Blueberries

the berries that are blue, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Across the country, farmers' markets are in full swing. These berries were a local market and looked incredibly good. Raspberries at the market were cheap, as well as tomatoes and pretty much all the vegetables. My best find was Fresno chile peppers, which are used in Indonesian cooking - score!

Rock Holes

There are holes and cracks all through all of the big rocks found in the Jemez. For years I have been looking in all that I could see into or get to hoping against hope to find a sack of gold or some other treasure hiden there many years before by an outlaw, or Spanish conquestador, or American Native or even an inquestive squirrel that might have picked up a lost arrowhead, or piece of jewelery. So far I have only found a few rotten pine nuts. I really don't expect to find anything but who knows. Several of the rocks we explored on this trimp had lots of small holes, many of which we couldn't get up to where they were.

Lunch, Flowers, and a Happy Dance (not mine)

Thursday, June 2nd - - Today Carol and I had lunch with the You Go Genealogy Girls, Cheri and Ruby. We heard research stories and were told that if they were repeated we would be endangering our lives! LOL. It was great fun and they are great story tellers.



It was a bright sunshiny day and we took our time strolling through the Temple gardens on the way back to The Library. Of course, we couldn't resist stopping to take pictures of the marvelous flowers. Such variety. So colorful.





I have no idea what kind of flower this is...



Same variety as the above but a different color.



Gorgeous white Iris. So difficult to photograph.



A close-up of the white Iris.



Purple Iris.



And, a close-up shot.

Later that afternoon, Carol found something that made her do a little jig at the microfilm reader. To be honest, I can't remember exactly what it was... but as we were walking out to the parking lot later she was still “full of it” with the dancing and smiling. It's fun to watch others with their reactions to a good find, but I'd sure like to experience it myself!





Congratulations, Carol...

And may you have many more opportunities to dance your little jig!

Microburst

Wednesday's forecast predicted thunderstorms, and after a sunny humid day a rapid downpour descended on our neighbourhood in the afternoon. Later we learned that the next town over had experienced a microburst - an intense storm similar to a tornado, only with wind patterns in the opposite direction. Over 100 full grown trees were uprooted in the storm in the course of very little time. No one was hurt, but property was damaged.



The next morning I went on a ride and found the Minuteman Bikeway impassable, with huge toppled trees in close succession blocking the entire path. As municipal workers in neon vests surveyed the area, confused bicycle commuters wandered around looking for alternative routes without having to ride on the high-traffic main road which the Bikeway parallels.






The side streets were blocked. Municipal vehicles were gathering from all directions - those huge machines where you feed them pieces of tree and they mulch it up. Finally, I went on the main road and competed with a procession of buses in mid-day heat until my nerves had worn raw. Drivers were especially out of sorts that morning, behaving aggressively and honking at cyclists for simply being "in the way" - probably not realising that we had all been displaced from the adjacent bikeway and had nowhere else to be.



Riding under these conditions, I realised how spoiled I've gotten lately - forgetting how stressful cycling can be when drivers behave like this and there is no alternative route. I was getting honked at continuously for trying to take the lane. But as busses kept cutting me off and car doors swung open with abandon, taking the lane was the only safe option. Eventually a few of us formed a cluster: me, a woman in a yellow sundress on a cruiser, a teenager on a mountain bike, and an older man on a time trial bike. The cars went wild, but at least there was safety in numbers.






The pièce de résistance happened on my way home. I was already back in Cambridge and riding on a quiet MUP when around the bend a municipal carcomes charging at me head-on, taking up the entire width of the path. The guy slammed his brakes when he saw me and I slammed mine, feeling a huge surge of adrenaline. We stopped within inches of each other and I had one of those not-quite-but-almost crashes that I am so talented at. I kept the bike from hitting the ground, in the process contorting my body unnaturally and twisting my elbow. Ouch. But who cares about a little ouch; I am just glad he did not run me over. We had words, if you can call it that. Me: "You could have killed me!" He: "Sorry sweetheart, I didn't see you coming!"



I suppose the take-away lesson here is to stay off the roads after natural disasters? Easy enough for someone doing a training ride, but what about those who commute that way? I don't think the city even announced anywhere that the Minuteway Bikeway was impassable, whereas they certainly would have announced it had a major road become unavailable to drivers. Maybe when there are more of us, things will be different. I hope so.

