Dill Flower

These are clusters of dill flowers. Each of the tiny yellow dots is a tiny dill flower. There are hundreds on each of the clusters.

You Ride a Bike, Don't You?

I was headed toward the subway platform, lost in thought, when a construction worker shouted this to me as he walked past - rhetorically and with a good-natured smile, almost as if in greeting."You ride a bike, don't you!"



For a moment I wondered how he knew. I do not carry a bicycle helmet around. Neither do I have a U-Lock sticking out of my back pocket. Nor do I wear t-shirts with pictures of bicycles or bicycle slogans on them. And then I remembered: I was "wearing" a wheelset. A full wheelset, with tires attached. I was bringing the wheels to Framingham - an hour long trip on subway and commuter rail - and rigged up a system inspired by carrying my skates around.





Having tied the wheels together with a rope, I then slung them over my left shoulder as if the wheels were a handbag and the rope was a shoulder strap. It was surprisingly comfortable and I could hardly feel the weight, which is why I forgot about the wheels when the stranger addressed me.



Something similar happened yesterday, when I wrangled a floor pump into my handbag and walked to my art studio with 1/3 of the large, orange pump sticking out. When I stopped for a coffee on the way, the person behind me in line startled me by saying "That's quite a pump you got there!" Once I realised what he meant, I considered explaining that my hand-held pump does not fit Shrader valves. But thankfully it was my turn to order coffee just then and the person was spared that narrative.



What is the most unusual thing you've carried off the bike that distinguished you as a cyclist?

She was the chief cook, I was the dish washer.

About 1958, probably influenced somewhat by her brother, William Hale Brubaker, and her uncle, Maurice James Wise, who both owned restaurants, my grandmother became manager of Miller's Ice Cream Store located at Five Points on Goshen Road in Fort Wayne. A few years later she moved to North Webster and opened "The Dairy Bar" which provided jobs for several family members, myself included.

My grandmother in the kitchen of the Dairy Bar.
Caption written by grandma for the picture below.
A small horseshoe shaped bar surrounded by 10 stools was positioned just outside the door to the kitchen, far right. It was the most popular spot in the Dairy Bar. Shown above were customers Helen Ravely and her daughter Jane, then Grandma and my mother, I'm not sure who the girl next to mom is, could be Wanda Wysong, but the one on the right is Beverly Penrod.

Grandma opened the restaurant every morning at 5 a.m. in the summer and 6 o'clock in the winter. While breakfast was being served she made the pies (some of the best!) and preparations were underway for the daily lunch special. Swiss steak, fried chicken, liver and onions, beef heart, ham and beans - just a few of her specialties. Sunday was the really busy day with the after-church crowd starting about 11 a.m. and continuing through until about 2 o'clock.

Closing time during the winter was 9 p.m. while in the summer the restaurant stayed open until 11 o'clock. It usually took another hour to get the place cleaned before we could go home. I did not enjoy working the late shift, or the morning shift for that matter! For the first few years (before I legally became old enough to work) I cleared tables and washed dishes, eventually moving up to waitress and finally grill cook. I peeled a lot of potatoes and did prep work, but grandma and mom were the ones that cooked up the daily specials. It was by no means an easy job.

Notice the prices for breakfast items:

Ham or Bacon & Eggs, toast, coffee 75¢
2 Eggs, toast, coffee 40¢
a glass of fruit juice was 15¢

Contributed to the "they worked hard for the family" edition of Smile for the Camera.

Sunset through the trees

November 8, ..Versailles State Park, Versailles, Indiana

Old Truck

On the edge of the meadow where the logging camp used to Lee and Tuffee check out the old truck.

Nomic, Quark and Ergo low profile Hammers?

"Colin Haley photo of Bjørn-Eivind Årtun on their new route, Dracula, Mt Foraker, June ."



Finally!



At Bjørn-Eivind Årtun's suggestion afterhissuccessful '10 Alaskan season, we have redesigned the C-T Nomic hammer to make it even lighter with a 4mm hammer face instead of the previous 7mm face. The new hammer will also fit the newest Petzl Nomic, Quark or Ero tool heads and the newest picks cut for a hammer or adze. The hammer face is thinner to shave some weight andbalance betterbut the hammer still gives complete coverage to the back of the Nomic.



We areFINALLY shipping them AGAIN!



























This hamemr will fit the previous and current production Nomic, the new Quark and the new Ergo.

With the 7mm hammer Ipreferred aone hammer set up. The newest 4mm hammers have changed that. The balance is betterwith the 4mm hammers.A technical tool like the Nomic will never be ideal for pounding pins (that won't change) because of their large clearance of the handle shape, but our smaller profile hammers certainly make it a lot easier and save the head of the tools from damage. They are easy to attach with perfect fit and finish.



The C-T makes the newstQuark an even better (sweet!) tool for all technical climbing.



For long committing alpine climbs they are a minimalistic option that works. On the scrappy mixed route where you need to pound the occasional pin or your own tool, they work.



Our current 4mm hammers *easily* fit the newest picks from Petzl. They are CNC machined from bar stock chromoly steel and then heat treated to hammer hardness and hand finished in our shop.



Not all Petzl heads are created equally. I have found a few that require very minor hand fitting the pick and hammer with a file. It won't take much and is easy to do. If you can sharpen a pick any fitting required will be easy. The new Petzl picks require cutting the back off the hammer interface from .15" to .04" on the bolt hole. Again easily done with a hand file. Just cut enough material to line up the bolt hole on hammer and pick. You want to be just shy of the bolt hole when done. Way easier than it looks or sounds.









