The Best 5.6 Climbing in the Gunks

(In the photo: climber reaching the optional hanging belay point at the end of pitch two of Madame Grunnebaum's Wulst)

You don't see too many blog posts about 5.6 climbs.

What kind of climbing blogger admits to being excited about 5.6?

Well, 5.6 is the first GREAT grade at the Gunks. There are many 5.6 climbs to get excited about. I would argue that 5.6 is one of the premier grades at the Gunks. There are more world-class Gunks 5.6's than 5.7's. And although 5.8 is also a great grade at the Gunks you could easily make the case that 5.6 is even better.

So here are some of my favorites, and these are not just climbs that top out at 5.6, but also a few 5.6 pitches that you'll find on some harder climbs. I am not writing guidebook entries here, so I do not intend to help you find the climbs or describe every single detail. Rather, I hope to explain to you why you should like them as much as I do.

THE BIG THREE

Any discussion of 5.6 at the Gunks has to contend with the three consensus bests. People travel long distances to the Gunks just to tackle these classics. They are so well-known, I probably don't even have to name them. They are High Exposure, Shockley's Ceiling, and Madame Grunnebaum's Wulst (popularly known as Madame G's). I'm not about to tell you that these beloved classics stink. But I do have some opinions about them that may buck the conventional wisdom just a bit.

High Exposure

High E is extremely popular. Every time I am nearby I find it occupied. I frequently see newcomers fumbling about trying to locate the start of the climb, clearly on a mission that depends wholly on climbing this one route. A couple weeks ago, when we had a brief spell of perfect June weather, I took a day off from work and visited the Gunks on a weekday. My partner and I had our pick of routes. Very few climbers were about and no one was waiting for anything. But High E? When we walked by it had two parties at the base lined up to climb it.

In order to climb High E you have to be prepared to wait for it. Is it worth the wait?

I would say it is, but I also think it can't possibly live up to the hype. It is overrated. The first 5.4 pitch from the ground to the GT ledge is perfectly pleasant but totally unremarkable. The second pitch has the big move out onto the face, which is not physically challenging. There is a great vertical crack for a sidepull and bombproof gear; you just have to lean out (this is the mental crux) so you can look up and locate the jugs above. This mental crux is the moment that makes the climb's reputation, and it is very good. The rest of the pitch consists of about 40 feet of moderately overhanging jug pulling. It is a nice pitch, and it is in my opinion a great early 5.6 lead despite the "+" in the official rating, since the juggy climbing resembles gym climbing, and the pro is abundant. There's a good horizontal for a cam wherever you want one. But it isn't my choice for best 5.6 in the Gunks.

Shockley's Ceiling

In contrast, Shockley's does live up to the hype. At least the third crux pitch does. The first two pitches are easy throwaways. But the last pitch, which ascends through the improbable ceiling, then moves up a left facing corner to another crux at a small overhang, is worth all the accolades. This is another 5.6 that, despite appearances, is a great climb for newish 5.6 leaders, since there are three pins right below the crux crack, and you can put a perfect #2 Camalot into that crack and feel completely secure that if you blow the ceiling you won't be falling far. Once you're past the ceiling, you can bask in the glow of your accomplishment while you cruise up to the second crux, and then you have to focus again (think layback) to finish it off. This final pitch alone makes Shockley's Ceiling a worthwhile adventure but you can make it even better. If you do Strictly From Nowhere (5.7) up to the chains for your first pitch, then diagonal up right for an easy, short second pitch to the belay below the ceiling, and then finish on Shockley's, you've done one of the very best moderate climbs at the Gunks, regardless of grade.

Madame G's

Madame G's is, in my opinion, the best overall 5.6 at the Gunks. The first pitch is easy (5.4) and short; it really isn't the attraction, and if you're up to leading 5.8, the first pitch of Columbia just to the left is a wonderful way to get up to the ledge where the real business of Madame G's starts. And once the business starts, you'll find you're in for a real treat. Pitches two and three are both relentlessly steep, with great holds. I like to combine these two pitches and ignore the hanging belay in the middle, but beware of drag on this wandering route. The pumpiness increases as you get towards the top and you do not want to have to struggle to pull up your rope as you get close to the anchors. So long as you watch the drag, this route is a joy the whole way; I call it the best because it offers such consistent high-quality steep climbing.

THE OTHER BESTS

Maria

Beyond the three "bests" are many other highly rated 5.6 routes, and some that should be more highly rated than they are. Maria is a route that gets three stars in Dick Williams' latest guidebook, but I think the initial traverse pitch is underrated, and the third pitch is often ignored by climbers unaware of its true location or even of its existence. (The most recent guidebook to the Gunks places this third pitch in the wrong location, on a "mud slope" to the left of the real route.) If you do the whole route I think Maria rivals Madame G's for the title of best overall 5.6. It certainly outshines Madame G's in its variety.

