Alpha FL and Shift LT shells?

Here is a quick comparison on two of the best inlight weight hard shell technology available today.



I added a third shortly after:

http://coldthistle.blogspot.com//01/a-third-shell-material-westcombs-focus.html



Any of the threecan be easilyused for most anysport where you need someprotection from nasty weather,including climbing. In the case of my buddy Dave and I, ice climbing for sure but lift/side-hill on a snow board or skis as well or a quick run on the bikes.



It was no accident that we both showed up for a reunion at our once home townski area kitted in similar gear. Even though I was skiing on lwt Dynafit gear and Davewas on a snow board we would be on the same terrain. Do this stuff long enough and there ends up being a well thought out and comfortable"uniform" fora goodday out. Matching colors with your Bro? That is just a little weird!



David and I have been playing on this particular ski hill together almost longer than I can remember. I do seem to recallusteaching basic search and rescue techniques to the volunteer ski patrol bitd and ripping it up around them on 3 pin tele gear though. GearI amhappy to see long gone from mystorage closet!












Below: Dave in his Arcteryx Alpha FL leading





Arcteryx Alpha FL shown above

10.7 oz. for a Men's Large, $400

Two different Goretex fabrics:

2.4 oz Gore Active Shell, 2.9 oz Gore-Tex Active Shell reinforcements

a very light Goretex shell













Below: Dane leading in his Westcomb, Shift LT.












The Westcomb, Shift, shownabove

11.9 ounces for a Men's Large, $400

Two different Neoshell Fabrics:

340 NRS Polartec® NeoShell® - Fly weight nylon ripstop and 360 NP Polartec® NeoShell®

Lightest Neoshell to date




Although I have likely climbed more ice in a hard shell than any other pieceof clothing, today a hard shell is one of my least favorite garments to use. More likely one I would use skiingthese days, so I can dress downfor a good work out and stillcut the wind chill.



But if you are going to climb in a hard shell the newest Gore and Polartec "hard shell" technologies are actually pretty spectacular. There is a light weightEpic shell that will be here soonthatwill make a goodcomparison to these two. That shouldbe interesting.



Before I offer some comparisons on these two how about some back ground? BITD (as in back in the day) belay jackets were rather unheard of. We had big jackets but few of the guys I climbed with ever bother to bring one. We dressed in the morning with what we thought we might need for warmth that day. May be a extra layer to go under our shell (likely apile jacket or down vest) but not likely one to go over it. Basically you assumed you would suffer, too hot when you were working hard and too cold when stuckwhile belaying a slow lead. You learned to climb fast for all the obvious reasons.



No one climbing ice seriously back then would ever tolerate a gumbie gettingon and then lacing up an ice climb like it was a rock climb in the sun. That same thing is socommon now. Couple of reasons for the lack of empathy back then. Few ever carried more than a 10 or so ice screws. Screws were justtoo hardto place even in the best of conditions. The other was yousimply didn't get on climbs you weren't technically capable of. Experience taught you and your partner that. Falling on ice was simply unacceptable. You ran out ice climbs, just to keep everything moving and everyone warm. I've had several painful reminders of how not to ice climb, when Dave can't come out to play.



When you are climbing within your skill level you can move quickly and carry little gear all while staying warmer.



The first one day ascents of GCC on Kitchener, the Super Coulior on Deltaform, Slipstream, Teardrop and Polar Circus were all done in a similar manner. Hard shells, no extra clothing. tiny packsand climbers performing well within their skill levels.



No surprise the skill levels have changed. The technical difficulty at which thecurrent generation of climbers are capable of is simply amazing within that perspective. Their ability to get above their own pro...not so much.



It should be no surprise then if you want to climb light and fasta hard shell built to exacting standards and lacking many of the modern accouterments some require is still a good choice for most conditions where ice is involved.



