(Photo: Approaching the huge roof on Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10a).)
This past weekend was just beautiful. It was autumn at its best in the Hudson Valley, with crisp mornings, followed by moderate temperatures and abundant sunshine.
In other words: perfect climbing weather!
I was psyched to get out for a day with Adrian, especially since this was quite likely going to be my last Gunks day of . Two of the remaining three weekends in November are already booked up with family activities, and who knows what the weather will be like on my few remaining potential climbing days this month. Climbing in December is always a possibility, but a remote one. So this really could be it for the year.
As is the case every year, there is so much left undone.
But this has been a year of real accomplishment for me as a climber.
I got in better shape last winter and once the climbing season got under way I finally got my mojo back. I began to feel more like the climber I'd been in , before I broke my ankle in a climbing accident. This new/old me felt solid, confident, and hungry for harder climbs.
As I've chronicled here on my blog, I started leading 5.9 climbs in the Gunks again. I led a whole bunch of them this year, for the most part with great success. My goal was to become solid in 5.9, with the idea that I could go anywhere in the world and jump on a 5.9 and be sure that it would be well within my comfort zone.
I can't say I've quite reached that goal. The kind of climbing the Gunks offers is just too limited for that. Certainly my four days of climbing in the Adirondacks this year demonstrated to me that I'm not a solid 5.9 leader if the climbing involves vertical cracks and jamming. I'm sure that if I went to Yosemite, to cite another example, and tried to lead a typical Tuolumne 5.9-- featuring long runout slabs and oceans of fragile knobs-- I'd have my ass handed to me there as well.
But I feel good about the progress I've made in the Gunks on its brutish overhangs and thin face climbs. I've tried to keep stepping forward while at the same time being reasonable. I am convinced that you can make progress, climb hard, and still be careful. So far it all seems like it's making sense, most of the time.
I had another goal this year that I have not talked about so much.
I wanted to lead at least one Gunks 5.10 before the year was over.
I didn't necessarily care if I sent it onsight. It didn't have to go perfectly. I could take a fall, I figured, so long as I protected the hard moves well and kept things in control. Even if the climbing proved too difficult for me, if in the end I felt I'd done things right and protected myself well, then I'd regard the climb as a success and something I could build upon.
All year I had certain candidates in mind, climbs that had a reputation for being soft for 5.10 and for having good pro at the crux, like The Dangler or Wegetables, to name just two possibilities.
But as the year wore on I started to think I'd never really do it. And why push? This year's goal was 5.9. Why not make 5.10 the goal for next year?
Then a few weeks ago I went out climbing with my eight-year-old son Nate. We were climbing with another dad/son duo I met through my kids' school. The dad used to be a regular Gunks hardman and his son, who is Nate's age, is also into climbing. I thought if we all went out together it might inspire my son to get a little more interested in climbing. (Alas, it didn't work out that way. Nate gamely tried a few climbs, mostly just to humor me, but he was not converted.)
We were climbing at Lost City. I'd never been there before. After all these years it was nice to finally go out there and check the place out! I didn't get to try any of the legendary climbs there, because I was too busy setting up 5.4's for my son. But I saw something that really inspired me: a fourteen-year-old boy attempting to lead Stannard's Roof.
The young man actually lives in my apartment building, though we'd never met before. (Small world!) He'd spent a few weeks this summer at a rock climbing camp in Maine and had recently led his first 5.9's in the Gunks. But today he'd elected to try Stannard's Roof, which upped the ante significantly. The route is reputed to go at "easy" 5.10, and though the roof is very large-- it requires getting truly horizontal for a couple body lengths-- the holds are quite positive, or so I am told.
The boy couldn't do it. He made several efforts, getting up into the roof, placing good pro, then climbing down and resting. He repeatedly got up to his high point, decided he couldn't hang on, and came back down. Eventually he downclimbed to a fixed anchor and retreated.
Watching him, I was impressed with his good sense. He didn't just run it out and go for it. He wanted to do it right and in control. And when he knew he wasn't going to make it, he backed down.