The first pitch climbs the best part of Frog's Head (5.6-), going up a thin vertical crack that takes nuts like a dream. Pull the crux move past a bulge (great fun), then take the no-worries traverse to the right with great gear to the corner. Pitch 2 heads straight up the corner to the GT ledge. This pitch is rated 5.6+ and it is also consistent fun. There is no cruxy moment, but you may at times have to think a little and use opposition to move upward. Finally, from the top of pitch 2, move right until you are below a right-facing corner capped by a roof about 20 feet up. This roof problem, also rated 5.6+, is a wonderful sandbag. I don't think this is a pitch for the new 5.6 leader; it is short but not easy. There is a good crack for gear in the roof but it is thin and in my experience makes the small cams placed there hard to evaluate. You also move left out the roof and a fall might be a little ugly even if the gear is good. There is no denying, however, that the climbing here is excellent.

Put it all together and you get crack, bulge, traverse, corner, and roof climbing, all in one route, and all at 5.6. Pretty amazing.

Baby

Baby is another of my favorite 5.6s. it gets two stars from Williams but I would argue for three. It has two excellent pitches, the first with a short off-width that seems to freak people out, and the second ascending a nice corner to a cool 5.6 roof. With regard to the off-width: I don't intend to help you climb it. There are several different ways to solve it. But I will give you one bit of advice. Bring a big cam. A #5 Camalot is good; I know this from experience. A #6 would probably be even better. With a big cam you can protect the off-width a few crucial feet higher than you could with a #3 Camalot. And then you'll be set.

Moonlight

Moonlight gets only one star from Williams. I would argue for at least two. It is another great climb, with a mental crux that in my opinion requires a much bigger gut check than the move on High E. Pitch one is a pleasant, long climb up a prominent corner to the GT Ledge. Pitch two climbs an easy ramp-like feature until you find yourself in a corner with a roof over your head. To escape from the corner, you must commit to the overhanging left wall, on tiny feet, and pull yourself around to the left, all the while hoping you'll find some holds over there once you escape the roof around the outside corner and onto the main wall. Oh, and you have to make this move with just a piton for pro. When I did it, I also managed to work a shallow nut into a seam, but I wasn't fooling myself; the nut was junk.

Once you commit to heading around the corner and you get a good stance, the pitch isn't over. There's still good climbing up a crack to the finish. A very exciting pitch for the grade.

GREAT 5.6 PITCHES IN HARDER CLIMBS

Bloody Mary

This climb has a great face-climbing first pitch that used to be rated 5.6. (Williams now rates it 5.7.) But the second pitch is still considered 5.6 and there is no other 5.6 like it. It involves climbing up to the left end of an overhang and traversing about 10 feet in a VERY overhanging position to the right, until it is possible to head upward on good holds. Then it's an easy romp to the GT Ledge. This pitch is one of the few that is easier for short people. It is strenuous, but the holds and pro are great. Skip pitch 3, it stinks.

Bold-ville

I would guess that most people do the excellent 5.8 first pitch of Bold-ville and then set up the chain anchor above all the harder Seasons climbs, skipping the fun second pitch of Bold-ville. This is a shame. Somewhat similarly to Bloody Mary, the 5.6 second pitch of Bold-ville involves a steep hand traverse around a corner, this time in the opposite direction, to the left. The horizontal crack/shelf you follow provides good hands and pro the whole way.

Directissima

Another way to get to the GT ledge on the High E Buttress, Directissima is a climb of great variety and another good candidate for best moderate climb in the Gunks. Partially this is because of the fun 5.8 crack on pitch one and the scary, pumpy 5.9 traverse on pitch two, but mostly it is because of the unique beauty of the 5.6 third pitch, which follows the point of the arete all the way to the GT Ledge. The pitch starts out steep, but as you climb the angle eases off and soon you are free to just take in the surroundings from your perch at the tip of a triangle sticking out from the main cliff of the Trapps, with terrific views in both directions. And once you reach the GT Ledge you get to finish it off with the crux pitch of High E.

Basking Ridge

This climb is listed in the most recent Williams guide to the Nears as a link-up of two old classic climbs, Baskerville Terrace and Yellow Ridge. The first pitch, which is the first pitch of Baskerville Terrace, is a great, pretty stiff 5.7. The 5.6 second pitch goes to the right on a ledge about 10 feet below a pair of pitons that make up an optional belay station on Baskerville Terrace. Follow this ledge to the right into a left-facing corner, and then a perfect, rising hand- and foot-rail will take you to the right to the outside corner and around to a stance. This rising traverse takes good gear and features great exposure, and when you're at the stance around the outside corner you just head straight up through the awesome 5.6 roofs on the final pitch of Yellow Ridge. A great and unique 5.6 pitch in the Nears, and one of my favorites in the Gunks.

Can you tell me why?

Why aren't we skiing?




Over the years I've spread my kind of love over a few climbing forums. Enough so that I've been booted off at least one. Not that I give a chit because I don't It is simply entertainmentfor me.



Threeof the funniest exchanges I've had (to me anyway) have been with in retrospect, obviously very young climbers. No matter how good technically they might be or thought they were during the exchanges I was laughing at them and poking fun at their expense. Yes, I know I can be aprick. No need to restate the obvious in a comment.



In no particular order:



"Me Mum bought this fine jacket for me..best insulated jacket ever made"...of course he'd never used or owned any other jacket at the time. BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPP! Last I checked he is still a little pissy about the exchange. They simply don't know what they don't know



"Climb can't safely be done without several screws and half a dozen pickets" BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBEP! My answer? "Most anyone could solo that one in decent conditions. And I have never ever placed a picket. Mind you it doesn't mean I haven't wanted to just never had one :)"Original climber sacked up and soloed the same moderate climb a few seasons later. Same thing most of us had been doing for decades now with minimal gear.



