Wisps of Light

Well, I've been suffering "Aurora withdrawals" since our last two opportunities for Northern lights viewing in Northern Minnesota were cancelled due to heavy cloud cover. As a way of getting my "fix", I went back to some photos from the night of March 10, and found a couple that I had not yet worked on. The photo you see here is one such photo. This was captured near the tail end of what I still consider to be the BEST Aurora display that I have ever seen.

Day three: navigation day and night

Today is all about finding our way and staying out of traffic. The kind of stuff you hope your kids learn by the time they head off for kindergarten, but it’s trickier when you’re in a small boat on big water.
The day began with navigation exercises on land and on the water. We practiced finding bearings and triangulating to determine our position, and then finding a heading to a buoy that took into account the current and wind. We paddled out to the buoy and, once again, were joined by several playful dolphins.
Lyn photographs a dolphin, one of many we would see during the day.

The next step was safely crossing Tybee Road, a major shipping channel where the Savanna River meets the Atlantic Ocean. So we grouped up at a green bell buoy and watched for boats. When the coast seemed clear, we took the shortest route across, to the red buoy. From there we practiced taking bearings and adjusting headings until it was time to cross the channel again. This time, we heard the rumble of something large in the distance. It turned out to be a gambling boat—a windowless, tank-like vehicle that seemed like a symbol of floating desperation. Playing it safe, we waited about 10 minutes until it was at most two minutes from crossing in front of us, then took off across the channel. Our trip took about nine minutes. We might have made it if we hadn’t waited, but who wants to take the chance of being run over by a gambling boat?
Green buoy 17. When we visited it during the day, it was a helpful aid to navigation, marking our position and one side of the shipping channel. When we came back that night, it was a safe haven--a spot where we felt less vulnerable in the darkness and the Saturday night boat traffic.
When we returned to the same beach after dark, everything looked different. Lights blinked on the water, calling out their identities with their color and frequency. Estimating distances was tough. At one point, the residential lights more than five miles away on Hilton Head Island looked like bioluminescence about half a mile away. We used a red light to read our chart and compasses because red light doesn't compromise night vision, only to discover that the color made it difficult to tell one side of the bearing compass needle from the other or immediately see the color of buoys on the chart. Everything took longer and felt more uncertain in the dark.
Checking the chart and choosing a heading was harder on land in the dark, and even more so on the water.
When we got on the water, strong swells and a pushy current immediately rendered our intended heading obsolete. We paddled out to the buoy while watching a large freighter cruise up Tybee Road. The dolphins must have been asleep beneath us, one eye open, one eye closed. It was beautiful and magical being out at night. By the time we arrived at the buoy, we felt the full two knots of current pushing us out toward the ocean. That's when a motor boat sped by a little too close for comfort, reminding us how vulnerable we were.
Lessons learned include:
- practice with all your night gear before you really need to use it
- plan ahead on shore as much as possible (which is true night or day)
- don't let advance planning keep you from adjusting when you get on the water and feel the real conditions (or as Marsha says, "Get your brain off the paper.")
- pack before it gets dark, if possible
- secure anything you can't afford to lose (we used paddle leashes)
- realize that you may be far less visible on the water than you think.

Temple Crag and Third Lake

I hiked to this lake back in July. The area around Big Pine and Bishop (California) is awesome. So many lakes and high mountains...
This body of water, Third Lake, is fed by meltwater from the Palisade Glacier, one of the southern-most glaciers in the United States.

Foothill Blue

Foothill Blue, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

I hope you like wildflowers, because you're going to be seeing a lot of them very soon...
These flowers are baby blue eyes. They grow in small patches along the Hite Cove Trail near Yosemite National Park. If you can get to Hite Cove, do so now, as the conditions are spectacular!

To Clip or Not Clip - That is the Question

At age 57 I bought a bicycle. I had not been on a bicycle since I passed my driver's license test. When I Stopped in at Xtreme Wheels in Council Bluffs, IA, I was looking for a way to exercise to continue my rehab after a stroke and open heart surgery.
The bike Bill had me try was a comfort bike - Trek Navigator 200. The last bike I had did not have any gears and I pedaled backwards to brake. As my bicycle knowledge grew, I learned these are now called “fixies” with coaster brakes.
Anyway, I had enough confusion with all of the levers on the handlebars. The last thing on my mind was what kind of pedals the bike had. Since then, I have learned that my bike was equipped with “flat” or “platform” pedals.
Not sure just when the subject of “clipless” pedals entered the discussion at the bike shop. As I started riding more, I had problems with my right foot falling off the pedal. My foot was “walking” off the pedal. My stroke left damage on my right side.

