to the rack alone and does not require a decalleur; it appears to be pretty stable. To carry it off the bike, Jon uses a long Surly toe strap as a shoulder strap. Walking away with the bag slung over his shoulder, he left me alone with the Rawland.
While I love having the Rawland around to photograph, unfortunately I cannot review it - it is just too large for me. The frame measures 53cm x 57cm with a sloping top tube. Not only is the reach quite long, but even if we were to flip the stem and move the spacers, the handlebars would still be several inches higher than what's on my other bikes right now. Additionally, I am not comfortable using downtube shifters on serious rides, and there is no easy way to change this aspect of the build. All in all it just wouldn't be fair to attempt a review out of this. But what I can do is provide some feedback that is not test-ride-dependent.
On the positive side, I find the frame to be well-made and well thought-out. The joints are clean and do not call attention to themselves, the braze-ons precise, the fork crown beautifully executed. I really like the paint colour and the general frame aesthetics. I like that there is no toe overlap (though it's close and could depend on your shoe size and pedals). And the low trail design with clearance for 650B x42mm Grand Bois Hetres is what drew me to the frame in the first place.
As for drawbacks, the main one for me is weight: As shown, the Rawland rSogn weighs about as much as my similarly built Rivendell Sam Hillborne - close to 30lb. I am told by those who've ridden both bikes that the Rawland is more responsive and faster, particularly uphill, and that is good to know. But I'll be honest: I am a little tired of heavy roadbikes. I would like something lighter, and I know it's possible.Aside from this, I would of course prefer it if the frame were lugged, but that is a matter of personal taste. The double-plated fork crown and the decorative lugwork on the headtube do create sufficient visual interest to keep me from dwelling on this for too long.
Similarly to my Rivendell, the long and sloping top tube makes the fit of the rSogn somewhat tricky: Assuming that the rider wants their handlebars at or below saddle-height, they must pay attention to the top tube and head tube measurements, and not to the seat tube measurement in which the sizes are given. And judging by those measurements, the rSogn is not currently available in a size small enough to fit me well.
Coincidentally, Rawland has a new model coming out - the Nordavinden - that could address both of the above issues. It is a lighter, sportier frame, with an almost level top tube, and they are offering it in a size equivalent to the size I normally ride. While the larger frames are designed for 700C wheels, the smallest (my size) will be 650B with clearances for 42mm tires. If I were to consider a Rawland for myself, I think this model might be more appropriate for me than the rSogn. [Edited to add: There is now a review of the Nordavinden.]
For those interested in trying a low trail 650B randonneuring bicycle without the wait and expense of a custom built frame, the Rawland rSogn is a great deal. There are many happy owners who ride long brevets on these bikes. The Chasing Mailboxes couple each have one. Chris Kostman of AdventureCORPS has one and it is his favourite bike. And here is another owner's in-depth review.
And of course there is Jon, this particular bicycle's owner. Jon is only a little taller than I am and does not have the bike set up in a particularly aggressive manner. But according to his riding buddies, he is super fast on it. Jon has other bicycles, but the Rawland rSogn is his favourite - both for commuting and for brevets. Last year he completed a good chunk of the Boston Brevet Series on this bike, and hopes to do more, longer ones this year. He also rides quite a bit off road, and his rSogn turns into a mountain bike when fitted with fat knobby tires.
As usually happens with bicycles I am excited about, there is too much information to fit into a post without making it ridiculously long. If you have any specific questions, please ask and I am sure a number of owners reading this will be glad to give you feedback. My sincere thanks to Jon for being so nice and loaning me his bike. It is doing well here and making new friends. Full set of pictures here!
These are photos of the where the ruins are. 1st photo is of the remains of an actual ruin. Next is a pile of modern made adobe bricks that are being used to help keep part of the ruins in shape enough so that people can tell where these ancient Pueblo Indian homes were. Most of the photos are of rebuilt walls that are on top of what is left of the ancient walls. There has been one 'home' completely rebuilt. It has a ladder on the side as most of the homes were entered through the roof for protection, and privacy. There are doors there are barely wide enough for an average person to enter. The roof is low, and there is a fire pit for warmth and winter cooking. Vigas or wood poles were used to support the roof. Some of the 'homes' or apartments were as much as 4 stories high.
Here is another image of the upper Nisqually Glacier, with the route lines drawn. The 