"I've skied for years" a most recently famous alpinist tells us in a focus group on new gear. BBBBBBBEEEEEEPPPP! Mind you the "kid" is just 21, no formal education past high school and his experience skiing in the last 15 years (he started at 5) is hard to relate to an uncaring audience of 50+ year old engineers who have been skiing them selves since they were 5 or younger and designing or working in the ski industry since they were 18 years old. Hard not to roll your eyes when I hear I've been skiing my whole life....when the speaker is 17 years old and the topic technical in nature.



"youth is wasted on the young" J.B. Shaw had it right.. :)



Not that I am a rocket scientist myself or know much about anything in particular. My BS meter has gotten better over the years how ever. "Nice ski, but ya the mount point is FUBARED dude."

"Someone might ought to look at that more closely." That stainless and plastic interface? Take body weight? Maybe. Hammer on it? Not likely. Trim the weight by making it smaller? OK. But make it so small it now breaks in the same application? Makes no sense to me.









So, why aren't we skiing?



I've done Rainer by a dozen routes in all seasons, many, many timesand until recently only taken skis on the mountain a couple of times.



Now I have to ask why are you NOT taking skis? You can guess at my age. But in any race I am not going to be in the front of the pack. On the right day if you break down the age groups into 5 year splits I can generally hold my own with what ever amateur shows up. As serious athlete will generally, and easilybury me. I'm lazy and WEAK...there I admit it :)



So if I am doing moderate climbs and skis like Rainier and I am able to catch you and eventually passing you on my light weight gear you might want to rethink your own gear choices. When I can bury you on the up and then drop you on the down in light weight gear it is either time to bury your head in shame or pull out the check book, 'cuz you obviously SUCK!



If you climb and read a winter climbing blog and don't ski? YOU really, really SUCK!



All the spare excuses have been used and you have been found sadly, wanting. If it is a fitness issue, change your diet and get a dog to run with. They are likely the only one that will have you anyway.



I have one myself :) His name is Marley and helikes torun, really likes to go on bike rides and anything related toskiing, plus the occasional cinnamon roll or pistachio.









Marley


No one is really as good as they might think they are or as smart. We generally judge each other much harder than we judge ourselves. Never hurts to brush a little sand off your you friends ass instead of grinding it in. You never know when you might need the same favor.



But I am still going to chuckle under my breath when I skin past you or ski by. Simply because I know I'm the one having more fun...and I'm just the oldprick willing to admit it ;) PS...Marley would be laughing as well he's just a much nicier guy when he sees a human...sucking @ the fun!

Yorktown From My Window

While in Yorktown, we headed out to find Pop's. My friend Julie used to live in this area and she recommended it. It was closed when we got there, so we ate at Bill's Seafood House across the street instead since she recommended that too. It was great food at a great price! The waitress was incredible and the hush puppies were the best we've ever had.



Then we drove around Yorktown for a bit just to see what is here.

Gunks Routes: Alley Oop (5.7) & Dry Heaves (5.8)

(Photo: L following me up Alley Oop, pitch one. She's about to exit the roof. The Dry Heaves finish is at the next little alcove down to the left.)



Alley Oop (5.7) and Dry Heaves (5.8) sit right next to each other in the Trapps, starting from atop the same boulder pile, to the right of Balrog/Bullfrog and to the left of Cakewalk.



I have only climbed the first pitch of each. All the climbs in this area of the cliff feature easy, lackluster second pitches. Alley Oop and Dry Heaves both share a bolted anchor atop the first pitch, making it easy to quickly run up the first pitch of both climbs. You could also easily toprope Dry Heaves after leading Alley Oop.



Each climb features a low crux, then some mellower climbing to an excitingroof escape.



Alley Oop has a reputation as a climb with a difficult, problematic start. Maybe I was just feeling good when I climbed it the other day, but I thought the start featured simple, good face climbing. Usually, when I hear that a Gunks climb has a bouldery start, it means to me that the moves down low will be two grades harder than the rating suggests they should be, and that there will be inadequate pro until the early challenge is over and done with. Think of climbs like Laurel or Drunkard's Delight and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. But Alley Oop? Not so! The moves are all there, and there's seemingly good pro. Dick Williams says "yellow Alien helpful" to protect the starting move, and when I got to the first horizontal, I thought he must be crazy. The crack seemed too shallow to accept a cam. But then lo and behold, right in front of my face, there was a spot where the yellow Alien fit like a glove. I yanked on the sucker pretty hard, and of course there's a limit to what that kind of testing will tell you, but it appeared to me that it would hold a fall.



Once you place the yellow Alien (a yellow TCU or a #2 C3 might also work), it's another couple thin moves up and right to a stance with bomber gear. From there the pitch follows an obvious corner up and then left to an orange face. Climb past a couple hollow flakes straight up to the corner under the roof. It is not necessary to place gear behind these hollow flakes; look elsewhere for pro, there's plenty. Exit left out the roof, and you're at the bolts. The roof is awkward but not too difficult. It feels pretty airy when you're in the thick of it.



