Cumberland Island :: The Beach

The trail meanders through the dunes, alternating between a sandy path and boardwalk. A small forest of scrubby trees and brush seems to create a barrier for the shifting sands of the dunes inhibiting their movement and helping to prevent them from encroaching further inland.

The tide was out so there was a large expanse of beach showing. The group of people off to the south was the first and last group I saw walking along the seashore that day. The building in the distance on the right side of the photo is a pulp mill on neighboring Amelia Island. It is the only “blemish” on an otherwise beautiful and distant horizon.

I had been walking along the hard-packed beach for over an hour and in that time had seen only two other people. Now, I was alone on the beach, listening to the surf moving in and out, watching the clouds go by, and being amused by the Sandpipers that scurried to and fro around the edge of the surf, occasionally stopping to grab a little something to eat.

There was hardly any wind and the sun came out for a short time then disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds. The warmth from the brief appearance of the sun was quite welcome though it was comfortable otherwise, especially with the four layers of clothing I wore. Not too cold, if you kept moving.

I noticed a portion of a large tree lying along the outer edge of the beach, near the dunes, and went to investigate. I don't know if the tree had drifted in from the ocean or what but all of the bark had been removed and only stumps remained where branches had been. Conveniently, one end made a very nice seat with two of the stumps creating a nice backrest. It was early afternoon so I sat down to eat my lunch.

Every so often the sun would pop out for a few minutes, brightening the day. To the north patches of blue sky occasionally appeared through the clouds.

But to the south there was a thick layer of clouds, which would eventually block out the sun for the remainder of the day, but not before providing a wonderful palette of blues and grays, along with some marvelous reflections.

The clouds reflected in the thin layer of water coating the sand appears to be steam rising from the surface, giving the beach that “other world” look.

A delicate white feather provides contrast against the gray, wet sand. Shells and other debris left by nature also “littered” the beach. I saw no man-made trash on the Island, so people seem to be heeding the call to “take nothing but pictures and leave nothing but footprints.”

To be continued . . .

Another Big Rock

We found this big rock when we took a snack break while on our drive. This is set back from in the trees across the road from where the Rock Bear is. It can't be seen from the road and is great for exploring. We found lots of holes in it, and a big crack or short tunnel in one end that we could walk through as shown in the posts below. You can find dead trees leaning against them and small bonsai type shrubs and trees growing in and on the rocks. You can get an idea just how big it is when you see me standing in the crack. This shot doesn't show the rock crack from which the photos below were taken as it is on the left side, just out of sight, in this photo. But you can see a sort of crack low on the left side.

Shadow of My Former Self

It's been a strange winter season. In previous years, I'd stop riding "sporty bikes" some time in December, and not start again till late March. Both winters, I would gain about 10lb over that period of relative inactivity, which I'd then easily lose before June. No big deal, and I expected the same to happen this time. Instead, when I took a break from roadcycling a few weeks ago, I began to lose weight. At first I was glad: looking slender instead of dumpy, what's not to like! Must be all that skating and walking.



But deep down I knew that it wasn't true. I was probably losing weight because I was losing the muscle mass I'd built up roadcycling. And that meant that once I did get back on the bike I would be weaker than when I'd left off. Considering that I am doingthis in just over a month, that isn't good. Still, for a woman who has never been an athlete before it is very difficult to break the "weight loss = great!" association. I did not take my own sense of foreboding seriously enough.



...Until I emerged out of hibernation and went on a 12 mile ride in a strong headwind a few days ago. Yikes am I in trouble. Winded, legs hurting, just overall ridiculous. And it's been only weeks off the bike, with some half-hearted trainer attempts in the meantime. Let me tell you, I've never been so unhappy to fit into a smaller jeans size. I want my legs back!

Dark Secret

Last night I posted a picture of a gimlet-sippingbikeyface at dinner, and a reader emailed to ask what bikes we ride when we go out. It would be great, she suggested, to write a post about being out on the town on bikes.



Hmm that does sound nice. But it would be pretty tough. Because the truth is, we didn't ride bikes. Last night our destination was only 15 minutes away and walking just seemed easier. The other week we did the same when going to see a movie. Come to think of it, most of the time we see each other there are no bikes involved. We live in the same neighbourhood and are usually so tired that we stick to local places and walk to them. Does that make us bad bicycle bloggers? Maybe I should have kept this a secret!





