Thank You, Family Tree Magazine

Early this afternoon, I took a break from research at the Family History Library and checked in on Facebook. There I saw a couple of mentions about Family Tree Magazine'sTop 40 Genealogy Blogs in .. so I clicked through and started reading the article. I was amazed and honored to find that Kinexxions had made the list in the "Story Time" category!



There are many fine genealogy blogs being written and it had to have been difficult to pare it down to just 40. I know I'd be hard-pressed to come up with such a list. But, like Randy at Genea-Musings, I was surprised to see some very excellent blogs missing. Congratulations to all of those who are listed.



For new visitors here, the post written in January for the 6th anniversary of Kinexxions, Now It's Six, provides links to the "year end" roundup posts and will give you some idea of what's been written in the past. Posts have been somewhat sparse thus far this year but more will be coming in the near future.



Thank You, Family Tree Magazine. I appreciate the honor and the recognition.

Errandeuring and Errant Weather

Today were possibly some of the worst conditions I have ever cycled in - a situation made all the more dramatic by the fact that I wasn't merely cycling; I was erandeurring. But let me start from the beginning. You see, there is an entire culture out there that thrives on turning transportation cycling into a sport in its own right - reinventing commuting as series of challenges to make it more interesting. While this approach is pretty much the antithesis of my own, I am nonetheless intrigued by it. When the utilitaire and coffeeneuring crazes swept the nation last year, I followed along with interest. Loosely modeled on randonneuring, these games involved keeping track of one's coffee shop and utility rides, complete with control cards and minimum mileage requirements. The authors of the Chasing Mailboxes blog in Washington, DC hosted the challenge, diligently collecting entries from participants all over the US, posting updates and results.



This winter they announced their latest project: theerrandonnee. Participants are challenged to "complete 12 errands in 12 days and ride a total of 30 miles by bike between February 9-20." A detailed list of rules was again provided, along with control cards. I read through it all and decided - what the heck - to give this thing a try. While riding a minimum of 30 miles in errands over the course of 12 days would not be out of the ordinary for me, I wondered what it would be like to keep track of this mileage, to categorise it according to the rules, and in general to reframe everyday cycling as taking part in a challenge.





The thing I did not foresee, was that the challenge aspect would become quite real. On February 9th we had our blizzard, and on the next day I still did not feel like braving the streets on two wheels. So as of this morning, I had only 10 days to complete the 30 miles of errands. Not only was there plenty of snow still on the roads, but it was now also raining badly.





I may lack the words to adequately describe today's road conditions. There wasn't just snow, there was deep water. Temperatures had risen sharply overnight, with snowbanks melting and additional rain coming down. By mid-day, some streets were downright flooded, and in many cases the water concealed slush underneath. On top of this, it was raining quite hard, with poor visibility and all the extra traffic chaos that comes with that. I now own a bright yellow raincoat for days like this, and that's what I wore. I also always have my lights on when it rains, despite it being daytime.





Even along stretches where the road itself was mostly clear, turns were treacherous, as that was where deep water and uncleared snow were gathered. Street corners were also where snowbanks were at their highest, which, as I soon figured out, meant that cars turning onto the main road from side streets had poor visibility. After a couple of close encounters, I decided the safest place to ride was smack in the middle of the travel lane.





Mid-day traffic was bad, and being on a bike did not put me at an advantage this time. Between the snowbanks and the trucks, there was not always a way to cycle past the standing traffic. My pictures were taken close to home, on a street where I felt it was safe to get off the bike and photograph the conditions of the roads. But for most of my route it didn't feel right to stop. Rain kept coming down, cars were honking at each other and executing all sorts of crazy maneuvers, roads were flooded and/or still covered with snow, and the whole thing was more than a little stressful.





In the course of all this, I completely forgot that I was errandeuring, remembering it only once I'd returned home. So far, the awareness of taking part in a challenge has not made me feel any differently about doing errands by bike. I had to go out today either way, and riding was still preferable to walking in ankle-deep water.



My impression of the utilitaire, coffeeneuring and errandonnee family of challenges, is that they are largely for athlete cyclists who might normally drive for transportation, but are looking to do it more by bike. The competitive paradigm appeals to them, so they've extended it to transportation cycling as a form of motivation. But I do know of cyclists who are purely commuters and have been enjoying the challenges too. Ultimately, I see errandeuring as a celebration of cycling, with its elaborate rule structure as largely tongue in cheek. Now to check whether bonus points are in store for the epic road conditions I've endured...