Shenandoah National Park

After leaving the Hebron Lutheran Church in Madison, Virginia I drove south on U.S. 29 to Charlottesville then west on Interstate 64 to Waynesboro where I spent the night. The next day (Monday, October 26th) the Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park beckoned me. The first 20 miles were still quite pretty with brightly colored foliage but further north and in the higher elevations, the trees were nearly bare though there were patches of brilliant yellow here and there.

That notwithstanding, the next several days were spent traipsing through the forest (or perhaps I should say, huffing and puffing) on several trails. The weather was not very cooperative with heavy fog and intermittent rain on Tuesday. It gave me an opportunity to catch up on writing blog posts (but I've fallen behind again – can't believe it's been two weeks already).

I was staying in the Big Meadows Campground, not far from Hawksbill Peak (the highest peak within the park) and hiked to the summit on Wednesday. The rain had stopped during the night and the fog had lifted mid-morning. The trail was just 1.7 miles long with only a 500 foot elevation gain, but it sure felt longer and higher!

Wednesday afternoon, I made a short detour out of the park to Luray to try and track down a church where two of my ancestors served (more about that in a future post) then returned to the park and spent the night at Mathews Arm Campground. It was cloudy on Thursday morning and more rain was in the forecast. I took advantage of the offer made by my Aunt in Silver Spring, Maryland and spent the weekend at her place.

10/26 near Bacon Hollow Overlook

10/26 Moorman's River Overlook

10/28 Fog Rising at Fisher's Gap Overlook

10/28 from Hawksbill Summit

10/28 Crescent Rock Overlook

10/29 Gimlet Ridge Overlook

Not exactly of the "Ride 'em Cowboy" genre..

There were no "pony" pictures taken of us kids while growing up. We lived in the country so the fellows that went around to the "big city" with their ponies, didn't come our way. Although, there is one of my Uncle Bill taken about 1940 (give or take a couple of years), and I found one of two of my cousins taken about 15 years later that looked like it was the same horse! But then, last week I was scanning the last box of my Dad's pictures and discovered this…

I absolutely fell in love with this picture - it is a photo postcard and because it only filled up 2/3 of the front of the card I've cropped out the borders and enlarged it a bit to show the details. There is so much going on - the colt in front, the chickens scurrying around the horses hoofs, the barefoot girl atop the horse, and the man holding the reins. It's static, yet dynamic, at the same time!

The postcard was sent to Amanda Wiseman, Warsaw Ind RR#1 and postmarked at 6 PM on Jul 23. The city is not legible and the year is missing. The one-cent stamp has "909" stamped in ink, perhaps it is the year 1909? Eileen Hover, the little girl on the horse, was born April 21, 1904.

My Dad wrote at the top of the postcard "Uncle Hank Hover & Allein" and on the next line "Bessie, Edie, & Charlie Hovers father"

The message, written by Lue Hover, says "Dear Sister will Write a few lines to let you know we are all well it is raining to day Smith is up stairs a sleep Will write more soon if you answer the letter I did write"

Hank Hover's full name was William Henry Hover. He was the fifth of six children born to of George and Rachel (Van Curen) Hover. George passed away in 1855, just three years after Hank was born. In 1859, Rachel married William Alexander. Their first child was Amanda Alexander who married Samuel Wiseman - they are my great grandparents.

I'm not sure exactly where Hank Hover and his family lived but it couldn't have been too far from the farm of Amanda and Sam Wiseman, perhaps a few miles - they both lived in Tippecanoe Township, Kosciusko County, Indiana.

Last year I posted a photo of the Hover children, Bessie, Edith and Charlie. They were Hank's children from his first marriage with Elizabeth Biltz. Eileen Hover was Hank's daughter from his second marriage to Lula Crawford, the writer of the postcard.

This post was written for and contributed to the 78th edition of the Carnival of Genealogy :: Ride Em Cowboy: Let's See Your Pony Pictures!

La Sportiva's Batura

Sportiva's Batura came on the market 3 seasons ago. In some ways it is an old answer to an old question. But now seemingly a new technology for the alpine climber.



In the 1970's Peter Carman in Jackson Hole came up with a new way to make single boots warmer, the "Super Gator". Great Pacific Iron Works (a combo company of what was or would be Chouinard Equipment and Patagonia) eventually sold the Super Gator on a broader scale.