When I first began cycling for transportation 3 years ago, I was so excited about it that I would ride everywhere no matter the distance just for the heck of it. I would ride down the block, or to the store around the corner and back. Now that cycling has lost its novelty, it seems too much of a hassle to get my bike out just to ride a short distance. I would rather walk.



In a sense there is some sadness in having lost that beginner's excitement. But I think it also means that I've transitioned to a stage where transportation cycling has become truly normalised. With cycling established as an inherent part of life, I don't feel the need to ride down the block when I can walk. If you've been riding for a while, have you had the same experience?

Modern Times (5.8+) and the Alleged Gunks Sandbag

(Photo: Holy bird poop, Batman!! That block on the High E ledge is really coated with guano at the moment.)



After beginning our day with the amazing double whammy of Erect Direction to CCK Direct, Dana and I started walking down the cliff. Dana was thinking about leading Obstacle Delusion (5.9).



But we didn't make it to Obstacle Delusion. Our journey was cut short at the High E buttress when Dana asked me an innocent question.



"You've done Modern Times, right?"



I had to admit that I had not.



It was a big hole in my climbing resume. Honestly, how can any self-respecting Gunks blogger NOT have climbed Modern Times (5.8+)?



It just never seemed like the right moment, I guess. On October 25, , I had driven to the Gunks determined to climb Modern Times with Nani. But the climb was soaking wet after the previous night's heavy rain, so we went and did Insuhlation (5.9) instead. And you know, dear reader, how that worked out.



Since then I had never made Modern Times a priority. I figured I'd get around to it some day, but whenever I thought about doing it the climb was occupied, or I was with someone who'd done it recently, or (I may as well admit it) it seemed a little too scary.



So there we were, Dana and I, on this beautiful Saturday, standing before the climb. And it was wide open. Dana said I had to do it, and that having just led CCK Direct I would be absolutely fine.



This was just the encouragement I needed.



Dana was up to lead pitch one if I wanted him to. But it was old hat for him so he offered both pitches to me. I was more than willing to lead them both. As I set off on the 5.7 pitch one, I felt a little bit tingly all over. This was a big deal, and we'd just sort of stumbled into it. It hadn't even occurred to me that we might climb Modern Times today, on March 17, right at the start of the season.



Does any other climb have such a reputation for high quality, and for difficulty beyond its grade?



From the ground, it certainly looks terrifying. A gigantic arch guards the top of the cliff. The climber must exit to the right through the roofs at the top of the arch. The moves look huge. And these moves are above big air. It is a sheer drop of hundreds of feet to the ground.



I'd heard all the tips and the rumors. I knew not to get suckered into wasting my energy going up to the distinctive sideways tree that sits above the initial overhang. It was better, I'd heard, to stay low and move to the right. I was also aware that some kind of secret rest supposedly existed in the middle of the overhangs. I had been told, as well, that short people couldn't grab the final shelf without cutting their feet loose. Finally, I recalled hearing something about the finishing mantle being difficult, but couldn't quite remember the details. Would I find it easier to mantle up if I hand-traversed far to the right along the final ledge? Or was there some hidden pebble for my toe that I was supposed to look for?



These issues could wait, since I first had to dispense with pitch 1.



I found this pitch to be kind of humdrum. The climbing is clean and pleasant in much the same way that the 5.4 pitch one of No Glow is clean and pleasant. Which is to say it is rather unremarkable. And it seemed a bit soft to me for 5.7. The little ceiling at the end of the pitch, which I suppose is the crux, is easier in my opinion than the one on first pitch of the neighboring climb The Last Will Be First (5.6). Nothing wrong with the pitch, but nothing to write home about either.





(Photo: I asked Dana to get a photo of me on Modern Times, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt: a blurry shot of the overhang, sans climber. Now I have no proof I actually climbed it!)



Here's another dark secret about Modern Times: pitch two isn't the greatest either, at least until you get to the overhang. All the climbing up until the crux is pretty easy, and the pro isn't optimal. You start up a right-facing corner. I got in a little nut near the bottom. You could put gear at the top of the corner as well, but I chose not to because I didn't want unnecessary drag as I moved to the right. Then as the climb moves towards the top of the arch you ascend a massive left-facing flake, which turns out to be less a flake than a big stack of blocks leaning against the face of the cliff. These blocks probably aren't going anywhere (they are quite large), but still I wasn't thrilled about the idea of placing any pieces in between them, instead finding the few placements I could in the wall to the left and behind the blocks.