To Arlanda Express or not, and plane views

When we travel a lot we become slack at arriving at the airport on time. I also have a typical too positive attitude and daring character wherein I take risks. So that usually ends up me running down the hallways at airports. People never learn their lesson very well, huh.

Anyway, as usual I am running late. I arrived at Stockholm Central Station and hurrying up to get to Arlanda Airport, I contemplated on taking the cab, then there is the Arlanda Express which is the high speed train connecting Stockholm and Arlanda International Airport in Uppsala. It only takes 25 minutes. I was not really sure which to take. Should I take the Arlanda Express or not? The cab? Arlanda Express? Decisions, decisions and I do not have time!

Since I took the cab from the airport to Stockholm, as well as I heard from people and the woman at the Arlanda Express ticket counter that its traffic on the highways, I took the Arlanda Express option. The woman at the ticket counter was actually berating me why I was not early. Well, we had an earlier discussion about the time schedules of the train where in she asked me what time my flight is.

‘You should be at the airport 2 hours before your flight!!!’

Ooops. Yes mom! Er, ma’am...

She was really worried about me missing the flight, lol. I told her it’s alright, I have enough time to go through security. Arlanda Airport isn’t Amsterdam Airport. Well, I don’t think I was that convincing enough to her because she was quite upset me leaving so late for the airport. Oh dear.

Anyway, I got to the airport in time. I didn’t miss my flight =)

On the plane, I read about the Tasaday hoax in the Philippines. I remember this from school, in fact there was a textbook written about them and everyone truly believed they were primitive stone-age tribesmen. The Philippine government still stands strong to this belief. No sign of humbling up and accepting the misrepresentation but I know too well the Filipino (or Asian in general) value that is an institution itself called SAVING FACE. It’s a hoax people, stop pretending.

Tasadays on the KLM on-board magazine. The whole world knows its fake except that the Philippine government denies these allegations.

Here is the Tasaday story in the musem of hoaxes website: Tasadays a hoax. There is also a wikipedia dedicated to them. Elizalde have sworn the Tasadays authenticity down to his grave. But anyone who is not dumb can clearly see the loose ends. They were indeed primitive but not as primitive as Elizalde have claimed them to be.

Anywho, I have captured some cool plane views as well when we entered Dutch air space:

Stockholm to Amsterdam and vice versa is about 2 hours.

Gunks Routes: The Seasons & More

I'm getting behind in my blogging. I've been climbing but I haven't been posting. A few quick climbing days in a row plus a week's vacation will do that to you.



Flashback to June 20. My friend Maryana and I took advantage of a break in the summer heat to get in a pleasant weekday's climbing.



We both had similar goals. I've been working back into the 5.9's, and Maryana is starting to lead them too. Or I guess I should say Maryana has just started leading 5.9, but she's rocketing through the grade and I have no doubt she'll leave 5.9 in the dust in short order. As recently as March she'd only led a couple trad pitches in her life. But her growth has been rapid and amazing to watch. She weighs next to nothing, she has great instincts, and she climbs all the time. She also has several partners who climb much harder stuff. All of this taken together means she'll soon be leading climbs that I have hardly any hope of following, much less leading myself.



But for now, in this one brief moment in early summer , she and I can be plausibly considered equals.



On June 20 we had a really good day together. I warmed us up on V-3 (5.7). It was my first time on the route. It was pleasant but not as exciting as I expected. I thought I would be forced to use opposition and stemming to get up into the famous V-shaped notch that ends the pitch, but to my surprise I found good face holds inside the notch, pulled easily up into it, clipped the pin, and the climb was basically done. Nice, but nothing to rave about, in my opinion.



Then I suggested Maryana lead Absurdland (5.8; I believe Williams used to call it 5.9-). I led it two years ago, and I remembered it as having good crux thin face climbing, which is Maryana's specialty. I also remembered the crux as being short, so I thought it would be well within her abilities. I actually remembered the climb as being a little underwhelming, because after the low crux moves it eases off into mellow cruising on lower-angled jugs for the final two-thirds of the pitch.



Well, Maryana managed the low cruxes quite well, and placed great gear, sending the climb with style. As I followed the pitch I was impressed. The hard bit is a little longer than I remembered, with two or three steep crux moves in a row. The hands are good. The feet are thin and more of a challenge. The cruiser climbing above is very nice. I decided I've been underrating Absurdland. It is a beautiful pitch.