Hammers are$60 ea. These willfit the current production picks and is now even lighter with a 4mm hammer face...@30g per hammer and much easier to fit than the Petzl offering



Buy them now while I have them in stock and ready to ship. We do fourproduction runs a year and generally sell every run out before the next.



More here:



http://coldthistletools.blogspot.com//08/ice-climbing-gear.html

Zipcar... Not at All Like Bikeshare

So, we have finally signed up for Zipcar, and I thought it might be useful to share my impressions. While I had imagined a motorised version of a bikeshare program, Zipcar is a different thing entirely.



Here is how it works: First you buy a yearly membership. It is worth noting that some employers have programs for employees to try it free, which was the case with us - but otherwise it's $60 per year plus a $25 application fee (so essentially you pay $85 to sign up). You are then able to rent a Zipcar by the hour at rates that start at $7.50 per hour. The rate depends on the type of car you need. So, for instance, a compact sedan might be $7.50, but a truck or SUV would be more like $12. You can also rent a Zipcar for an entire day, and the daily rates start from $69. To use a car you must reserve it, which can be done online or via smartphone. You specify in advance the exact time you will be getting and returning the car, and when finished, you must return the car to the same location from which you got it.



I can see how this system would be useful for those who need a car for short and pre-planned trips to the grocery/ hardware/ furniture store, or for meetings with clients that are short and finite in nature. However, our needs are different and there is no way Zipcar would work for us in most circumstances.



Scenario 1: We need to go to our photo studio or to a photoshoot in a far-off location, and to bring a bunch of enormous equipment with us. We will then be staying there for 5 hours working, maybe longer - depends how it goes. And it's the weekend.



Problems: We'd have to rent the car for en entire day, because at the hourly rate it would not be worth it. Either way, the rate would be quite high, because we'd need a large vehicle. Additionally Zipcar's weekend rates are higher than weekday rates, which would make the fee greater still. Car rental makes more sense than Zipcar.



Scenario 2: There is an urgent situation and we need a car right away.



Problems: We check the Zipcar reservation site and there are no cars available in any locations within 2 miles from us for the next hour and a half (This is true: I just checked). We also do not know for how long we need the car - could be 45 minutes, or could be 3 hours.A taxi makes more sense than Zipcar.



So... since 90% of the times we need a car, it is one of the above scenarios, Zipcar is not really the right choice for us. However, I think that if Zipcar worked more like a bikeshare program, it could be more useful for everyone.In many areas, there is a dense grid of Zipcar locations - so why not make it so that a car can be checked out from one location and returned to another? I am sure there are good logistical reasons why this is not done, and as always no system is perfect. I hope this was useful for those considering a Zipcar membership and wondering how the system works.

Gilman Bridge

these are views from the Gilman Bridge just off the main road going to Jemez Springs. Gilman is an even smaller village. The Jemez Creek flows under the bridge. We stopped to see how well the water was flowing in this time of drought and found it doing ok on this day. I expect it will be really down in a few weeks if we don't get some rain. This water is probably the last of the spring snow melt water.

Autumn Afternoon, Lake Agnes

Along the Superior Hiking Trail near Lutsen, MN. This is from yesterday morning's hike, which was literally a PERFECT day! Sunny, calm and beautiful fall colors. A stark contrast to today's rainy, windy weather.

Speechless? Batman Cave!

Not often I am speechless.Nothing to do with climbing. But this is good.










"The narrow cave, no wider than Alexander is tall, is located in Roca Foradada Mountains in Montserrat, Spain—a location that has inspired this professional Italian Norwegian athlete’s flying dream his whole life. Alexander hopes his success will inspire others not only to ‘climb over their mountains,’ but to also fly right through them!"



http://alexanderpolli.com/

USCG Cutter "Alder"

On my way home today I glanced out over the lake and saw a boat coming through the Susie Islands.... I pulled over and grabbed my camera and attached the telephoto lens. When I looked through the camera and zoomed in on the boat, I could see that it was the United States Coast Guard cutter "Alder", coming from the direction of Thunder Bay. I snapped a few images then went home. Upon some quick research on the internet, I learned that the Alder had gone up to Thunder Bay to break ice for some ships that were still active up there. The Samuel Risley, a Canadian ice breaker that normally handles ice duty in the Thunder Bay harbor, was already busy in Sault St. Marie. How nice of the Alder crew to head up from Duluth and help out in Thunder Bay! When I saw the boat passing through the Susie Islands it was on its way back to Duluth to break ice for the last couple of ships of the season.

Redefining Sunday Mornings

Apologies for the over-abundance of road themed posts lately, but I need to write this down before the details fade, or before I get too embarrassed. This morning, instead of sleeping in like normal people I woke up at 7am to get ready for the Sunday Morning Ride at the Ride Studio Cafe. I have done their Women's Rides, but never the mixed gender Sunday rides. While some have tried to lure me to join, others warned that these rides are faster and more difficult than described. Especially after reading this, I was inclined to believe the latter and sensibly steered clear. So why now? Well, I need to train for the Hell's Gate Hundred and time is running out. And also these people convinced me that I could do it. With a straight face they said: "Oh you can definitely do it." And I believed them - figuring that since they were designated to lead the ride this weekend, they ought to know.