If I arrived at the crux wondering what the fuss was all about, my doubts were immediately dispelled by a glance at the next sequence.



The path upward is easy to spot-- I don't know why anyone is suckered into going up to the tree. Probably these tree-huggers know they are making a mistake, but don't wish to confront the alternative: committing to the correct path by leaning waaaaay out over an empty expanse to the first holds, which takes quite the gut check.



I certainly hesitated a bit, though less than I did at the crux of CCK Direct. The pro is great. I placed pieces (with extended slings) in both the undercling crack under the roof and out by the first of the roof holds before I committed to the moves.



And once I leaned out to the first hold, it was on! A quick couple of moves on jugs led to the mid-point, where I was able to place another dynamite cam-- you have a big horizontal and a vertical crack to work with here.



I think this is the "secret rest" spot, and I may even have unlocked the secret by propping up a left foot on a high hold and dropping my knee while I placed a cam. But I didn't stop afterwards to try to contrive a real rest, because it was just one more move to the final overhang. The end was near and there was no reason to wait.



Moving up to the final shelf, I saw absolutely no need to cut the feet-- the footholds were great throughout, actually. And there was no trick to the mantle either, as far as I could tell. There is a great little horizontal crack for a high step at any number of locations. Get your weight over the high foot and push up, people!



I hope that by attempting to dispel a few myths about Modern Times I don't make it sound like the climb is not wonderful. To the contrary, the crux sequence consists of four or five of the most exhilarating moves the Gunks has to offer. I found the crux absolutely thrilling. Once I successfully mantled up to the shelf, I let out the biggest yell ever.



And the shelf onto which you emerge is perhaps the best belay spot in the Gunks. You are still 20 or 30 feet from the top, and you can keep going and belay above in the trees if you like. If you have any doubt about your partner's ability to climb through the roofs, however, you'd be advised to belay from the shelf so you can coach your partner on the art of prussik ascending when he or she falls off and can't get back on.



I had no such doubts about Gunks institution Dana Bartlett, of course, but I couldn't resist building a belay and having a seat on this perfect little park bench in the sky. Sitting there, I could reflect on the scenery and the sensational climbs we'd already knocked off on this great early season Saturday.





(Photo: Looking down pitch one of Carbs and Caffeine, which is either 5.8 or 5.9-, depending on who you believe.)



As I sat there reflecting, I decided that Modern Times is not a sandbag at 5.8+. I came to the conclusion that it was easier for me than CCK Direct so I guessed the 5.8+ was about right. The crux of Modern Times also features the type of climbing (overhanging jugs) that we gym climbers of today are accustomed to, so really the rating should be uncontroversial. I think the only reason people consider it such a sandbag is its rather incredible position and exposure, which don't exactly make the moves more difficult but which certainly add to the overall challenge.



I actually think I experienced two bigger 5.8 sandbags in the very same weekend I climbed Modern Times.



The first was Dirty Gerdie, the supposed 5.8+ that ascends the middle of the face of Gerdie Block. I had put a toprope over this climb twice before, the last time two years ago. This year's attempt (on my wet Friday in the Gunks with Franz) was the first time I ever managed to climb it cleanly on the first try. It is tough to get the first crux move, which involves matching a foot to one hand while trying to reach ever-so-slowly with the other hand up a featureless face for an invisible, tiny crimp. The next move, smearing the feet on nothing at all while locking off and reaching for a jug, is no picnic either.



5.8+? My ass.



The second 5.8 sandbag of the weekend was the first pitch of Carbs and Caffeine, which Dick simply calls plain old 5.8-- no plus sign. I led it later in the day with Dana after Modern Times. It was my first time doing the pitch and if you take a look at the picture above (click on it to enlarge) you may notice that I placed a rather large number of protective pieces. This was because I thought it was hard and that I might slip off, pretty much the whole way up! The entire pitch involves off-vertical thin face climbing, and I felt insecure, especially at the crux finishing moves, where the hands are not so positive and the footholds are the tiniest indentations. The protection crack at the crux takes only micronuts; I managed to slot two of them. Luckily I didn't slip and test the nuts, but I thought they were good.



I felt sandbagged by Carbs and Caffeine, maybe even more so than by Dirty Gerdie. When I found out that Swain calls it 5.9- I felt somewhat vindicated.



