North and South Fowl Lakes

For quite a while now I've known about a road that goes to a boat access on North Fowl Lake on the Canadian side of the lake, but never knew just how to get there. Yesterday I spent the afternoon in Thunder Bay and on my way home I took some time to drive the logging roads and try to find the route to North Fowl Lake. It was actually fairly easy to find (of course, I had a GPS with me so I knew how far away from the river I was. This made it easier to find the route, even though the GPS didn't show any of the roads that I was on). I arrived at the North Fowl shoreline just in time to make the sunset image seen above. As I watched the sun go down I could hear several loons calling from across the lake. Loons are always a treat to hear, but their call is so much more magical when accompanied by a beautiful sunset.



(Above: The sand spit that separates North Fowl from South Fowl)

Now that I knew how to access these two lakes by road, I couldn't wait to get my kayak out on them. So, the next day I crossed the border back into Canada with my kayak and headed back to the boat landing on North Fowl. I spent the whole afternoon and early evening paddling on the lakes, wandering my way around, exploring the shoreline and the many wild rice beds that occupy the lakes. By the time I made it back to the landing I had been on the lakes for about 5 hours and covered over 10 miles. It sure was a great day!



(Above: Launching into the surf on South Fowl Lake)



(Above: "Goose Rock", South Fowl Lake)



(Above and below: I recently purchased a Canon G10 camera and an Aquapac underwater bag for it, with the intention of using it as my primary camera when I am out in the kayak. I also have several ideas for underwater images... one of them being the image below, which is an underwater view of wild rice on North Fowl Lake)

Hello Winter! Commuting in a Blizzard

Sunday morning. 17°F (-8°C). Blizzard. Snow emergency in effect.

The Co-Habitant has to work today. He prepares for his commute as usual.

Dragging the 60lb beast down the snow-covered concrete steps.

The snow is deep and I grow a little alarmed. "Are you sure you'll be able to cycle in that snow?..."

"No problem," he assures me cheerfully, putting on his convertible mitten-gloves.

And, with the quiet chuckle of a man who has conquered nature, he is off into the blizzard. I scurry back indoors to drink hot coffee and put on a second pair of wool socks.

Pictures taken with his mobile phone upon arrival to work. Lucky for the Pashley, his workplace provides secure indoor bike parking.

Ride report (in a boyishly excited tone):

"It was so dangerous. I only got off the bike once to cross a snow bank in [Harvard] Square. The worst part was snow in the eyes and face. The bike kept sliding but was going and controllable. Pretty amazing. The worst conditions in a while. Took me 20 minutes instead of 10."

Should I be worried?
Morning view from a window at his workplace. It continued to snow after that, still is. Hope my fearless commuter rides home safely in the evening!

I too tried to brave the snowy terrain today, though on a much smaller scale. I will save that for another post.

Antoine !

He's funny. I think. I'm nevercompletely sure.

He carries monumental loads of gear up to the crag, a huge BD pig full of bolting gear, music, stove, hammock, ropes and croissants.

He elegant, he's strong, he's ever so stylish.Don't hate him cause he's beautiful.







Antoine clips the first of a dense cluster of quickdraws.









That is a whole lotta muscle coming up that cliff underneath me. Twin chalk bags, big guns, odd shoes.

















We talk and talk, then Antoine will say "enough philosophy, let's climb"









Belayers beware. The Big Frenchman likes skinny ropes and roller biners. When he comes off it's like a bison comingatcha.













What are the odds hey.jjobrienclimbing had the lens open at the exact moment Antoine released his energy burst.Lucky I was at a safe distance.









Antoine wears: soft shell by Mountain HardwearAgriculturalists cap by John Deer

The annual Coolum "Sendfest" is the biggest event on The Cave calender and isthe brainchild of Antoine Moussette. Antoine keeps the score.

Points are assigned to the each climber on the basis of.... or maybe get added to the crag score or....... or something about acumulative something...



I really don't get it, but jeez it's fun. We climb, and Antoine and I drink a lot of chai and coffee.





He claims to be from Quebec. But he sounds French to me.

Tragedy in the Gunks: Stephanie Prezant, Age 22

(Photo:Stephanie Prezant, age 22.)



On Sunday something unthinkable happened.



A young woman full of life, just a few months away from college graduation, went outside climbing for the first time. She had no reason to think she was doing anything risky. She climbed an easy route,andbelieved the rope to which she was tied was secured to a massive tree on the ledge above her.



But when she weighted that rope the systemthat was supposed to protecther collapsed.Climbers who were nearby reported thatthe rope didn't catch her. Instead it (and the slings to whichit was attached) came tumbling down.With nothing holding her weight, the woman fellabout twenty feet to the ground.



Eyewitnesses said that rescue personnel came immediately, tending to her injuries and quickly getting her to an ambulance. Despite these efforts, they could not save her.



Young Stephanie Prezant died.



I never knew her, but as a member of the community of Gunks climbers, and as an ordinary human being, I feel such pain at this tragic loss. I can only guess at theanguish her family must be feeling.Being a parent myself, Ihave the barest inkling of the grief they must be dealing with. And as for the people who were with Stephanie when it happened, for them too this must be such a terrible time. I am so sorry.



I wish I'd been there. I wish I could have done something to prevent this horrible event before it all unfolded.



Whenever an accident like this happens, we climbers tend to come together and speculate about it on the internet. It may appear insensitive, but it is inevitable and probably cannot be prevented.



