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.

The Drawing Board

I find it enormously satisfying to follow the framebuilding process from the drawing board. Maybe it is because as a painter, I have grown accustomed to "needing to know" the process that underlies the finished object.

You can always spot a painter among the crowds in a museum or an art gallery: They are the one trying to get close enough to a painting to see the brush strokes, examining the side of a canvas, looking for cracks in the paint, possibly even sniffing at it.

This habit has followed me as I explore the world of custom bicycles. In the photo above is a drawing board of a local frame builder whose work I greatly admire - the same person responsible for this lovely bottom bracket.

Side Street or Main Street?

Cycling in greater Boston, I alternate between routes that take me along busy roads and routes that take me through quiet side streets. Each option leaves something to be desired. The busy roads are, well, busy - lots of car traffic, lots of action, lots of chaos. But they do seem to have enough room for everyone, including the processions of cyclists that now travel along them more than ever. The side streets are much quieter and greener, but are often too narrow to fit both a car and a bike side by side - resulting in its own set of challenges.

I've mentioned before that when I have close calls or memorably negative encounters with cars, it almost always seems to happen on a side street. But the same is definitely not true for everyone, and a recent post on Let's Go Ride a Bike illustrates why many urban cyclists tend to keep away from busy roads. So I keep wondering what it is that, over time, has made me weary of side streets, whereas others see them as a refuge.

One possibility is that I tend to overcompensate for the danger factor of main streets by being extra-vigilant, extra-focused and extra-careful as a matter of course - expecting the worst from every vehicle out there, and cycling in a way that anticipates that.On the other hand, side-streets lull me into a state of relaxation, because they seem so tranquil and friendly - so when something bad is about happen, I don't see it coming and am less likely to avoid it.

But this factor aside, I also think that drivers are less likely to keep their aggression in check when there are fewer witnesses. On side streets there aren't many people around, and perhaps the drivers with whom I've had confrontations and close calls were well aware of that. A scary thought, to be sure.

What is your take on main streets versus side streets, and what is your preference?

Glacier

Here is more of an close up of the mountains. You can see the snow and a glacier almost right in the middle. It is the closest I could get to the glacier at this time. According to a sign at the viewing center there are more than 60 active glaciers on the mountains that are in Olympic National Park.

Happy Birthday, Dean!

Rich and Donna arrived here this week, and we are thrilled about that since we haven't seen them since Peace River. Donna is the one who kept encouraging me to get out there and play pickleball and I'd have most likely quit if it weren't for her and Karen.



She said something yesterday about it probably being too late to do a Happy Hour this week, but maybe next week. I told the guys that while we were on our way to grab some groceries for the week. The Happy Hour King (Austin) thought it was no problem to do one this week.



Since I'm crazy, I agreed. So Austin invited everyone to come to one THAT DAY...and everyone of course pulled it together with no problem. Even a bit of rain didn't slow us down. We just moved to the Rec Hall and did it there. The ladies amazed me with all of their goodies that they brought even with the "no notice" ahead of time. Especially Vicki and Margie.

We've been to lots of Happy Hours, but this was one of the most special ones because it was also Dean's birthday party. Dean is the Grandparent to the really cool kid, Gavin. You know, the one who is a falconer. If you know Dean, it isn't a surprise that Gavin is so cool. It runs in the family.



Dean is one of those sunny people that just brightens the world. You can't help but be in a better mood after hanging out with Dean. His smile alone will warm you right up. (Why do I hear Bob cracking up as I write that?) He's also one of those people that you feel sees something good in you, so when you spend time with him you begin to believe it yourself.



His wife Margie is pure sweetness, so they make a great pair.

Hope your birthday wish comes true, Dean!

We had a great time, surrounded by some of our favorite people!



Living the life in friend filled Florida!

Encased in Ice

What a difference a day makes!

Yesterday was a sunny, bright, beautiful day.

Today is dull and gray. And everything outside is encased in a layer of ice.