His effort on Stannard's Roof reawakened my desire to hop on a 5.10 of my own. This kid was doing EXACTLY what I should be doing. I resolved to find a 5.10 like this, with good pro and clean falls, and get up into it. Whether I succeeded or failed, I knew it would be good for me.
So when Adrian and I got out last weekend I was determined to find the right 5.10. Ultimately I decided on Beatle Brow Bulge. It seemed like one of the easier 5.10 climbs. It was historically rated 5.9+ until Dick Williams boosted its rating to 5.10a in his 2004 guidebook. It seemed to me like strenuous climbing, but juggy and unmysterious. I'd just have to hang in there and keep moving. And it looked like I'd find good pro out the roof, so that any fall would be into the air.
Most of all the route just looked awesome. The roof is HUGE.
(Photo: Grabbing the holds under the roof on Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10a). The real business starts with the next step up.)
Dick Williams lists the climb as having a first pitch consisting of 50 feet of 5.3 climbing up to a stance beneath the roof. I didn't see any point in stopping half-way and decided in advance to just do the whole thing in one pitch.
As I approached the roof it seemed to get bigger and bigger. My main concern was where I would place pro. I wanted something in the roof, not below it. And I wanted the piece to be out several feet from the wall, so if I fell I wouldn't slam right into the cliff.
There is a big block that sticks out like a thumb below the roof level. This block has chalk all over it, although it is not a necessary handhold. (It is a very useful foothold once you're in the business.) It appears a # 2 Camalot would go nicely in the space between this block and the roof, but I decided against using this placement. I was worried about the rock quality. It appeared to me that this block may not be well attached to the cliff. The last thing I wanted was to send a death block the size of a microwave down on Adrian.
Instead I found a great spot for a yellow Alien. (A yellow Metolius or yellow C3 may also work.) The cam goes in just above the two crucial first handholds in the roof; the spot is right above where my right hand is in the above photo. I was able to place this cam before committing to the roof, and it gave me great peace of mind as I started the moves.
(Photo: Getting into the roof! My right foot is on the thumb/death block that I avoided placing pro behind.)
One step up and I was really into it, fully horizontal beneath the big ceiling. The hands and feet were great, but it was strenuous. Immediately I reached over my head and placed a perfect red Camalot at the lip of the roof. I wanted to extend it with a runner but I knew the clock was ticking and I had to get moving. So I just clipped it direct, hoping it was close enough to the lip that it wouldn't create too much drag. (It worked out fine.)
Once I made that clip, everything was going to be okay. It was a piece off of which you could hang a truck, and below me was a totally clean fall into air. I could hear Adrian yelling his approval. "Yeah! Now go!"
And so I went, for once totally in the flow of the moves and not even thinking about the consequences of blowing it. The holds are great; there are no devious sequences. It's strictly a matter of hanging in there and continuing to move upward.
(Photo: getting over the big roof.)
Once I was over the roof, the pumpiness of the route really set in. It was still quite steep and after I moved up and placed more pro I started to worry that I might pop off. I stepped up again and placed another cam, then tried to shake out a little.
I decided maybe I should take a hang, just to be safe.
"Adrian, can you take?" I shouted.
But Adrian wasn't having it. He didn't pull in the ropes.
"Really??" he yelled. "It looks like you're almost there! Don't you want to keep going?"
"I'm just so pumped!" I shouted back.
(Photo: In the final pumpy territory on Beatle Brow Bulge (5.10a).)
But then I looked up and I realized he was right. The angle eased in another two moves. I could do this.
I got back to moving and in another couple steps got to a real rest stance. I was so grateful that Adrian hadn't let me take a hang. Instead of noble failure, I had sweet, sweet success. I had done it. I had led my first (alleged) 5.10 trad route in the Gunks, onsight. It was an amazing feeling.
I finished the climb as Dick Williams suggests, heading to the right as soon as I was level with a tree ledge with an anchor. We were using doubles, but it appeared to us that you could reach the ground from this first station with a single 60 meter rope. There is another station at the next ledge, up another 30 feet or so through dirty, low-angled territory. This higher station is attached to a much bigger tree, but you'd need double ropes or maybe a single 70 meter to use it.