But maybe I was wrong about both Dirty Gerdie and Carbs and Caffeine. Maybe these climbs just involve specific skills that I'm less comfortable with. The foot/hand match that I employed on Dirty Gerdie, for example, is a popular solution to many Gunks climbs with long reaches between good edges, and the entry level for this move seems to be 5.8. (Think of both Arrow and Three Doves.) You won't find this move much in a gym, which adds to its unfamiliarity for today's climbers. To the experienced Gunkie maybe it isn't a big deal at all.



And of course the same can be said for less-than-vertical thin face climbing. You won't find anything like it in a gym, so it's no surprise a climber like me feels insecure doing it. When I lowered to the ground and watched Dana follow my lead of Carbs and Caffeine I learned that slabby climbing can feel more slippery than it really is. I could see just how much of his shoe was in contact with the rock in the places where I thought I was standing on nothing. Maybe I wasn't as close to sliding off as I feared I was.



It all depends on what you're used to. But Modern Times? We're all used to the type of climbing you'll find on that one. It's really exciting, but it's no sandbag.

Ohiopyle (Meadow Run) Conditions

Today I stopped to check conditions at Lower and Upper Meadow Run today. Overall, Lower Meadow is looking bleak. The short supply of ground water is keeping the ice from forming here. Good news is that there IS ice forming on the start to an awesome looking route that I've tried several times over the years. Its in the middle of the overhang between Anger Management (L) and Captain Caveman (R). It comes out the steepest, longest part of the roof. The seep coming down the short face below the roof is almost ready for some action. I think by next week this line will be ready to try. Please don't knock down the icicle that is almost connected to the Rhodie. This is the start to the route.

Just about ready to go. Next weeks line?

The rest of the lines are looking thin, but as you can see in the picture, the finish to Anger Management is looking great for any aspiring senders. Now is the best time to do it. Captain Caveman is also in great condition, but the extension hanger isn't formed up enough to support body weight. Soon enough.

Hemlock is looking thin, but climbable after a thin start.

Walking up to the thin start of Hemlock WI3

The Main pillar is in horrible shape for the amount of cold that we've had. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone at this point. Don't waste your time if you're planning on coming here to climb the normal ice lines, they don't exist yet.

On a positive note. Upper Meadow Run is looking very good so far. The School Yard has a very nice flow for most everyone. Its forming an nice gully runnel just to the right of the normal ice lines. It appears to be thick enough for any length screws. Get it while its good. Here's a photo of School Yard area.

The "NEW" right runnel that usually doesn't form

The steep mixed climbs in the cave are good for dry tooling, but the ice doesn't appear to be long enough for body weight or use. So if you're into the upside down antics give it a little more time and they should be good for some tries. Above all, the best part of climbing at Upper Meadow is how beautiful the area is. Come out to Southwestern PA for some great winter climbing.

The beautiful setting at Upper Meadow Run with the Amphitheater on the right

Another photo looking out of the cave

Wordless Wednesday :: Yum

Fresh. Purchased at the field. Scrumptious.

With a penny, just so you can compare the size!

Kasie Cat

Kasie resting after her ordeal.

Greetings From... South Carolina

Huntington Beach State Park

November 18, ..

November 18, ..

November 19, ..

Injured hikers airlifted from Camp Muir with help of Army Reserve team

Here is the NPS press release about the recent incident on the Muir Snowfield. We'll attempt to put more information online when we can.

Injured hikers airlifted from Camp Muir with help of Army Reserve team

Two hikers suffering from hypothermia and frostbite were airlifted from Camp Muir on Mount Rainier at 6:15 this morning, with the help of a Chinook helicopter operated by members of the Army Reserve’s 159th Aviation Regiment at Fort Lewis. They were taken to Madigan Hospital and from there by ground transportation to Harborview Medical Center in Seattle.

The injured hikers were Mrs.Mariana Burceag and Mr. Daniel Vlad of Bellevue, Washington. A third hiker, Mr. Eduard Burceag, the husband of Mrs. Burceag, died of injuries sustained in the incident. His body is being removed off the mountain this afternoon.