Dry Heaves is a definite step up in difficulty and commitment. The route starts up a nice right-facing corner just to the left of Alley Oop. the corner leads to an overhang about 15 feet off the ground. This overhang goes out right for about eight or nine feet and then turns upward, forming a big flake against the main wall. The strenuous crux involves the underclinging traverse out this overhang to the outside corner of the flake.



There's great gear and a good stance in the corner before the crux sequence. I spent a lot of time standing and fretting in that corner. Again Williams advises that the yellow Alien will be "helpful." For some reason I never even tried to place it on this pitch. I think I know where Dick wants you to put it. About halfway out the traverse the crack under the overhang (which to that point is too small even for fingertips) suddenly widens enough to fit the cam. But there is a much wider opening a couple feet further right, almost at the end of the traverse, and I thought I could reach over there instead and slam in my big #4 Camalot. When I climbed it, I tiptoed out two or three times before I decided to go for it and place my #4. I grabbed the undercling hold, had my feet in place, and edged to the right as I reeeeeached over with the big cam in my hand... but then I dropped the freakin' thing.



I'm lucky I didn't bean my partner L in the head with it.



So then I quickly retreated to the stance, shook it all out again, and recommitted to the sequence. I had to go right away or I was never going to do it. This time I forgot all about the yellow Alien and motored through the strenuous, underclinging crux until I turned the corner of the flake. Then I slammed in a red #1 Camalot and exhaled.



My recommendation to you, dear reader, is that you don't do as I did. If I'd blown it at thecrux I would have had a long swing into the corner. You should place the yellow Alien or its equivalent halfway out the traverse. You can probably get it in before you commit to the undercling and step off the good footholds. It will greatly lessen the pendulum swing backward if you blow the next move.



At the end of the traverse you can fit anything from a #1 through a #4 Camalot. Then it's another couple thin moves up the flake to easier climbing into the final roof problem, which is just as entertaining as the final problem on Alley Oop.



It's a really nice pitch and in my opinion kind of stout for 5.8. I imagine it's good preparation for Inverted Layback (5.9) in the Nears, a climb I've really been wanting to try. Now that I've done Dry Heaves I think I might be ready.

Grab Your Ice Axe and Head for the Hills!

All right folks, this is it! You can ski 7,500 feet of vertical this weekend at Paradise!

First the hype.

Rarely during the winter does the weather turn so nice for so long! I made a run from just above Ingraham Flats (11,500') to Longmire (2,700'), and that's almost 9,000 feet in one run. As you'll read later in this post, I wouldn't particularly recommend skiing the lower 1,500 feet, but 7,500' isn't too bad, is it? With this intense temperature inversion in effect, it may be warmer at 5,500' than at 2,700'. In fact, at Camp Muir on Thursday morning, the temperature was 46 degrees! I could almost smell this coming weekend's barbeques in the Paradise lot, the sun tan oil, and the kids having a great time in the newly groomed snowplay area.


Now the beta.



The snow is setting up and developing into good corn. On the way up from Paradise this morning for a patrol to Camp Muir, the snow was set up enough to walk on with just boots (around 10:00 a.m.). The skinning was great, until I got to just below Pan Point. It was set up enough that it took two tries to get up a particular pitch I was trying to ascend. If you're going up early, I'd recommend a pair of crampons and an ice axe.


Just about everything was skiable in the Paradise area today. The snow is nice and smooth, but BEWARE! This afternoon's heat was bringing down small wet loose avalanches in steeper gulleys. Read the latest avalanche report from the NWAC: http://www.nwac.us/


Edith Creek Basin looked awesome and smooth. Mazama Ridge really looked nice. Once through the gauntlet at Pan Point, the rest was just a beautiful skin up to Camp Muir! The ski penetration eventually got to around 1-2 inches. That's nothing compared to slogging up in waist deep snow.


Once up to around 9,000 feet, the snowfield becomes badly pocked with sastrugi, and we're talking BIG sastrugi features. Not fun to ski through. If you're up on the Muir Snowfield, remember, it's always a good idea to have the "bearing sheet" for the compass bearing, if the weather should turn bad.


Camp Muir is open and ready for business. The toilets are shoveled out. The public shelter is accessible. Would someone please shovel the snow out that's drifted inside? Be aware that I tested the public radio, and it seems to be dead. I shoveled snow off of the solar panels on the roof. This may solve the problem. Bring a Verizon cell phone just in case of an emergency. Remember you need a backcountry permit (free) if you are just staying at Camp Muir and not going above.


I made it up to Ingraham Flats in a turtleneck T-shirt. Now that's rare for January! I was able to skin right up to the top of Cathedral Gap, but on the traverse past the Gap, just to be safe, I took the skis off and put the crampons on. But I could've walked with my crampons all the way from Paradise. Once I was back out on the glacier, the skis went back on and I was able to skin up to about 11,500' before it was time to turn around. The snow was nice styrofoam. If you're interested in heading up above Camp Muir, remember you need a climbing permit and a climbing pass whether your purposes are just skiing or climbing.


The ski down was great through Cathedral Gap. In 10 minutes I was back at Camp Muir. I left Muir at about 3:00 p.m. I skied through this terrible sastrugi that I described above, but then I dove off down the Nisqually Glacier. It goes! For those of you interested in skiing down the glacier, remember to bring along a friend and some extrication gear. The snow was getting soft in the afternoon making crevasse falls more likely. Since you're on a glacier, technically you need a climbing permit and a climbing pass.