So, could I do it? That really depends of your definition of that concept. I mean,I finished the ride. I didn't crash. I didn't walk uphill. I didn't throw up or cry (though I came close). So in that sense I guess I did it. But it was such a humiliating struggle, that I can hardly think of it as an accomplishment. It was worse even than my first paceline ride last May, when I showed up on a touring bike and everybody else rode racing bikes. Only this time I did not have the "slow bike" excuse - it was all me. At least now I know where I stand.




When I left the house this morning it was 25°F outside with a brutal headwind. Of all the mild Sundays we've had this winter, I just had to choose this one. As I pedaled the 10 miles to the ride's start my eyes were watering and my lungs were burning; doing this was beginning to seem like a terrible idea. But I'd already told people I was coming and didn't want to back out.




As cyclists arrived bundled up and in good spirits, I felt more relaxed.By the time we got ready to ride, it warmed up to 30°F and the sunny morning made me optimistic. "This will be just like the Women's Rides," I told myself, "only with men." There were only 4 of us in the slower group; this was going to be fun and social.




Trying to analyse it in retrospect, I am not sure what exactly made this ride so difficult for me. It was probably a little bit of everything. The speed in itself would have been fine, if it weren't for the headwinds we were continuously assaulted with. The hills would have been fine, if there weren't so many of them. It was also difficult to breathe the cold air while already struggling to breathe from exertion.




Werode 34 miles through the towns of Lexington, Weston, Wayland, Sudbury and Lincoln. We climbed two substantial hills, with lots of littler hills in between. I was without a doubt the weakest member of our group, and on hills this was especially apparent. I wheezed. I whimpered. I swore out loud. I almost fainted from pushing myself to try and keep up. And still I lagged behind. My legs felt like lead.Flats and downhills did not offer much respite, since I had to work harder than everyone else to keep up the pace. My face was bright red from shame and effort.




I employed various coping techniques to get through the ride. At one point, I mentally talked myself through it. "It's okay... Pedal, don't think... Look at the pretty trees... Focus on the wheel in front of you... What doesn't kill you makes you stronger..." After that stopped working, I began to play Bach in my head until the repetitive harpsichord pieces started to feel like a seizure. Then I tried to separate my mind from the physicality of what I was doing, as if it were happening to somebody else. Some time after that delirium set in and I don't remember anymore.




At some point - I think this must have been closer to the beginning - something really cool happened. The faster group caught up with us and "swallowed us" before speeding away. I have never experienced this before and it wasn't the same as merely riding in a group. Suddenly, the faster cyclists were ...everywhere. On my right, on my left, in front, behind - some seemingly no more than an inch away. I felt carried along, swept away - it was scary and exciting at the same time. "Like a school of fish" said a rider in our group later. Is this a taste of what racing is like?




When we finished the ride I could hardly walk. I vaguely recall being hugged and given high-fives as I rapidly chewed a croissant. I had done a Sunday Morning Ride. It was hard, and it was embarrassing, and I will do it again. I rode 55 miles total by the time I got home. Sunday mornings will never be the same.

Poor Van Dora ...

Wednesday, March 7th - - My decision to leave Salt Lake City yesterday morning was made the previous week. I was ready to go after five weeks researching in Genea-Mecca but in hindsight perhaps I should have waited a few more days... I was headed to California but high winds with strong gusts were forecast for all of Nevada (and much of the west) for the next two days. I could take the northern route and get into the snow storm that was predicted and coming towards Salt Lake City. Or I could take the southern route through Las Vegas then west. After checking the weather reports before leaving yesterday morning I decided the safest route would be to go south.



I haven't checked to see what the weather was like along I-80 so I don't know if my chosen route (I-15 south) was the best or safest! But I do know it sure wasn't an easy day of driving! It wasn't too bad until I got about half way to St. George, which is about 300 miles south of Salt Lake City, when the winds really picked up. By the time I got to St. George, it was definitely two-handed white-knuckle driving! Then when I got into Nevada, there were times when visibility was extremely limited due to the blowing sand. There was an amazing amount of tumbleweeds blowing down the highway too, as well as plastic bags and bottles and various other debris.



My “plan” had been to stop at Valley of Fire State Park for the night, which is about 40 miles north of Las Vegas. But there was so much sand and dirt and gravel being blown about that I decided to continue on south. I stopped just north of Las Vegas for gas and had a really rough time trying to stand in one spot to pump the gas.



I made it through Las Vegas before the rush hour and drove the 50 miles or so west to Pahrump where I wimped out and spent the night at a motel. At around five o'clock or so we had a little rain added to the wind and I was glad that I was inside, safe and dry. I learned later on the news that the wind had been steady at about 30 mph most of the day with gusts up to 75 mph – no wonder my right arm and shoulder was sore!





Poor Van Dora. She needs a bath! This is what happens when you drive in blowing sand then a little rain comes along... I didn't really think the van was all that dirty when I got out at the motel. After the rain, all of the other cars in the parking lot were in this same condition, which means that as the rain fell it must have picked up some of the sand and dust in the air. I think it was basically raining mud, at least for a short time.





Van Dora looks worse now than she did traveling on the dirt roads in Alaska!

Last Woman Standing

Pushing my bike uphill, I am high off the ground and high on happiness.




"Look, look! I can stand out of the saddle!"




