It was one of those treasured weekdays in the Gunks. I was going climbing with Margaret, one of my longest-running climbing friends, but with whom I somehow haven't climbed outside in years. She wanted to do some easy leads. I just wanted to climb and didn't much care what we did. And with a heat wave rolling through and temperatures in the high 90s, easy leads sounded pretty good to me.
After I warmed us up with a run up Rhododendron (5.6-) we took the quick walk over to Easy Overhang, which neither of us had ever done and which Margaret wanted to lead.
(Photo: Almost through pitch one of Easy Overhang, having gone in and out of the 5.1 chimney.)
Pitch one is rated only 5.1, but the opening move (up a little flake and left to the chimney that makes up most of the pitch) sure feels harder than that. Neither Margaret nor I were at any risk of falling off, of course, but it was kind of a wake-up call. I get this same wake-up call whenever I do a super-easy climb in the Gunks. There's always a move somewhere that makes you think a little, no matter what the rating is. On Easy Overhang it comes right off the ground. It's just hard enough, I imagine, to give a brand new leader pause about what's to come, and it could cause real problems for a totally inexperienced climber. After we finished the climb, in fact, I saw a young girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen struggling mightily with these first moves of the pitch while her belayer/dad chatted on his cellular phone, oblivious. I gave her a little beta and she eventually got through it, but not without some skidding feet here and there.
Once you are established in the chimney the climb is as easy as advertised up to the bolts at the belay ledge. I thought it was pleasant, good fun. When I got to the bolts I looked up at the 5.2 pitch two and it too looked like another entertaining sandbag. The holds appeared to be plentiful but the climbing looked quite steep, and not just at the namesake overhang(s).
(Photo: Pitch two of Easy Overhang.)
Margaret set off and made quick work of it. As I followed her, enjoying the moves, I tried to imagine Hans Kraus leading it in mountain boots in 1941 (or perhaps sneakers, as he wore for the first ascent of the crux pitch of High Exposure that same year). It wasn't easy to envision. I tried to picture what this cliff was like without the lines already drawn in. I attempted to see this hunk of rock as a blank slate, as Kraus saw it; to find the line without outside influence, as he had found it. And it was hard for me to imagine that a person could look at this particular line and think it would be easily climbed with the tools of his day: clunky boots, a few pitons, hemp ropes. I resolved to try it one day-- not with hemp ropes or pitons, but maybe in mountain boots, as one internet climbing forum participant proposed somewhere a few months ago. Easy Overhang seems like the perfect climb for it. The going is steep in places, but rests are plentiful and there are great edges for stiff soles; no need for smearing. I think primitive footwear would work well, and that leading Easy Overhang in them would scare the crap out of me, in a good, safe way.
After we were done with Easy Overhang it was my turn to lead something. I couldn't resist hopping on Son of Easy O (5.8). I led it two years ago, just a few days before I broke my ankle. When I looked back on it I remembered the thin face climbing on pitch one as rather tough going, and the pitch two overhang as a surprisingly easy pleasure.
I was eager to get back on it because I've been feeling so good on the 5.8 climbs lately. I wanted to see if pitch one would seem easier this time around. I also wanted to check it out again because a few weeks ago in this space I declared Birdland to be perhaps the best 5.8 in the Gunks, and the reason I qualified my praise with that word "perhaps" was that I thought possibly Son of Easy O deserved the honor instead.
Well, pitch one was still tense the second time around. Maybe the heat was a factor. Maybe my performance was also affected by the fact that the party before us elected to rap from the pins near the top (this requires two ropes or a 70 meter single) and dropped their rope on me while I was negotiating the crux. (They were actually nice guys; they realized this was an error and then waited until I said it was okay before they dropped the other end.) Whatever the reason, I thought this was one of the hardest, and best, 5.8 pitches I've done at the Gunks. It just doesn't stop coming. It is steep for 15 or 20 feet, with thin moves past the pin and the little left-facing corner. Then the angle eases but the thin moves continue. You are over your feet so you don't pump out, but there isn't much in the way of a rest stance until you are practically at the ledge. It's just one thoughtful move after another, with great, abundant pro, the whole way. So good.
