First to decorate

The tell-tale tinsel appeared at the bottom of the tall glass frontage well before any of the other shops had begun to think about Christmas. For some reason, chemists' shops in Scotland have always been at the forefront of decorating for Christmas. Perhaps because in the not-so-distant past they cornered the market in Christmas gifts. Flowery talcum powder. Bath cubes (whatever happened to bath cubes?). Boxed sets of handkerchiefs. Old Spice aftershave. I wonder if much has changed?

Paton and Finlay chemist's is in the Bruntsfield area of Edinburgh - a 'village' within the city reminiscent of a Parisien 'quartier'.

Addicted

You know you're addicted to cycling when you can come in from a 195km ride, having broken a front derailleur 70km from the finish, and think only of getting your other bike on the road so you can ride the next day. That's exactly what happened to me today. The MTB is now ready to go, and I have another challenging ride in mind -- probably a return to the Garden of Eden from earlier in the year. I don't expect it to turn on another day like that again, but it should be an interesting ride regardless.
The derailleur wasn't the only problem today. My new camelbak sprang a leak somewhere just before my first ride with it, and had to be abandoned at the last minute. Then I couldn't find my sunglasses -- net result I started 30 minutes later than I'd intended (which means the temperature was 30 minutes hotter). As it happened, I headed to Murwillumbah via the John Hogan rainforest, then took Reserve Creek Road toward the south-east. I love the little climbs on this road that come up time and again -- even if the dirt sections had been hit by some of our recent storms.

Next, of course, was the climb of Cudgera Creek Road -- a series of switchbacks on dirt, eventually leading to Burringbar after the screaming descent.

The really hard part of the ride was the climb of Mt Jerusalem. It's not a massive climb (only 278 metres at the summit), but the gravel here was really loose, and by now it was getting hot (it hit 34 degrees C today), so it was a bit of a push. There are, however, great views to be had from the eastern side of the mountain, prior to the screaming descent into Uki.

It was here that the derailleur decided to die. It didn't help that the last 70km was against the wind (apart from the climbs of Urliup and Bilambil). At least there was a sea breeze on the coast to cool things down, and make it easier to concentrate on evading the idiots. Normally at this time of year, this place is beset by 2 million tourists. This year it appears to be dead quiet, and today was no exception. I think even the tourists are being driven away by the heat this year. In anycase, I want them back! I'm a little tired of dealing with the idiot locals -- the tourists are usually a little saner and a little more competent.
As it was I got home and had the obligatory cold shower after an extremely challenging but very rewarding ride. More to come tomorrow.

Tour of trees

At one of the homes we toured last weekend, my friend S. and I enjoyed the sight of the huge trees as much as the home and all the decorations.
How I could have neglected to note exactly what type of trees these were, I'm not sure... I guess I was afraid that the shuttle would leave us. Looks kind of like an oak though, I think. You can click to see it better. (I blurred my friend's face so she wouldn't kill me.)

Another nice one on the other side of the house. Wish I had trees this nice and spreading. (If you're local, you might recognize this as Mitchell Farm.)

On the walk back to the car, we passed a couple of trees with last-gasp color. (That smaller farm manager's house is really more my speed.)

The trees near the Ruby Radish were bare of leaves. The better to see the good bone structure, though.

This is the view from Mitchell Farm - it gives you an idea of the winter forest look in my limestone valley. Almost everything green is a cedar; there are few pines.

Art Leads to More Art

From The Children's Book by A.S. Byatt: Her response to any performance, any work of art, was the desire to make another, to make her own.
This is my response, too, when I do any of the above. If I'm away from home, I scribble the idea into a little notebook I carry just for that purpose. If I don't act on it soon, though, it's birth and death will be in that notebook.
When I think about all the art I could have made, all the stories or songs I could have written if only I had taken the time to act on an idea, it makes me sad.
But instead of dwelling in sadness (which isn't very conducive to making art) I'll try and put that attitude away and focus instead on what I have made. Better yet, I'll plan in my head the things I'll hopefully get around to making soon.

SLOE GIN AND SLEEPY DOGS

I got up early this morning, obviously a little too early for Pip...

who was sleeping so deeply that I was able to photograph her asleep on the sofa and making herself very comfortable amongst the cushions.





The sun rose from behind the old railway track, Farmer T has begun baling the straw - from some places it looks like a straw bale version of Stonehenge - although about a third of the barley remains unharvested due to the rain.