I hit it at about 3:30, when it was a little on the soft side. Who knows how things will be this weekend, but I would try to stick it a little earlier. The slopes above on the Nisqually Cliffs were getting some warm sun. Be weary of avalanches coming down, and especially rockfall! Beware of a lot of little rocks and pebbles in the snow.


Once down on the flat part of the Nisqually (around 6,400 feet), I was surprised at how fast I was able to cruise. I crossed over to the west side of the glacier, and skied down the nose of the glacier to the terminus. It was very soft, a little too soft. I had my first biff. From there it was a cruise to the bridge. Bring a friend with another car for the ride back up to Paradise!


I continued skiing the Nisqually River bed down to Cougar Rock Campground where I caught the Wonderland Trail for the rest of the push to Longmire. All in all, I skied just about 9,000 feet of vert. But I wouldn't recommend this last bit from the bridge on down. With a few creek crossings and some wet feet, it was a bit of a jungle boogie.


In a nutshell, the skiing, the climbing, the sledding and/or just suntanning at Paradise looks great this weekend and if you're from Washington, you'll know that we need to take advantage of this!

On Beginners Helping Beginners and the Paradox of Expertise

[image via Thomas Hawk]

It's been over two years now since I began cycling as an adult and writing this blog, and I still think of myself as a novice: Two years isn't much. Looking at some of the other female-authored cycling blogs that appeared around the same time as mine,I see a similar pattern: The authors start the blog not to give advice, but to share their experiences as eager, clueless beginners. And over time they become more knowledgeable - helping their readers along the way just as much as their readers help them.



This approach tends to evoke polarised reactions. On the one hand, I've noticed that beginners - and particularly female readers who are just getting into cycling - respond to blogs written by other beginners more than they do to blogs written by experts. On the other hand, there is a great deal of scorn aimed at such blogs in some internet circles - mainly on male-dominated cycling forums. The other day I received a link to a venomous thread where the forum members basically take turns quoting snippets from my posts and mocking my writing. It might have upset me, if I hadn't witnessed a near-identical thread attacking another woman's blog on a different cycling forum several months earlier.The bashing we get from these guys is predictable: We are silly, we are consumerist, we know nothing about cycling yet presume to advise others, and our writing is annoying. Whether they have a point is not for me to judge, and it's useless to defend myself against grown men who get off on mocking other human beings. But I'd like to explore the question of why a beginner's writing about cycling can be more compelling to some audiences than that of an expert.



[image via acme59]

Beginners are enthusiastic.

When we are in the process of learning about something new that excites us, we tend to be more interested in that thing than once we already know everything there is to know about it. The eagerness to learn is what drives us to research and experiment, and then to share our discoveries with others. Once the learning is done, that eagerness subsides and we become less motivated to discuss the topic. We become jaded, we know it all. Why bother write about something that is old news to us? Enthusiasm is contagious, and so is jadedness. That is why a beginner's blog - that gushes about things that seem boring or even silly to experts - is more engaging for those who are trying to learn about the same topic.



[image via simplybike]

Beginners offer documentation.

Blogs written by novices are a bit like note-taking sessions made public. When was the last time you felt compelled to take notes on a process you already knew by heart? There is no motivation for it. Doing things like taking pictures of yourself on your bicycle and describing short rides in elaborate detail seems ridiculous to someone who has done it all thousands of times. But to those for whom cycling is a learning process, documentation is helpful. Novice readers seek out blogs that provide detailed documentation, and those blogs are usually written by other novices, precisely because experts wouldn't bother.



[image via mtwash125]

Beginners are more relatable to other beginners.

Today's post from Dottie on Let's Go Ride a Bike provides some great insight into this one. Dottie describes a commute to work that to her was "just perfect," yet to a novice cyclist was an absolute nightmare. It was a funny discrepancy, but also a telling one. After several years of cycling for transportation, we no longer even notice things like exhaust fumes, vehicles blocking the bike lane, car doors suddenly swinging open into our path, and cars cutting us off. Our methods of dealing with these problems become so automatised that we take them in stride: Overall, it is still a great commute, because nothing unusuallyhorrible has happened. But to beginners who are just mustering up the courage to cycle for transportation, other cyclists are no longer relatable once they reach that level of comfort. And this goes for everything - from transportation cycling, to roadcycling skills, to understanding frame geometry, to being able to work on our own bikes. Little by little, we begin to take stuff for granted and stop bothering to explain it, losing the readers who find our very ineptitude relatable. Paradoxically, while experts know more, they also come across as less approachable and they often write about things in a way that is difficult for non-experts to understand.



[image via Bart Omeu]

Beginners are unselfconscious.

As we gain knowledge in any given topic, there is often a degree of self-cosnciousness and competitiveness that sets in. We want to show that we are not "newbies" anymore and so we become more careful about what we write and how we present ourselves - lest the "cool people" make fun of us. But the nice thing about blogs that haven't reached that stage yet is their sincerity. They don't even know what the right vs the wrong thing to say is, so they express what they actually think.