My riding companion's face registers confusion, then bewildered comprehension.




"Oh my God. You mean all this time you couldn't?!"

"Nope!"




Funny that she hadn't noticed - although many people I ride with don't seem to notice my deficiencies in cycling skills; I guess I find ways to disguise them. But privately I remain acutely aware of those deficiencies. And ever since I started riding as an adult, I've been trying to master this particular "skill" - something most riders seem to take for granted as just being part of riding a bike. Standing up when a gear feels too high is simply the natural thing to do for them. Pedal sitting, pedal standing, what's the difference?




For me there was a big difference. Since childhood, I've had problems with balance and proprioception (the awareness of one's body in space), both of which made riding a bike in anything but a rudimentary manner seem unattainable. 4 years ago, I could hardly swing a leg over a top tube without toppling over. But my irrational love of cycling made me persistent. Things are much better now than they used to be, to the point that I can almost pass for "normal" on a roadbike - all the more reason my few remaining difficulties are so frustrating.




So what was the problem getting out of the saddle?.. The physical memory is disappearing now, but try to imagine this: Whenever I'd try to stand up, I would lose the sense of where I was in relation to both the bike and the ground. Not only did I have no intuitive notion of how to hold my body up when no longer seated, but I'd start to experience general disorientation and mild vertigo. Not surprisingly, these sensations would make me anxious, which in turn made the whole thing worse; a vicious cycle.Verbal instructions from well-meaning riding companions did not help. This was obviously just something I needed to work on myself. And I did keep trying.




But the first break-through came when I wasn't trying at all. It was a couple of months ago. I was riding an Xtracycle Radishone day, up a gentle hill. Just before I was about to reach the top, I stood up and leaned forward instead of downshifting. My mind was elsewhere and the whole thing was unintentional; it just happened. After I realised what I'd done, I was so happy I almost had to pull over on the side of the road to laugh or cry or something. My mind was blown!I tried it again later, this time intentionally. It was not quite as natural as the first time. I was jerky in my movements and my legs grew tired quickly,but for a few pedal strokes at a time it worked.




Several days later came the 300K brevet. I was losing time on a long climb, and in a moment of frustration I tried standing up again so that I could push a bigger gear. This did not feel the same as it did on the Xtracycle and I nearly fell off my bike. After that I decided to give my standing attempts a little rest.




And I did, until one day - on my roadbike in Northern Ireland - it "just happened" again on its own. I simply stood up, absent-mindedly on a short hill. This time I decided to harness whatever impulse had enabled me to do this. Continuing to ride on rolling terrain I stood up again and again, rather than switching gears, until I began to trust that I could do it. After a week of this, I was no longer hesitant or nervous to stand up at will.




A few days ago I pedaled over to County Tyroneto visit a friend. It was a 100 mile day with around 6,000 feet of climbing over the "shoulders" of the Sperrins mountain range. I stood up whenever I wanted, and finally, in the course of this ride, it began to feel as I imagine it's felt to other riders all along - normal.




One thing I realise now, is that in addition to whatever balance issues were involved, another problem was weak legs. At first my legs would start to quiver after just a short time out of the saddle; I felt like one of those newborn colts learning to walk. On a serious hill, I still get worn out quickly when standing. So even though thebalance and proprioceptionproblems are gone, I continue to practice just to develop more leg strength. And finesse. At the moment, my technique is not exactly elegant. I don't throw the bike from side to side needlessly, but my pedal strokes are jerky and awkward compared to how I pedal seated.




As my last two years of roadcycling have shown, it is possible to do even long distance rides without ever standing out of the saddle. And there are, after all, experienced riders who simply prefer not to stand. I do not know whether I am one of them yet. But once I form a preference, it will be exactly that - a preference, and not a limitation.

Roadrunner & Horned Toad

This is the full view of the roadrunner with the horned toad climbing up the tree truck.

A Morning Visitor

Thursday, September 20th - - As I was taking down the tent, then waiting for it and the tarp to get dry, I saw movement down on the beach - an eagle had landed. The tide was low and the eagle was apparently looking for some little tidbit in the detritus along the shore. I quietly got the camera out of the van and slowly approached the edge of the bank overlooking the bay and was able to get off several shots before the eagle took off. . . these are cropped versions of the original images.

A Tale of Two Pensioners

A little over a year ago (before NARA raised their prices) I ordered the Civil War Pension files for three of my relatives (my 2nd great granduncle Samuel Fisher, Aaron Conroy the husband of my 2nd great grandaunt Lydia Fisher, and for Eli Yarian who is my 2nd great grandfather). They all have lots of useful and interesting information.

One problem though. I ordered the file for the wrong Samuel Fisher ;-(

Of course, I didn't know that until I opened the package from NARA. I had searched the Civil War Pension Cards on Footnote. I saw the card for Samuel Fisher that had served in Co. A 9th Regiment, Kansas Cavalry and ordered the file.

Anyway, after I got the NARA package I located the pension card for the other Samuel Fisher, the one I really wanted. The weird thing is that at the bottom of both of their pension cards it makes reference to the "other" Samuel. I just didn't see it. Or else I ignored the information. Not only that, the one I wanted also included his date of death, which matched my information. Sure wish I had clicked through a few more cards though. . .