I am not complaining, because compared to the States we are having it easy at the moment, but goodness have we had some thunder storms and rain today. All very dramatic, with great streaks of lightning and lots of thunder to scare Toby. The rain fell very suddenly, and so heavily that it was like stair-rods falling from the sky.

This was the view from the kitchen door just before one of the episodes. The amount of rain made it necessary for your Pa to drain the system at the back of the house - but don't worry - he has worked out why it couldn't cope and he's going to divert the overflows to the system you installed in the car park. No doubt he'll talk to you about it.





I picked lots of runner beans this morning, and spent some time cleaning and blanching them all ready for the freezer. Time consuming, but satisfying. Five bags so far, and lots left to pick.





The fruit farm on Rye Lane is advertising that it will be open for apple-picking in a few days so that will be one of the next jobs. One of these days your Dad will get the apple press out and we will try our hand at making cider.





We made several bottles of sloe gin, and for variety we also made blackcurrant gin - they'll be ready in time for giving out as gifts in December (don't worry, we'll save you one). They look so beautiful that I had to photograph them for you.

Jim Hill Mountain ..

Steve persuaded me to join him and Seth on an exploratory ski trip on Jim Hill Mountain. Now I should have guessed with the term exploratory that this would not be a straightforward trip. But that did not cross my mind. So we left Steve's house around 7:30 am to park near Hwy2 on the road into the Steven's Pass Nordic Center.
We parked near a closed gate and skinned across the lot to a gated forest road. There was a skin track in the road and it was easy going up the numerous switchbacks. At one point the road took a right hand bend downhill and we contemplated our options. We decided to backtrack around the corner and head into the woods there as the undergrowth was not as severe. Within a hundred vertical feet we ran into our first obstacle of getting around some downed trees. After circumnavigating them, we attempted to stay a bit lower off the ridge to avoid the more wind damaged areas.
We traversed through some thick woods up and to our right and arrived below an area with many blow downs. It would have been arduous and time consuming to cross through it (if we even could.) So we passed under it and then continued on our course upward and rightward. The snow seemed good for skiing, but was deep and made for strenuous skinning on the steep treed slopes. We eventually made the ridge and crossed the tops of some open slopes before the terrain got too difficult for skis and we resorted to booting a hundred feet or so. We were hoping to ski off the right side of the ridge, but the terrain was steep (over 50°) and heavily treed. It wouldn't have been easy to even walk that terrain. We contemplated continuing in the hopes of finding a suitable ski path, but it was already after 2:30pm. We had maybe two hours of daylight left to get out, so we started to backtrack on the ridge to find a suitable descent route.
Seth dropping in the clearing (photo by Steve Machuga)
A little before the point where we started to boot was the decided upon descent route. We put the skis on and headed down. It was lightly treed at first but a fairly steep slope probably more than 35°. After only a few turns, I had to jump a downed log as there was no way around it. I was successful, but had to hit the brakes as soon as I landed. Then the trees became more dense and I side slipped and stepped down through a few sections linking a few turns and traversing where I could. I made a lot of downhill kick turn in tight spots. This probably progressed for a few thousand feet with Steve encouraging me the whole way down. I had some good moments like jumping/dropping logs without crashing. But I had some bad moments, especially lower down. I think the fatigue was getting to me and I crashed a bit including some real mix ups with my skis. I think my final crash had me sliding into a small tree like it was home plate.
Yes it really was that thick at times (photo by Steve Machuga)
We eventually made it to flatter ground where we donned headlamps and skins. After a short time skinning we found an old overgrown road and followed that through some alder. There was a moment when we had a clear cut above us and it looked like the road ended and Seth checked to see if the road switched back. It didn't and we continued through thicker alder before we quickly arrived at the road we skinned in on. Steve and I removed our skins, while Seth kept his on and his board split. From there is was the typical luge run down the now firm skin track until we hit the car. I was glad to have a good headlamp with a spotlight, because fast skiing at night is difficult without a fair amount of light.
Coming out by headlamp (photo by Steve Machuga)
Overall this was a fun trip. We now know this is not the way to go to achieve turns on Jim Hill Mountain. It was a fun outing and it pushed my limits in skiing. So next time I am in terrain that is more sedate I should be feeling more confident.
My pics are here.

Golden Gate Sea Kayak Symposium, part three

Gordon Brown and Sean Morley, going over the day's plan.