The three individuals are experienced mountaineers who had visited Camp Muir in the past and have enjoyed hiking and climbing on Mount Rainier for many years. Two had previously reached the summit. On Monday afternoon, they became trapped on the Muir Snowfield by a sudden blizzard while descending from a day hike to Camp Muir. Early Tuesday morning a 911 emergency call came through to park rangers advising them of overdue hikers on the Muir snowfield. Due to heavy, drifting snow, seventy miles per hour winds, and near zero visibility, a rescue team was unable to safely initiate a search at that time. At about 7:15am, one member of the party found his way to Camp Muir and was able to direct a search team, made up of climbing guides and park rangers stationed at Camp Muir, to the party’s location near Anvil Rock. All three of the stranded hikers were under shelter by 8:30am. Three doctors, who were at Camp Muir as clients of one of the park’s guide services, provided immediate medical care. Mr. Burceag was unconscious and unresponsive upon arrival. Rescuers were unable to revive him.

The shelter at Camp Muir is warm, dry, and well-stocked with food and water. A carry-out rescue could have been initiated following the rescue, however, rangers and doctors determined it would be in the best interest of the patients to spend the night and wait for a break in the weather to safely fly the next day. This morning dawned clear above Camp Muir, with heavy clouds below. The Chinook helicopter arrived at 6am and, in approximately 15 minutes, lifted Mrs. Burceag and Mr. Vlad, along with one of the park’s climbing rangers, into the helicopter by hoist and cable. Those on scene report that the cloud ceiling had risen somewhat by the time the helicopter arrived, and that the rescue occurred amid swirling clouds that threatened to engulf the mountain in fog.

The Chinook helicopter was operated by members of the U.S. Army Reserve, “A” Company, 5th Battalion, 159th Aviation Regiment at Fort Lewis, Washington. [Note: Yesterday’s press release attributing the helicopter to the 101st Airborne Division was incorrect.] This reserve unit has worked with park officials at Mount Rainier on numerous rescues over the years, and has been invaluable as a backup resource when private vendors are unavailable or lack the capabilities required by the mission. In this case, for instance, the Chinook was able to fly out of Fort Lewis by instruments, despite the low clouds and poor visibility that grounded commercial helicopters. Over the years, the Reserve unit’s helicopter has been modified in several ways to accommodate the needs of Mount Rainier’s climbers: with a fixed line inside the aircraft for climbers to clip into; with removable plywood flooring to accommodate climbers’ crampons; with a special hoist for lifting individuals into the helicopter; and with flight helmets for use by park rangers, outfitted with avionics for communicating with the helicopter team.

Every year, roughly 9,000 people climb Mount Rainier and only about half of them reach the summit. Thousands more take day hikes or overnight camping trips to Camp Muir (48 were registered there on Tuesday night). These individuals are attracted by the majesty of the mountain, the wilderness experience, and the breathtaking beauty of mornings like this one, high above the clouds on the side of the volcano. Like many things in life, there are inherent risks in the wilderness. Sudden storms like Monday’s blizzard can catch even the most experienced and prepared hikers off guard. Visitors should check in with park rangers for the latest information about conditions on the mountain, and should always be prepared for an emergency.
~ NPS

Watching over the nest

A pair of Eagles watches over their nest as they take turns incubating the eggs. Butterwort Cliffs Scientific Natural Area - Near Cascade River State Park, MN.

Gunks Routes: Pink Laurel (5.9)

It had been a wonderful weekday in the Gunks. After we finished up with The Seasons, Maryana was looking for a 5.9 to lead. She suggested Pink Laurel, mostly because the first pitch has a G rating. I'd never done the first pitch, but had long been curious about it. I told her my understanding was that the first pitch crux is short but polished/greasy and that some people hate the route. But I also told her I've been wanting to do it and that I'd love to lead the 5.9 pitch two. So off we went.



Pink Laurel is a two-star classic you don't often see people doing. It looks intimidating. It sits just to the right of some very popular, easier climbs like Jackie (5.5) and Classic (5.7). The first pitch ascends a corner system, with the crux coming low at an escape from an awkward alcove. When we arrived at the base and looked upward, it seemed to me like the dark, awkward alcoves continued throughout the whole pitch.





(Photo: Maryana pondering the crux alcove on pitch one of Pink Laurel (5.9))



Maryana was more than up to the task of climbing the pitch. Although there were placement opportunities, she didn't put in any gear until she got herself through the easy starting territory and into the crux alcove. Once there she placed two solid cams. At the time I was ignorant of what was to come, so I didn't know to tell her what I'm going to tell you now: I'm not sure those two cams were placed optimally. If she'd blown the crux move they would have kept her from hitting the ground, but maybe not the rock at the base of the alcove. Maryana placed the cams in the ceiling of the alcove, one in the crack on the left and one in the crack on the right. Because the cams were set back a bit from the lip, she extended the draws on both of these pieces. Better, I think, would have been to place a cam right at the lip of the roof of the alcove, clipping it direct. No extension.



