Blue in the Garden

Spring Blue, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Those containers filled with California native wildflowers are starting to bloom now. After fairly slow growth due to about 2 weeks of continuous rain, they are now sending out flower buds and leaves in every direction. This flower is a baby blue eye, Nemophila menziesii.

I'm not in Kansas anymore!

Ah, there's no place like home. An old cliché but oh, so true. As much as I enjoyed the brief sojourn in Springfield and roaming around the countryside in eastern Kansas, and even though I was gone only ten days, it sure feels good to be home.

I decided not to go to Iowa. Mixed results and a bit of frustration in Kansas, combined with realizing that there really just wasn't enough time to do full justice to the search, and the fact that I was just plain tired, lead to the decision to head home yesterday. I got home at about 6 p.m. this evening.

On Monday, from Baxter Springs I drove west on US 160 towards Grenola, in southwestern Elk County. I stopped at the library in Moline, but it was closed. I was hoping they had a diagram of the layout of the cemetery in Grenola. On Sunday (11/18) I had found the transcriptions online for Rachel (Fisher) and John Harvey in Greenlawn Cemetery in Grenola, Greenfield Township, along with several of their children, in section "B". Rachel is the sister of my 2nd Great Grandmother, Louisa Fisher Phend. Rachel died February 18, 1899 and John died in September 1899.

Moline is a small town but Grenola is even smaller. It was about 3 p.m. as I drove down Main Street and I felt as though I was in a ghost town. Not a soul was stirring, not an open store in sight. At the end of Main Street was a sign pointing left that said "cemetery" so I turned. It was a narrow road and seemed like miles, but was probably only about one. The cemetery was on the left, on top of a hill. I turned into the cemetery on the first lane. It was huge. The sections weren't marked. I thought there was no way I'd find them. I drove down each lane, slowly, hoping I'd see their stones.

There have been several times when searching for ancestors that I've gone to a cemetery knowing they were buried there but not knowing where and walking directly to their gravesites. But alas, no such luck this time. I stopped and walked around for a while then gave up and drove on to Winfield, county seat of Cowley County. Rachel and John had moved to Harvey Township in Cowley County sometime between 1870 and 1880. Harvey Township is bordered by Greenfield Township, Elk County on the east, which is probably why they are buried in Elk County.

Tuesday morning I went to the Courthouse in Winfield. Their original marriage record books have been moved to the Cherokee Strip Land Rush Museum in Arkansas City, about 12 miles south of Winfield. The Probate office has the records digitized on CD Rom discs and they charge $12 for a lookup if you don't have the exact date of marriage. Which of course, I didn't have. Just have an approximate year, and several names to lookup. I asked about Guardianship or Probate records since Homer, the youngest son of Rachel and John, was only 16 years old when they died. The index books didn't list them. The clerk didn't seem to know what the transcribed information online for Homer meant.

Next stop was the Winfield Library. They have a nice little local history section but I didn't find anything helpful there. I then went to the Cherokee Strip Land Rush Museum. If you have ancestors or relatives that lived in the Winfield and Arkansas City areas then this place should definitely be on your list of places to visit. In addition to the Original Marriage Record Books, they have cemetery records, obituary notices, miscellaneous newspaper clippings, etc., etc. for COWLEY county, and lots of neat things on exhibit. I didn't find anything helpful in my search for the Harvey family except that it appears that none of their children were married in Cowley County!

Since it was "sort of" in the direction of my next destination (Iola, Allen County) I decided to go back to the cemetery at Grenola thinking maybe I'd get lucky this time. Nope. I walked through each section, up and down the rows, for about two hours. It was a gorgeous day. Sun shining, blue sky, not cold, just a little windy. Maybe John and Rachel and some of their family are buried there, but I sure didn't find them! Did get some exercise though.


One of Rachel and John's children, Lillian, and her husband Orlando Sellers are buried in Moline Cemetery so I stopped by there on the way to Howard, the county seat of Elk County. I found the cemetery but when I saw how big it was, bigger than Greenlawn, I turned into the first drive to turn around and leave. As I glanced to the right to check traffic, there they were, right up front, next to the road. Now, why couldn't that have happened with John and Rachel?

By the time I got to Howard the courthouse was closed so I went on to Iola. My intent was to spend Tuesday night in Iola then go to the cemetery and library, etc. to see what I could find on William and Minerva (Joslin) Knight. Minerva is a sister of my 2nd Great Grandmother, Malissa Joslin Brubaker Bower. William died in 1902. Minerva then married a J.N. Storey and reportedly died May 12, 1905 in a wheelchair on the street in Hot Springs, Arkansas. William and Minerva are buried in the Iola Cemetery.