The folks at the bike shop and I started discussing my options. I did not feel comfortable being “tied” to a bicycle with special shoes and pedals with bindings. We decided on some toe clips for my pedals.
This solved the problem of the foot falling off the pedal. Now, I started experiencing a new problem. It was difficult to get my size 12 shoes onto the clips. Add to that, it seems that the pedal is always up-side-down. If I slipped my foot out of the clip when riding, the clip would strike the ground.
Back to the drawing board.
The only way to keep my foot walking off the pedal was to tie the foot to the bike – clipless pedals.
“Clipless” pedals. You “clip” into “clipless” pedals. Huh?
Ok, this is the way it has been explained to me. First there are just plain old pedals. The pedals I grew up with. The next iteration is the pedal with toe clips. You slipped your foot/shoe into the toe clip.

Here's where the problem comes in. What do you call the pedals without toe clips which binds pedals to the shoe? Of course “clipless” pedals. Duh...
The first clipless pedals I tried are Shimano reversible pedals. One side of the pedal is a flat pedal, the other side is SPD clipless pedal. Nirvana! – I could clip in when I want, yet flip the pedal riding a flat pedal if needed.
These pedals are great for those of us newbees. A twist of the foot disengages the clip – much like early ski bindings. On my trail bike, I still use those pedals. When I am riding unfamiliar trails, I like to ride with the flat side so that I don;t have to think about unclipping if the trail gets gnarly and near the upper limits of my skill level.
Alas, the reversible pedals are not quite Nirvana. I still have to find which is the clipless side. Murphy's Law saws the flat side is always up when you want to clip-in. The clipless side is always up when you want to ride a flat pedal. Since my hybrid is only ridden on pavement, I equipped that bike with Shimano SPD pedals.

It didn't take much time before I also converted my hardtail to clipless pedals. The one exception is when I change the hardtail into my snow/ice bike. In the cold temperatures I like to ride wearing warmer hiking boots. Then, the hardtrail gets reversible or flat pedals.
When I bought my road bike, I had the bike shop install SPD pedals. OH! And my shoes – I only have mountain bike shoes. Sorry purists – not ready to spring a second pair of shoes for riding my road bike.

Doing the Off-Leash Thing!

It's been nippy and foggy here, but it only makes me friskier. So when Sierra Rose's mama invited me to play in the huge outdoor arena at the local fairgrounds, I woofed a resounding Yeah, Baby!
When Sierra and I get going, the hoomans wonder if we're fighting, heheh!
Naw... we are emphatically NOT!!!
But Sierra does a lot of bitey-face work and she is very good at it!
She's also fast and likes to chase moi!
I do what I can to accomodate her wishes!
But... occasionally, I'll do my own interpretation of "snaggling"!
En garde!

Then we kissie-face and make up!

Chelveston, Stanwick - circular

Led by Barry, with Gordon and Eddie and me. Weather dry but grey - some muddy fields. Almost 8 miles in all.

We started from the Red Lion in Chelveston, and walked for a short distance towards Higham Ferrers. The footpath was on the right hand side of the road and took us through a field, and down to Water Lane.

We crossed this road a little way uphill of a ford, and followed the path west through a ploughed field, and then turned left after crossing the stream via a footbridge, alongside some trees, to follow the edges of a couple of fields with horses. The path followed the course of the stream as far as Stanwick Road, which we crossed. Still close to this stream we carried on to the A45. The stream goes underneath the road through a culvert. No such luck for people though. Luckily it's dual carriageway, and with a little patience we crossed over.

We continued north west at the edge of woodland around the gravel pits until we emerged on to the old main road (A6). From here the viaduct carrying the current trunk road is visible. We turned right and followed the road round , over the old railway track and almost to the roundabout near the present Kettering Town football ground. Just before Diamond Road, we turned right on to the marked Nene Way, and followed the path along Marsh Lane as far as the lock on the Nene Navigation. Around here is the Irthlingborough activity centre - and today it was full of activites - mountain biking, climbing and canoeing. We continued to follow the Nene Way, past a footbridge, with 'No Entry' signs and on to the next footbridge.

From the footbridge the Nene looked uninviting today

Here we left the Nene Way, and turned right over the bridge towards another play area with a zip wire, and a bench where we sat for our break.

Time for a break?

We turned right after the footbridge, and followed the path towards the visitor centre, though one small diversion was irresistible.





When we met the disused railway track, we turned right to Stanwick Lakes Visitor Centre, and out via the road to the roundabout on the A45 and the road to Stanwick.

We decided to walk through the village, rather than take a path right next to the main road.