But the government got them mixed up back in 1894, so maybe I shouldn't feel so bad. The moral of the story is don't assume there is only one person with the right name in the right unit (even though its wrong), or in the right location. I still haven't ordered the file on the "right" Samuel Fisher, primarily because of the cost. (I wonder how long it will be before Footnote has the Civil War Pension files online?)

On October 5, 1891 the Samuel Fisher who resided at Alfred in Douglas County, Kansas (the one who is my relative) filed an application (1064047) for pension based on his service in Co. A of the 9th Regiment Kansas Infantry for which he received pension certificate 1028602. Card shown above, image from footnote.

On March 3, 1894 the Samuel Fisher who resided at Osceola, Missouri filed application 1260663 based on his service in Co. B 9th Reg't Provisional Mo. Mil. [Missouri Militia]. He received pension certificate 890462 that was based on the service of the Kansas Samuel. Image from footnote.

If anyone out there is related to the Samuel Fisher described below, I'd be happy to send the file to you. . . it's about 100 pages.

Samuel Fisher resided in Lowery City, St. Clair, Missouri when he filed his application in August 1894. He was 67 years old and asked for a pension due to rheumatism and general debility. He stated that he had served in three different regiments of Missouri Militia. His original declaration also stated he served in the 9th Kansas Cavalry though he later said he didn't know how that got included.

On June 7th 1900, Missouri Samuel was living in Trenton, Hitchcock county, Nebraska. A special examination was held on that date. In his deposition, Samuel states that he was 74 years old on the 17th day of last March. He is a farmer and resides about five miles southeast of Trenton. He was born in Montgomery County, Kentucky near Mt. Sterling. In the fall of 1859 he moved to Grundy County, Missouri. Twelve years ago he moved to St. Clair, Missouri and in January 1899 moved to Hitchcock County, Nebraska.

He served six months in Co. E 9th Mo. Provisional Cavalry. The regiment was on duty at Chillicothe, Missouri doing guard duty and moving around Missouri guarding block houses and rail roads. In 1863 he was called to duty in Co. D 2nd Batt'n Mo. S.M. Cav. and also served in Co. E 8th Reg't Mo. State Militia. He states that he never served in Co. A 9th Kansas Cavalry. On August 9, 1894 he received a pension of $10 and saw that his certificate was for Co. A 9th Kans. Cav. and thought it was just a mistake. It was noticed when he was changed to the Des Moines, Iowa agency a short time ago.

He goes on to say that he has been married twice. First to Mary Dennis in Bass County, Kentucky in March of 1853. He thinks she died in 1872 in Grundy County, Missouri. He next married his present wife, Elizabeth Blue, on January 20, 1880 in Livingston County, Missouri. She had been married once before to John Mason who "disappeared and never could be found and my wife obtained a divorce from him about 1878 or 1879".

Samuel and Elizabeth have three children under the age of 16 years (dates recorded in the family bible): Otto Fisher, born Oct. 9, 1884; Everett Fisher, born Oct. 9, 1886; Edna M. Fisher, born Nov. 20, 1890. Witnesses to the deposition were Elizabeth A. Fisher and Richard Fisher.

I wish my ancestors were as easy to find in the census records as this Samuel was. Of course, it helps to know where he was. . .

In 1850, Samuel Fisher was a 22 year old farmer living in Division 2, Bath County, Kentucky. In his household was Mary Fisher, age 20; Levi Fisher, age 3/12; and John J. Fisher, age 10. All were born in Kentucky.

Samuel Fisher was 32 years old and living in Trenton township, Grundy county, Missouri in 1860. He was a farmer with a personal estate valued at $250. In the household was Mary, age 30; Martha, 8; Lydia, 5; Levi, 10; Moses, 3; and Moses, age 44, a farmer with real estate valued at $4000 and a personal estate of $500. Everyone except Martha was born in Kentucky, she was born in Indiana.

In 1870, Samuel Fisher was found in Liberty Township, Grundy County, Missouri. He was 44 years old, a farmer, real estate valued at $1600 and a personal estate valued at $900. He had been born in Kentucky. There were six children listed in the household, no wife: Martha, age 18, born Indiana; Lyddia, 15, born Kentucky; Moses, 12, born Kentucky; Mary, 9; John, 6; and Jesse J., 3. The last three were born in Missouri.

Samuel Fisher, age 53, was found in Lincoln Township, Grundy County, Missouri in 1880. He was a farmer, born in Kentucky. Listed with him was his 19 year old daughter, Mary M. and two sons, John R., age 15 and Jesse J., age 12. Also a 13 year old female with no relationship given - Annie Mason, age 13. His children and Annie were all born in Missouri.

The 1900 census for Grant Precinct, Hitchcock County, Nebraska shows Samuel Fisher, age 73, born June 1826 in Missouri, married 28 years, his parents were born in Kentucky, and he was a farmer. Listed in the household are: Betsey R., wife, born June 1880, age 59, had 12 children with 7 living; Richard, son, born Nov 1882, age 17; Otto, son born Oct 1885, age 14; Everett, daugt [sic, sex is male], born Oct 1886, age 13; and Edna, daughter, born Nov 1889, age 10. Betsey and the children were all born in Missouri.

Now, back to the pension file: In the letter submitted by the special examiner it states that Samuel "is drawing pension based upon the service of another man, although it is the service stated in his original declaration. How he came to hit upon that service is not clear, but there is nothing at this state of the investigation that indicates design or criminal intent."