We were attracted to the Golden Gate Sea Kayak Symposium by the high-level coaching, the venue, and the diversity of sea conditions that were virtually guaranteed. (OK, and the opportunity to leave Chicago in February.)

The hard part was choosing among the offerings. In the end, it came down to selecting classes that took advantage of the current, surf and rocks, or attending the revised BCU 4-star training. After much consideration, Alec chose the 4-star, based on the location, last year’s description, and the fact that Gordon Brown and Tom Bergh would be leading the class. Sharon chose a “master class” on boat handling with Gordon Brown, rock gardening, and a class on riding the tides. In this, our last post from the GGSKS , we’ll write about some of what we did and what we learned.Warning: long post ahead.From Alec: The new 4-star is a leadership award. This means that beyond having to demonstrate a defined list of personal paddling skills, you are able to safely lead a group of four 3-star paddlers in specified conditions. Gordon and Tom emphasized the gravity of the responsibility you take on by choosing to lead a group onto the water. The 4-star assessment also requires completion of a BCU-approved navigation class, a two-day leadership training and 2 day approved first aid class with CPR. My first day involved a the full-day classroom-based navigation class, taught by Tom Bergh and Rob Avery. It was tough to travel all the way to San Francisco and spend a full day on dry land, although the weather made it a bit easier. The class was engaging and interactive, and covered a full syllabus of basic navigation skills, weather formation, rules of the road and buoyage. We created trip routes taking into account tidal currents, wind and as many other factors as we could glean from the charts and pilots. Though we stayed dry ourselves, the content was anything but.The four-star training included group management under the Golden Gate Bridge.

Day two began the 4-star leadership training. After warming up and practicing some group management exercises on the water, we headed out to a point just below the north tower of the Golden Gate Bridge. The ebbing current created an eddy line that grew stronger by the minute. Crossing the eddy line wasn’t that different from what I’ve done on river trips ( larger for sure), but we also had swell to contend with and the consequences of missing the eddy were serious: being pushed out under the bridge and into the busy shipping channel there. Our group of 10 gathered in the eddy near the base of the bridge and watched as another class played in the current. Then, one at a time, we broke out and paddled up current along the shore. The savvier paddlers waited for the swell and took advantage of the push it gave them, make the break-out easier. My timing wasn’t perfect, so I had to use a fair amount of muscle to keep my kayak pointed into the current. I know how I’ll try to do it next time.

Throughout the day, we explored strategies for managing a group in various situations. We were encouraged to think for ourselves and consider options as a group. We weren’t given “correct” answers, but told to always have a plan for what to do “if…” and to check every 20 seconds to be sure we knew where every member of our group was. (A swiveling head is key.)Tom Berge watches as the four-star trainees leave the harbor.

Day three promised the best weather of the weekend: partly sunny, moderate winds, and diminishing swell off Point Bonita, the last tip of land leading from the entrance to the bay. (The waves there had been 20 feet the previous day.) But there was a tsunami warning predicted for 1:10 p.m., which caused some concern within our group and divided opinions about what this would mean inside the bay and what actions would be appropriate. In the end, we agreed to paddle out past the gate and explore along the Marin Headland, with the understanding that we would keep our activities within the remit of a 4-star ( up to 2 knots of current, within 1 mile of shore, up to 1-meter waves or surf and no more than a 2-mile crossing) and return before the tsunami’s predicted arrival. As we headed out, Gordon had us pair up for what he called the “anxiety exercise”-- rating how much anxiety an activity created for us each. First we did an activity on our own. Next our “buddy “ closed his eyes while we directed him through the same activity. Then we rated how much personal anxiety we had versus how much we felt for the person we were guiding. We traded places and did it again. Overall, we found that when we guided someone else, we tended to transfer concern for ourselves to the person we were guiding. A light-bulb moment. The paddle out past the gate was beautiful. We saw swell crashing among the rocks, creating wonderful play spots( beyond the remit we were allowed to paddle this day), and landed on a small beach with nice 3-foot waves. We returned on a flooding tide before the tsunami arrived. After lunch we finished our last day on the bay practicing rescues in an eddyline just around the corner from the harbor.

Towing against the current during the four-star training.