When Dave and I kitted up on the Parkway last week, we were both in soft shell pants, a moderate amount of base layers, little insulationand hard shell jackets. I used the Shift LT,Westcomb's new light weight (the LT), sewn from two types of Polartec's Neoshell. Dave showed up in theArcteryx, Alpha FL (fast and light) , using two weights of Goretex Active shell. The jackets are very, very similar in design and function. Which made for some easy comparisons.



What does all that mean to you? Either is a nice "action suit" jacket but not much reallyin actual differences. More differences in the pattern cut imo than performance. But no question, there are differences in performance. Lets talk pattern first. The "FL" designation from Arcteryxstands for "fast and light". Fair enough, the jacket deserves that kind of label. Not sure or care who got there first but the Westcomb Shift LT is equally "fast and light". Jackets might as well be clones of one another. Same single chest pocket and helmet capable hood. Greatfit on both hoods with a helmet. I find the Westcomb patternfits me in a large better than the Arcteryx stuff generally does in a Large. The Westcomb stuff is cut a little bigger in the shoulders and arms.I am thankful for the better Westcomb patterns (for my body shape anyway) as most every new shell my size I try onthese days seems to have arms the size of a #2 pencil. I'm 190# and 6'1". That forces me to get the next size up in a lot of clothing. But Dave (who is almost skinny) at 185# and 6'3"loves the fit of a size large Alpha FL. Both have long tails that stay tucked into a harness. The sleeves are long even when you are full stretched out and seal well under or over gloves. Perfect! We can easily move along from all that now.Find the one jacket that fits you the best, would be mysuggestion.



Performance of the shell fabrics?



Goretex has an enviable reputation of cutting the wind and keeping you dry. The Alpha FL does both. The Shift is currently the lightest Neoshell garment yet made. And IMO it shows. Awesome jacket for sure and I love climbing in mine. You will stay dry from the inside or the outside. The newestNeoshell material, like the newest Goretex stretches a bit. But while I think the Neoshell breaths better under a heavy work load I also thinkthe Goretex is more wind proof.



We were climbing in the minus mid teens Celsius. I've recently learned that jackets that are less than 100% wind proof are chilly. My Shift was perfect for leading. But I wanted toquickly get onmy belay jacket (which is wind proof) when I wasn't leading. With the samebase layers and very similar insulation under our shells, Dave wore a belay jacket once in several days of climbing. I wore mine at every belay, every day we were out, if there was any sort of wind. Some of that can be tossed to my"new" body reacting poorly to the cold these days. But not all of it.



So what did I really think? I like the bright yellows and green color combos on both jackets. When I was cold in the wind, rightfully or not, I liked (envied)the Goretex version. When I was pumped stupid and sweating bullets I preferred the Neoshell. I sure dried out fast! Truth is it all boils down to fit for me. The Westcomb fit me very well in a large. The Arcteryx didn't in a large (too small or a XL. too big). That is a pretty common issue for me..similar thing happens withsome of the Patagonia clothing.



Both fabrics are really really good for what we were using them for, which was ice climbing. May be even betterfor skiing and snow boarding is my thought.



Figure out what you need for clothing and what will fit into your own system. Then find the garment that has a pattern that fits you the best with those same qualities and features. Honestly? It is pretty hard to go wrong with so many really good choices. If you screw it up first time around you'll are just as likely to learn how to climb faster or suffer more. How bad can it really get :)

The Best Time to Visit Your Bike Shop

Even though we live close to one another and normally cross paths on our own turf, this weekend I bumped into "cycler" from Biking in Heels 10 miles away - at Harris Cyclery. We'd both taken on projects that ended up throwing us curveballs, and now here we were. Even if you work on your bike yourself, it's good to find a trustworthy bike shop you can turn to just in case - and better still, a specific mechanic whose opinion and work you trust. The fact that I travel 10 miles to see Jim even though there are plenty of bike shops walking distance from my house, speaks for itself.