But if we have to have dull, gray, icy days, better today than yesterday! Because yesterday I had to take my mom to the doctor for a follow-up exam. That meant a 30 minute drive to Columbia City to pick her up then a 45 minute drive to Auburn. Fifteen minutes waiting to see the doctor, about ten minutes spent with him in the office, and then reverse the drive back home. I'm so glad yesterday was a nice day! And so very glad that I don't have to go out in this mess today!!

The view from my front door. Doesn't look too bad? Well, there is about three inches of compacted slush, snow, ice and sleet in the drive. I haven't ventured out to the mail box yet. No traction. The pictures were all taken within 20 feet of the apartment and I used the flash to get some definition and contrast.

Looking closely at the trees, shrubs and weeds you'll see there is about a ¼ to a ½ inch of ice covering everything. Not nearly as bad here as it is in Columbia City or South Whitley (where my niece lives and is currently without electricity) or further south. And not even close to what struck the northeast coast last week or the northwest this week. So we are very fortunate here. Most of the schools in the area closed for the day giving the kids an extra day for their winter break.

Spending Time With the Ladies

We've been staying so busy, I'm exhausted from it. It's the good kind of tired to be sure. But my body is sure protesting all of the activity. Today we started the day with pickleball and ended it with pickleball. We are all training for the tournament this weekend so we are playing hard.



I like pickleball. Sometimes it gets a bit intense though. Playing with men adds another dimension of intensity for me. I forever feel the pressure to step up my game to hold my own with them. Since we have been to this park, the ladies have been getting up early so we can meet at the court before the guys get there. There is just something so wonderful about getting in that one or two games with just us girls. It's been a real treat for me.



In between all of the pickleball today, Diana and I had a little ladies fun doing some line dancing. Technically there was one guy there too, but just the fact she and I got to go together made it girl fun for us.

The lovely Miss Faye and Margie both taught. They both did a great job. We had fun. My calves now officially hate me for it. But we had fun.

For years and years now my life has revolved around my family. I've enjoyed it and don't regret it. Until the past year though, I'd forgotten how wonderful it is to spend time with women like this. Diana and I were trying to recall the last time we did things with just women, meaning just for fun time with them. High School was the last time I could remember. And as I recall, it was pretty wonderful back then, even with the immaturity and pettiness that goes along with a group of young girls. I've missed it.

So I guess it just feels like a homecoming of sorts to find a place for it in my life again. For all the tons and tons and tons of advice I've been given over the years in regards to being a wife and mother, I wish someone had also told me "spend time in the company of women"..."without the focus being husbands or children"...."in fact, sometimes make sure you spend time with women and never, ever talk about the husbands and children". I think it would have done my spirit a lot of good.



So glad I do have it now. Living the life this week in the company of lovely ladies in Virginia!

Sunset at Cobscook Bay

Wednesday, September 19th - - A stormy day sometimes brings a beautiful sunset. After driving around looking for a 'better' spot to view the setting of the sun, and not finding one, I returned to my campsite just in time...





Sometimes I am, quite simply, amazed by the beauty of Mother Nature. The south-eastern sky was filled with a soft, muted pink...






While the western sky was ablaze with fiery streaks of orange.





It was a beautiful sight! Yes indeed.

Going to Interbike

Interbike will be happening next week and this will be my second year. If there is anything there you are interested in me checking out and photographing or writing about, please let me know over email. Likewise, if you're going and would like to say hello, get in touch. Contact me at filigreevelo-at-yahoo with the subject line Interbike. Looking forward to it!

Putting in the Glacier Stakes

Good news for climbing this year at Mt. Rainier!

Many of you may have seen the white schedule-40 PVC pipes in various locations on the mountain. These stakes are installed using a steam drill and a big frothing wand to put an 8-9 meter long stake into the snow down past the layer of glacier ice.

When we put the stakes in, the snow depth is measured from last year's late fall layer. This year, all of the way up the Nisqually and even at 11,100' on the Ingraham, we have measured an amount of snow comparable to most years at this time.

This is good news for climbers. Many of the non-standard routes rely on Mt. Rainier's typical snowfall to make the route endure long enough into the summer for climbers to take advantage of the better weather.