I ended up feeling good about the skills I have honed predominantly on the Great Lakes. That being able to paddle in such a dynamic environment as the San Fransisco Bay was challenging, stimulating and left me wanting more.From Sharon:I chose to take classes that promised exposure to top-notch coaches, to conditions I hadn’t experienced, or both. The course I chose for day one, “Master Class with Gordon Brown,” was (no surprise) oversubscribed. Nineteen people signed up for it—a ratio far beyond reasonable—so the class was divided in three and we rotated between Gordon, Steve Scherrer and Ben Lawry. The weather also imposed restrictions. Twenty- to 30-knot winds gusted to 45 at times, flipping unprepared paddlers before they knew what was happening. Rain pelted us for at least four hours, and at one point we were pretty sure we felt hail. So we stayed in the harbor and used the opportunity to explore basic principles of boat control using mostly the sweep stroke and from the perspective of these three phenomenal coaches. What fascinated me most was that each had his own way of focusing students on the essentials of boat control. While Steve emphasized factors like upper- and lower-body separation and the way a paddle either slips or grips in the water, Ben emphasized the placement of the paddler’s knees and seat, and Gordon (who taught during the fiercest winds of the day) mostly had us experimenting with bow rudder placement. All three reinforced two things I’ve been working on in my teaching: encouraging students to explore what happens instead of telling them what to do; and reducing the arc of a sweep stroke to ensure that students never get outside the “paddler’s box.” (This last item has taken some work. Just two years ago, it was common practice to demonstrate a full 180-degree sweep stroke, which is both unnecessary and potentially injurious if combined with the concept of looking where you're going.)

A friendly blow hole just west of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Day two was supposed to be “rock gardening,” but two things conspired against that plan: bigger-than-expected wind and swell, and a glass boat that I was terrified to damage. (I had rented an Avocet LV from Rob Avery, and it turned out to be a Kevlar beauty.) Our group paddled out to Angel Island, where we were able to do some limited rock gardening along with some wonderful sight-seeing. It’s hard to complain about going for an all-day paddle with good people in a beautiful place. And I was on the water when the remains of the tsunami rolled through: three perfect 8- to 10-foot waves, gentle to ride but unnerving in their connection to the destruction in Chile. This left me yearning to learn something new on day three—a desire I confessed to Steve Scherrer, who was leading one of the classes on riding the tide. This time I was not disappointed. Steve talked about the types of flow: the laminar flow of unobstructed water, the helical flow of water that encounters an obstacle, and the up-and-down flow of water that mainly stays in place behind an obstruction. Then we went out and explored what this meant for how our boats move. We learned which blow-holes we could get up close and personal with, and which required us to keep some distance; we played in some currents and gentle overfalls. Then we headed over to the tidal race near Yellow Bluff, where the ebbing tide over a constriction creates standing, surfable waves. I had never before been in a tidal race. I paddled hard and caught a wave, riding it for what seemed like forever. I felt like I was covering a lot of distance until I looked over my shoulder at the bluff and realized that I was, if anything, moving backwards. The waves weren’t big enough to challenge my paddling skill, but they were emotionally draining. It’s good, sometimes, to go back to being a novice and recall how tiring it is to learn new things.

One of the rock gardening spots on Angel Island, seen from a distance.

I wrapped up the day in the same place I spent my first day: the harbor. Mark Pecot and I hung out for some time, talking and rolling and generally trying to avoid the fact that the symposium was over. In the end, I also felt that my Great Lakes paddling skills had served me well, but the power of the ocean is categorically different. Lake Michigan waves, created entirely by the wind, can be big, but they’re steep and close together and lack the power of ocean waves. Four-knot currents are at the limit of what I can paddle against and even hold my position, but the ebb current under the Golden Gate Bridge was often more than five knots. I could easily have been swept out into the open ocean if I didn’t know what the water was doing. There’s a lot to learn out here and I hope to be back next year.