And if you are going to visit your local shop with a "project bike," there is no better time than the winter months. In the off season, bicycle shops tend to be less crowded, which means that they will be able to work on your bike sooner and will have more time to answer your questions. They are also more likely to have the components and accessories you want in stock, since things don't sell out as quickly as in the summer.



Some new floor models are likely to be available as well, since the shop will actually have time to build them up. This is the first time I've seen theRivendell Hunqapillar- the version with the diagonal "middle tube." The design is definitely not for me and I cannot help but wonder how many people buying this bike will actually be using it in a way that necessitates this construction. But I do appreciate seeing the monsterin person. The wooly mammoth headbadge and the decals are nicely done, as is the lugwork.



Never seen a seat cluster with a "socketed" seat stay like this before. Any idea what the purpose of this design is, assuming that it is more than aesthetic?



Between the Hunqapillar, the flock of otherRivendells, the vintageHetchins, and other exotic specimens, it felt as if lugwork was declaring war on modern bikes and taking over the shop. My own modestly lugged bicycle seemed like an underachiever in comparison - though he held himself proudly and was quite happy to have the mechanic's attention.



Winter is also the time when bike shops hold end-of-the year sales, where good deals can be found if you are in the market for a new bike. And for those manufacturers whose models do not change year to year, winter is often the last chance to get a bike at the current price tag, before prices go up in the Spring. If you hang around long enough, you might also learn about non-advertised deals, including second hand bikes. Some of the most interesting vintage bicycles never make it to the likes of Craig's List or e-bay, but are sold via word of mouth. Bicycle shops can act as hubs for those types of connections. If you are looking for a particular bike, try asking your bike shop about it - they might just know of a customer, or a friend, who is trying to sell theirs.

The winter months are infamously slow for the bicycle industry - but as a customer, you can take advantage of that in a way that benefits everyone: You get more personal attention, faster turn-around, and better deals - and the bike shop gets winter business. It's win-win!

Inflight Entertainment

Leaving for Austria again, I bought the new Bike Snob book to read on the plane in hopes of distracting myself from my terror of flying. I like the BikeSnobNYC blog, but what made me buy the book was Grant Petersen's review on Rivendell's website. I have to admit that I am a sucker for Grant Petersen's writing and find myself reading all sorts of things he wrote that I have no interest in, just for the narration. If he wrote a 2-page description of bathroom tiles, I'd probably read it. His enticing endorsement of the book put me over the edge.

And if this isn't proof of the existence of the Collective Unconscious, I don't know what is: No sooner did I stuff Bike Snob into my carry-on, then mention of me appeared on his blog. Scroll down to the bit about the Boston Globe story on sweat stains and fabrics with patterns. Right...

Bike Snob proved useful during my flight, as I was seated between two mothers with babies on their laps. The babies not only wailed for the duration of the flight, but now and again would reach out to pull my hair, poke my eye, or chew on my jacket. Noticing this, the mothers would smile at me generously - as if to say: "As a female of childbearing age, surely you must be delighted at the opportunity to interact with babies!" Trying not to start wailing myself, I took deep breaths and concentrated on Bike Snob.

If I had to use one word to describe the book it would be "heartwarming". It is gently humorous, and reading it feels like wrapping yourself in a warm and fuzzy sweater with cute little patterns of bicycles all over it. Though Bike Snob argues that there is no such thing as "bike culture," he contradicts himself by creating a sense of one - to the extent of even referring to cyclists as a distinct breed of people. He also contradicts himself by railing against the fetishisation of the cycling experience, only to go on and fetishise the heck out of it himself in later chapters. I am pretty certain that these contradictions are intentional, meant to illustrate his own hopeless love for bicycles and to demonstrate that he too is susceptible to the very things he mocks.

As for the contents, they are surprisingly straightforward. The chapters address such topics as bicycle history, bicycle ownership, bicycle maintenance, and road rules. There is also a part on "Velo-Taxonomy" where he categorises cyclists into various types and explains the differences in detail. According to his taxonomy, I would be a hybrid between the "Retrogrouch", the "Lone Wolf", and the "Beautiful Godzilla" (though the only thing in common I have with the latter is the type of bicycle I ride).