Despite my two years of writingLovely Bicycle, I feel that I have somehow managed to remain in that state. I am so remarkably uncool as far as "cycling culture" goes, that I cannot even fathom the full extent of my uncoolness. That's one of the things that keeps me going and allows me to continue writing this blog, so as far as I'm concerned it's for the best.I enjoy novice cycling blogs of all types. And I hope that beginners continue to feel motivated to document their growing love of bicycles in their unique, authentic voices without worrying about coming across as silly. Beginners helping other beginners can be of greater value than expert knowledge.

Danny Boy

When we moved to the US in the early '90s, I promptly started junior high school in a small New England town. The first thing I remember about walking into the classroom, was the shock of green cardboard shamrocks strung up all over the walls and a large banner declaring "Erin Go Bragh." (That's not how you spell it, a friend from Cork would later wrinkle her nose. But never mind.) Our teacher was fiercely Irish, as were at least half of the students. Second or third generation mainly, and, truth be told, most of them ethnically mixed. But Irish identities had a way of dominating in those days - when the economic boom had not yet hit the Emerald Isle, when South Boston still had romantic notoriety, and when House of Pain's Jump Around played several times a day on MTV.Most chose to express this identity through visual iconology: shamrocks, leprechauns, bright kelly green, friendship rings, and abundant use of faux-celtic fonts. But soon fate brought the opportunity to also express it musically.



In those days, our school had a rather famousa cappellachoir, led by our passionate and popular music teacher, Mr. McKenna. It wasn't just anyone who could join this elite group. There were limited spots. The annual tryouts involved weeks of preparation from hopefuls and bitter tears from those who did not make it. But those of us who made it... my goodness, we felt special. In the mornings, we went to choir practice instead of home room.We wore beautiful uniforms.We stood side by side, in a tight formation on metal risers. Labeled a strong Soprano, I still remember my place: 3rd row, 5th from the right. Our choir recorded albums. Our choir preformed in competitions and won. Once a year we even travelled to compete in the national finals, inevitably returning with medals.



We were one of the best, Mr. McKenna would tell us, again and again, beaming at our fresh-scrubbed teenage faces, our teary eyes and our chapped lips from hours of singing. And we were one of the best because we worked at it. Because we rehearsed until each piece was perfect. And if it wasn't perfect (his face would turn serious now, almost stormy), we did not perform it. Not at a local Christmas concert, and certainly not at competition. Was that understood by each and every one of us? It was.



The national finals happened in May. Competing choirs would select their performance pieces in September, then spend the entire school year rehearsing them. The year I entered the 8th grade, Mr. McKenna gathered us to announce the competition selection with an air of festivity: For our main piece, we would be singing Danny Boy. As he distributed the sheet music, it was clear that the piece was very, very dear to him.



With tears in his eyes, Mr. McKenna talked about Ireland. How beautiful it was and how special his visit there with his wife and children had been - a place where his great grandfather had once lived and farmed.Later, as we struggled with the song, he talked about visualising the glens and imagining Danny Boy's plight. We tried our best, although most of us did not know what glens were exactly.



It was a beautiful, but complicated piece. Or maybe the arrangement Mr. McKenna had chosen was complicated, his judgment clouded by a reverence for the song's Irishness. Overly nuanced harmonies, notes held too long for our young lungs, sharp transitions from low notes to high. We were a good choir, but we were amateurs. We were a motivated bunch of kids, but we only had so much energy to give, after our classes and homework and turbulent teenage love-lives.



In fairness, we were doing fine with Danny Boy. We were getting there. But for Mr. McKenna's liking, we were not getting there fast enough. So he panicked, and he pushed us. With passionate pep talks and hours of extra rehearsals, he pushed and he pushed. He pushed until the melody of Danny Boy began to sound like nails against a chalkboard to our ears. He pushed until the lyrics lost all meaning and each repetition felt like a seizure-induced loop. He pushed until, instead of inspiring a breakthrough, Mr. McKenna broke our spirits.



Having come down with the flu, I did not join the choir in that year's finals. I did not witness the mass hysteria and weeping after, for the first time in its 12 year history, our choir failed to earn a medal at the competition. I only saw my peers' dejected faces when they returned home empty handed. I only saw the careless wrinkles in their uniforms at our next local performance and the way they slouched on the risers, with Mr. McKenna not bothering to chide us for either transgression.



We never talked about it. But deep down we all connected our choir's fall from grace with this attempt at a perfect rendition of Danny Boy. The piece was simply too personal, too precious for Mr. McKenna; he gave in to the rawness of his emotions and lost perspective. The following year, when I was already in high school, we heard that Mr. McKenna stepped down as music teacher and moved away. We were told he had health problems, and there were whispers of a nervous breakdown. It was not until years later that we learned he divorced his wife of 30 years and married one of his former students (by then a high school graduate, aged 19), which prompted parents to call for his resignation.



I have not thought about any of this in years. But I think about it now, in the mornings, as I lock up my bike in the town center of Limavady, Northern Ireland. There is a contemporary sculpture next to the cafe where I like to work. It is vaguely glen-shaped, in an abstract sort of way, and engraved with the lyrics to Danny Boy. Across the street is the colourful Corner Bar, its walls painted with murals containing more references to the song. And a helpful inscription explains the connection: "It was in Limavady that the famous melody 'Danny Boy' was noted down by Jane Ross from a tune played by a blind street fiddler named Jimmy McCurry." The original name of the melody was actually Londonderry Air, written byEnglishman Frederic Weatherly. But never mind. It's been 20 years since I sang Danny Boy and I still remember the lyrics.