So adding a short "Super Gator" to a single boot is not a new idea. Making it a integral part of the boot is fairly new. Scarpa's Phantom Lite Series of Boots and the Kayland 6000 are other boots using similar technology. One of the biggest advantages to a Super Gator on the old leather boots is you had some serious weather protection but that the protection also allowed your boots to breath. For the most part you could keep your leather boots dry and warm in some pretty nasty weather. The other advantage is that you gained an additional layer of insulation on your lower legs helping to keep your feet warm.



The La Sportive Batura and similar boots like it are generally a fabric layered single boot underneath a bit of insulation and a water resistant or in some cases water proof outer shell. With the Batura I find that the boot does not breath well enough to warrant its use on multi day cold weather trips. It is certainly warm enough for use in the Canadian Rockies in winter but my feet get wet from perspiration and then the boots get damp. They just don't breath well for me. I have taken to adding a good amount of Mitchum's anti-perspirant to keep my sox and feet more dry. A VBL sox would be a better answer. The real problem on over night trips in cold weather is the boots get wet and they are just too hard to get dried out on a multi day trip. Like impossible if you need to keep moving of a couple of days. It becomes a perfect situation to get cold injury.



The Batura was designed to be a cold weather technical boot.











La Sportiva sez:

BATURA

The ultimate mountain boot for high elevation alpinism, winter mountaineering and ice climbing



This six layer synthetic boot has an integrated highly water resistant gaiter that opens with a Riri Storm® zipper for excellent water resistant warmth. The inner boot uses thermally expanded PE foam and a polyamide layer for warmth. The shock absorbing PU midsole makes these boots comfortable on long approaches and the 8-9mm TPU midsole stiffener accepts automatic crampons.



WEIGHT: 34.67 oz • 983 g LAST: Nepal CONSTRUCTION: Board Lasted GAITER: Elastic Cordura/ Schoeller® -Dynamic™ with water repellant membrane/ Vibram® rubber rand/ Elastic nylon with impermeable insulating layer/ Riri Storm® zipper UPPER: High tenacity nylon/ Insulated anti-dragging felt/ Insulated PE/ Insulating aluminum layer LINING: Polyamide Thermic layer/ Mesh INSOLE: Insulating Ibi-Thermo 9mm MIDSOLE: 8-9mm TPU/ PU Inserts/ SBR Aircushion SOLE: 8-9mm TPU/ PU Inserts/ SBR Aircushion





Here is what I know of the Batura from my own use over 3 seasons and not all of it is good. Let me make some comparisons to the other Sportiva boots I currently climb in. All to be reviewed at some point in the future. (Trango Extreme GTX Evo, Nepal Evo, Ice Evo, Prime, Batura, Spantik, Baruntse)



The Batura is the softest cuffed boot in the line imo. I have a 11.5 size foot and there is virtually no ankle support in the Batura. Even the Trango Evo Extreme offers marginally better ankle support. And that tiny bit of extra support makes a difference in my calves on steep endurance ice or moderate alpine ice. I start looking for any place to get off your calves and French technique with a soft ankle boot. The Batura is warm enough, but not a lot, if any warmer than the superb Nepal Evo. Only the gator adds enough protection to put the Batura in the same category for warmth as the Nepal Evo. Covered laces on the Batura keeps the boot clean of snow and that helps add some warmth a bit as well.



The ankle support is marginal for ice climbing imo. (this is boot size specific I think) The same soft ankle makes modern mixed really fun though. A board stiff sole with a bit of rocker makes walking just OK. I use the boot specifically for both long approaches, and good mixed routes here in the Cascades and on long, one day, Canadian alpine climbs. But even walking I find the rigid mid sole and cheap, lwt insole extremely uncomfortable with my feet cramping by the end of the day walking out from climbs.



The two eyelets that lace the upper cuff are marginal at best for heel hold down and the cuff is cut so big that I am forced to use the Velcro Nepal Evo tongue liner to get the ankle tight enough to offer what little support that is there. Admittedly l have the second skinniest ankles in world. 1st place would likely go to a 6 year old girl. But it would be close. I would have preferred three sets of lace hooks on the upper cuff and a stiffer material to make the cuff more rigid as well. And if we are going there how about just making the upper more supportive?



Better yet how about a Nepal Evo version of the "Batura"?

Then a lot of us could stop wishing.