The project's aim is to analyze the mass-balance of the Nisqually Glacier. One of the things that we have learned from this project is that the Muir Snowfield at about 9,700 feet has lost about 1 meter of ice each year for the past six years. Many of you may have noticed the rock rib that has been exposed just down from Camp Muir at about 9,700 feet!

The Glacier Monitoring Program is coordinated by the geologist at North Cascades National Park. Many of the Pacific Northwest's glaciers are incorporated into this study. Field crews from North Cascades National Park and Mount Rainier National Park are involved in the project.

Rio Grande Valley State Park

www.cabq.gov/openspace/riograndevalley.html This web site is where you can find more about the Rio Grande Valley State Park.

My Fortune

Aric and I grabbed some Chinese food for lunch a few weeks ago, and this was in my fortune cookie.

Short Trip Back to Peace River

I am having so much fun in The Villages, that I think the only thing that could get me to leave would be the horses at the horse sanctuary that I volunteer at. The owner took a much needed vacation, so I agreed to come down and help our group of core volunteers cover while she was gone. I was happy to be greeted by some of my favorite horses as soon as I stepped out of my car.





I was also happy to see all of the horses looking healthy and happy. Even Joe, who is still recovering and underweight was much better than a month ago. Dixie, the newest mini, was walking around well.



Chevy, who makes my heart pitter patter like no other male beyond Nathan, was an handsome as ever. His gorgeous side kick was as feisty as ever.



There is a beautiful storage barn for the hay.



In fact, the only thing that wasn't wonderful while I was there was this:







We had an abundance of rain last summer, but we have much more flooding from it this year. I think the horses are as sick of it as we are.





I did get lots of exercise the four days I was there. I normally walk a lot while there. In fact, I wore my pedometer one day and this is how many steps I logged during that day:



Now factor in many of those steps being in the mud, and you can imagine how tired my legs are right now! I have blisters all over my feet and legs. My shoulders and arms ache. Luckily the horses make every minute of the hard work worth it all and then some! I love spending time out there, and I love each and every horse.



Living the life in wet and muggy Florida!

Wordless Wednesday - Not Your Normal Portrait

Carrie and Tami. Summer of '81. Digitized ...
Copyright © 1981/.. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman

Stepping it up a bit now

Climbing 'Malsonando', Gandia.



During the week in Spain I have been doing some 7b and 7cs onsight just to get into the flow of climbing again, but I was also keen to see just how far away from recovering my form on harder routes. So I tried an 8c called Malsonando at Gandia.




I had no idea how I’d get on. Before coming out, since starting climbing again I’ve had 6 weeks or so of some indoor climbing and started from a very low base of fitness and very gentle climbing on easy ground at first. I did manage to climb the 8a endurance circuits in TCA Glasgow and in the past I’ve found that if I can do 8a indoors I can usually do 8c or even 8c+ outdoors. Folk sometimes find that weird and don’t understand it. Partly it’s because my hands sweat quite a lot and so climbing outside in cold conditions allows me to climb a lot harder. However, the main reason is I’m not that strong and so struggle more indoors where I can rely on technique more outdoors.




Anyway, the rule held true and yesterday I was able to climb Malsonando in pretty bad conditions which I was very happy with. My endurance is still barely off the baseline level and I got quite pumped well before the crux, but it’s definitely a good place to be 2.5 months after the surgeon was drilling into my Talus.



Today was good too, an 8b first redpoint, another 8a and a 7c+ onsight.




On the way home from the crag, I began to think that I could start to set some firmer climbing ambitions for the coming year now.

A Dabble in Route Planning

The past year has been a great eye-opener for me as far as finding new places to ride in an area I thought I'd exhausted. In particular, I've been impressed by local randonneuse Pamela Blalock's ability to design routes entirely along back roads, with minimal motorised traffic. This style of route involves more climbing than typical, and, at times, some intense navigation. But having gotten used to both, I've come to appreciate the opportunities routes like this provide: to travel on my bike largely undisturbed by cars, and to truly get to know an area, with all its hidden scenery and useful shortcuts.I also appreciate that Pamela's routes are not a matter of luck or psychic powers, but of dedicated research and strategic exploring.