The Bike Snob book is generously illustrated, in a manner that evokes Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions and Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince. The design and layout make the pages almost seem edible. In a way, the presentation can be described as having a pre-packaged "cult status feel." Whether the book will actually attain cult status, only time will determine.

In other velo-news I can report from my travels, I saw these neat bicycles during my layover in Frankfurt Airport. These bikes have fenders, dynamo hub lighting, a the double-legged kickstand, a bell, a Basil front basket, a Pletscher rear rack, Schwalbe tires, and what appear to be license plates. From what I could tell, they are for the airport employees and not for flight passengers. Too bad, I would have liked to ride one around the airport!

Competition

Although I’ve spent my whole adult life involved in sport, I still have big reservations about large parts of it. I’ve read a lot of work on the history and philosophy of sport, and to be perfectly honest, a good chunk of it makes for depressing reading. I wish more of it could be more like the way it’s supposed to be.




The fact that climbing on mountains and cliffs is hard to pin down, hard to reduce to numbers and results and competition was quite an important aspect of what drew me into it. It’s hard to say ‘I had a better adventure than you’. Even as a climbing coach, I’ve sometimes been uneasy seeing young climbers come up against some of these negatives. Sometimes I wonder if I should say ‘skip the comp this time’. Go and explore somewhere new with some friends and come back for the next comp. As well as providing the essential ability to see outside the bubble of the scene, the perspective might well make a better competitor in the long run.









Kev pointed to this picture on Facebook, of a Basque athlete helping a Kenyan who’d stopped running a few metres short of the finish line in a cross country event, thinking he’d already passed it. The Basque runner could have run right past and won the race. But he stopped to direct the Kenyan over the line, staying behind and keeping the place he would have got if the Kenyan hadn’t made a simple human error. The surprising thing for me was that the attention this story got was as a ‘rare’ piece of sportsmanship. Why shouldn’t it be the norm?




After getting my ankle surgery in November, I decided to enter a running race for the first time, and see how it went. I thought it would be good as a goal to help get me back on my feet and moving fast in the mountains again. I entered the West Highland Way Race for next June. Although I have done quite a lot of hill running at different times over the past year or two, like anyone getting involved in a new scene I was a bit nervous about how welcoming it would be to someone who is known as ‘a climber’. Yesterday a friend told me about this thread started about my entry, which was a bit of a downer. When I experienced this sort of thing as a teenager doing sport at school, I hated it, avoided it and eventually found it’s antidote in going climbing. This time round I don’t need to react like that. But if I am able to recover from my injury enough to do it, it will be weird to stand on the start line knowing I’m standing with others who feel I don’t deserve to be there. My slowly healing ankle joint is the only thing that would stop me earning a place. As I said on the thread, if anyone feels I really don’t deserve the chance as much as them, drop me a line and I’ll offer to withdraw and donate my place.

The snow is flying

The temperatures plummeted today, and along came precipitation in the form of quite a bit of snow! Camp Muir saw a 29 degree drop in the temperature during the night. Paradise didn't drop that far, but there is some fresh stuff on the ground as the temp hovers near 31... which should help w/ that Muir Snowfield dilemma. A reader contributed this July 29 image taken in 1896! Check out the amount of snow.

It seems that the Camp Muir telemetry has been spotty. It's up and running now, but is occasionally down. I've been told they're going to fix the problem.

Rutland Water clockwise by bike

With Harry. Pleasantly warm and dry. 15 miles.




The second time I've cycled in two days! I found the first section hard going - rough surface, then the steep hill from Manton. This was another where the ride was the thing, with a break at Whitwell car park for a much-needed drink. I'll stick a photograph or two from a couple of days ago, when I was wandering around with the camera.