I next proposed we head down to The Seasons, for a couple reasons. The first was that I wanted to lead The Spring. I thought it fit my "easy" 5.9 criteria. The crux seemed like it would be short, at a little rooflet about 15 to 20 feet up, and it appeared the pro was good, with a vertical crack running up the whole pitch. I had seen reports that the early pro was a little tricky, but that the crux pro was solid. I was ready to give it a go.



The second reason I wanted to head down to the Seasons was that I hoped we could toprope the other, harder Season climbs, and that I would learn a thing or two from Maryana. One of the reasons she's improved so quickly is that she's been climbing with people who like to work these harder climbs. I wanted to see what she'd do with The Fall (5.11a) and The Summer (5.11d). And I wanted to see if I could do anything with them as well. I'm not much of a toproper but a few weeks before I'd been surprised at my success on Maria Redirect (5.11a), and I was curious to see if that success was just a fluke.





(Photo: Past the crux rooflet on pitch one of The Spring (5.9))



But before we could work on the 5.11's I had to lead the 5.9.



It went down pretty quickly. In my opinion the first pitch of The Spring is one of the easier 5.9's I've led this year. I got some disagreement on this point from other folks on Gunks.com, so you should keep in mind that I am fond of corner climbs like The Spring. Perhaps the climb actually plays to some unknown strength of mine, which makes it seem easier to me than it would to others? But in my experience, the moves up to the rooflet are straightforward, and then the move over the roof is strenuous but features great holds. One more steep move after that, again with very positive holds, and the real business of the pitch is over. What remains of the pitch is a somewhat awkward exit from the corner to the right and up, then the final easy moves to the bolted anchor.



The pro did prove to be surprisingly tricky. The crack at the back of the corner is the only place to put pro until you reach the rooflet, and it is a pretty thin seam. I worked in a nut a few moves up. I tested it for a downward and outward pull and I thought it would hold, but I also expected it to lift out as I got higher, and it did. Nevertheless I think this nut was acceptable for its purpose; if I'd fallen right after placing it I think it would have held me. I then worked a pretty marginal C3 into the crack just a couple feet above the nut. I wasn't sure what this cam was worth, but it was just another step to the rooflet, where I had dynamite pro in the horizontal to the left.



Above the rooflet, the crack at the back is again the thin seam, and if you feel like it you can hang in there and try to place a tiny nut. I didn't try. I took the extra step, and then got a bomber red C4 over my head where the crack widened. Looking at this pro afterward, I could see that if I'd blown the clip to the red C4 and somehow slipped with all that rope out, I might have been in ground fall range. But I think that was a very unlikely event, since the stance there was good. You could definitely put something in lower that wouldn't require you to pull the rope over your head if you were concerned about it.



My verdict on The Spring: fun, on the easy side of 5.9, adequate pro, but a little too short. Of course, if I were up to leading the 5.10 pitch two then pitch one would be a great warm-up.





(Photo: Maryana on the steep lower bits of The Winter(5.10d))



From the chains above The Spring I scrambled up and left to the tat anchor above The Winter. This tat anchor did not inspire confidence. The slings all appeared to be old and they were wedged in a constriction in such a way that I found them impossible to evaluate. Fortunately there is good gear there. I built a bomber gear anchor above the tat and we now had one end of the rope above The Spring and The Summer and the other end above The Winter. This was a nice setup for a weekday. On a crowded weekend this might pose problems as both The Spring and The Winter are popular leads. But no one came along wishing to climb the routes while we were there, so we were free to take our time.



After Maryana ran up The Spring, I gave The Winter (5.10d) a try. The lower moves are steep and strenuous but certainly easier than 5.10. The crux is just a few moves up a corner, similar to the Spring but facing the opposite direction, and featuring no juggy holds. Stemming and opposition technique are required for a couple moves, then better holds lead to the anchor.



I think I would have sent it on the first try, but as I completed the crux moves (stepping up to the prominent piton which isn't fully driven into the rock), I thought I pulled a muscle in my leg. As I stemmed there I suddenly felt a sharp burning pain, and because I was on toprope I had the freedom to simply let go immediately, cursing my aging body. After resting a bit I decided it was just a cramp, did the same moves again (leaning a bit more on the other leg!) and completed the pitch. I felt good about it, almost thinking I could lead it. My main concern would be that the crux gear involves fiddly nuts at the back of the corner in a thin crack, much like The Spring but with higher stakes and a much more likely fall. The pin is too high to really help you; by the time you clip it you're basically done.