Part of this phenomenon, I think, is just the morbid curiosity we all share.But there is a more positive side to the internet postings.Thereis genuine concern in the communityfor the well-being of others. Another part of it is the worry we all feel as climbers. We trust our gear with our lives and when we hear of an accident wefear that our trust is misplaced and that we could be the next casualty. We want to know the details bothso that we mayavoid whatever mistakesmight have been made and also so that we can distance ourselves from the accident.If we canestablish that this accident was caused by one mistake or another, we can feel assured of our own safety because we would never make THAT mistake, whatever THAT mistake may be.



I am as guilty as anyone of participating in thisorgy ofcuriosity and speculation. When I heard there had been an accident I started a thread on Gunks.com seeking more information. Mostly I just wanted to hear that the young woman would be okay. But like everyone else I also wanted to analyze the event, to learn from whatever went wrong.



I guess I should have restrained myself. My own post on the accident was an example of how these internet feeding frenzies produce misinformation. I provided the few details I'd heard and one of them-- the name of the climb from which Stephanie fell--turned out to beincorrect. And then after some useful information surfaced, the thread devolved into the usual speculations and know-it-all prescriptive arguments, none of which were at all helpful to anyone. Another thread, on rockclimbing.com, followed a similarly depressingtrajectory.



I hope the Mohonk Preserve rangers who responded to the scene will eventually be able to make some determination of what really caused Stephanie's anchor to fail.



Here, on my blog, I do not wish to presume I know exactly what went wrong.Nor do I wantto make her climbing partners or family feel any worse.



Of course without knowing whatcaused the accident onecan offerno formula for avoiding this kind of disaster.



But the temptation to preach is irresistible.



I want to say:



Please, all you climbers out there, do not assume this accident was solely the result of inexperience.We don't know what level of experience these climbers had. Even if in this case it turns out they were all first-timers, we all know that experienced climbers toohave beeninjured and killed when they trusted faulty anchors. Whatever went wrong here, do not delude yourself: it could happen to you or me.



Be careful out there.



The systems we employas climbersare very simple. But inabriefmoment of complacency, or exhaustion, or distraction, it is all tooeasy to set upthese systems incorrectly. Here I am speaking not just of top rope anchors, but of all the systems we climbers use.And I speak from experience. We are all capable of failure. Eventhe best of us under some circumstanceswill fail to double back a harness, finish a knot, lock a carabiner, or attach ourselves properly to an anchor. Anyone can fail to ensure the ends of the rope are even or that both strands are through the rappel device. Anyone canload a GriGri backwards.



It can happen at any time.



Please remain vigilant. Double-check everything. And employ a partner check whenever you can. A fresh set of eyes is so often helpful. I have no idea whether it would have made any difference in this case. But it never hurts.



I have been fortunate. The times when I have screwed up, partners have been there watching for me. There have been no consequences. Others, obviously, havenot always been so lucky.



I like to think I have come through to the other side. ThatI have graduated from the screw-up years. But I know it only takes one lapse. When you trust your weight to your gear, it has to be right every time.



I want to do right by Stephanie. I want to honor her memory. I intend to do so by watching out, for myself and my partners. And for others. In the future Imay be less prone to walk away from situations that seem unsafe, and more prone to offer some friendly advice to strangers. It is allI can think to do.



I hope you will do the same.

Spotting Potami in Samos: Metamorphosis Church, Potami Beach and Hippy’s Place

Now that we have our rental scooter, Dutchman and I have started exploring Samos Island. One of our first stop that left a very long and positive impression on us, that we even both agreed to come back here another time, is Potami in Karlovasi (northwest of Samos).







This is Potami in a nutshell but there are other attractions and cool places in the area as well, so read along...



The Metamorphosis Church



As we slowly approached Potami, we saw this white and idyllic (chic-styled if I may add) small Orthodox Church. Something told me to stop by and we were glad we did. The church sits on a rock cliff and is also a viewing point! From its viewing platform are stunning views of the Potami Beach below.



As for its name, I have no idea why it is called the Metamorphosis Church.





















I highly suggest a quick stop over here for the scenic views.



Potami Beach



This beach is very distinctive because of its two side by side bays that is beautifully separated by a rock. Potami Beach is a pebble beach and the area has many interesting rock formations, there is even a waterfalls nearby in the forest and a river for those seeking a little bit of adventure and a change of scenery.

















There are tavernas on the main street and on the beach as well, and we went to check out the hip one located right on the water.



Hippy’s Place



Oh wow, what a cool lovely place!



And it looks like all the customers here were Greeks? Not sure if they were all local ones from Samos or vacationing Greeks from other parts of the country.













Having an ice cream and iced tea break from the hot scooter ride. This is indeed a very hip place.

















We are so coming back here and we’ll spend a day to laze on the beach, enjoy the cool atmosphere and music of Hippy’s Place and have lunch at another cosy open-air lounge restaurant along the main road.

Vienna's Wrong Way Bike Lanes

As many other cities with cycling infrastructure, Vienna is full of one way streets with bike lanes going against traffic. This is done to make travel more convenient for cyclist. The drawback is that it places cyclists and motor vehicles in situations where they can potentially collide with each other. One way this could happen is when the road is so narrow that a car cannot keep out of the bike lane entirely. Another potentially hazardous scenario is when vehicles emerge from around the corner, as shown here.



When I first saw the wrong way bike lanes, I was scared to ride on them. Surely it was only a matter of time before some car or motorcycle hit me head on? However, cyclists in Vienna use these lanes all the time, and as far as I know collisions are very rare. Eventually I got used to the design and began to trust it.



Drivers appear to be vigilant and in control of their vehicles; they can stop on a dime, and have for me. And no doubt the 30km/h (18.6mph) speed limit helps. The funny thing is that whenever I leave Vienna and remember the wrong-way bike lanes, their safety seems implausible. Only when I am here do I again believe that it's okay. What are your thoughts about this design?