Home Alone, with Bicycle

In the weeks without me, the Co-Habitant has not been idle: He has transformed his already handsome Motobecane Super Mirage into a mean, lean, sport-touring machine... and then some. For your entertainment, I post his mobile phone pictures of Myles.



Can you spot some of the, erm... unusual updates?



First, there is the bell mounted on the top tube. Yes, the top tube. An eccentric choice, but I think it looks distinguished!



Then there is the computer on the handlebars. The juxtaposition of the computer and the twine makes me giggle. In return, he threatens to put one on his Pashley as well.



And, Oh God, what's this? He installed clipless pedals (SPD 520) and bought clipless cycling shoes to go with them. Madness!



Of course, you've probably noticed these. Yes, they are twin, fully twined water flasks - with sports sprouts, or whatever those things are called. Spectacular, no?



And finally, behold the pump under the top tube. Myles is officially ready for anything - though I don't know about those clipless pedals. The Co-Habitant insists that he likes them, and I guess I should accept that. Maybe with time, he will twine them...

The Huffman-Hoffman Kinexxion :: Michael

Even though I wasn't sure if Dietrich Hoffman was the father of “my” John Hoffman, since I had the resources available, I decided to see what I could find on Michael Hoffman who was reported to be the father of Dietrich. The information that I had received from Maggie Evans in April .. was in the form of a family group sheet prepared by a 2nd cousin of her father. It showed that Johann Dietrich Hoffman was born June 22, 1751 in New Hanover, Pennsylvania and that his parents were Michael and Maria (Engle) Hoffman.



Update April 10, ..: Please see Questioning the Status Quo :: Oh, Maria! for my theory regarding the maiden name of Maria Hoffman.



In a previous post, I mentioned the baptisms of four children of Dietrich Hoffman in the Zion-Spiess Church records in Upper Alsace Township, Berks County, Pennsylvania. What I didn't mention in that post was that the sponsors were included in the version created by William J. Hinke in July 1921.

• Henry b. Dec. 14, 1777, bapt. Febr. 20, 1778 – sponsor was Henry Alter


• John b. June 22, (1778) – sponsor was John Papp


• John Michael b. Mar. 10, 1782 – sponsor was Valentine Hartman


• Samuel b. Apr. 6, 1785 bapt. May 29, 1785 – sponsors were Frederick Lies & wf. Maria Engel

I also erred in the post mentioned above in stating that the mother of the children was not listed. The parents for Samuel were given as “Dietrich Hoffman, Susanna”. Susanna's maiden name is reportedly Alder, which could also be Alter, so I'm wondering if Henry Alter is her father or in some other way related. I have found one online tree that gives her parents as Georg Henrich “Henry” Alter (1715 – 1784) and Mary Magdalena (1727-) with no source information.



Also, you might have noticed that the sponsors of Samuel Hoffman were Frederick Lies & wf. Maria Engel. I did a double-take when I saw her name... perhaps putting the cart before the horse here, but Michael Hoffman's estate entered into probate on February 4, 1777. So, unless there was another Maria Engel in the area it looks like Michael's widow married Frederick Lies.



I need to spend more time reviewing the baptism records for Spiess Church, but it should be noted that Frederick Lies & wf Maria were sponsors for at least three other baptisms. This information certainly opens up some avenues for research into the Alder/Alter line as well as the Engel/Engle line.



In addition, two baptisms for children of Michael & Maria (Engel) Hoffman were found in the book “Trinity Lutheran Church - Reading, Pennsylvania; An alphabetized compilation of baptisms, marriages, and deaths from 1751-1904” prepared by Jacqueline B. Nein & Gail H. Hesser, 1988.

• Anna Barbara, born 10/22/1765, baptized 11/27/1765, sponsors Georg & Anna Barbara Schmarz


• Johannes, born 05/03/1770, baptized 06/03/1770, sponsors Johannes & Eva Koch

As stated above, Michael Hoffman's estate entered into probate on February 4, 1777. He did not have a will and his wife Mary Engel Hoffman was made administratrix of his estate.