It was dark when I got to Iola so I went to find a motel room, but there was no room at the inn. Three motels in town and they were all full. Nothing available in the nearby towns, according to the innkeeper. It was 50 miles or more north to I-35 and Ottawa, which was near my next destination of Lyndon. . . to be continued.

On The Road Again...

Saturday March 12, .. – Five days ago, on the morning of March 7th, I left Columbia City, Indiana heading south for, hopefully, sunshine and warmer temperatures. As I passed into central Kentucky I noticed the grass was a little green and then through Tennessee things warmed up a bit; some of the trees were sprouting little leaves and bushes (don't know what kind) were blooming too.



I stopped in Huntsville, Alabama and spent two nights with a friend (and distant Joslin cousin - 3rd cousin once removed). Tuesday night they had high winds and got over three inches of rain, which altered my traveling plans somewhat. Instead of meandering through on state highways I stuck to the Interstates. Just didn't want to deal with any flooding issues. And from the Interstate you could see that the streams and rivers had risen over their banks and the waters were flooding nearby land.



It rained much of the day Wednesday but at Montgomery I decided to strike out to the southeast taking US 82, which goes all the way to Brunswick, Georgia. It was a pleasant drive and much less stressful than the Interstates though it rained all afternoon. That night I stopped at a nice campground at Lakepoint Resort State Park north of Eufaula, Alabama and just a few miles from the Georgia state line.





The next morning (Thursday, March 10th) I was most pleased to see the sun coming up through the trees. There was some fog but it burned off quickly. The above photo was taken through the rear window. The dark lines across the picture are from the window defroster.



By 2:30 pm I had checked into the campground at Laura S. Walker State Park just east of Waycross, Georgia. That evening and the next day I visited my niece and her daughters and delivered some things that my Mom wanted them to have. Today (March 12) was spent in just relaxing and taking it easy. I went for several walks, easing back into activity as it has been more than three months since I've done any walking let alone hiking!



I did get my wish - temperatures were in the 70s and there was lots of sunshine!The scenes below are of the lake at Laura S. Walker State Park. Photos were taken on March 12, ...





Morning fog rising off the lake.



Lilly pads.



And, of course, a Sunset...

Sunset over Kanopolis Lake

Saturday, May 7th - - After such an exhilerating visit to the Center of the US and the Largest Ball of Twine, I headed south and ended up at Kanopolis State Park. It is located 33 miles southwest of Salina. It was a scorching 95 degrees by the time I arrived – and the air conditioning wasn't working in the van! I found a nice primitive campsite with shade and settled in for a late afternoon nap.



Toward evening, it started cooling down and I went for a walk down toward the lake. There I found just the “right spot” for viewing the setting sun. The skies had been hazy all day and the haze created the perfect atmosphere for an amazingly colorful sunset.

Hambleton peninsula - Rutland Water

We drove out to Hambleton and parked by the road out of the village - ok on a quiet rainy Thursday in April - probably impossible on a sunny Sunday in July or August! Just over six and a half miles, with Maureen, Barry and Gordon. Fine, with one brief shower.



As well as the scenery we were treated to some great birdsong - I think the most tuneful was a great tit, but the chaffinch was a close second.

A fine specimen - stone cockerel - in welly boots?

We walked back through the village and turned right along a muddy footpath downhill between fences, and then across a field (wet on this occasion) joining the main cycle track at a corner.

Waterside woodland carvings

Then we followed the path through some woodland until we met the road. We decided to go down to the spot where it disappears under water, and there is now a convenient bench.

After this we returned to the main route, which took us through more bluebell woods, not yet quite at their peak and round to the road to Hambledon Old Hall.

Not a bad spot to live?

At this point the first real rain of the morning started, so we donned waterproofs, and continued on the track across the road. The wind was strong enough to blow the shower away rapidly.

Be prepared!

A stone figure in need of some waterproofs?

When we reached the main road we decided against a walk to Egleton - too much walking at the side of the road. So back to the car, following the cycle track until we met the path we'd come down earlier.

Back to the car . . . and a slice of birthday cake - thank you, Maureen, and I agree, birthdays should be extended over at least three weeks. Happy Birthday to Maureen as well!

The rain held off, and the drive home was dry and clear.



Now, as I write this I can hear the rain hammering on nearby conservatory roofs.





map and details



For more fanciful accounts see this postand the preceding one on my alithoughts blog.

A Weekend in Rumney

(Photo: the weekend crowd at the Bonsai Wall, Rumney, NH)

I expected not to like sport climbing at Rumney very much.