At the church we went straight on, past the school then turned left when we reached the Chelveston Road. After a couple of hundred yards, just before a small cemetery, we took a footpath to the right, leading south along a farm road. When the road swung right we went straight on, then turned left when we met another signed footpath. This hugged the edge of the field. At the corner there were two huge pipes, and we turned right and went as far as the next field corner, where we turned left into the next field

A small deviation from the mapped route here - not helped by the waymarker, which indicated slightly across the field. We'd have done better following the field edge for a short distance before heading diagonally and slightly uphill to a gap in the hedge, and the footpath sign.



From here it wasn't far to the pub, where we went wild with 3 J2Os, a lemonade and a game of pool, before returning home.

Bread

Tasty, if not beautiful
I don't know where my husband comes up with some of his ideas. He somehow got it into his head that he had to make bread. Or rather, that we had to make bread.
One of the scary things about getting older is some of the things that just pop out of your mouth, like "It has been 25 years since I made bread." The first time I said such an old-person thing I really shocked myself.
But it's true. Back then I was living alone for the first time, in that apartment with no air conditioning across from Vulcan's bare backside. Back before the internets. Before VCRs, or at least before most people could afford them. Due to scheduling mixups I wound up with a lot of free time that quarter. And that's the only time I've ever made bread.
To tell you the truth, it was a lot easier than I remembered. It's also very forgiving. We had an afternoon full of recipe-misreading and recriminations, punctuated with fits of hysterical laughter.
That means another 3 cups of flour, not the original 3 cups!
You said 125°, not 115°!
That's not what I'd call kneading!
When it was done it was delicious. I gorged myself. I ate so much bread that I gave myself a stomachache.
-----
Updated:
Well I was a bit embarrassed to have such a fine baker as Susan see our less-than-perfect loaves, but I think she's just happy to know that folks are baking bread. Go check out one of her special projects, A Year in Bread.

VILLAGE SHOW

Our small village has a tiny village hall. The Village Show brings everyone together and really draws out the hidden competitive spirit which lurks inside most of us.









Our entries were duly signed in and paid for, gossip exchanged with friends, other entries admired (and envied) and we returned home for a welcome cup of tea - only to discover that we had forgotten to take the onions! A quick dash back to the hall soon sorted that one out.

This was my entry for the floral arrangement incorporating fruit - sloe berries, physallis and some cherries.

This is my small floral arrangement.

and this is our box of mixed vegetables. I won't bore you with yet more entries - but we had 16 between us... I'll let you know how we get on after the judging. I have a kitchen which needs cleaning down now - I haven't done so much baking since Christmas!









OK, one final entry - this is my painted stone. I decided to turn it into an island with crashing waves, a lighthouse, and seagulls. I really enjoyed doing it - and George came up with a great suggestion for another one. Unfortunately I didn't have time to paint a second one but once things quieten down I'll do it.





Jonny has arrived in Shanghai - and so has his baggage! His adventure can really begin now.

Twisted

A gnarled and twisted California buckeye. Notice the see-through trunk.

More Bookmarks

I spent much of this morning dusting and cleaning some of the older books on my bookshelves - I found some nice surprises and one rather nasty one.

From the pages of a beautiful old atlas fell some old papers.

One is a 1917 receipt for a baby carriage - an expensive one, for it cost the princely sum of £6-6s-0d...a lot of money in those days



The other, far more interesting, was a bill from a general carter to a Mr Adams, for work undertaken in April, May and July 1908, some in 1909 and then yet more work in August 1910.

The work undertaken was for hauling 'muck'. cutting hay, carting hay, ploughing, more work with hay, carting oats and straw, etc. It took two and a half years for the carter to finally get his money - all that work was done for the sum of £3 10s 0d. I hope he charged interest.

Yet again it shows you just how expensive that baby carriage was!

An old cookery book which I purchased recently had a clutch of four-leaf clovers held within the pages.

Some are a little the worse for wear, but there is no mistaking what they are.

Another book yielded this very pretty card...

...it looks very old and has been hand trimmed around all those delicate flowers and tight corners. It is really pretty and, although fragile, it has been well protected within the book for many years, by the look of it.

I have replaced it, let it be a lovely surprise for someone else further down the line.

I didn't take a photograph of the nasty surprise. It was a large spider which had settled on the back inside cover of a rather nice book...and had been squished at some point. Most annoyingly it has left a large black mark.

Saviour Urliup

Would you ride across this?

We did.
Martin and I decided on adding a little twist to the Numinbah Valley circuit -- we headed out there via Hinze Dam. I have to say this is probably the more interesting way to go as it stands. More hills, and slightly less suburbia than the Nerang route, although how long that will remain the case is difficult to say. It was nice to see some water in Hinze Dam/Advancetown Lake for the first time in quite a while, too. One hopes people don't get to complacent as a result, a couple of dry months (particularly at this time of year), and all the old concerns about running out of water will start to re-appear.



