Delving into the Deeds

In addition to the Yarians, Ruperts, and Switzers I have Berlin, Coy and Hoffman ancestors who lived in Columbiana County, Ohio. All of them in the 1803-1860 time period and all in the northeastern tier of townships: Unity, Fairfield, and Salem, and Green (which would become part of Mahoning County when it was formed in 1846).



By the beginning of my second week in Salt Lake City, I had pretty much gotten through my original, rather short, “to do” list except for one item that I knew would consume a huge amount of time. It simply said “Land Records – Columbiana County.” I've had good luck before with land records naming heirs of an ancestor and was hoping for some more luck, especially in the Rupert and Switzer lines.



If you have never done any work with deed records, be forewarned that it can be tedious and confusing. But it can also be extremely rewarding. First you have to search for the desired name in the General Index to Deeds. There are generally separate books for those purchasing land (grantee) and those selling land (grantor). The index will provide the name of the grantor and grantee, the date the transaction was recorded (could be just the year, and the recorded date could be many years after the date of the transaction), the location of the land (in the case of Ohio it is by Range, Township, and Section), the type of deed, and the volume and page number of the deed book in which the transaction is recorded.



This nice tutorial Taking The Mystery Out of Land Records is helpful as a reminder or as an introduction to working with deeds as is this list of Terms used by the Register of Deeds. (There are many others “out there” on the internet, these are two that I've used in the past.)



There were four rolls of microfilm with the grantee index and five rolls with the grantor index covering the years 1798-1897. It would take nearly two full days, but I transcribed each entry in the index books for my known or presumed ancestors John D. Berlin, Henry Coy, Detrick Hoffman, John Hoffman, John Rupert, Jacob Switzer, and Conrad Yarian along with a few entries for others with the surname Rupert and Switzer..



The first day I made it through the grantee index, writing them out by hand. Then, that night back at the campground I typed each entry into a spreadsheet. Duh! Duplicate work. The next day I arranged the netbook so I could type directly into the spreadsheet. A little awkward, but it worked quite well.



After getting the entries from the grantor index entered I sorted the spreadsheet several different ways to review the data. One was attempting to match up the sale of a piece of land to its corresponding purchase, another sort was by township, and yet another by surname.



All of that was done so that I could determine which deeds should actually be looked at. There were too many of them to review them all. Top priority was given to those that were sold by “so and so, etal” (etal means “and others” which could indicate a sale by heirs of the owner of the land) and to those that were sold with a “Quit Claim” deed (sometimes indicating a sale to another family member). I then went to the Library Catalog to get the film numbers and added that information to the spreadsheet.





A small portion of my list of deeds.

I actually looked at about 1/3 of the entries on my list. I had highlighted the records that I really wanted to look at and had sorted the list by film number so I could see what else was on the same roll of microfilm. Even then, I didn't always look at everything from my list on the same roll of film – sometimes I got distracted by what I found in certain deeds and went off on another tangent looking for something else! That's the beauty of being at The Library where a wide variety of sources are available.



As I looked at the deed records I abstracted information from those that were “of interest” to me, adding that information to the spreadsheet. Some documents were scanned while others were just abstracted. There simply wasn't enough time (or even a need) to scan them all.





The spreadsheet with data added after reviewing the deed.

Was it worth the time it took to make that extensive list of land transactions? Yes, indeed! (Pun intended.) It was definitely worth it. What I found in those deed books was cause for more than one Happy Dance and in future posts, I'll summarize a few of the things I found and the discoveries which followed.

A Day in Boulder Canyon + Eldo's Yellow Spur (5.9+)

(Photo: A climber on Rewritten (5.7) in Eldorado Canyon. Shot from the top of pitch three of The Yellow Spur (5.9+).)



Two years ago I had my first opportunity to climb in Colorado. I did any easy route called The Bomb (5.4) in Eldorado Canyon with my old friend Greg while I was in the state for a family vacation.



While that experience was a lot of fun, I couldn't help but feel it was also a lost opportunity. Surrounded by legendary, challenging climbs, we had done something well below my ability level, in part because Greg was out of climbing shape and in part due to my own insecurities. After this first taste of Eldo I was determined to get more confident and come back to climb some of the storied classics in the canyon. I hoped that I would some day get the chance.



This year another August family vacation provided that chance. We were in Steamboat Springs for a week, and then planned to be close to Denver for several days before returning to NYC. While near Denver I would have a couple of days to go climbing. With thousands upon thousands of climbs nearby, the possibilities seemed endless.