Riding

I decided to ride Sonny today and Lee took a couple of photos. Wish I felt like riding more often. In this photo we are at the back of our property. Those are the Sandia Mountains behind be.

Cancer, Climbing and Endurance Sports.

Bald as a cue ball but thrilled @ my first day out in the mtns last spring






Cancer is a discussion I would have avoided like the plague a year ago. Even with family members dying from it I was intentionally in denial when the subject came up. Just didn't want to go there for any reason.



When I was diagnosed the two things that scared me the most were...how I was going to get through the treatment and how I would rebuild after the treatment. Yep, admittedly, it became all about me from day one.



From day one my Doctors told me that I would loose 25% of my body mass in 7 weeks. Once I got my head around that number and figured out just what it would mean I was worried. And they were spot on at the end result. The current crop of oncologists know how to kill cancer. Keeping the patient alive while still being able to enjoy life after the "CURE" is the real issue after the fact is my thought, then and now. That at least from my admittedly limited experience. They (the Docs) have little clue on how to deal with the aftermath. On the recovery end of things I am healthy now in spite of my Oncology staff not because of them.



I am alive today, but without treatment, last year's prognosis was I would be dead by now. I had asked....back in Sept of '11.



As I always say...what works for me may not work for you.



So I am using this forum and the traffic generated here to make Internet searches easier for those like myself that were/are looking for a info about treatment and the aftermath experience of "Cancer, Climbing and Endurance Sports." Not that I am an expert on any of that. But *ANY* info is hard to find. Good info from those that have BTDT even harder if my experience is any example.



I know several guys with a wealth of experience in training all sorts of athletes, endurance athletes in particular. Some with world wide reputations doing so. To my surprise none of them had any worth while experience with cancer or cancer patients. Every CANCER is different as is every treatment protocol. So it is no wonder they came up empty handed.



There are several million women who have benefited from the Danskin Series.



http://www.xxtramile.com/charitable.html



More yet from Livestrong both men and women.



http://www.livestrong.org/Get-Help



I looked at both. And my wife and I spent hours on the Internet looking for useful info and talking with sources that many sent me too. (Thanks Brian ;-) The biggest help by far? My nursing staff. Makesure you ask yours the questions that are nagging you.



This week as I was doing my 2nd PET scan another climber and cancer survivor (Rusty) sent me an email. Both of those events made me rethink writing more onhttp://enhancenotdefine.blogspot.com/



http://enhancenotdefine.blogspot.com/




That blog is now an open forum, anyone can post or ask questions. There are no filters.



It is a bit of a mess at the moment but I will start adding climbing and endurance sport related comments as I have time. Guest blogs from those that have BTDT are welcome! I am hoping it will become a good resource so no one has to go through the same dark tunnel I did.

The Bikes of D2R2

"This is just... ridiculous," I finally managed to say, looking around in a daze. Laughter. "Didn't you know this is the biggest bike-show ever?" No, I did not!



And I thought I was well-informed about the D2R2 before finally taking part this year. It is a "dirt road randonee" with lots of climbing. It offers glorious views of rural Massachusetts and Vermont. And cyclists travel from all over the Northeast to ride it. But knowing this did not prepare me for the bike festival that unfolded before my eyes. I had brought my camera for the scenery, but before the ride even began I was running around photographing bicycles.





So what bike does one bring to a 70-180 km ride that is infamously hilly and takes place mostly off-road? Wide tires, responsive handling and low gears were the general consensus. Getting more specific, most of the bikes present fit into several distinct categories.





To my amazement, classic steel bikes with wide tires, front racks and French-style handlebar bags were extremely popular. Not that I am not pleased to see that; I am just genuinely surprised that so many of them even exist on the East Coast. 650B wheels were rampant, as were the 42mm Grand Bois Hetre tires.





There were quite a few low trail bicycles, both custom and production, including those by Boulder, Rawland, Weigle and Matchak Cycles.








There were also many vintage refurbishments and 650B conversions - some frames with aftermarket braze-ons, canti bosses and paint jobs, and others unaltered.






Current produciton road-to-trail bikes with standard front-end geometry were also well represented - both with 650B and 700C wheels - in particular the early Rivendell models.





And of course there were Bridgestones.








While mass produced bikes in this categorywere present as well, it seemed to me that the custom, small-batch production, and vintage bikes outnumbered them.Many local custom builders were represented, including Circle A, ANT, Sketchy, IgleheartandWojcik.





Whether modern or classic in style, handlebar bags seemed to be more popular than saddle bags, regardless of a bike's front-end geometry. I am guessing this is because a handlebar bag makes it easier to retrieve items without stopping, while providing a built-in cue-sheet holder.





In equal measure to the fat tire classics group, the other huge category were cyclocross bikes. Their performance-oriented geometry, relatively light weight and clearance for wide tires make them good candidates for riding dirt roads.





Most of the manufacturers represented were local builders: Geekhouse, Independent Fabrications, Seven, Firefly, Tomii, Spooky.