But she was totally solid on the moves, so there were no worries. As soon as she stepped up out of the alcove, I suggested she place a piece ASAP, which she did from a rather strenuous stance. Then it appeared the climbing eased for the rest of the pitch.





(Photo: Maryana almost through with pitch one of Pink Laurel (5.9))



When it was my turn to follow, I saw why people gripe about Pink Laurel. The polished part of the route is short, but it is the crux. Dick tells you to undercling left out of the alcove, but this advice only tells part of the story and doesn't begin to capture the weirdness of the move. It is a committing undercling up left with very slippery feet, then a step right, awkwardly straddling a corner. Another strenuous step up and you're out of the crux.



I didn't think the moves were hard, exactly, but they were strange and insecure. Very good protection is available but as I realized watching Maryana some care should be taken to protect the crux well.



I thought the climbing above the crux was interesting and unique. The remaining alcoves went at around 5.6, and there were some funky moves required to get out of them. Before I knew it I was at the ledge with Maryana.



Pitch one of Pink Laurel was very interesting, and a little different from your typical Gunks climb. I'd like to go back soon and lead it myself.



And I'd really like to go back and lead pitch two again because I totally botched it with Maryana.





(Photo: Vass leading pitch two of Pink Laurel (5.6 variation))



Last fall I did the 5.6 variation to pitch two of Pink Laurel with Vass, sending him up on lead after I led pitch one of Jackie. This easier variation of Pink Laurel is fun (I thought it seemed pretty soft for 5.6), and it led me to believe the 5.9 version of the pitch wouldn't be too difficult, because the crux would have to be short. Both versions of the pitch, easy and hard, start and end the same way. The only difference is that the 5.6 version cuts left around the roof while the 5.9 version cuts right.



Returning to the pitch with Maryana, I set off, getting to the stance atop the prominent pointed flake (just over Vass' head in the photo above) with ease. Then I headed right, towards what I thought was the 5.9 finish. An overhanging 5.7-ish traverse around a little nose led me a stance at a shallow left-facing corner. Here I looked up and could see a big angle piton in the roof above and to my left. I thought that this piton must be at the exit to Pink Laurel, but I wasn't sure I was supposed to go that far back left to exit the roof. It seemed especially contrived to go back and left when I was already standing at an easy-looking corner that seemed to go straight to the top.



So I went straight up the corner instead of heading back up and left, and since the climbing to the top couldn't have involved any moves harder than 5.5, I knew I'd messed up.



Later I looked at the photos in the guidebook and realized I'd traversed too far to the right, going all the way to the finish of A-Gape. This climb is a 5.11 down low but the part I did is easy and from all appearances seldom climbed. Judging from the line in the book I went straight right when I should have gone diagonally up and right from the stance at the flake. I don't know how I missed the line so completely.



Now that I've avoided Pink Laurel's second pitch from both sides, I have to go back and attack it directly!

Cars

Cars have always been a big part of my father's life. He once bought a house- one half of a duplex with 9 garages. You can still see them on the alley - between Van Ness and Upton Streets. He can tell you about every car he has ever owned starting with the Model T Ford he bought on the sly with the money he earned from picking up golf balls and selling papers. His father thought he was too young to have a car, but that didn’t stop my dad. He lied about his age, forged his father’s name, and got a permit when he was only fifteen. Then his friend, Fred Brown had to hide the car at his house until it was too late for my Papou to stop the deal.

Before he had his own car, my Dad would steal my Papou's car- a maroon Chevrolet with black fenders. Papou kept it in a garage about a block away. Dad swiped the keys to both the garage and the car. He never put gas in it, and Papou never figured out why the car got such bad mileage. He even took it back to the dealer to complain. Later on, my brother would follow unwittingly in his shoes. Not knowing of Dad’s escapades, he’d climb down the tree outside his bedroom window on Davenport Street and “borrow” the car at night. The difference between father and son here was that my brother got caught . Our dad checked the mileage.
My brother’s only recourse was to buy his own car with the money he made from a temp job at the post office. He got a 1939 Buick, shaped like a torpedo. What little paint it had was blue. There was an antenna in the middle of the windshield. No brakes, no insurance, and once again, a forbidden purchase. He’d park it about a block away and walk home. He didn’t get caught until about 9 months later when Dad found a traffic ticket in his wallet.