After Maryana sprinted up The Winter with no issues, she removed my gear anchor and scrambled back to the chains, and it was my turn to try The Summer (5.11d). A nearly blank face leads up to the rooflet. Then steeper, thin face moves continue above the little roof. The whole thing looked really hard to me; I guessed the rooflet would be the crux.



I was wrong. The crux was the face below the roof, and I couldn't do it at all. It was somewhat dispiriting. I tried several different tactics, and Maryana eventually suggested several different strategies I hadn't considered, but none of them worked for me. There was a long reach to the better holds below the roof, and I couldn't make it work out. I couldn't use the tiny crimper holds effectively to get my feet up. For the first time, I think I got some real understanding of why people who train climbers talk about finger strength so much. I apparently don't have enough of it.



I was eager to watch Maryana figure it out, and after several falls she worked out a sequence that got her up to the roof. She was able to use a tiny hold as a side-pull, which enabled her to get her feet up and reach for the jugs. Then after one fall at the roof she figured that out as well and finished the route.



Even with Maryana's beta I still failed at the low crux. Eventually I gave up, cheated up to the roof from the side and was able to do the second crux moves after one fall. A little more falling upward got me up to the chains again, pretty worn out and beaten down. 5.11d is hard!





(Photo: Mr. Smooth leading The Fall(5.11a))



I set two directional cams above The Fall (5.11a) as Maryana lowered me. You could probably go without them, but you'd have to be really careful of the swing you'd take towards The Spring's corner if you blew the crux. We were both grateful to have the directionals in place.



I was excited to try The Fall because the crux move appeared to me to be really cool, and I imagined it would be super intimidating on lead. An undercling with good gear leads to a balancy crux high step up above the same rooflet shared by The Summer and The Spring. It seemed to me it was all about footwork and technique, not muscle.



Last year I watched someone I'll call Mr. Smooth lead it. I don't know his name, and at the time we'd never spoken. I was floored at how he calmly cruised up the route. Dick Williams says there is good pro for the 5.11a crux move, but that it is runout above for the rest of the way; in his words it is "5.8 R or worse." Mr. Smooth placed a cam in the undercling at the crux, and then as he gracefully made the crux high step he got a tiny wire in the vertical seam. Then he placed one more piece in the next 40 or so feet. He had three pieces of gear in the whole pitch.



It was quite a performance. Then I watched as his (absolutely gorgeous*) girlfriend cruised it and The Summer on toprope, as if these hard routes were nothing.



Later in the year I happened to see the couple again. I was leading the first pitch of High Exposure and I saw Mr. Smooth climb Modern Times (5.8+). He did the whole thing in one pitch, with practically no gear. He put a sling around a small tree on the GT Ledge and then placed nothing else until he got to the roofs at the top. Later at the base of the wall I told him how impressed I'd been at his lead of The Fall, and he said he'd been working up to it for some time and even backed off of it on an earlier occasion.



Maryana wasn't quite as smooth as Mr. Smooth. She had to take a few tries at the crux. I was interested to see her solve it without the high step Mr. Smooth had used. She managed it with a step-through, crossing one leg behind the other. She also seemed to have trouble seeing the crucial handhold, which caused her to fumble for it a bit.



I scored a small victory when my turn came. I got The Fall on the first try. On toprope, using Maryana's experience. I decided to try her footwork and it worked like a charm for me. But still. It felt good, especially after my total failure on The Summer. The Fall really is a one-move wonder. After the crux step up it is much easier. But with the lack of pro I can't imagine ever leading it.



I guess I'm warming up to toproping. It still isn't my preference, and I feel vaguely guilty while I'm doing it, which is just silly. But it's hard to deny it has benefits. After we finished with The Seasons I felt I'd gained some skills and insight, and I was pretty worked over besides. Not a bad way to spend a few hours.



* But not nearly as gorgeous as my wife, of course.

Jacob Berlin :: The Voyage Across the Ocean

As shown in There were three brothers who immigrated... Yeah, Right! Jacob Berlin arrived in Philadelphia on November 9, 1738 on the Charming Nancy with his two brothers, Frederick and Abraham. Jacob is my 6th great-grandfather.