It was recommended that his claim should be put on hold until it could be determined if the pensioner "was in the U. S. Service or not." For possible use in identification, a tintype picture of the man, taken about 20 years ago, was obtained, which is to be returned to the claimant. The examiner goes on to say "I do not put much reliance upon some of his statements regarding his services as he seemed to be somewhat muddled on this question." The examiner also recommended that the files of the two Samuel Fisher's should be separated to help eliminate future confusion. (Duh!)

On November 17, 1900 a letter was sent to Samuel Fisher at Trenton, Nebraska informing him that he would be dropped from the pension rolls because he was not the same Samuel Fisher who had served in Company A of the 9th Regiment Kansas Cavalry. He was officially dropped from the rolls on January 7, 1901 though he continued his battle for another four years. On October 11, 1905 his application was rejected "for the reason that the claimant has no title to pension. . . he did not render ninety days military service during the War of the Rebellion."

Good Times in Never Never Land (5.10a), Battling the Balrog (5.10b), and more!

(Photo: Making the first crux move just off the deck on Absurdland (5.8).)




The day after Thanksgiving is often a great day in the Gunks. The weather is frequently cooperative, and the cliffs are always pretty empty.




This year we had a great time, climbing in shirtsleeves and light jackets, although it was a bit chilly when we first set out. Gail and I climbed in a party of three with Julia, a friend of Gail's with whom I hadn't climbed before. During the drive up, I found out that Julia is a lot like me, working through all the classic 5.9's in the Gunks and setting her sights on the 5.10's.




I knew this might well be my last day of climbing in , so I hoped to get on at least one 5.10.




But first we had to find a good warm-up climb. I suggested Absurdland (5.8), a great single-pitch route I hadn't been on in . I had taken a brief hang at the second crux way back in when I led the climb onsight, and didn't go back until , when I easilyfollowed Maryana up it. I really enjoyed it last year and wanted to go back to send it on lead, which I was confident was well within my abilities nowadays.




The climb reminds me of the first pitch of Son of Easy O (5.8). In both climbs the first 20 feet contain steep, somewhat thin moves up a crack, and then both climbs ease off to beautiful, lower-angled face climbing. On Absurdland the two crux moves come pretty fast off the ground. Both moves are well-protected and maybe a little stiff for 5.8. (The climb has at times been rated an easy 5.9.)




I had no trouble with the cruxes this time around, though I could see why I took that hang back in . The second crux is pumpy and if you aren't confident enough to move right away it is difficult to arrange a rest stance there. There is good pro right at your chin so my advice is that you just go for it! After that move it's all gravy.








(Photo: Julia starting up Gory Thumb (5.9).)




Absurdland ended up setting the agenda for the rest of the day. Everything else we did was nearby.




Julia picked Gory Thumb (5.9) for her first lead. I was glad she selected it because I'd never done it before. I had looked at it and rejected it because it seemed like a squeezed-in route (next to Raunchy and Wild Horses) without too much too offer. I thought the crux thin crack on the white face about 40 feet up would be over in one move, and that the rest of the climb would be a waste of time. Also I was concerned about the pro down low.




But Julia found a really good nut right after the start. (I struggled to remove it.) And I ended up enjoying the pitch. The initial moves are much easier than 5.9 but they are interesting. Up above, the crux is good and well-protected with small wires. You can finish as Julia did by continuing straight up above the crack to an easy fault, or you can contrive to prolong the real climbing by stepping left and making a couple of slab moves up to the ledge, which is what I did (at Gail's suggestion) as the second. Nice pitch. Maybe a touch easy for 5.9? Swain has it as 5.8+.








(Photo: Thin moves right from the jump on Never Never Land (5.10a).)




After Gory Thumb it was my turn to lead again and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. My objective was so close, drawing me like a magnet.




Balrog! Balrog! Balrog!




This climb has been on my list all year, which might seem strange because no one thinks it is an "easy" 5.10. At 5.10b many call it a sandbag. The crux is very unusual, featuring a hanging, sloping corner. You have to find a way to reach up to the holds high in the corner (which plays out like a roof problem), and then find some way to get yourself onto the odd, sloping left wall of the corner. But even though this crux is challenging, it is short, and there is an awesome horizontal crack-- it resembles a mail slot-- for pro right at the crux roof. It is a clean fall into the air if you fail. I figured that even if the crux was too hard for me to onsight I should be able to protect it well.




Why not go for it?




I dispensed with the easy early climbing quickly, placing very little gear. Then I found myself at a slab beneath the looming roof. In this slab was a perfect thin vertical seam. Up close, the crux roof looked much scarier than it did from the trail. There was a great-looking undercling hold in the roof and from there I figured I could reach the mail slot on the left side of the hanging corner and throw in a piece. But if I was wrong and fell reaching for the slot I might tumble awkwardly down the slab. I hesitated quite a bit, placing a nut in the seam, then thinking about the move, and then repeating the whole process.




I ended up placing four (!) nuts in the slab before I finally went for it.




I needn't have worried so much about reaching the mail slot. That part turned out to be no problem.




But I struggled with the crux reach afterward, taking a few hangs before I figured the whole thing out. I had great gear. Ultimately I had two cams in the mail slot, a purple Camalot that was solid if a little shallow and a bombproof red Totem Basic (Alien clone). If you place two cams as I did, make sure to leave some room for your hand and a later toe!