As I stood at the station waiting for Adrian to join me, I felt a great satisfaction with not just this one climb, but the whole year. I am so lucky to have gotten out to climb as much as I have, and to have made real progress over the course of the season. I may get another day or two on the rock before is over, but if the weather sucks for the rest of November I'll still be happy. I hope I can keep improving and make this climb not just a peak climb for one climbing year, but a preview of numerous 5.10's to come. This winter I'll have strong motivation to work to make this 5.10 just the first of many.
Steve has one too. So does Dick. I want one... (photo courtesy of Cheryl Palmer)
This is the full view of the roadrunner with the horned toad climbing up the tree truck.
There are so many things about this season that I cherish. I love the changing colors of leaves, the smell of cinnamon baking together with apples in a pie, the smooth, creaminess of butternut squash soup (one of my favorite fall dishes).... and what better time to go for a hike then on a chilly day in October - wrapped in a fleece, wool hat and gloves, with few people around, it's hard to not enjoy these types of days. The latter is how I spent last Sunday, walking among fall foliage, listening to 
the birds overhead retreating south for the winter (they don't know what they're 
missing!) and the occasional rustle of branches as the deer grazed the final savory green bits before they too head down hill into the depths of the forests, protected for a while from the incoming nordic weather. My goal was simple - scout out the first half of the hike to Muir for the blog and report back to all our adoring fans (that's you) and be done. But my hike offered so many beautiful views and such a dynamic experience I couldn't leave it at a simple "Snowfield & Camp Muir Update".
on ceremony is open to the public and begins at 3:00 pm. Everyone is welcome to join us, along with some distinguished guests that include the Secretary of the Interior, our Regional Director and representatives from several local tribes, in celebrating this momentous occasion. The doors of the visitor center open to the public at 10 am on Friday. Building tours will be held at noon, 1:00 and 2:00 pm, leading up to the dedication ceremony, which starts off with the cutting of ribbon and finishes with the cutting of cake. If you have to miss the festivities, no worries, the new JVC will be operational on weekends from 10 am until 5 pm. Check the Park's most up to date Tahoma News for events and additional 
operational hours during the holiday season. 
Bears have been a common sight up at Paradise, but they usually are easy to scare and often flee once spotted. However, on my way down I noticed a group of visitors and several rangers eyeing a young cub that was fearlessly gorging himself within view of the Paradise Inn (And many spectators!). The cub's multi-colored hair was fitting, giving off a retro look, as though this capricious young cub had purposely highlighted his hair blond and spiked it up in defiance. The presence of law enforcement was a sign that the National Park takes their policy on NOT feeding wildlife very seriously, which is a ticketable offense at Mount Rainier and carries a fine of up to $100. View animals from a distance and please DO NOT feed them. 
Not only was I able to enjoy the splendors of Autumn, but I also received a glimpse of Winter - not far away it seems. Recent precipitation brought snow above tree line, creating a stark contrast on the hillsides; a white band above and green below. Within a mile or so of Paradise you can walk from Fall into Winter, it's quite an amazing experience really. Snow coated the ground from well below Panorama Point and then up, covering the recently turned red leaves of shrubs and lingering flowers that managed to keep their petals this long. 
On my descent, several folks inquired as to the 'views'. Hikers may not have seen Mount Rainier on Sunday, but there was plenty more out there to enjoy, you just need to take the time and look. I only wish I had been going further along up the trail to Camp Muir. Conditions there this weekend were snowy and windy, but many times the clouds parted above, exposing a starlit sky and tranquil surroundings. With few climbers going up this time of 
year, anyone in search of some peace and quiet and a way to escape the hustle and bustle of the city, will enjoy the solace at 10,000 feet. Just be prepared for some cooler weather and snow. Check out recent conditions posted about the Disappointment Cleaver route.