List 65 A in "Pennsylvania German Pioneers" (Strassburger/Hinke, 1934) not only gave the names of the men over the age of fifteen years, but also gave their ages. Among the 65 men listed were: Hans Jacob Barlin, 22; Geo. Fredk. Barlin, 18; and Abraham Barlin, 16.







The Harbor of Philadelphia seen from New Jersey Shore, based on Scull's Map of 1754 (From Etching in The Historical Society of Pennsylvania) published in "Pennsylvania German Pioneers" (Strassburger/Hinke, 1934)



Since there is apparently(I haven't seen it)a record of their father, George, requesting permission to leave their home in Niederbronn and given the fact that he is not on any of the passenger lists for the Charming Nancy, it is presumed that George and his wife perished on the voyage on their way to a new life. Reading about the conditions on the ships and the crowded conditions, it is not surprising that they could be among those who died.



The year 1738 became known as "The Year of the Destroying Angels" due to a higher than average number of passenger deaths and illness on ships coming from England. Also that year there were a higher number of immigrants leaving their homeland, nearly 6000. The number of German immigrants arriving in Philadelphia had more than doubled each year beginning in 1735 with 268, 736 in 1736, and 1528 in 1737. Ships were overcrowded and heavily laden.



Part one of the article by Klaus Wust "The Emigration Season of 1738 – Year of the Destroying Angels" was published online in 1998, with his permission. I've picked out a few passages that mentioned either the Stedman Brothers or the Charming Nancy.

"In Rotterdam, additional merchant ships were fitted for the overflow of emigrants. Even the departures of John Stedman's St. Andrew and Charles Stedman's Charming Nancy were delayed by these transformations. Passengers said the two Stedmans had deliberately picked the healthiest and sturdiest people."

"Captain Walter Goodman of the Robert & Alice sent a letter back to Germany on October 19th. Excerpts were published in the Rotterdamse Courant two months later:

"On the 4th of July last I sailed out of Dover in England and arrived here on this river on the 9th of September with crew and passengers in good health but on the way I had many sick people, yet, since not more than 18 died, we lost by far the least of all the ships arrived to-date. We were the third ship to arrive. I sailed in company with four of the skippers who together had 425 deaths, one had 140, one 115, one 90, and one 80. The two captains Stedman have not yet arrived and I do not doubt that I shall be cleared for departure before they arrive since I begin loading tomorrow. I have disposed of all my passengers except for 20 families."

"On November 20th another letter from the people in Germantown to the people in Wittgenstein was sent. The letter concludes with an upward assessment of the total number of victims: "There has been a cruel, destroying angel among the travelers this year for the number of those who died so far on the voyage and here has reached about ..."

"The ship Davy qualified in the port of Philadelphia on October 25th. The next day the Gazette revealed the horrible story of this voyage. The captain, both mates and 160 passengers died at sea. It was the ship's carpenter, William Patton, who brought the ravaged vessel up the Delaware. Patton listed 74 men, 47 women and no children as the remaining passengers but only 40 of the men were well enough to come to the courthouse."

"Next appeared the long overdue St. Andrew, commanded by the favorite ship captain of the Germans, John Stedman. Several letters of passengers on some of his previous five runs between Rotterdam and Philadelphia were full of praise for him. This time, on a voyage that lasted twelve weeks, almost 120 passengers had died before reaching port on October 29th. The same day, Lloyd Zachary and Thomas Bond, two physicians recruited by the authorities to tighten the inspection of the incoming Palatine ships, presented this report to the colonial council:

"We have carefully examined the State of Health of the Mariners and Passengers on board the Ship St. Andrew, Captain Steadman, from Rotterdam, and found a great number labouring under a malignant, eruptive fever, and are of the opinion, they cannot, for some time, be landed in town without the danger of infecting the inhabitants."

"It was the last emigrant transport that John Stedman ever commanded. After his return to Europe, he settled down in Rotterdam in the shipping business. There was disbelief in the German community that such fate could have befallen a ship led by a Stedman. The Send-Schreiben expressed the reaction as follows:

"The two Stedmans, who had so far been renowned for the transfer of Germans and wanted to keep this reputation, also had to suffer the plight this time, one of them lost near 120 before landfall, although he had a party of the Hope's roughest and sturdiest folks, who had to succumb to sickness and fear of death. And the other one lost probably five-sixths, of 300 hardly 60 were left. His mates and some of his sailors he lost and he himself lay near death."