I'm a Gunks guy. I like trad climbing. I like multi-pitch routes. I like the unknown.

Sport climbing is different. It's about exertion. It's about efficiency, and power, and the moves. Now, I have nothing against efficiency and power and movement-- I work all the time at these things in the gym. These things are all a part of trad climbing too, of course, but to me trad climbing is about so much more.

I associate trad climbing with peace, nature, and adventure. Sport climbing? It's fine, but to me it's closer to the gym experience than the trad experience. It just isn't my preference. Don't get me wrong, I like climbing in the gym. Actually I like it quite a bit. But if I couldn't trad climb outside, if the gym climbing weren't done in the service of the outdoor trad climbing, I don't know that I'd bother with it. The gym/sport experience is fine on its own terms, but I don't think it'll ever be the point of my climbing. That's just me.

Because of my bias towards trad, the customs of sport climbing are foreign to me. I couldn't care less whether your ascents are redpoints or pinkpoints, for example. Honestly, does anyone actually care? And for the love of God, I don't want any of your stinking beta. Sport climbers seem to have an incurable predisposition towards spewing beta in all directions, and it drives me insane.

I actually coined a term a couple seasons ago for my anti-beta position, which I hope to popularize. I want all my climbs to be "VHS." Do you follow me? Here, I'll show you an example of the proper usage:

Raul, would you shut the fuck up? I'm doing this climb VHS. That means NO BETA!

Please, everyone, start using my terminology. Do your climbs the VHS way. No beta! Stop the spew, I'm begging you.

But I digress. We were discussing Rumney.

There's this great, inspiring web site put up by a couple named Eric and Lucie, about their years spent touring North America's best climbing areas full-time while living in an old bus. These two have been all over the place and they prefer long trad routes that follow natural lines. In the course of their travels they've climbed world-class routes in Red Rocks, Yosemite, all over Colorado and Wyoming, you name it. Well, they spent a few hours at Rumney on their way to the Gunks and this was their verdict:

"We stop on our way at Rumney, the premier sport climbing venue in the Northeast, located near the small college town of Plymouth, NH. Very popular and crowded crag. We climb a few routes there, but basically hate the place. Steep jug pulls on very uninspiring rock... Let's face it, we are not sport climbers."

I am no Eric or Lucie. I have not climbed all over the place, full-time, for years. But I think I share their preferences. And so I expected not to like Rumney very much.

To my surprise I liked climbing there.

First of all, overhanging jug hauls can be lots of fun. We spent a good part of our first day at the Bonsai wall. This wall has a looming overhang, and some of the climbs that ascend it have one big, positive jug after another; the only challenge is to hold on long enough to get through it. These enduro-fests are fun. They have their place.

Secondly, the routes aren't all like that. Up at the Jimmy Cliff, for instance, there's a 5.10a called Lonesome Dove that's a beautiful, delicate slab climb requiring careful footwork. And there's a very similar 5.8+ right next to it that's just as nice.

And while the cliffs are not huge by any standard, they are appealing most of the time. I can see why the rock at Rumney might seem uninspiring, especially if you don't go far from the parking area. We began our climbing at a convenient crag called the Parking Lot Wall and while it does have the advantage of proximity (and some crimpy face routes) it is not nearly as impressive a cliff as others like the Main Cliff (which actually has some multi-pitch routes on it), Waimea (a hardman crag full of 5.12s), and the Hinterlands. The Hinterlands cliff was a particular favorite of everyone in my group because it features an imposing knife-edge arete with a fun 5.10a climb on each side; on one side is a climb called Jolt, and on the other is Dolt. No, Rumney isn't a place that will take your breath away, but it does have some nice-looking rock, in a pleasant wooded setting.

I was climbing 5.10s at Rumney, so obviously the ratings must be soft, although I don't think they're soft for sport. On the first day I didn't lead all that much; I wanted to get a feel for the climbs first. By the time we left on Sunday I'd led a couple 5.10a's (along with a bunch of easier stuff) without a hitch and my best toprope performance was a clean 5.10c. I was happy with this.

But while I enjoyed the climbing, and had a fantastic time with the friends with which I came, there is definitely a dark side to Rumney.

The weekend summer crowd at Rumney is insane. It was worse this weekend than I have ever seen it in the Gunks. It was as if you took the Uberfall crowd on an October Saturday and multiplied it by ten. And you couldn't walk away down the cliff, like you can in the Gunks, to get away from the hordes. Rumney isn't big enough for that. The crowd is everywhere. You can't escape. The climbs are occupied no matter where you go. You're either waiting for a climb or someone else is waiting for you. The path at the base is an obstacle course of people, ropes, dogs, and diaper bags.