Estate of Michael Hoffman, 1777

Berks County, Pennsylvania Probate Files

Family History Microfilm 1653590 Accessed February 11, ..

Know all Men by these Presents, That We Mary Engel Hoffman Widow and Relict of Michael Hoffman late of the Township of Alsace in the County of Berks in the Province of Pennsylvania Carpenter deceased, John Koch of the Township of Exeter in the said County Yeoman and John Myers of the same place Mason are held and firmly bound unto Benjamin Chew Esqr... for the Sum of Three hundred Pounds... Dated the fourth Day of February in the Year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy seven.

I find it fascinating that, apparently, Mary's maiden name was usually included in records giving her name, at least that is the case with some of the baptism records and with Michael's estate. I'm going to take a wild guess here and say that there were probably other women by the name of Mary Hoffman in Berks County at the same time and her maiden name was used to distinguish her from the others. That assumption will be investigated further...



Since Michael did not leave a will, the next most important document for genealogists is one that names the lawful heirs. I've found several online trees on the family of Michael and Maria but most of them include only one or two children, while several have 10 or 11 children, some include Dietrich and some don't. There are several documents in Michael's estate file that list his children but apparently there was an issue with the number of children...



To be continued... see The Huffman-Hoffman Kinexxion :: Heirs of Michael

Looking In

Lee took this photo of me in the crack in the rock. You can see the other side where it ends.

Mt. Rainier, Tahoma Glacier

We had been wanting to climb the Tahoma Glacier for quite a while and finally got our chance. We started out on a Friday at a locked gate on the Westside Road. Two of us walked while two rode mountain bikes for the first 3.5 miles of the closed section of the old Westside Road. It seems like climbs with long approaches have great scenery along the way. This was no exception. One of the first sights were these towering Columnar basalt cliffs that are hundreds of feet high.



Crossing a footbridge over the South Puyallup River.



Avalanche Lilies growing alongside the trail.



Our objective: the Tahoma Glacier, flowing from the summit down the west side of Rainier. This photo was actually taken after the climb. On our ascent, we had to find our way up the Puyallup Cleaver (left of center) in the fog and wind. We finally climbed out of the fog at the 8,000' level and found a place to bivy. After 2 hours of "sleep," when most people we know were just going to bed, we got up and continued up the cleaver to the 10,000' level. It took quite a while to find a way around the cliffs and down onto the glacier. That's when the real fun began...finding a way through the maze of huge crevasses.



A drop-off on one side and a deep crevasse on the other! Mt. St. Helens in the background.



There were huge crevasses everywhere! Each one is different and amazing. You just want to stand there and look at the layers of snow, icicles and giant features of snow and ice that hang and span from one side to the other. There is nothing like seeing one of these up close and in person.



Our rope team moving up a steep section.



Ron climbing a snow ramp to the upper lip of another big crevasse.



The team crossing a snow bridge to get by another one.



Slow and steady progress on a smooth part of the glacier.



Ron, David, Doug (and Mark) on the summit.



This debris filled crevasse was easy to cross.



We wanted a challenge and we got it! With a low camp and a lot of route finding challenges, we ended up summiting late and then spent a couple of hours on the descent that afternoon postholing up to our knees in soft snow. The 3 quarts of water that we each started out with was not enough. We ate a lot of snow on the way down. We finally made it back down to camp 24 hours after we started! Needless to say, we slept really good that night! Since we summited on Saturday, we were able to take our time getting up and heading out on Sunday. We were all smiles as we headed back down to the treeline, stopping to look back at least a dozen times. This climb starts way lower than most on Rainier and it has a lot of big ups and downs. When we got back to the trailhead, the GPS unit indicated that we had climbed 15,000 vertical feet over a distance of 32 miles. It's no wonder we were tired. It was a weekend well spent making memories with good friends! Out of all the climbs we have done, we all agree that this was one of the best!