I wonder if this pitch feels harder than it used to because it is so popular. The route is polished, so much so that you can pick out the line from the carriage road by the streak of polish going up the wall.
I know it is fashionable these days to combine pitches one and two but it was so hot out I thought it might be nice to take a break between the pitches. I also wanted to experience the traverse over to the overhang at the start of pitch two again, and this traverse is skipped when the pitches are combined. So I angled up left at the ledge and belayed at the traditional spot at the end of pitch one. After Margaret arrived at the belay ledge (remarking as she finished climbing that she couldn't believe pitch one was only a 5.8) I set off on pitch two.
(Photo: In the thick of pitch two of Son of Easy O (5.8).)
Again my impressions of two years ago were more or less confirmed. After a slightly dicey step into the traverse, which requires a move or two before you can get good pro in, the pitch is steep, with great holds and gear as you move up into the overhanging corner. Then it is over before you know it. I made the traversing moves, thinking things were getting pumpy in a hurry. Then I stepped up to the pin, telling myself I'd better keep it moving. I placed a dynamite back-up cam to the right of the pin. I moved up and placed another cam in a horizontal. I thought about whether it was worth the energy I would have to expend to improve this last placement... and then I looked to the right and realized the hard stuff was already done. One step around the corner to the right and the pitch was in the bag.
Having done both pitches of Son of Easy O again I have to say it is a close call, but I don't think it is the best overall 5.8 in the Gunks. If the second pitch were just a bit longer it might get the nod. The first pitch is amazing, the second is only very good. In addition, the climb is a victim of its own popularity; it is getting quite polished on the first pitch. Regardless of these small caveats, it is certainly still among the best 5.8s, and it deserves of every one of its three stars.
But Birdland remains the champ as far as I'm concerned.
The Co-Habitant's Pashley Roadster Sovereign has not made an appearance here in some time, but today he demanded to be featured by posing handsomely next to this beautiful "burning bush." The Co-Habitant loves this bicycle. He has been commuting to work on it since May, and says that it only gets more comfortable with time and that he is even happier with it now than on the day he got it. That is a pretty glowing review! Lately, he even seems to prefer the Pashley for longer rides, like the 25 mile trip we made today.
He is also extremely pleased with the B33 saddle, which is super-sprung to support the weight of a large man in an upright sitting position (the Co-Habitant is around 6ft and 200lb).
Tall, dark, handsome and brooding. Perfect.
You can't really tell in this photo, but the bicycle is enormous for someone with my body-frame. The saddle reaches past my waist, the handlebars to my armpits, and I can't clear the top tube. Still, I like to pose with it and pretend that I can ride it. It is a beautiful bicycle and a great partner to my Eustacia.
English Roadsters were designed for long country rides, and there is nothing quite like experiencing them in this setting. My 
The Co-Habitant is a strong cyclist and he likes to go fast. When we are on equivalent bicycles (for example, both on our 
And the vintage 
If my devious plan to install a coaster brake on this bicycle works out, it will be so perfect that I am almost afraid to think about it lest I jinx it. For now, we dream as we watch the sunset.
I didn't plant any daffodils last fall but did have this one come up from some I had planted before. It was the only one. Daffodils are one of my favorite flowers but they don't like to do well here in the desert where the wind has a habit of burying them to deep with sand for them do to well after the first year.
My mother holding her firstborn child, Charles Douglas "Doug" Wiseman. Two months shy of her birthday, Mom was not quite 19 years old when Doug was born in March 1947. In the next two years, two more children would be born, me and Jack Lynn. Four and a half years after Jack was born, my sister Teresa Jane arrived on the scene.
Contributed to the 1st Edition of the Smile for the Camera Carnival. 