I have not had any durability issues with the zipper or the gator. But others have. That was recently changed by using a new and better zipper that is water proof and black in color. It is an inline change for the better. I love the Batura's last which is the main reason i ma still using this boot. The last feels like it has a big toe box area. So you have room to spread and wiggle your toes to keep up the circulation on cold belays. Best of the bunch between Trango and Nepal.



I have friends that climb way more every winter than I do and simply loves this boot for everything. They generally have size 9 and under feet. The smaller the feet the more the owners seem to like the boot. Others have found the multi day "wet boot" issue disappointing and the broken zippers and ripped gator unacceptable. But the idea is sound. Scarpa has the enviable reputation of a more durable boot. Many of the original La Sportive Batura users have simple changed brands. I have yet to see any real complaints on the Phantoms. And now Scarpa has a two new Phantoms upping the game one more time.



Bottom line?



Even with the lack of ankle support and comfort on long hikes for a stiff soled technical boot the Batura is my go to boot for the long day trips in the Cascades. I like not having to worry about a gaiter, they climb hard mixed really well, steep ice reasonably so and they are certainly warm enough for the first 36 hrs as long as they are always on your feet. Easiest boot to walk in I own.

Just buy a better insole than what they ship with.



Would I buy another pair? Maybe. But I'll be looking at Scarpa Phantom Guide first.

Too bad as the Batura with a better, more supportive upper and now the better TIZIP water proof and more durable zipper it could be one of the best, single, alpine ice boots available.



65 degree alpine snice on Pinapple Express, Cascades early Jan '09. And me looking for some calf relief!

New England Coastal Town X

New England Coastal Town X. You know the one. Narrow streets, saltwater marshes, dog-rose bushes. Windswept rocky beaches, icy currents. The natives distinguished from the tourists by their accents, the age of their boat shoes, and their ability to go in the water (watah) without flinching. Dilapidating beachfront properties, clung to for generations before ultimately being sold because money's run out or the siblings can't decide who keeps the house.



The developers from the Cityare good guys,thank God, not at all like those soulless predators who would have entire blocks of historical properties bulldozed for condos. Worshipful of the town's character, they only want to update, to improve. They landscape with native plant life (they've researched this; it looks natural and wild yet subtly colour-coordinated).Gingerly and respectfully they extract Jesus and Mary statues from front yards. They remove asbestos, replace yellowed wallpaper, tear down drop ceilings to expose natural beams, liberate hardwood floors. They gut those claustrophobic interiors with their myriads of tiny rooms to create an open concept layout. They install granite kitchen counters, stainless steel appliances, add extra bathrooms (really, a 6-bedroom house with 1 bath?...).



The updated properties are resold at prices that reflect the quality of labour, the professionalism of the interior design and the local sourcing of materials. They are bought by urban escapees. Eager to live in the quaint town for a fraction of the cost of their cramped city apartment, they long to improve their quality of life with fresh air and natural beauty and a sense of community. But the economy is terrible, and their ideas of local employment opportunities prove over-optimistic. Two years later they return to the City, keeping the property as a summer house and income-generating vacation rental.



A tiny commercial street runs through a narrow peninsula. It is home to 6 ice cream shops and 5 seafood restaurants, every single one of them with water views. The seafood is freshly caught, the ice cream home made. "There's a line, but it's worth it." A woman wearing a white beach dress and straw hat asks the high school girl behind the counter if the scallops are good. Unthinkingly the girl answers that she hates seafood, then laughs apologetically and promises they are excellent. The woman asks the girl where she is from. She replies that she lives down the road, pointing in the direction. The woman is ecstatic as she carries her food away to the outdoor seating area. She tells her husband about the exchange. "You know they're locals if they hate seafood!"



Around the corner is a string of cozy little shops selling locally made jewelry, fair trade clothing from South America, organic hand lotions, antique furniture, used books. The local Art Association operates a Co-Op. Paintings, ceramics, woodblock prints. A hand-holding couple discusses purchasing an abstract seascape. "I want the lighthouse to be recognisable without the whole thing being cheesy, you know?" They study several pieces that meet these criteria, tilting their heads.



There is a yoga studio, a book club, a historical society, a concert hall, a market stall selling fresh produce thrice a week on the Green. Artist residencies are held on a bi-monthly basis. There is a mannerism and style of dress that distinguishes the seasonals from the more casual vacationers and day trippers, establishing a hierarchy of sorts.