The online article ends at this point, I haven't yet obtained a copy of the entire article (it's on my To Do list). But after reading the above article, I think it is a wonder that the three Berlin brothers survived the journey. They were young and most certainly of strong stock. The conditions on board the ship must have been terrible. I can imagine the boys trying to help the other passengers and wonder what they must have thought of the situation. Obviously, I am delighted that they survived!

Bellavista on 3.5 limbs

Cold but happy climbers after Bellavista. Photo: Alan Cassidy (you should read his blog, it’s really good)




Before my ‘long shot’ trip to Bellavista with Alan Cassidy, I had a small hiccup. I was leading Hold Fast, Hold True (E9) in Glen Nevis a week before we were leaving and didn’t quite catch a hold right after the crux, slipping off and decking out from rather higher than one would like. I got away lightly, with quite nasty whiplash and a sprained left ankle. I was able to walk, well, between the kettle and the couch anyway. So I felt it wouldn’t be a problem for the upcoming trip.




I left it 5 days and then tried to get a couple of pre-trip training sessions in TCA before we left. To my dismay, I discovered that I couldn’t even nearly get a rockshoe on my fat, bruised foot. I had a session of one-footed traversing anyway and then went for an X-ray since things seemed to be getting more, not less painful. Sure enough, a couple of bone spurs that have restricted my left ankle dorsiflexion ever since I broke it in 1997 had broken off and are irritating my ankle joint. Some day surgery awaits. I’m quite looking forward to a couple of weeks of Beastmaker abuse during the Lochaber monsoon next month.




By the day we left for Cima Ovest, I’d managed to walk round Morrison’s, take Freida to toddler group and lie on my side in bed without taking Tramadol first. Things were looking up!













Alan trying to get the psyche to rock climb in winter climbing conditions




As I wrote in my last blog, we then proceeded to spend most of the trip being hammered by crap weather. The route was soaking, it rained, snowed, snowed a lot more and then got windy and freezing. We tried to climb on the 8c pitch anyway, but both of us knew we were getting absolutely nowhere. We became totally set in the viewpoint that having been soaking all week, the chances of it drying out a bit in our remaining three days were zilch.












Being practical, or venting wet weather frustration? You decide.




But it didn’t quite work out like that. On the third last day, I went out for a look on the 8c pitch first. The first half was still wet, but the second half was nearly dry, and I could link it to the belay straight away. Quite good. Alan went for his go and was also feeling like he could get to grips with the pitch a bit more. But then, as he was out of sight near the end of the pitch, I heard an “AAAAAGGHHH!”. The rope jerked momentarily tight, then suddenly slack again. Another loud scream and Alan appeared into view, dropping through space. He stopped, dangling at least 15 metres down in the void, with quickdraws sporting ripped pegs spinning down the rope towards him.




He was just sitting on a peg, brushing another damp hold when it ripped and the previous one ripped too. It must have been an exciting journey into space! After having a good laugh about Alan’s trip, we had a think about where this left us. There was now a big section near the end of the pitch with no gear in it. We were on budget flight mode and hadn’t been able to bring any pegs or aid gear in case we needed to re-equip.












In the end, we managed to borrow a hammer from the lovely folk at Rifugio Auronzo and I set up a tension traverse to back-aid and free climb back along from the next belay to the bit that needed re-equipping. I managed to get a sketchy cam in a pocket and gingerly sat on it and proceeded to fail to get the two ill fitting pegs to go in somewhere other than where they’d been before. After an hour, I had it sorted and the route was back online.




However, we had one day left. I just wanted to get the gear back and get home. Everything was wrong and I felt a bit fed up to be honest. My ankle hurt on the walk-in, I couldn’t do certain movements with it on the rock, I’d had my fill of climbing wet rock or frozen rock, we’d not had even one good day to try it properly. Worst of all, it was baltic.










Shall we go climb an 8c north face route today?




We’d not seen a single other party climbing on the north faces all trip. I’m not surprised. On the last day we wandered up, both of us ready to strip it and get on our plane home. Alan climbed the first three pitches (7b, 6c+, 6a+) in one big pitch again. He was clearly struggling to get any feeling from fingers and toes. It was well below zero and blowing a bitter wind. Seconding him, I felt like a frozen robot, clawing up the rock with zero feedback from my digits. Leading the next two pitches (7a, 7a+) I still couldn’t even get my core warm despite climbing in myArete jacket. However, by the time a freezing Alan joined me, the wind had dropped a bit and I was feeling more myself with the full belay jacket and trousers armoury on.