(Photo: Julia on Never Never Land (5.10a), before the crux.)






I was disappointed that I didn't onsight Balrog, but I'm pretty sure I can redpoint it in , so long as I nail the reach after the mail slot to the great hold up in the corner. There is no magic to this reach, you just need the confidence that comes from knowing how bomber the hold is. The subsequent move to the left wall is strenuous, but I think I have it all worked out. I will not spell it all out but I will tell you the secret to my beta:




Sometimes, grasshopper, it is better to push than to pull.




I'm not sure but I suspect I might be doing Balrog the hard way.Dick Williams says in his guidebook that the climb is especially rewarding if you can figure out the easier way to do it. After I got back down, Julia struggled with Balrog much as I did, and then Gail schooled the both of us by sailing up it like it was nothing. I was belaying and couldn't quite tell what she did, but it looked very different from my solution. If you are searching for the especially rewarding easy way to do it I'd suggest you reach out to Gail. She knows.




Note: If you are heading up Balrog in the near future, bring some new webbing. The two pieces of webbing that were tied to the belay tree there in late November were both feeling pretty brittle. We went ahead and used the station but in retrospect I wish we'd replaced the webbing.








(Photo: More of Never Never Land (5.10a), juuust beneath the crux.)




Julia was pissed off about Balrog, and she was on a mission for redemption. She decided to get it by leading Never Never Land (5.10a).




This was her first 5.10 lead and I was honored to witness it. Although Never Never Land has an easier rating than Balrog, I think Never Never Land is a much headier lead, with spaced pro and far more sustained climbing.




Gail and Maryana have been pushing me to lead Never Never Land, but I have resisted, both because this kind of thin face climbing isn't my favorite thing and also because in the summer of I toproped it with Gail and (to my enduring shame) I couldn't do the crux move AT ALL. It was a very hot, slimy day, and at the time, in those conditions, I couldn't imagine doing the move cleanly. The crux crimpers were so greasy, the footholdsnonexistent.On that day I fell several times and then gave up, French-freeing the move by pulling on the draw at the bolt.




This time around I was excited to follow Julia up Never Never Land so I could check it out in better conditions without having to lead the climb. I'm afraid that watching her did not make me want to jump on the sharp end. There is a repeated pattern of hard moves above gear that lead to the stances where one can get pro. A fall at any one of these difficult moves would not be horrible, but would send you for a ride. There are one or two such moves before the crux. Then the crux move just after the bolt is well-protected, but you have to run it out to the piton at the next horizontal, which is quite a ways away. Right before the piton is another hard move. After the piton it eases off a touch and the final moves have better pro but it isn't easy by any stretch. The thin face moves continue all the way to the chain anchors.






(Photo: Julia just past the crux of Never Never Land (5.10a). Big crimpin'! Way to go!)



Julia did a great job, handling the whole thing with a calm intensity. There were some tense moments, but she made it to the top without a fall, elated. When it was my turn, I was pleased to send it on toprope. Still I worry about leading it, as there are at least three places where I can see myself falling off if things don't go just right. Whether on lead or on toprope, I should really do more of this type of thin face climbing. All the way up I kept telling myself (and others!) that I hated the climb, but by the time I reached the chains I had to admit I loved it just a little.



We ended our day with a warm-down. I led Cakewalk (5.7), another nearby classic that usually sees action only on its first pitch, which ends at a bolted chain anchor. On my last and only previous trip up Cakewalk I'd gotten lost and wandered into some much more difficult and poorly-protected climbing, from which I'd thankfully emerged unscathed. This time I made sure to go left immediately after the tree and it was nothing but joy. Some nice face climbing wanders up to the obvious, huge right-facing corner. Dick describes the first part of the pitch as a little run out but I found plenty of pro. Then the burly moves up the corner were great fun. Before I knew it I'd reached the chains. The climb, like , was over much too soon.

War of Wealth

Geez, y'all stop collapsing the world financial system, would you?

This is a poster from a 1895 play. I'm not sure if today's equivalent would be War of Wealth, War on Wealth, or War for Wealth.

Wikipedia has a handy reference of Economic disasters in the US that includes 16 incidents labeled "Panics". I guess since the last one was in 1911, somebody thought it was high time for a good old-fashioned panic. Many panics seem to start when the Joe Moneybags of the world try to grow even filthier rich, by means of dodgy schemes designed to swindle everybody else.

-----

Here are a couple of money-saving tips that I learned by accident.

#1: Discounts.
Hubby had a few medical tests a while back (he's fine). The bill was substantial, about $1000. I always feel a little cheesy doing it, but since we have one of those BigNameGasStation credit cards that rebates 1%, well, why not use it. I've learned to tolerate a little cheese.

"Can I pay over the phone with a credit card?"
"Yes. How much would you like to pay?"
"All of it."
"I can offer you a 20% discount for paying the entire amount."
"What!"

I'm sure if I'd written a check, they'd have happily cashed the whole thing.

#2: Look closer.
Counterfeit $10 bills have been passed in Oneonta recently. Who's risking a felony charge for $10?! ("Teenagers" comes to mind.)

This is another thing I love about small-town living. The bank teller not only told me about it, she showed me the bill in question. I would never in a million years have caught this bill as a fake. It just looked and felt like one of the new tens that had already seen a lot of wear.