Here is 
This is a popular cycling route in the Boston area. I first went through the Minuteman Trail and then cycled on the road (Route 62 W) for an additional 5.5 miles. At the end of the Minuteman Trail, I overheard a pair of road cyclists - dressed in full lycra and on super-high-tech bikes - discussing whether they should go to Concord or choose a different direction. One of them said that the route to Concord is really hilly and he didn't feel like dealing with that. This alarmed me, but I decided to start cycling in that direction anyway just to see how it is. If too hilly, I would simply turn back. Well, clearly that did not happen - which makes me wonder how to interpret the super-roadcyclist's comment. The terrain was completely manageable on a 12-speed bicycle.
Hills or no hills, I loved cycling on Route 62. There are few cars, plenty of shade even at mid-day, fresh air, and often a shoulder to cycle on. Along the way are farms, picturesque New England houses, old cemeteries, and stretches of woods. This is my dream landscape for touring, and I wonder whether Route 62 West continues to be just as nice further West? If you are local, please let me know.
It took me about 1 1/2 hours to arrive to Concord center from my house, not counting a coffee stop along the way. Since it is an 18-mile route, this means I was going an average of 12 mph: slow and steady, which is probably a good way to start for someone like me.
Concord, Massachusetts is a fascinating town from a historical perspective - having been home to Emerson, Thoreau and Hawthorne, among others. Its most famous site is probably Walden Pond, but I intentionally did not cycle in that direction because I want to visit it with the Co-Habitant. Instead, Marianne and I explored the town center.
It was Easter Sunday, and the people out on the streets were an amusing mix of churchgoers in their Sunday best and cyclists in skin-tight black and neon lycra.
The mood in the town center was festive.
No businesses were open except for a couple of cafes, but it was fascinating just to walk around the streets and observe.
For such a tiny town, Concord is home to a staggering number of churches. I think there were close to a dozen in the center alone.
Aside from churches, I noticed an abundance of landmark signs that refer to things that were once in that spot, but no longer are: trees that have been felled, streams that have been drained and built upon, mills and historical homes that have been demolished, etc.
There is a feeling of living in the past that the town seems to intentionally embrace - from the quaint storefronts on Main Street, to other nostalgic details here and there, like this antique bicycle next to a popular food market. I wonder whether the area around Walden Pond has a similar feel to it. Hopefully we will visit there soon.
After spending about an hour and a half in Concord, I headed back - via Route 62 again and then the Minuteman Trail. Not much was in bloom along the trail yet, but it was good to be there for the first time since November. Despite it being Easter Sunday, the path was not too crowded and I returned home in good time.
For my first mini-tour involving road cycling and a specific destination, I thought this went well. I ate at well-spaced intervals and did not get tired. In general, I feel that my endurance of long rides is determined more by comfort than physical ability: pain begins to bother me before I have the chance to grow tired. In the past, the major problems were saddle discomfort (the Brooks Flyer Special refused to break in no matter what), handlebar discomfort (too much weight placed on the hands would result in pain), and generally feeling not entirely in control of this bicycle. The control problem has been solved now. And after the latest raising of the saddle, the Flyer feels much better. The handlebars remained an issue simply because the mountain bike hand position of the Milan bars is not good for long rides. My hands did not go numb during this trip, but I felt that it would happen soon if I kept going. I have now found a solution to this, and will write about it in the next post.
Visit Period: December 
There was aninteresting postonecoveloyesterday, where the author compared how he uses his three transportation bikes: aRivendellSam Hillborne, aSurlyLong Haul Trucker, and aCiviaLoring. All three bicycles are set up with upright handlebars and decent load carrying capacity, but the Civia differs from the other two in that it has a fairly low stepover. And according to the author, the combination of its "upright riding position, step-through frame, and internal gear hub make[s] the Loring exceptionally confidence inspiring for riding slowly when in close proximity to pedestrians and automobile traffic." Initially, I read past that sentence with the kind of matter-of-fact acceptance that goes with processing what you already consider to be a given. Butthen later I mentally "rewound" and thought "Wait a minute, he is saying that he finds it more comfortable to ride a step-through in traffic than a diamond frame - Is this a generally accepted notion?"