In discussions of a bicycle's ride quality, one thing that always comes up is stability. We want a bike that is stable and we complain when it is not.Of course the problem with "stability" is that the concept is largely dependent on our skill level and cycling background. Those who are unaccustomed to riding roadbikes will often find them unstable at first, while those who ride roadbikes exclusively will often find upright bikes unstable. This does not mean that either is actually unstable, but rather that the two cyclists are used to radically different means of weight distribution. Similarly, what's "unstable" to one cyclist can be "responsive" to another. It seems that perception of stability has at least as much to do with the person riding the bicycle as it does with the bicycle itself. How useful is it, then, to tell a salesperson or a framebuilder that we want a bicycle that is stable? And how useful is that term in reviews? Clearly we need further qualification.
Starting from a stop
Cycling at fast speeds, downhill
Rough surfaces
Cycling with a loadFinally, whereas a bicycle might feel perfectly stable unloaded, some notice that introducing weight in the front basket or on the rear rack can disrupt that stability. Most of the time, this happens with a front rather than rear load: the bicycle begins to weave or wobble if the front is overloaded. There can be a myriad of causes for this, and subsequently a myriad of ways to deal with them. Generally speaking, carrying weight lower on the bike (i.e. not mounting a basket on the handlebars) is said to improve stability. But some bicycles are just not intended for a front load no matter what.
While it might be difficult to express what we mean by stability, breaking it down into specifics can be helpful - both in communicating with others and in gaining more insight into our own preferences. In attempting to understand the nuances of ride quality, it continues to amaze me how the same idea can be echoed by so many people, yet mean something slightly (or even not so slightly) different to each. Does a novice who finds their bicycle unstable need a different bike, or merely wider tires? Could be either.
Climbers strive to push the boundary of their sport to new limits every day – faster ascent times (see the recent post about Justin Merle’s new unofficial speed summit record), more difficult routes, and even multi-sport athletic events. In the case of Randall Nordfors, he turned a simple guided summit climb with International Mountain Guides (IMG) into a full-on endurance race. Not only did he set out to bicycle a total of 162 miles from Puget Sound to Paradise and back, but he threw in a single push speed summit. If this trip wasn’t challenging enough, Nordfors set himself two personal goals: #1 Summit in under 12 hours and #2 Complete the entire trip in less than 20 hours. 
According to Nordfors, other than the actual physical conditioning required to complete this sort of endurance event, the two most important aspects of his training was eating when your body didn’t want to, and staying focused and mentally alert while your body is completely exhausted. As a retired competitive bicycle racer, Nordsfors is not new to intense training and challenges. Although only a novice climber, Nordfors, 45, decided that after his retirement from racing a few years ago, he wanted to try new things and test the ability of his body to new limits. His trip from Puget Sound to Summit certainly proved to be a worthy challenge, and although Nordfors achieved both of his lofty goals, he is not completely satisfied with his bicycle ride from Tolmie Park to Paradise and will attempt to improve his time in a another epic tour. Best of luck on your next adventure Randall!
We made our way to the church, opposite the Queen's Head pub.
This fine gateway may once have been the main entrance to Bulwick Hall.
After a bit of off-track wandering we found the correct route on the opposite side of the A43. It is marked at each side, but the signs are not clear, though there are better ones just away from the road itself. 
apparently erected in 2000 by or to EB and MB sacred to the memory of their parents (Brudenell , who live at Deene House). More infoor at any rate some entertaining guesses.
Then back to the village hall.
There was an old dusty bicycle lying around in my parents' garage when I was growing up. I had nearly forgotten it until they mentioned it recently. I asked my father to take some photos, not expecting anything special. Well, these are the photos he sent!
I don't want to get my hopes up, but from the pictures the bicycle appears to be restorable. Look at that beautiful head badge!
The brakes and the 3-speed gear shift (which I hope is the original Sturmey-Archer) look like they might be functional.
The chain ring with the herons design! Of course the rusted out chain will need to be replaced.
Decals are largely intact. The model can be identified as the Lady's Sports. Going by the information here, I am thinking it is late 60's-early'70s.
Saddle is the Brooks B72, most likely original.