She told me there were two ways to spot it as a fake: look for the plastic security strip by holding it up to the light, or check that the glossy "10" (in the lower right) changes color when the bill is tilted. But who does that kind of thing for $10 bills? I check the strip on $50s and $100s at craft shows, though it always makes me feel so rude. Hubby's been saying that I need one of those currency-checking pens instead, but the teller told me that counterfeiters now use paper that the pen doesn't detect.

Bottom line, if someone hands you one of the newer bills that seems like it's seen a lot of wear... take a closer look.

In which I am a bad influence

Bwa-ha-ha! If it were a crime, I'd be guilty of aiding and abetting. Two of my friends have new blogs.

My friend Annie is a potter, among other things. Many other things. I've never met anyone so capable. (She comments here sometimes as "weldergirl" so that's one clue.) If you're familiar with Oneonta, Alabama, you've probably visited her downtown shop, where she sells her own beautiful creations as well as other Alabama handcrafts. Including some lovely handmade soap, wink, wink.

She and her husband are building what promises to be an extremely cool passive solar house - with a dogtrot! She's started a blog called Edifice Rex to document it.



My friend Grace is a fellow soapmaker who lives a little north of Birmingham. If you wandered the Pepper Place farmer's market last summer, you may have tried some of her scrumptious-smelling soap.

She's a fellow chicken lover, who's good at keeping me up to date on the antics of Sam - the Rhode Island Red bantam game hen who turned out to be a rooster - and his girls. She has started a blog called Roosterhen Diaries, in which she's committing her hilarious paper journals to the blogosphere.



Go say hi!

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Updated: Oops. I was thinking about my own Big Red when I was writing about Sam and called him a Rhode Island Red. Sorry!

Easy on the Eyes!

After spending nearly six weeks in the dry, mostly brown, desert regions of Texas and California, I left Death Valley this morning. About an hour ago, just west of Tehachapi on California Highway 58, I drove into this wonderful, refreshing area that was definitely easy on the eyes. I didn't realize how much I've missed seeing "green" until I came into this... I stood there alongside the road for abut 15 minutes, just taking it all in. So nice!


I've decided to take a "break" from the desert scene for a few days and am headed for the Coast of California! I'll be joining some friends at the Grand Canyon about the middle of April... For now, I am looking for a State Park near a community with a library with good wifi so I spend some time writing some blog posts and get them scheduled so that I can get caught up. Stay tuned, more posts coming soon, I hope!

This post is coming to you courtesy of McDonalds and AT&T wifi near Bakersfield, California. Moving on now. Will "see" y'all later.

Christmas :: Past - Present - Future

=+==+==+= Christmas Past =+==+==+=



When I was younger, before the teenage years, my family always got together at Christmas time with my mother's sisters and brother and their families – usually at my grandfather's house.



As we got older it became more difficult for all of us to get together at Christmas - there were really too many of us to fit in anyone's home. (My mom had three sisters and one brother and altogether they had 19 children.) Then the years went by all too quickly and we all went our separate ways, some got married and had families of their own, others just went away! But as many of us that could, still got together at Christmas. Sometimes it was just Mom and her siblings, but there was almost always some kind of Christmas gathering.



In 1980, after being diagnosed with cancer and having her leg amputated, my Grandmother decided that it was time for the entire family to get together again for Christmas! My mother and I were living in rural Noble County and the township had a community building that we rented and we made all of the arrangements. By this time there were about 75 family members in four generations.



The biggest family Christmas dinner was held in December of 1983 – 28 years ago! It would be the last time this many of the family was together. I think there were only two cousins who were not able to attend. The picture below was taken at that dinner and includes almost everyone who was there. I was taking the picture. (Better double-click on the picture to see all those smiling faces!)





My grandmother is in the wheelchair (she passed away the following May), her sister Jane is sitting beside her, and my nephew Jason is sitting on grandma's lap. Jason was five years old then; he is now 33 years old and has an eight year old daughter of his own. All of those little kids have grown up and many now have families. It is more than a little sad to think about those who are no longer with us – Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Jane, Uncle Bob, Uncle Walt, Aunt Phyllis, cousin Mike, my sister, and my mother. But it is such a pleasure to think of them and remember the good times we all had together.



=+==+==+= Christmas Present =+==+==+=



Christmas this year was spent in northeast Louisiana with extended family members. Twelve of us gathered together on Christmas Eve to celebrate. After a very good dinner of spicy Jambalaya we moved into the living room to continue one of their traditional events – caroling by telephone! As each family member who could not be present was called we all joined in with a hearty rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” I lost track of how many people were called... East Coast, West Coast, and places in-between as well as one couple who was on their honeymoon on a Caribbean Island (they had gotten married earlier this year) and another couple who was vacationing in Thailand! It was a lot of fun.



=+==+==+= Christmas Future =+==+==+=



Ah, the future. Wouldn't it be great to get all of my first cousins and their families together again? Some of us do maintain contact on Facebook so we have stayed in touch that way. But it isn't the same as being together, in person. Many of that next generation – the cousins' children and grandchildren - have never met some of their cousins. I'm sure that some have no idea how many relatively-close relatives they really have!



Of course, it would be a logistical (and financial) nightmare but I think it would be great fun to meet up, oh, say in Hawaii or perhaps on a cruise ship – someplace warm! Just spend a week together doing various activities and have time to leisurely get caught up on all the family news.



Written for the 113th Edition of the Carnival of Genealogy, "A Charles Dickens Christmas."