I had a ready partner in my old mentor Vass. Vass had moved back to Boulder from New York last year. During the time when he lived in NYC, Vass had been one of my best partners. He had really taught me a lot. I admired his calm competence with climbing systems and his reliably good footwork. Although he regularly claimed to be out of good climbing form, he would nevertheless sail up anything I could climb and make it look effortless-- putting my clumsy efforts to shame. Vass always encouraged me to move forward. His support made me feel I was capable of doing more; it seemed I was usually at my best when climbing with Vass. I did my first 5.7, 5.8, and 5.9 leads with him. I was psyched to be climbing with him again, especially since our last climbing day hadn't really gone so well.



We met up on a Sunday and decided to spend our first day in Boulder Canyon getting reacquainted and shaking off the rust. Vass and I figured we could do some moderate sport and trad and then on our second day we could go tackle one of the bigger objectives I was looking to climb in Eldorado Canyon. There were so many long classics in Eldo to choose from, climbs like Rewritten (5.7), the Bastille Crack (5.7+) , Ruper (5.8), the Green Spur (5.9), or maybe even the Yellow Spur (5.9+). But first we'd take a day just to get loose and feel good.



I was excited to check out Boulder Canyon. It is a place with a storied history, but I was afraid I wouldn't really care for all the bolted climbs I'd heard about. (I prefer placing gear.) As we drove in, I found the canyon beautiful, but then all of these Front Range canyons are so beautiful. They really have it good in Colorado. Consistent with its history, Boulder Canyon's climbingis varied. You can find recently (over-) bolted sport climbs up slabs right next to sandbagged old traditional climbs that go up cracks.



Vass suggested we start on Tonnere Tower, a formation withmoderate climbing that unaccountably has been overlooked until relatively recently. Vass was thinking we would warm up on bolted stuff, then once we got bored do some trad climbing. Our first climb was Los Pinos (The Pines), a multi-pitch route that rises right out of the river. I led the first two pitches in one and then we rapped off. This climb has good moves and it made for a nice warm-up. I found the situation with the bolts to be rather curious. There are numerous bolts right next to bomber gear cracks the whole way up, but then the finishing roof on pitch two requires that you place your own pro. I don't know what the route developers were thinking. I couldn't quite make sense of the difficulty ratings either. I thought nothing on the 5.9 pitch two was as hard as the opening slab moves on the 5.8 pitch one. But whatever, it was a good time.







(Photo: Vass leading pitch one of Buried Treasure (5.8+).)



We then went around the corner and did two nice single-pitch sport routes, Twilight Time (5.9+ and fun) and Bobby's Back (supposedly 5.10d). Bobby's Back features rather delicate face climbing for a few moves past the second and third bolts. Though neither of us led it perfectly clean I'm pretty sure I could get it now after doing it once.



We finished our time at Tonnere Tower with a two-pitch sport route called Buried Treasure (5.8+), electing to add to it the 5.10a final pitch of Stayin' Alive. These three pitches had good climbing but if there is a move on Stayin' Alive that is harder than 5.8 I'd like you to show it to me! Putting the difficulty rating aside, Stayin' Alive was the nicest pitch we did on the tower, with good starting face moves and a fun easy dihedral.



By now we had done seven pitches and our day was slipping away. I had enjoyed the climbing so far, but I have to say my initial apprehensions were confirmed. I'd rather do trad lines up natural features than bolted lines up faces. That's just the way I am. Vass wasn't surprised. He said he wanted me to see Castle Rock, which is filled with old-school traditional climbs. We drove over there and Vass sent me up a 5.8 called Bailey's Overhang.



I could tell I was going to like this one before I even got started. Bailey's Overhang is good stuff indeed, a natural line following cracks and a corner up to a big roof. I really enjoyed leading this. I felt solid while jamming through the steep opening moves. Then I scared myself a little at the roof when I couldn't get my right foot up where I wanted it. But my back was against the left wall and there was no way I was going to fall out. After stepping down and resetting the move I got through it just fine. Vass made it look easy using holds to the left that had eluded me.







(Photo: Vass pulling through the roof on Bailey's Overhang (5.8).)



We didn't have much time left so we threw a top rope over a route just left of Bailey's called Curving Crack (5.9). I loved this one as well, and felt very good climbing it. It follows another natural line, a crack up a corner that gets steeper as it rises. Some tense laybacking with somewhat slippery hands gets it done. I wished we'd had time for me to lead it, but it was a great finish to the day.



There is a lifetime of climbing in Boulder Canyon. I'd love to go back to see more.