And then there are the locals, that elusive species. They work the counters, staff the hotels, rent out the boats. But mostly, those who remain are like ghosts. Sometimes you hear the accents at the beach, or a voice calling a child in "for suppah" from an open window.



New England Coastal Town X. I've lived in one and I've visited many, and now here I am again. Memories blend with images glimpsed from afar as I ride my bike past the rocky beaches, charming shops and impeccably renovated properties.

Morning Sunrays

Red Herring

As the trail grew tricky, I was about to turn around. And that's when I saw it in the distance - a tiny patch of red deep in the thick dark woods. I could not tell how far away it was. No doubt it was just someone's barn, but from a distance it looked mysterious and full of promise. It could be anything. As the sun began its afternoon decline, instead of heading home I made my way toward the red shape flickering in the dappled light.




Back in junior high, we had this scary patch of woods behind the school yard. They said an abandoned shack stood there, where in the '60s a serial killer had taken his victims. Children would go missing from the neighbourhood, and it was not until decades later that their disappearances were solved. Only the killer's remains were found in the shack. An old man by then, he must have died of natural causes. Or did he? Everyone knew there were thingsin the woods where we lived. The kind of things that made ordinary mortal serial killers the least of our worries. This was what we 12 year olds thought about when a ball would fly over the chainlink fence at recess. We dared not go into those woods.




Cycling along the narrow trail, the memory of all this popped into my head, as did the horror flick Don't Look Now - where Donald Sutherland's character pursued what looked like a girl in a red coat only to find something dark and sinister. Did I really want to reach that red object deep in the woods? I laughed to myself, at myself. This was evidence of how unaccustomed I'd become to riding alone. I would not be having these thoughts with one of my cycling buddies around. It was the silence and the lack of any sign of human activity on the trail that lent itself to being shaped by my imagination.




Of course none of us had ever seen the abandoned shack. We knew there was a spot in the chainlink fence where you could lift it up and crawl under. My friend and I had been brave enough to do that - though once we did, we just stood there, too paralised with fear to venture furtherinto the woods. But 12 is an age of dares, pacts, and acts of courage. And one day we decided to find the shack. After school let out, we waited for the yard to clear. Then we ducked under the fence and kept walking before the fear could get the best of us. It was hard to know where to go. The woods were unkept and there were no trails to follow. Eventually we spotted what looked like a narrow overgrown path.It was late September, and the dry leaves made crunching sounds under our shoes. We heard no other sounds, not even birds.




Now too the woods were quiet as I rode through them. Where were the birds, the squirrels, the dog walkers? There was only the soft sound of my tires rolling over roots covered with a blanket of pine needles. I kept the red object in sight, but somehow it was no closer after 15 minutes of cycling. In fact, now it began to seem as if I had passed it. It occurred to me that it wasn't along the main trail, but deeper in the woods. And then I saw a path that seemed to lead toward it. It was overgrown. Covered in roots. Barely a path. But I saw no private property signs, so I turned and followed it.




That day after school we walked for what seemed like forever, though judging by the actual size of the lot it could not have been more than 5 minutes. We gasped when we saw it through the trees: A dirty white wall, surrounded by a heap of bricks where the rest of the structure had once stood. And we gasped once again when we heard footsteps behind it. My friend grabbed my arm, and we began to tremble, not sure whether to run or hide. And then they came out: A middle aged woman in overalls carrying a rake, and a teenage girl, a few years older than us, following her with a large burlap sack. They said hello and warned us about the poison ivy. "It's all over the place, girls. Do you know how to identify the leaves?" They were from the land preservation society. Cleaning up woods, labeling trees. We would have to wait until 8th grade to join. And the white shack? I looked it up years later. It was once a shop selling European auto parts, built in 1982 and abandoned after a fire. It could not have possibly been the hideout of a serial killer in the 1960s.




I knew I was on the right path, because the patch of red grew closer. The path became muddy and difficult to ride through, which only made my journey feel more important. It was damp here. Mosquitos circled and I could see a small bog through the trees to my left. The vegetation was mostly moss, ferns, and poison ivy. The latter slapped my bare legs, but, knowing myself to be resistant to it, I paid no attention. Now and then I dodged low-hanging branches. The mud thickened. Churning through it, I felt like a determined explorer - until finally, there it stood in front of me: A small red tool shed. No more, no less. Seeing it up close - a generic, prefab thing - even my overactive imagination had to acknowledge the complete lack of anything mystical about the structure or the atmosphere surrounding it. I was at the back of someone's property. And now I had to hurry back before dark, cycling through all that mud again.