Thanks 'n a Tag

THANK YOU CHECKERS!
I want to belatedly thank Checkers ("I may be small but I'm definitely in charge") the Peekapoo (http://checkersthepeekapoo.blogspot.com/) for this rockin', sockin' pawsome badge award! It is creative and furry beautiful. Much gratitude and xoxoxoxo!
And my mom has been tagged by Samantha and June at http://ydsalittleofeverythingplace.blogspot.com/!
The rules are:1. Mention and link back to the person who tagged you.2. List 6 little things that make you happy.3. Tag 6 other bloggers and let them know they're "it".
1. I love rock climbing soooo much! The mountains where I've climbed are beautiful... no... spectacular, often requiring hikes that take me through tranquil forests and refreshing lakes and streams. And the challenges of a rock's architecture are so numerous - no two routes are the same!
2. My family is pretty much an instant happymaker! I am extremely lucky! My mom, siblings and their families are all in the northeast, but our son and family are all out here, which is ashame, but we try to gather together at least two to three times annually.
3. I adore traveling. Another instant "happymaker!" Below is a picture taken at about 5 a.m. near Piana in Corsica. We are at Les Roches Rouges, which we knew would be gorgeous at or around sunrise.
4. And speaking/writing of sunrise, I really love an amazing sunset. I took this picture of the sun setting over the Rockies from Colorado Springs on our last evening there a couple of years ago. I just hit shot after shot of the amazing fireball of a show.
5. I love flowers if you didn't know that already hehe! All spring I took pictures of Sammie (poor girl) in a backround of profusions of blossoms!
6. And of course this is truly among the #ONE "little" things that makes me so furry, furry happy! Sammie - you make me experience such a broad range of emotions from love and laughter to tears and fears that I don't know what we've done without you all these years. We are so grateful that we are lucky enough to share what we call HOME with you! This has been a tough tag, as there are so many things I could write about, but there's a start! I know this is a cop-out, but this tag is really a valuable exercise. I urge all doggies to try this. So... I tag all my bloggie pals and look forward to hearing about the "little" things that make your pawrents happy! Huggers,Sammie

Learning the Loops: Sakatah/Madison Lake

Note: This is Part 3 of a four-part series on the bike loops listed in the Greater Mankato Visitors Bureau's biking/hiking trails map
Distance: About 15 miles.
Directions: Like the other loops, it all depends on where you want to start from. According to the DNR website, a section of the Sakatah Singing Hills Trail is currently closed between Lime Valley Road and Highway 22 until the end of August to replace a bridge, install a large culvert and replace/repair several smaller culverts. Since the parking lot along Highway 22 is also closed, I'd recommend starting from the River Hills Mall parking lot, biking on the path along Highway 22 and linking up with the Sakatah Trail after it crosses County Road 12. Once you reach the trail, turn right and head east to Madison Lake. Once you get to Madison Lake, take a left on Main Street (the road just before reaching the Trailblazer Bar & Grill) and then take an immediate left onto County Road 26. Follow that for about 7 miles until the road intersects with 589th Ave. At that point, take a left, follow the curve to the right onto 227th Street and follow that until you see the Sakatah Trail along the side of the road.
Once the the repair work is done along the Sakatah Trail, I'd recommend starting from the trail head parking lot on Lime Valley Road or at the parking lot located along Highway 22.
Recent wrinkle: A bike path was recently built that links the Sakatah Trail and County Road 12 about a mile east of Mankato. It runs runs parallel to 589th Ave. If you're on the Sakatah Trail, this is the street where the bridge is being built over the railroad tracks. If you're on the back roads portion of the loop, it's the street where Ron's Auto Repair is located. I'm not quite sure how the path adds to this route (the Sakatah Trail and County Road 12 already cross paths in Mankato), but it's another option.
Notes on the route: Might as well call this the "lake loop." Aside from Madison Lake, you'll bike past three other lakes (Ballantyne, Gilfillin and Eagle) in the 15-mile ride and you'll see Eagle Lake twice.
Difficulty-wise, at 15 miles, it's far and away the shortest and easiest loop of the four. Unless you're starting from the Sakatah Trail head (again, not an option at this point because that stretch of trail is closed), the only inclines you'll encounter are a few rolling hills on County Road 26. There isn't a lot of wind cover, but as I've mentioned before, part of the appeal of biking a loop is that a head wind for one stretch can quickly become a tail wind. Since half of the loop takes place on a bike trail and most of the other half sticks to one road, it's also pretty easy to navigate.
I would also consider this loop to be the safest of the four. The back roads on it are well-maintained roads with low traffic, wide shoulders and no problematic intersections to speak of. Ironically, the biggest safety concern of the entire loop used to be on the Sakatah Trail whentrail users had to cross the railroad tracks and bike on a dirt however. However, that concern was resolved earlier this year when the trail was rerouted to run parallel with the bridge being built over the railroad (pictured right). Highway 22 isn't the safest road to cross, but once the repair work is finished, that won't be an issue.
Fair warning: There are no bike shops on this loop or in Madison Lake, so be sure to pack a repair kit just in case. I found this out the hard way when I got a flat tire in Madison Lake last fall and had to call a friend to come pick me up.
Places to eat along the route: Since the Mankato portion of this loop is on the outskirts of town, I'll keep the eating options confined to Madison Lake. With that in mind, there's two major spots to grab a bite in town: The Trail Blazer Bar & Grill and the Boatlanding Restaurant and Resort.
The Trail Blazer was a bike trip destination of mine for a blog post last summer, so I won't waste much space rehashing what I liked about it. The food is very reasonably priced, they have regular drink specials and the atmosphere has a cool fisherman's vibe to it (they also have some interesting wooden statues to glance at, some of which can be seen on the left side of their website).
The Boatlanding Restaurant and Resort is an eating spot I'm relatively unfamiliar with. I've biked past it and hung out on the beach in the resort, but that's about it. According to locals I talked to, the restaurant is known for making delicious pizzas and having a sizable spread for Sunday brunch. It's also known for having surprisingly decent prices on meals for a restaurant that's linked to a resort. The resort's website can be found here, but despite having a restaurant tab, it doesn't have anything listed about their menu or food prices.
Things to see/do along the route: I haven't attempted it yet, but if you can figure out how to pack a fishing pole on your bike, there's probably some pretty good fishing spots along this route (after seeing a RAGBRAI rider tow a keg with his bike last summer, I'm convinced anything is possible). I've had good luck with darkhouse spearfishing on Ballantyne in the past and I know that Madison Lake is one of the more popular fishing holes in the area. Though my co-worker Doug Monson might be the person to ask about area fishing prospects.
Beyond that, the plethora of lakes on this loop also has the inviting prospect of stopping off somewhere to cool down in the water. I've already mentioned the beach on Madison Lake, but according to the loop map, the Eagle Lake public access off County Road 26 is also a viable option. Based on my own experience, I can say that the public access area has relatively clean water and isn't too rocky to walk on.
Beyond fishing and swimming, this loop also has a camping option if you're looking to make it an overnight trip. The Sakatah Trail Campsite (located right next to the Trail Blazer) has tent camping for $15 per night.
Possible ways to expand the loop: The Sakatah Trail runs all the way east to Faribault, so that's a pretty straightforward option to lengthen your ride. The best place I know of to eat along the trail between there and Faribault is Tucker's Tavern in Elysian. Fantastic burgers and enough Vikings memorabilia to make you bleed purple and gold. There's also a disc golf course in Morristown if you're willing to pack a frisbee for the ride.
If your looking for off-trail expansion options, try biking past the Sakatah campground in Madison Lake and taking a left onto 1st Street/County Road 26. That will lead you past Duck Lake into the Lake Jefferson/Lake Henry area. From there, you can either take looping back roads back to Mankato or continue on County Road 15 to Cleveland, home of Kokomo's Bar & Grill.