After our day in Boulder Canyon I decided I was climbing pretty well. I proposed we meet up early on our second day (a Monday) and head straight for my most ambitious objective in Eldorado Canyon: the Yellow Spur (5.9+). I wanted to tackle something big, and this six-pitch classic, which some call the best 5.9 in Colorado, seemed to fit the bill. I felt I was ready to lead the crux pitches.







(Photo: View of the Flatirons from the road into Eldorado Canyon.)



When we got to Eldo I was thrilled to find that the lot was almost empty. We humped up the trail to the far end of the Redgarden Wall to find the area deserted. I was very happy not to have to worry about faster parties breathing down our necks, and psyched not to have an audience for the "problematical" 5.9 first pitch.



This pitch was, for me, the crux of the whole route. It goes up a right-facing corner to a roof. There is a piton in the roof, maybe 15-20 feet off the ground, but it doesn't appear that there is any useful pro before the piton. In his recent guidebook Steve Levin warns of the potential for ground fall if you fail to make the clip at this piton. The climbing here is also a little strange and awkward. There is a good handhold on the side wall, but stepping up to the pin puts you off-balance.



Wemay have set a record by placing four (!) pieces of pro before clipping the pin. First Vass placed a piece for me off to the side before I even left the ground, which he then cleaned once I got other gear. I put a blue Alien in the first finger pocket as soon as I was done using the pocket to step up. And then I placed two equalized micro nuts in a thin seam on the side of the juggy hold on the left wall. I thought the nuts were solid, but I worried that the rock quality might be a problem. I feared that if I fell, the force of the fall would rip the good jug right off the left wall. If that happened, I'd not only hit the ground and break both my legs, but I'd also be known forever as the idiot who changed the standard start of the Yellow Spur from a 5.9 to a 5.11 by destroying the crucial hold.



As luck would have it, I didn't fall. I stemmed wide and was able to reach up, blind, to clip the pin. Then I was able to commit to the slopey rail beneath the pin and make the awkward exit from the corner.



Whew! The rest of the pitch was a breeze, traversing left to an easy roof problem. At least, I thought it was easy. Here is the place where I get to be the guy who says "in the Gunks, this roof would never be a 5.9!" Well, I thought the supposed crux 5.9 roof would probably be rated a 5.7 in the Gunks. There are great holds for the hands and feet. I sailed right over it, feeling great. Being a Gunks climber does at times have its advantages.







(Photo: Vass heading into the 5.8 pitch two hanging corner on the Yellow Spur.)



Pitch two was Vass' lead. This pitch is high quality, with a committing step up into a hanging right-facing corner and a few good 5.8 face moves up the corner to a ledge. My lead of pitch three was also fun, with mostly juggy 5.7 climbing up to an interesting 5.8 V-slot.









(Photo: Sorry for the butt shot, but this is me leading into the 5.8 slot on pitch three of the Yellow Spur.)



Pitch four of the Yellow Spur is where the real business begins again. This was Vass' lead, and while he was up there I wasn't thinking much about what he was doing, because I was preoccupied with getting mentally ready for pitch five, the hardest one on the route. But when he reached the belay and I started to come up behind him, I realized that pitch four is not something to treat lightly. It is not the pitch people talk about the most but it is challenging and pretty fantastic. I was jealous that Vass had led it. The pitch climbs easily up a huge dihedral to a roof, where an exposed, rising hand traverse takes you out and up to a pedestal belay stance. It is rated 5.8+, but I think the traverse is mentally harder than that. There are footholds but they get smaller and smaller as the position gets more and more airy. And then after you commit, turn the corner and start to move up to the pedestal, there more moves to be made before you reach the belay stance.







(Photo: Vass doing the exposed rising traverse on the 5.8+ pitch four of the Yellow Spur.)



And what a belay stance. We were now standing on a tiny shelf, something like 400 feet off the ground, at the base of the final headwall beneath the pointed summit of the Redgarden Wall's Tower One. Above me was a line of pitons showing the way up a steep face at 5.9+. The atmosphere was electric.







(Photo: Looking down on Vass at the pedestal belay below the crux pitch of the Yellow Spur.)



As I stood there I felt pretty sure I was ready. I could hardly contain my excitement. This was exactly what I'd dreamed of, two years before, when I'd first gotten a taste of Eldorado Canyon. I wanted to work hard, get fitter and better, and feel comfortable going somewhere other than the Gunks and jumping on a world-class 5.9.



I was on the verge of making the dream a reality but I had to forget all that and actually climb the thing.



Vass asked me if I wanted to look at the topo but I knew what I had to do and I just wanted to get going. We had been in the shade all morning but now we had emerged into the bright sunshine and I could feel the heat building. It was now or never and I did not want to hesitate.