Until recently I did not feel sufficiently confident in my navigation skills to try this myself, butnow that is changing. I am planning a ride heading North, and getting out of Boston straight up the coast is a thoroughly unpleasant business. There is no good way to do it; for the first 10 miles it is all dangerous roads and lots of congestion. So I wanted to plan a route that would swing out west and come around from there, connecting to the northern route at a point where it calms down. This adds about 30 extra miles to the start of the trip, but I will take 40 pleasant miles over 10 unpleasant ones any time.






In planning the westward route extension, my goal was to try and do it along lightly traveled back roads, possibly with some unpaved stretches. I started by studying similar routes that go through the area, combining and modifying them based on personal experience, maps, and educated guesswork, until I'd strung something together that went where I needed it to go. I loaded the route onto GPS, printed out a cue sheet, and got on my bike to test out my handiwork.






For my first time trying something like this, it wasn't bad. There were lots of turns that would drive some people nuts and a few awkward climbs - the kind where a climb starts right after a sharp turn, catching you by surprise, so that you're downshifting madly from a high gear. This I didn't mind, particularly since I was the only vehicle on the road much of the time. But there was also a couple of mistakes/ surprises - not necessarily bad, but educational.






My route included a few unpaved trails, all except one of which I was already familiar with. The one I was not familiar with turned out to be more technical than I'd expected.






A shortcut through the woods, the narrow bumpy trail wound its way downhill between trees rather tightly. I was able to ride it, but made a note to avoid it on skinny tires, in wet weather and in the dark. Looking at the map, I saw there was a way to circumvent the woods on the road, so I then went back and tested that stretch to make sure it was a sufficiently traffic-free alternative.






While not ideal for all bikes and all occasions, this trail proved to be incredibly scenic this time of year. For much of it, I cycled under a canopy of budding magnolia blossoms.The sun brought out their colours against the blue sky, and the warm weather brought out their scent.






Riding here, I felt as if I'd been gifted a rare glimpse into something special and rare. Only for 2 weeks of the year do these flowers blossom. And all it takes is one windy, rainy day, for all this tentative pinkness to be stripped off its branches before the flowers even fully open up.






Spring is such a delicate time of the year. The greens are pale, the tangled trees are transparent like lace. In the summer this will all become fuller, heavier, thicker - a dense fabric.






Even moss is paler and softer. I love coming back to the woods season after season and seeing it all change.






Further along, I found myself on a stretch of road that was much busier than expected. So I changed course in hopes of finding a better alternative. On the map I saw a tangle of side streets that it looked like I could ride through to get to my next point, skipping the busy road. So I did just that, and found myself in a cul-de-sac neighbourhood situated on a substantial hill. Looking for the best route, I ended up going over this hill several times from different directions, until I found the sequence I was happiest with.




On one of the streets I passed a group of small boys with their kids' bikes. The poor things could only ride them up and down short stretches in front of their house before the road became too steep. Seeing me continue all the way up the hill, the boys stopped what they were doing, stood still and stared, saying "Whoa, I want to do that!" and "That's a nice bike, lady!" They had not reached that age yet where youthful mockery becomes hard to detect; it was clear their delight was genuine.






Later, I encountered a woman walking a llama, as casually as if she were walking a dog. Normally I am not good at making quick u-turns, but this time it was no problem (llama!).






Heading home along a quiet trail, I realised that in the course of the past 50 miles there had only been a few stretches with noticeable car traffic. And now that I had a better understanding of the neighbourhoods around those stretches, I could make changes to improve those parts as well. It wasn't perfect, but I am pretty happy with my first serious attempt at backroad route planning. Even the parts that did not go as expected allowed me to explore and discover interesting pockets I would have otherwise missed.




Having a network of new, "secret" as some locals refer to them, routes through familiar areas is extremely exciting and a great way to travel. I am looking forward to doing more of this!