I have never seen so much titanium at one event before, although steel and carbon fiber were also popular.





Some West Coast names made an appearance as well, including Rock Lobster and Vanilla.






The cross bikes were generally outfitted fairly minimally, with only a small bag on the handlebars or behind the saddle. There were some groups and teams present who treated the event semi-competitively and tried to make their bikes as unencumbered with extra weight as possible.






Some even went so far in this regard, as to leave the frames unpainted!





While not as popular as the road-to-trail roadbikes and cross bikes, mountain bikes were a distinct presence. Not the fastest on climbs, and the limited handle bar positions could get tough on the longer routes, but the mountain bikes were great on descents. Terrain was not an issue with their enormous knobby tires.






In the opposite camp were those cyclists who feel quite comfortable riding dirt and gravel on standard roadbikes, fitted with the widest tires the frames and fork clearances would allow - usually 28mm. Some believe there is some speed advantage for those who can manage this. But the drawback is that narrower tires tend to get more flats off road, potentially canceling out any lead time. Of those cyclists I spoke to who'd gotten flats (sometimes multiples) during the ride, most were riding tires 32mm or narrower.





Finally, there was a handful of upright town-and-country types of bikes, including comfort bikes, step-throughs and mixtes. All had wide tires and low gearing and overall their riders looked comfy and happy. While I saw a few walking up hills at several points, this could have been avoided with lower gearing. With the right features, it is quite possible to ride an upright bike comfortably on this type of ride, as long as there is no expectation of keeping up with those on more aggressive machines.






There were a few cyclists hauling trailers with children and pets, which was fun to see, not to mention impressive. Wish I could have captured them in motion.






But I was surprised tandems were not popular. I spotted only two: a Seven and a Burley.






There are many choices for bikes out there for those interested in hilly off-road rides. While the D2R2 seemed to be dominated by custom, vintage, refurbished and otherwise unusual bikes, there are plenty of production models that can meet the requirements as well. Based on my own experience with this ride, I would say aim for wide tires, low gears, and handling that is as responsive as possible without exceeding your comfort zone.




The D2R2 was possibly my favourite ride ever and I will write about it soon. Meanwhile, the full set of bike pictures can be found here.

It is a dead horse... (more on stainless crampons)

but do you really want to be riding it?



OK, this got my attention. In less than 10 days counting back from todayI got reports of 3 pairs of bent, broken or crackedBlack Diamond Stainlesscrampons.



Call me cynical but it was exactly this time last year that the same thing happened...actually within days of each other one year apart. Over a dozen cracked or broken pairs of Black Diamond stainless crampons poppedup over the last year. But 3 in a row, in mid Feb ! Again?!



edit for an update: Same scenario again in Feb. of . More reported BD stainless failures.

It is mid season for ice climbing world wide. Check your crampons. If you are on stainless, check them twice!






This one bent while climbing ice. It isn't trick photography. The front point simply straightened out under body weight,




"The one front point flattened out when he was 5' off the deck. He fellto snow."






cracked using a rigid soled boot









Crack here is circled in red.



And these are crampons I really liked initially, BD's Sabertooth and Serac. Crampons I climbed and soloed in. And the most recent faulty crampons are all the reinforced 2nd gen. versions.



I could care less about Black Diamond. They made it clearlast winter that they have littleconcernabout yoursafety while using thisproduct. The sales samples and prototypes excuses are really long in tooth a full year later. These cracks and failures are all in the same place. Make damn sure you inspect yours closely prior to EVERY use. Thefront point collapsing under body weight is a new one for me.



Check your gear, be attentive and pay ATTENTION if you are still climbingin any of the BD stainless horizontal front pointcrampons. When thesedo come apart, make no mistake, it is a catastrophic failure. Falling off an ice climb because of gear failure can very easily get you dead.



So one more time...



Since Black Diamond won't tell you this, I will.



You all be careful out there on Black Diamond stainless 'pons!Friends don't let their friends climb on stainless horizontals.



More here if you want the enterainment:

http://rafalandronowski.wordpress.com//02/15/broke-my-crampons/



http://www.gravsports-ice.com/icethreads/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=8972&page=all



http://coldthistle.blogspot.com//02/soft-shoe-shuffle.html



http://cascadeclimbers.com/forum/ubbthreads.php/topics/1004766/Broke_my_crampons



http://coldthistle.blogspot.com//08/crampon-durability-stainless-or.html

Clermont FL to Summerton SC

Today was Aric's first official travel day. I think I was more excited than he was about that. We drove from Clermont to Summerton, South Carolina. We are staying at a very nice ROD park. Since we had a somewhat long driving day, we ate dinner at Cracker Barrel.

It is so nice to be back on the road again!

My Favorite Kind of Day

Since we spent all summer in Florida, and Florida in the summer is a dreadful experience temperature and humidity-wise, we are really enjoying the cooler days. We went out to Sixteen Hands and spent the day there alone because everyone else went to an event. It was just a lazy kind of a day.











The horses are starting to really know Nathan now. They greet him and then go and do their thing. Well, except Patriot who believes "we" are his thing.



Gypsy girl shows us how she multi-tasks by drinking and bathing at the same time.



And Chevy bravely walks over to me, rather than running away from me.



It was a good day! Hoping for more of them over the next few months!



Living the life in FL!