The pitch is insanely great. It starts out with good holds leading up a crack. After I backed up a piton with a small cam I had to start the hard stuff, making a committing step over to the right using tiny crimps for the hands and small footholds. Once established on the face, several thin, pumpy moves up a shallow corner got me past more pins to a welcome stance. I let out a huge sigh of relief when it was done. I was elated but still had to do the mentally challenging rising traverse up to the exposed arete. Known as the "Robbins Traverse," this beautiful sequence goes at a reasonable 5.7+ but is completely devoid of gear.







(Photo: Vass working through the crux 5.9+ section of pitch five of the Yellow Spur.)



About two steps into this traverse the sequence is devious. There is a 5.7 way to do it but the crucial hold is hidden. Maybe there is an easier way to find it, but I had to make a committing step up using a fragile flake for an undercling. Feeling around with the other hand, in a very tenuous position, I was fortunate to find the right way to go. Once I found the hold, the pitch was in the bag. I lingered over every move to the arete, enjoying the scenery.









(Photo: Vass partway up the 5.6 final pitch to the top of the Yellow Spur.)




My work was done. The final pitch was Vass' lead. Levin rates it at 5.6 R, and itis easy but run out for the second half. It is a beautiful pitch, which I might liken to the arete pitch of Directissima in the Gunks-- if Directissima were several hundred feet higher. It is a fitting payoff for the route, ending the climb on a high note. Vass had no trouble with it, and seemed to enjoy it all the way to the top.







(Photo: taking in the exposure on the final pitch of the Yellow Spur.)



I also enjoyed climbing the final pitch, but as I got close to the top I got very anxious about the weather. A black cloud had suddenly rolled in as Vass began leading the pitch. Both of us felt the storm was likely to just miss us as it passed overhead but I could see rain in the distance and as I climbed I could hear the rumble of thunder growing closer and closer. The top of a pointed tower was the last place I wanted to be during an electrical storm.



Once I reached the top it fell to me to traverse the pointed "roof" of Tower One to reach the Dirty Deed rappel, which was our quickest route to the ground. This rappel route, which goes down a loose chimney, isn't recommended by Levin but on a weekday I wasn't worried about knocking rocks onto climbers below and I wanted to get down as soon as possible. The roof traverse was somewhat nerve-wracking for me, as I did it accompanied by continuing thunder and a few rain drops. I stayed on belay and placed a few pieces of gear along the traverse. (I can't imagine doing it without at least staying roped up.)







(Photo: Hiking down to the car. Goodbye, Eldo.)



Once I reached the rappel station all was well. The skies cleared and we descended without incident.



Climbing the Yellow Spur was one of the most satisfying climbing experiences I've ever had. The route follows a gorgeous line and features numerous interesting cruxes. It lives up to its billing as a destination climb.



But for me it was more than just a great climb. The Yellow Spur validated what I've been doing. I don't get outside enough. I feel like my progress is slow. But climbing the Yellow Spur provided proof that the progress is there; it is real. The whole climb felt within my limits. There was never a moment that felt out of control. We made the right choices throughout the climb and approached it in as safe and reasonable a manner as possible. I could never have climbed it in this fashion this two years ago, when I first visited Eldorado Canyon.



Thank you, Eldo! I don't know when I will ever get back again, but I can't wait.

Beautiful Boston Day

Yesterday was an absolutely perfect day in Boston. Co-Habitant rode his newly accessorised Miles.

These were all taken on the Charles River path. So beautiful!

Brooks Flyer saddle in honey, shellacked cork handlebar tape, Crane bell, Continental 27" tires, Pletscher rear rack, and old "deconstructed" handlebar bag. Still needs fenders.

Gosh, I can't believe these shots! After what seemed like weeks of rain, this was a nice break.

Desert View

From this side of the tree you can look west across the desert. You can see several cholla cactus through the tree fork. The other side of the tree looks at the dirt road that goes by the tree and the houses that are in the developement that started about five years ago. It makes me wonder just how long this tree looked upon desert and distant mountains until progress now makes it look at houses.

What Do Bike Shops Want to Sell You, and Why?

In the comments section of a post from a couple of days ago, I made a remark suggesting that bike shops have financial incentive to sell bikes and accessories separately, as opposed to bikes that do not need additional accessories. I have since received emails asking to expand on that, so let me give it a try.



First, let me just clarify that my comment was intended to describe the financial reality of profit margins, and was not meant as a value judgment of bicycle shops. Bike shops need to make money, or they will go out of business - it's as simple as that. The question is, how to do that and still act in the best interest of their customer?