How funny we are, with our love of setting goals, solving mysteries, inventing worthy destinations - when in actuality what we are after is the experience of the pursuit itself, the goal being just an excuse.

Dandelion

An early-morning February dandelion.

Two days in Vantage ..

Ian and I had planned to go to Squamish for a bunch of days. However, the forecast was not favorable for any of the "local" climbing areas. By Monday, Ian wasn't feeling well, and we decided to make it a two day trip to the Frenchman's Coulee area. Since I don't seem to enjoy climbing there, this didn't make me feel great about the trip before going, but I kept my hopes up that we'd have a good time.

When we arrived, the skies were gray, with a light wind. We headed to Sunshine Wall so I could help Ian finish his project of climbing all the sport climbs at Sunshine (and the Feathers.) Once there, I believe we "warmed up" on Throbbing Gristle(5.9). Ian led it and I followed. It was technically easy for a 5.9, but strenuous. I fell and hung at one point. I cleaned the anchor, and we moved on to the next objective: Air Guitar.

Right around the corner is Air Guitar(5.10a), a route with a little history. (Goran Kropp died from a fall on Air Guitar.) Ian sort of psyched himself out of doing this one in the past due to that reason. He climbed it, and sewed up the middle section a bit before he ended up leap frogging protection near the top, then running it out when out of gear. You should include two #3s and two #4s in a rack for this climb. (One guide book even says a #5 if you have it, but I think two #4s will do.) I had Ian leave the gear in for my climb. I cruised the lower 2/3s of the climb then the crack got to off hands for me. I didn't have a good jam to move up on, and took a fall trying to go for a higher hold. After a few attempts, Ian gave me the advice to go deep into the crack for a jam. It worked. I basically wound up jamming my forearm, and it gave me enough purchase to make the next hold. That got me up to a big ledge, where what I would call the final crux moves waited. Above the ledge the crack was wider and was either fists or off-width depending on your body size. I couldn't manage to get decent fist jams, and ended up arm barring the last section with a few falls to reach the chains. Since we had the top rope set up, Ian climbed it again, and then I gave it another lap where I struggled more on the lower 2/3s and had an easier time with the off hands section.

Ian on Air Guitar

At this point the wind was picking up, and it was trying to rain on us. Ian and I huddled down for a bit hoping it would pass and then decided to head back to the car area and possibly climb at The Feathers. We took a long scenic way back admiring the flowers on top of the mesa while hiking.

Desert Flowers

Before we got back to the car, we decided to climb at Zig Zag wall. Neither of us had before, and it was about time. So we headed over to Unfinished Business (5.8) as our first route over there. Ian then told me it was my turn to lead, so I led up the route. He wanted to see me climb at my limit, which that route technically wasn't, but was challenging for having smaller holds after we had been doing laps on Air Guitar. I on-sighted the route, and then Ian pink pointed it. He commented about the strenuousness with the small holds and congratulated me on a nice lead. We spoke with a few women about looking at their newer guidebook, then decided on a .10b route nearby. (I think it may have been called Group Therapy?) Ian led it nicely, then I thrashed up it to the chains. (Actually I wasn't that thrashy, just in one section.) We called it a day and ate dinner and hung out in the car before camping. (It had started to rain around 6pm, but we decided to stick it out to see what the next day would bring.)

We woke up at 6:15am and Ian promptly went back to sleep. I took a walk down to the Columbia on the road and just enjoyed the smell of the sage, and the desert morning. When I arrived back at the campsite, Ian was topping out from a free solo of Where the Sidewalk Ends (5.1). We got in the car to get him his morning coffee.

When we got back we headed to The Feathers in an effort to complete his project there. He wanted to start with a warm up on The Uprising (5.8), probably the nicest route at The Feathers. However, he wanted me to lead it. I was intimidated by the first bolt being 15' off the ground and backed off one move from it. Ian led it, and then I pink pointed it afterward. I told him that it was a little too stout of a lead for me to warm up on.