Anyway after the Model T, my dad upgraded to a 1927 Chevrolet-2 door coupe convertible and from then on it was convertibles all the way. He wanted to modify the Chevy so he went up to the Friendship depot and got a straw bench from a retired streetcar. Then he cut the trunk lid, reversed the hinges, and made his own rumble seat. The next car was a 1932 Desoto with black fenders. He bought that one from a chef from Altoona who was working for Papou at Macomb Cafeteria.

Just before WWII, he got a brand new 1940 Hudson V8 with back windows that buttoned in when the top was down. That was it for new cars for a while. The factories stopped making cars and started making war machines. Those were dark days for my father. During the war, he pre-ordered four cars- and as they started rolling off the assembly line he was right there. The first was a 1947 green convertible Studebaker which he sold when the green convertible Buick came in. Next was the maroon Town and Country Chrysler which he totally loved until the emerald green Cadillac showed up. From then on, it was Cadillacs right on up to the seventies when Cadillac stopped making convertibles. Even then my cousin, Peter Sclavounos, managed to find him a custom made red Eldorado- which turned out to be the last stallion in line, and Dad’s personal favorite with its chrome spoke wheels and big white side walls. But Dad eventually got the fever for a new car again- and it had to be a convertible. That’s when my all American Dad converted to BMW, and it was somewhere around then that he got the bright idea of buying my mother “her car” for their anniversary. My mother didn't learn to drive until her late twenties, and she doesn’t particularly enjoy it, but she wanted her freedom. She avoids the Beltway at all cost, although I have to say she’s a little bit of a lead foot for a supposedly timid driver. She drives to get there, and she does just that. She’s always hated the top down for the unspeakable things that happen to her hair, but she’s always driven a convertible because that’s what Dad loves, and Mom has always "gone along with the program". Even now-just this year- for their 71st anniversary, Dad went out and bought her a bright red Toyota Salera convertible. My mother was totally gracious about it, too. She said she liked the color. And just like when he was a kid, Dad got away with it.

Balloons from many Countries

The International Balloon Fiesta is called that because they have many balloons come over from other countries to participate in the fiesta. This one was the only one I saw that I could really tell was from another country because I couldn't read the writing on it. I suppect Germany but I could be wrong.

Grand Canyon :: Sunset at Hopi Point

On our last night at the Canyon (April 17th) we decided to take in another sunset. This time on the southwest side of the Canyon, at Hopi Point.

A close-up view showing a bit of the ruggedness of the Canyon.

The late afternoon sun emphasizes the “hills and valleys” of the Canyon.

The waning rays of the sun also bring out a little of the color in the Canyon.

Quite a few people view the sunsets at Hopi Point. There were three buses and more in the queue to take everyone back to Grand Canyon Village.

The setting sun, split in two by a layer of clouds. It was a fitting end to a very nice day and a great way to end our time at the Grand Canyon.

Campobello Island :: Sunset

Thursday, September 20th - - Another very nice day was coming to an end. I was driving around Campobello Island looking for a good spot from which to view the sunset. The weather had been as close to perfect as you can get for this time of year and clouds had developed in the western sky, foretelling of the rain that was forecast for tomorrow.





Do you see that streak of color on the left? I had seen something like that a few days before but had not been in a place where I could stop to photograph it. Today I was able to pull safely off the side of the road... It wasn't a rainbow since it wasn't raining and it certainly wasn't in the shape of a traditional rainbow. The streak of color remained in the sky for about 10 minutes then gradually faded away.



And the sunset? Oh, yes. It was magnificent. As an old man I spoke with the next morning put it "The sky just went ballistic!" He was so right. And the photos don't really do it justice.

















I couldn't resist taking a panoramic shot, which included the moon (that little white streak in the upper left-hand corner). You're gonna have to double-click the image to view a larger version.





I moved to a location a little further along the road for a slightly different viewpoint. A few minutes later the color had disappeared from the sky.



My one day on Campobello Island was
almost over. The next day (Friday, September 21st) I would travel
west, back to Belfast, where I would spend 3 days with my cousin
Anita (my dad and her mother were brother and sister) and her husband
Tom. We got caught up on everything since my
previous visit 3 years ago. We talked about so many things during
our time together, reminiscing about our younger days and discussing
various family members (both living and dead). Yes, it was a very
good visit. Thank you, Tom and Anita! I treasure the time we had
together.