Leaf Season

Having returned to Boston from our stay on Cape Cod, we were greeted by the "Leaf Season" in full effect. It happens so fast! This is very new for Eustacia Vye, who has never seen Autumn before. I had to keep reminding her to pay attention to the road, as she continuously got distracted by the leaves. She thinks that the Fall season matches her colour scheme very nicely - I agree!

This is the fist time I have ridden my Pashley in over two weeks, and the absence made me hyper-aware of the differences between her and my Motobecane mixte. To my surprise, the upright sitting position took a bit of re-adjusting to: To be completely honest, I was somewhat frustrated with the bicycle's composed and stately demeanor after having grown accustomed to the faster and more responsive mixte. Also, I do not have a front rack or basket on the mixte, so another thing that took some re-adjustment on the Pashley was the enormous basket obstructing my view of the front tire.

Mulling this over as I went on various errands, I did not really begin to enjoy the Pashley again until our trip to the grocery store: With the basket and saddlebag fully loaded, the Pashley truly shines - a super stable, super comfortable, utterly luxurious ride. I would have been miserable trying to do this on the mixte.

It was a crisp Autumn day, and it felt oh so cozy to glide through the streets in my soft, flowing cream sweater upon the nicely broken in leather saddle.

I tried to capture the sweater here, but this wasn't my day for successful self-portraiture. Wearing it made me feel as if I were officially acknowledging and celebrating Autumn.

Tweed hat, bought at the Provincetown Army/Navy store - my current favourite cycling cap.

And an attempt at a "Panda shot". Not very informative I admit - but hey, it captures the moment. Happy Autumn cycling!

Car Talk... Recollections of a Wilted Romance

Here is a confession: I feel guilty about my car - or rather, what used to be my car.My poor car, once so beloved! I received it as a gift from my family six years ago, after I earned my doctorate and was about to start a new job in a mountainous region of Northern New England. It was the most lavish gift I have received in my life by far, either before or since, and I was filled with gratitude and disbelief. The car was beautiful and impeccably tasteful and rugged, and my excitement knew no bounds. The exterior was a lovely shade of dark gray and the interior was beige suede (I still remember the texture and smell of the seats when the car was new). The 4WD, the optional manual mode, and the myriad of safety features would keep me protected on the treacherous terrain of the place I was to live (and commute for over 20 miles to work). I named the car, and loved it as if it were a puppy. And I delighted in my long commutes - through the valleys past idyllic farm scenes and along dangerous mountain cliffs through the clouds of thick fog that would rise in the mornings.




Everybody was relieved at my reaction to the car, because I had never been an enthusiastic driver in my previous attempts at car ownership. By my early twenties I had dispensed with cars altogether, living in urban areas where they weren't necessary. Interestingly, this was viewed by many as a lack of self-sufficiency on my part: By living in cities, not practicing driving, and allowing my already questionable motoring skills to deteriorate, I was making myself dependent on urban comforts and public transportation. This new job in a rural area demanded a re-adjustment.





My romance with the new car lasted into winter... until I got into a horrifying accident involving darkness, black ice,fresh snow,a cliff and a railing - into which I crashed head-on after losing control on a turn. Miraculously, I emerged unscathed. And though the front end of the car was totaled, my insurance company came through wonderfully and soon the car was good as new. According to the policemen on the scene, that stretch of the road was so bad that night, that "there was nothing anyone could have done different, except not be out on the road". Not an option of course, when commuting home from a long workday.



I cannot say that I began to dislike or fear cars after this event; it was nothing so dramatic or definite. And I continued to drive throughout that winter and the next, in the same dangerous snow and ice, with no further mishaps. But I no longer thought of my car anthropomorphically, no longer considered it cute. It had become just a thing - a necessary thing, but a dangerous one, too, as well as a stuffy and oppressive one at times. Somehow I no longer saw the charm in the beige suede interior or the beauty of the tasteful gray exterior. It was just a car - something that made sense to use only when the necessity outweighed the danger and the feeling of stuffiness, but not otherwise. It was an excellent car, to be sure - useful especially in rural areas, and great for hauling things in its roomy interior. But just a car.