I went out along the start of the 8c and was most surprised to find a special scenario of feelings come over me that doesn’t happen every day. The pitch was the driest it had been all trip. First, there was the sudden rushing feeling of being confident flowing through the moves rather than constantly expecting to ‘ping’ off wet holds. ‘I can still climb!’ Second, the ‘last day’ go for broke mentality clicked into place. When all the preparation has gone so badly, what do you have left except to see what can happen if you just don’t care anymore and go for a good fight with the pitch? Finally, I knew I was going to have one link attempt, so I might as well get it over with as quickly as possible and get home to see my family.













Alan drying holds on one of the 'warm' days




So after the five minute warm up burn, I blasted off at full tilt, through the crux and onto the weird back-and-foot rest at the block above. I wasn’t that pumped. So get going! Up through the mono move and onto the big traverse. I was breathing hard but forearms were absorbing the hit so far. At the undercut move I decided to start really trying and grunted through. But I was able to rest each hand on every hold. I got down to the move before a rest at a huge ‘Hueco’ pocket. My sequence is to fling my feet up into the hole first, have a rest in the bat hang and then flip round and throw my whole arm into it. My ankle was so weak I couldn’t pull up on the toehooks and nearly fell off. I took a few seconds more to figure out what to do, before resting my left foot once and then trying again. It worked and Ihung from the arm-bar for five minutes, breathing slowly calming down. The final ten metres was a pure exercise in relaxation. I knew I could get to the belay if I didn’t make a mistake. The only way I’d make a mistake would be if I started to anticipate success. So I just switched off and pneumatic-ed through the holds with no emotion until the belay suddenly appeared in front of me.




Switching off completely means that when you do wake up and realise it’s done, it’s quite a shocker and the emotion comes flooding back. Alan wasted no time in gathering every down garment we had assembled at the belay and jugged up to join me, already shivering. I thawed out a little in the duvet while Alan cruised the 8a pitch above. I still had to jug up the rope and be lowered back down to do it myself, just to get the blood moving. The wind just kept cutting through me and in the next two pitches (6c+, 7a) I got really pumped on what should be easy ground. There just seemed to be no blood going through my forearms. We both had to second the remaining pitches to the Cassin ledge in the big jackets and duvet trousers! Never done that before, even in mixed climbing. There was just time to strip our gear out of the roof as it was getting dark and made it down to the base to find everything was frozen solid. We packed, rushed back to the car, then Venice for three hours sleep before boarding our flights back to Scotland.




It was really interesting for me to share the experience with Alan, who hasn’t done a great deal of mountain big wall climbs. Failing when the route is hard is something most climbers can deal with pretty well - why else do we try such hard climbs except to feel pushed and feel uncertainty? But failing through not being able to properly try can get under your skin. I certainly still find that creates a lot of restlessness in me. Last week I channelled it into finishing a draft of my book while the blizzards raged outside. Alan took it all really well and was able to keep turning on 'mission mode' all the way on the last day redpoint, despite the scary fall the previous day. His blogs through the week are a nice illumination of an adventure unfolding, the final twist coming right at the last hours before the flight home.




Even now I can’t believe that came together.

Valentine and Anti-Valentine Give-Aways

It has been pointed out to me via email by a helpful reader that I forgot to commemorate St. Valentine's Day with a give-away, a cocktail recipe, or at least a ridiculous post. Well, to tell you the truth, that's because I am not big on celebrating it. Exchanging gifts and going out to "romantic dinners" on a prescribed day feels forced to me and I prefer to just ignore the whole frilly pink business of it. But you are right: That's no reason to deprive my readers of a give-away. So, I will offer a little something both to those who observe Valentine's Day and to those who do not.



For the observers: A red hand-knitted hat. I have too much red yarn and it's a Valentine's theme after all, so it must be red. A second colour might be involved as well, but red for the most part.



For the non-observers: A black bicycle bell. No trace of red or pink what so ever; just liquid darkness over brass, and the promise of a shrill sound. Would look great on an all-black city bike.



To participate in the give-away: Simply leave a comment identifying yourself as either an observer or a non-observer of Valentine's Day. The 14th observer and the 6th non-observer will receive the appropriate items. You have until 6am of "the morning after" to post your comment. I will not publish comments until it's over, so you won't know what number you are until the end.