Worse than the crowding itself is the type of crowd that seems attracted to Rumney. People new to climbing like to come in large groups. I don't know where they come from. I'm talking about a dozen, maybe two dozen people in one group. You'll see a few people coming up the trail and then they keep coming, and coming, and coming, as if they are emerging from a clown car. And then they'll park themselves at a crag and hog the climbs for hours. One or two "senior" members of the group will have some idea what to do and will set up the climbs for the others, who are waiting like sheep to flail away at them, assisted of course by oceans of spewed beta advice... and on and on and on, as every climber in the group is invited in turn to try every climb simultaneously being held by the squatters.

This type of crowding creates an oppressive atmosphere. I remember when my wife and I visited Prague back in 2002. We liked the city very much but after a couple days we gave up on the central, preserved, pretty part of town. It was ruined for us by tourism, and it wasn't just that it was crowded. It was the tour groups. These groups would tramp blindly down the street in such numbers that you had to struggle to get by them. Sometimes it was a battle not to be swept up into them. And after a few days of physically fighting through these groups just to cross a pretty square or get to the door of a church, we were ready to give up. It wasn't worth it. And sometimes this weekend, Rumney remined me of Prague.

I'm sure I must sound elitist. I have nothing against new climbers. We've all been there. I'm really criticizing the leaders of these parties, who should split the goups up into smaller units, and not shamelessly hog the best climbs for half a day. The group I was climbing with was actually pretty big. It included seven climbers. But in contrast to these massive climbing parties we were seldom, if ever, all in one place at the same time. We'd stay in touch, mix and match, go up and down the crag, get together and drift apart. We weren't doing it to be nice. It just sort of happened without anyone planning it, but it worked out in such a way that we got to climb in a variety of places without holding anyone else up for hours and hours.

That's the way to do it, people.

A final observation about sport climbing, and this is not specific to Rumney. I found that it can lead to a scary complacency. Bolts provide an illusion of security, yet climbing is still a dangerous sport, even with bolts. Of course we all know this. But one must be ever vigilant about observing the basics in climbing, and something about the ease of sport climbing seems to wreak havoc with one's concentration. Things are assumed that should not be assumed. Plans for the lower-off are insufficiently discussed and then miscommunication can occur when the leader reaches the anchor. I saw such developments in my own group and in numerous others, and I am just as much to blame for it as anyone else. No one got injured this weekend but with all the obvious, oblivious newbies floating around a place like Rumney on a busy weekend, and all the stuff I saw going on, it's kind of remarkable no one did. Personally, next time, I'll try harder. I'll be discussing more in advance, watching more, speaking up more.

My verdict: I liked Rumney well enough. I'd gladly go back. But during the week. And only after fully exploring NH trad options like Cannon Cliff and Whitehorse/Cathedral Ledges. I can only compare Rumney to one other sport climbing area, Red Rocks, NV, and Red Rocks is so far superior to Rumney in every conceivable way it is difficult even to begin to discuss it. The climbs, the rock, the scenery, the crowds, plus the availability of world-class trad climbs... and when you think about it, Red Rocks is nearly as convenient as Rumney to NYC so long as you are willing to pay for the flight. But the weather is brutal there in summer so I'd recommend Rumney over Red Rocks in August. In the Spring and the Fall, however, I'd seriously consider flying to Vegas over driving to Rumney, even for just a couple days. If I lived in New England, on the other hand, I'm sure I'd go to Rumney all the time.

Monument Valley

Monument Valley is probably the most well-known spot in the southwest. Practically everyone alive today has most likely seen images and/or video from Monument Valley, whether they realize it or not. Many western movies have been filmed at this location and photos from Monument Valley are often used when it comes to promoting the southwest to tourists.



It certainly is a beautiful place and a worthy stop for any traveler, especially photographers. If you want to explore the valley beyond the scenic drive, however, you'll need to hire a Navajo guide. You can drive your own vehicle around the scenic loop which has views of the main features of the valley, but you cannot stray from the scenic loop road if you are on your own. These images were all captured from the scenic drive, as I chose not to go with a Navajo guide... although someday I would like to hire a guide to get some local insight into the area. I chose not go with a guide because of time and because of the conditions. If I was going to hire a guide I would like for it to be a nicer day, so I could enjoy it more.



It was very windy during my visit, with dust and sand blowing everywhere. I had been considering staying at the new Navajo hotel right in the valley, but with the conditions the way they were I decided to head further down the road.

(Above and below: There are some very interesting views approaching the valley from the surrounding highway.)