Of course, the southern end of Numinbah Valley is well known for it's mountain landscapes, nestled between Springbrook and Lamington Plateau. What was special today were the extra waterfalls created (even if I did miss one on the descent into the Tweed Valley after crossing the Gap). Of course, owning a ute driver on the descent is also a special moment of satisfaction.



A couple of interesting things down in the Tweed Valley. Checking out Chilcott's Road (a little dirt deviation between Chillingham and Crystal Creek) was definitely a plus -- even the flooded creek at the top of this entry. I think it's going to be a regular fixture on the Tweed Valley circuit, which is in need of having more dirt roads due to the danger of the existing ones being paved or sealed. Also interesting to note that a boy-racer (motor cycle rider with a very small penis) passed me a little closer and a little quicker than he passed Martin. I'm guessing that my conclusions about wearing red (which I was doing) are true. Sometimes I feel like a mad scientist conducting experiments on sub-human motoring primates in this part of the world.
It was hot, reaching 34 degrees C in places, and disgustingly humid. What better way to come home than Urliup? For one thing, it was a couple of degrees cooler (as usual). For another, there were beautiful rainforest streams there in which to cool off. The number of times I've utilised this stretch of dirt road this year is getting ridiculous. Put simply, Urliup is the ride of 2004!

Why we love MEC Toronto Paddlefest

We just returned from MEC Paddlefest Toronto, an intense weekend celebration of canoeing, kayaking, stand up paddle boarding and other human-powered craft.
It's hard to wrap your mind around all that goes on over the course of this two-day event. There are clinics on strokes, rolling, rescues and fitness; booths promoting manufacturers, trips, clubs and causes; boats and gear to demo or buy; and land classes on navigation, weather and boat repair. Boats, paddles, spray skirts and PFDs are provided, and it's all hands-on and helpful.

Participants can take four 90-minute, on-water clinics per day (here, Birgit Kuhle teaches a student to roll)...

...paddle demo boats (here, Liz Burnside, who organized the first MEC Toronto Paddlefest in 2005 and continues to put her all into it, answers questions about the P&H Cetus)...

...and even learn how to fix a damaged hull. Here, Roch Prevost, sales and marketing manager ofNova Craft Canoe, demonstrates boat repair techniques.

For participants, it's a fantastic deal. Courses cost $5 to $10 apiece, and there are lots of freebies (water bottles, Clif Bars, Larabars). The only way to measure attendance is in blue wristbands (which signify that participants have signed a liability waiver). This year, more than 1,500 wrist bands were dispensed.
For us, it's an opportunity for cross-pollination of coaching ideas with colleagues in Paddle Canada. After a day of teaching, we spend the evenings talking shop with Erik Ogaard of Harbourfront Kayak and Canoe School, Michael Pardy of SKILS, Kelly Blades of P&H (not from Canada, but a fixture at this fest), David Johnston of Paddlinginstructor.com, and a host of other top-notch instructors from all over Canada.

Erik Ogaard leads a paddling fitness class.

Dympna Hayes of Learntokayak.ca and Michael Pardy of SKILS evaluate strokes during a video analysis class.

David Johnston teaches a weather class.

Kelly Blades keeps it light.

But it's more than that. It's also a chance to work with an extraordinarily diverse groups of students. The range of ages and ethnicities at MEC Toronto Paddlefest is greater than at any other symposium where we've taught, and their determination and enthusiasm are inspiring.

A dragonboat departs from the beach.

Even the tiniest paddlers could demo boats that fit.

The range of participants is remarkable.

At the start of class, many students are wobbly and uncertain; by the end they are sitting up straight and empowered. Whether they've learned to edge, made progress on a roll, figured out how to rescue a capsized paddler, or discovered how much they love to paddle, they are elated and appreciative. For a coach, that's the ultimate reward.

Success!

The MEC staff members are everywhere, registering students for classes, answering questions, locating needed gear, moving boats, and generally making the event run smoothly. They're the magicians behind the curtain, fooling us into thinking it's no big deal to line a beach with upwards of 400 boats, paddles and PFDs; erect booths along the sidewalk; slap wristbands on more than 1,000 wrists; and troubleshoot the inevitable issues that arise during a weekend festival. On Sunday afternoon, when everyone else drove off to dinner, they were the ones who kept working until the wee hours of the morning.

After loading 400 boats, MEC staff collected all the signage, boxed all the materials, and transported it all back to the store.

It's a remarkable paddlefest in so many ways: size, organization and impact. We're already looking forward to returning next year.