Showtime with the Lipizzan Horses

I have visited these horses and wrote about them enough times that I'm beginning to feel like a dating ad when I talk about them. It's hard to not talk about how fabulous they are when you share pictures of them. They are such gorgeous creatures.




They are strong, impressive creatures!



They even have great hair!



What I don't think I've talked about yet, is the fact that they are clearly trained to be showmen.



Since I don't speak horse, I have no idea if they enjoy us being there or not. But I can tell they are comfortable and used to us being there by how they interact with the crowd.



If those pictures were not proof enough, check out this one.

Best.Horse.Shot.Ever.



I swear he was looking at me saying," and hoooolllldddiiinnnngggg...please just take the shot already!"




Love the Lipizzaner horses. Living the life in sunny Florida.

Happy 80th Birthday Mom!

1928 - - 1943
1945 - -1966


1970 - - 1993
1996 - - ..

Reverse 'Weight Weenies'?

Alternating between the Royal H mixte and the Gazelle for transportation over the past few months, I've realised something funny: I have a minimum weight preference when it comes to commuter bikes.For fast cycling on hilly terrain, I love the feel of a light bike. But when riding for transportation in the city, the mixte is pretty much where I draw the line for how light I'd want my bicycle to be.Does that make me a reverse "weight weenie"?



What I like about commuting on heavier bikes, is that they tend to feel extremely sturdy in traffic. They also seem to have a more solid, commanding presence - useful when mixing it up with cars. I have found that drivers give me more room when I am riding something big and heavy-looking, possibly because they are more worried about damage to their car, should they accidentally clip me. Alternatively, it could be that on a massive bike - combined with an upright posture - I might seem like a more "legitimate" commuter to drivers. Whatever the reasons, I do tend to feel more comfortable and confident on a heavier bike in traffic than on a lighter one.



For me, the most important aspects ofride qualityin a city bike are stability, comfort over pot holes and bumps, and the ability to accelerate and slow down while maintaining full control. And heavier bicyclestendto do better in those areas. I am not saying "the heavier the better." But I think it is important to recognise that some of the merits of traditional city bicycles cannot be separated from their traditional heftiness.



The nice thing about my mixte, is that it can go from being laden with bags for commuting, to being light and ready for a fast ride, in a matter of seconds. And, unlike most other light bikes I've ridden, this one is comfortable over bumps - a major plus. For those reasons, I have been riding the mixte for transportation more than I thought I would (the bike was originally intended for long country rides). But she is definitely my lower limit for how light of a bike I enjoy riding in traffic.

Local Give-Away: Basil Tour Panniers

I've received an extra set of sample panniers from the Dutch bicycle accessory manufacturer Basil, to give away locally as I see fit. Can't decide who to give them to, so will use the blog and pick randomly. Local readers, this one's for you:






Basil Tour Panniers

silver and black

32cm x 12cm x 32cm

26L capacity



Reinforced construction in durable water-repellent 600D polyester; zipper side pockets, double reflective stripes on all sides, bands for LED/ straps/ child's seat. The panniers are a unit, connecting over the top of a rear rack. Inner edges are tapered to prevent heel strike on bikes with shorter chainstays. Good for commuting or touring.




Give-away terms:




1. You must be reasonably local, as defined by coming to claim the panniers in person from Broadway Bicycle in Cambridge MA.




2. You must have ridden your bike at least once since February 8th, of which you must supply photographic or verbally descriptive evidence in the comments here.




Otherwise, that's it. Hopefully, this will be a little pick me up for someone braving the snowy weather! If you'd like the panniers, leave a comment between now and 11:59pm tomorrow night (February 20th, ), and don't forget to include your email address. I will pick from eligible entries at random.




Basil is making an effort to streamline their North American distribution and we should be seeing more of their products in local bike shops soon. Many thanks to them for the sample panniers, and I hope the recipient enjoys them.

Cowboy Drink Pitcher

Mother got this little kids milk, or drink pitcher for me when I was about 2, I think. Which would have been in 1953. (Now I'm telling my age) The hat comes off to pour the drink into the pitcher and then the spout is the little gun that the cowboy is holding. It was well used my me and my sisters. Mostly for milk and kool-aide. I have no idea where she might have got it but my bad memory says it was something she ordered through a mail advertisement, but I could be wrong. With my love of all things western it has long been a prized possession. I allowed my son to use it on special occasions as by then it was showing signs of wear. The paint is almost gone from one eye.