Several years after I got married, we moved to Boston. Within a week, we decided that the Co-Habitant would sell his car and mine would be shared. This was in no way driven by "ideology" on our part; it was simply absurdly inconvenient to have two cars in Boston, and since his was larger than mine, it was the one to go.




When the decision was made to share my car, I hardly suspected that I would never drive it again, but that is exactly what happened. I have not been behind the wheel of it or any other motor vehicle since sometime in 2007, over three years ago now. I have no idea why, and it was never my intention to categorically stop driving. But soon I found that I would rather walk to my destination for an hour than drive there (which was exactly what I did before I started cycling). What used to be my car now pretty much belongs to the Co-Habitant; I experience no feelings of possession when I look at it or sit in the passenger's seat while traveling together.





Will I drive again? Realistically speaking, I probably will, though I don't know when that might be. I am not "anti-car" and consider cars to be useful and necessary in many circumstances. But I cannot imagine wanting to drive just for the sake of it, or loving a car in the same way as I do my bicycles.

Adieu, Crooked River

Georgia has been left behind. I won't say I'll never go back, but after 2 weeks and 2 days at Crooked River State Park in St. Marys, Georgia I think I've had enough of it for now. Crooked River is a very nice park. It has lovely trails. The people were friendly. For the most part, I enjoyed my time there. But it was cold. And it rained. A lot. Seemed like every other day it was raining.

But a change in location does not always mean there will be a good change in the weather. I came south, into Florida hoping for a little more warmth. The first (and second) morning here I woke up with frost on the windows! Night time temps have been in the low 30s and daytime highs have been in the low 50s all this year. I can say that “this year” because it is only five days into the new year. I sure hope I'm not able to say that for very much longer!

I didn't take a lot of pictures at Crooked River. Like my friend TJ says, a tree is a tree, a river is a river, and one pretty much looks like another. I didn't take many sunset or sunrise photos either. The campsite was in a shaded area and it was hard to tell when the sun was coming up, when it finally decided to show it's face. There were a few sunsets that had a nice “after glow” but, well, they didn't get photographed either.

I took a lot of walks, just to keep warm. And spent a few hours in the library, but it was closed half the time I was there. Silly Holidays, you know?

I'm into my fifth month of traveling. It's really hard to believe that so much time has gone by. Speaking of time, I have no concept of time. I seldom “know” what time of day it is. Or how much time has passed since the last time I ate. I eat when I get hungry, not according to some established schedule.

Many of my posts while on the road have mentioned the weather. Actually, most of them have. Thing is, the weather is what governs what I do and when I do it and whether I enjoy it or not. And, the weather is the one thing that I have no control over. There is nothing I can do about it. I don't affect it, it affects me. It is what it is.

This morning I awoke to the sun rising over the tree tops. A short while later I saw clear blue skies. So, even though it was 30-something I went for a walk in the woods. The movement warmed my blood. The trees and birds and unknown somethings scurrying in the underbrush warmed my soul. The sun is shining. It's a beautiful day. What more could I ask for? (Warmer temperatures, that's what!)

My campsite at Crooked River State Park. The tent was purchased that morning. After coming back to the campground the previous night and finding someone had pulled their rig into my site (even though my tag was on the post and my bicycle chained to the picnic table), I decided that I needed a “presence” in camp even when I wasn't there. It's been a godsend, especially with the cool/cold weather. A small electric heater makes it a cozy place in the evenings. And, no, I don't sleep in the tent – a cot and warm sleeping bag in the van are my nightly resting place.

A tree is a tree. But these are at Crooked River. Really.

The roots of a tree that was long ago downed, by what? The forces of Nature or those of Man? Even in “death” it is Magnificent.

A palm frond, after the rain.