Southwick and woods, circular

With Barrie E, Terry, Sue, Kate, Ian and Carol, Phil, Barry O, Gordon, Maureen, Eddie. Fine sunny morning. Just over 6 miles. And no stiles.





This walk follows the same route as the one fromWed, September 7th. This time we started from the lay-by just after the water tower on the road to Glapthorn from Southwick. I haven't written up details, as they're on the linked post, but here are a few snaps of some of the 'gang'.

Crossway Hand Farm

Not 'one of us'.

Checking out The Trace

After breakfast, it was time to get ready for a bike ride. Gonna be a windy, hot day. Forecast is for winds of 20-30 from the South. Sounds like a ride on the Wabash Trace.
The temperature was rising quickly, so headed to Silver City to ride. Started South down the Trace. Goal was to ride to Malvern or further.
As I pedaled, I could sense that I was not going to make it to Malvern. The trail surface was a bit soft, raising my heart rate and tiring my legs. The new destination was the Silver Creek Bridge. Today's photo was taken of/on the bridge.
I was wearing my hydration pack. Glad I had that as the as the hear and humidity was getting to me. There was NO air moving on the bridge.
After stopping for a few photos and drinking some of my G2, figured that I might as well pedal a little further. When I got to 305th St, I decided that was enough and headed back to Silver City.
The ride back was a little better with the tail wind. But, still taxing. Arrived back to the car exhausted, Car thermometer reads 85 deg. Guzzled the other bottle of G2 on the way home.

Home Is Best

"A man travels the world over in search for what he needs

And returns home to find it."

George Moore