Consider first, that the retail mark-up on bicycles is usually less, percentage-wise, than the retail mark-up on components and accessories. The better made the bicycle, the more this is so, as production costs for that bike are high and there is a ceiling to what most customers are willing to pay.



Essentially, this means two things:



1. It is more profitable for a bike shop to stock mass-produced bicycles that allow for higher profit margins, and



2. It is more profitable for a bike shop to sell components and accessories than it is to sell bicycles



This explains why, despite the "transportation bike craze," it is still the case that relatively few bike shops stock higher-end city bicycles, especially those imported from Europe. Not only is the potential for mark-ups on those discouraging, but these bikes tend to come complete with everything, not giving the bike shop a chance to at least benefit from the sale of accessories. This provides little incentive to go through the trouble of stocking these bicycles - which is understandable from the bike shop's point of view, but unfortunate for the customer who is shopping around for a nice bike.



So, what incentive is there for bike shops to stock high quality, complete city bicycles and to be motivated to sell them to customers in leu of maximising profits by selling bikes and accessories separately? The way I see it, it is about short-term versus long-term profits - In other words, about building enduring relationships with customers. By acting in a customer's best interest - both in terms of the kind of bicycles they choose to stock in the first place, and in terms of the purchasing suggestions they make to those who walk in off the street - the bike shop is sacrificing immediate profits for the benefits of repeat business and word of mouth advertisement that could result from this customer.



I have visited many - probably most - bike shops in greater Boston at this point, and I have had all sorts of experiences. Despite there being a large number of bike shops in our area, there is only a handful that I feel comfortable in. And for the most part, that's because memories of my early bike shopping experiences remain vivid: Which shops had either ignored me, or tried to take advantage of my blatant naivitéat the time - versus which shops took me seriously and acted in my best interest, despite not knowing whether they would ever see me again, or whether I would even buy anything from them in the first place. I remember, and I remain fiercely loyal to the few that did the latter.



What have been your experiences with bicycle shops in your area - Are they oriented more toward immediate sales, or toward long-term relationships?

More About the Lipizzan Horses

There is so much to talk about with these horses, that it is hard for me to know where to begin. Their history is fascinating. Their performance is intriguing. Their beauty is breathtaking.



I guess I will begin where we began. To visit these horses and see their free performance of their winter training, you visit the 400 acre ranch. The ranch is in Myakka City, which feels as if it is in the middle of nowhere. It's one of those you drive and drive and wonder if this is right locations. I drove past it before I realized we were there. Once you are there, they welcome you in and help you park. You park on what appears to be their lawn and then sit in the stadium area.

Both times we have visited, it has been a full crowd. While they perform, they do a great job of explaining the history of the family and the horses. The horses are the rarest breed in the world. The family has a history linked to this breed dating back to assisting General Patton's mission to save the horses when they were captured during World War II.It is a wonderful thing to see the carry on their traditions both for their family's sake and for the horses' sake.

The show is full of demonstrations of the different ways the horses were used in battle. From their website:All Airs Above the Ground, originally outlined by Xenophon the Greek, derive from defensive horsemanship created for war and predated-dated the birth of Christ by some 400 years. These spectacular leaps and plunges were originally meant for use by mounted riders to inspire terror in the hearts of foot soldiers.



That this nearly lost art remains alive, is due in very large part, to the commitment of Colonel Herrmann, scion of the Herrmann family, and historically among the world's greatest trainers of this rare breed. In a lively and informative narrative throughout the presentation of his remarkable stallions, the history, evolution and contemporary application of this most sophisticated horse and rider training is recounted. It is repeatedly noted that extreme patience and, most particularly, love are the requisites to such highly schooled animals. Herrmann epitomized the master of classical European equitation.

The horses and riders also perform some beautiful dances together. Both are amazing to watch.

As incredible as all of this is, while I was sitting there, I found myself wanting to spend hours upon hours just capturing the beauty of the horses. I took so many shots of them, I think I'm going to sneak them into the next few week's blog posts just to share them all.Living the life in Florida!

Susie Island Sunsets

For the past couple of nights the lake has been so calm I couldn't resist taking the boat out to the Susie Islands to do some shooting despite having clear, "boring" skies. On days where there aren't any clouds I find the most interesting light to be either the hour before the sun comes up or the hour after the sun goes down. Cloudless days can produce a rather beautiful glow in the sky during these times.

(Above and below: Sunset from Lucille Island)

(Above: Sunlit trees on Long Island)

(Above: Twisted tree on Big Susie Island)

(Above: Evening light on Big Susie Island)

(Above: Lichen on Lucille Island)

(Above: Small rock island off the western tip of Lucille Island)