We headed through the notch and geared up for I'd Rather be Skiing at 49° North (5.10b). Ian stated to me that this was still not finished by him due to a somewhat scary clipping issue at the 4th and 5th bolts. (There is a potential for falling on a ledge if falling at that point.) It turns out that is the crux of the climb where it is slightly overhanging and has some awkward foot placements. Ian led it in fine fashion, and I cruised to the crux, and then thrashed a bit trying to overcome it. It mellowed out above that point and I cleaned the anchors.

The next target was Hardening of the Arteries (5.10c). This was another route with a high first bolt which has caused Ian trouble. Although after climbing it, I'd say the crux was between the 2nd and 3rd bolt for sure. Ian led the route with no issues, and I climbed it well to the crux where I got pretty pumped trying to pull through the steep moves before it mellows out again near the top. We left the rope up and allowed a Canadian guy named Peter to top rope the route. Then Ian climbed it again to clean the anchors.

Peter at the Crux on Hardening of the Arteries

The wind picked up again, and we sat in the car for a bit eating lunch and hoping it would subside. Ian had only one route left to complete his task, but neither of us was feeling great about going out and tackling it. So we hiked over to it, and looked at it and proceeded to pack the car and leave for Seattle.

Overall, a great trip. I feel I need to step up the next time I climb with Ian. I usually feel content following harder stuff, but want to start leading some harder stuff too. Perhaps next time.

Fineshade round

Almost 4 miles - with Harry

Begonias in bloom

A coffee afterstocking up on bird food, thena wander round Fineshade.A muntjac crosses the path, then we spend half an hour in the hide, watching dragonflies, tits, chaffinches, squirrels, a green woodpecker and a jay. The trees are beginning to turn from the top down, the sky's blue, magic.

Some kind of 'wood-dolphin'?

From the hide

Shells the obvious questions?

Lee climbingin RAB's Neo Stretch Jacket and Xenon insulation layer

As thethree of us sat on my truck's tailgateyesterday afternoon a group of the local Seattle Mountaineers wandered by. Of course we did a full court press handing out cold pizza and beer to the survivors of their alpine ice climbing field trip.



First questions from those that had read been reading Cold Thistle (btw thanks for the support guys) was, "what was the best and how durable are they?"



"Best" is a tough choice. With the three fabrics listed I think any one could well be the "best". As much as it might seem so, I am not trying to get out of answering the question here.



All the fabrics have some stretch to them. All are water proof or nearly so. And all breath better than any traditionalGoretex shell I have used. And all have totally different features as garments. Those features and how the designs work with the fabric is what makes this all a real horse race imo.





Wetted out shoulder but no leaks yet on the Gortex product



Shoulders on the Mountain Hardware jacket showed no wetting on the *Dry Q Elite*

*Dry Q Elite* and *Active Shell * comparison above



*Active Shell* and *Neoshell* comparison above. ThisNeoshell is 9 months old and just starting to wet out a tiny bit in the shoulder area.

Three days out on the rain is not a test of long term durability or for that matter long term performance. Only my Westcomb APOC made of Neoshell can claim anything even approaching reasonable and it is only 9 months old and I haven't used it that much. Even the difference in9 months of use on Neoshell compared to new Neoshell showed clearly on the "wet through" pack strap and back comparisons we made.



The newest Goretex Active Shell will be an exclusive Outdoor Research product for the first season starting in theSpring. So that material, as good as it obviously was o our trip, isn't even available to the public yet.



But back to the basics...design.



I found it amazing that only one of these jackets had a double slider on the front zipper. That would seem to be a no brainer for a designer on a rain jacket. Obviously to me NONE of the designers ever hiked in their own products in a real rain storm. Because if they had, trust me here, ALL of these jackets would have double sliders on the front zipper!







You'll have to forgive the water logged photos..even my camera was wet at this point.

I like really technical jackets. Not a huge fan of pockets but no pockets or poorly placed pockets is simplyfrustrating in a $300+ jacket. Thankfully the use of a helmet in skiing has everyonemaking shells and insulated jacketsdesigned with afunctional helmet capable hood. It was a longtime coming for climbers. How the pockets are placed and designed make s huge difference on how any of these jackets function, vent and perform for breathability.



The wrong kind of pocket or an overly built jacket will limit much of the fabrics ability to stretch let alone breath. So not every Polartec Neoshell or Goretex Active shell garment is going to perform the same, sadly enough.



The Mountain Hardware jackets of *Dry Q Elite* should at least have similar advantages with their own proprietary fabrics. But I have no idea how far that guess really applies to reality.