Wild Things

Their hard to see 'cause the little critters don't let me get close to them. Photos were taken through the window. First one is of a Harris Ground Squirrelflattened out on the ground in the shade trying to stay cool in our heat. Second is of one by a pot of flowers. Theselookkind of like a very pale colored chipmunk like is found in the mountains.











A scaled quail coming in for water.




An English house sparrow.











This roadrunner has been coming in ever day at about 2pm. Here he drank, jumped on post and across to another where you can only see his tail. We have had lots of rabbits, and some large rock squirrels, as well as coyotes, and lots of other birds. An owl calls every evening and part of the night.

How Do You Choose a Winter Bike?

With the snow bound to arrive any week now, I am hearing local cyclists talk about "winter bikes" again. Before my first winter of cycling, the very notion surprised me. You're supposed to ride a different bike in the winter than you do during the rest of the year? why?? But then I understood that not everyone's transportation bicycle is a "tank" that is already winter-proof. Some bikes are more suitable for winter conditions than others. And while there is no one bicycle that is universally considered to be the ideal winter bike, there are certain characteristics most cyclists would probably agree are beneficial for winter commuting in snowy climates:




Stability:One reason the number of cyclists decreases so dramatically in the winter, is that cycling on ice and snow is scary. On the right bike, it is much less so. A winter bicycle should handle well on slippery, snowy, muddy and plow-ravaged winter roads. City bicycles and mountain bikes tend to do best in this respect. Those who commute on aggressive bikes during the warmer months may prefer a more relaxed and more upright bike for winter, with wider tires. If there is a great deal of snow where you live, studded tires could be a good idea, or at least knobby tires. Tame, predictable handling becomes much more important than speed in the winter months. Stepover is another factor to consider. A slippery road surface can make it easier to lose one's balance when mounting and dismounting a bike, and even those who normally ride diamond frames might prefer their winter bike to have a step-though frame or a sloping top tube.




Reliability:Related to the above, it is important that the bicycle's crucial functions - in particular, braking power and shifting ability - are not compromised by winter conditions. Rim brakes and derailleur gears can function poorly (or not at all) if clogged with snow or frozen over, which is why many prefer for their winter commuter to haveenclosed hub brakes and hub (or single speed) gearing.




Durability:Understandably, cyclists may not want to expose their nice bikes to freezing temperatures and road salt, for fear that doing so might damage the frame and components. This is why some recommend getting a "beater bike" for the winter. Personally I am uncomfortable with this advice, because a beater bike is unlikely to be reliable (see above). The approach I prefer is to get a bike that is not vulnerable to the elements in the first place. A tough paintjob, stainless and aluminum components where possible, hub gears and a chaincase should get your bike through the winter relatively unscathed with little maintenance.




Visibility: Not only does it get dark much earlier in the winter months, but snowfall can further decrease visibility - making good lighting more crucial than ever.




Presentability:Just because it's winter, does not mean that we are no longer expected to look presentable at work. With road conditions messier than ever, it is important that a winter bicycle be equipped with features that protect the cyclist's clothing: full fenders, and ideally a chaincase or chainguard.




Taken together, these features suggest a number of candidates that could work especially well as winter bikes. If buying new, fully equipped classic city bikes are worth looking into: They already offer hub gears, hub brakes, a full chaincase, a resilient powdercoated frame, stable handling, generous fenders and reasonably wide tires. Recently I wrote about city bikes with mountain bike heritage, which might be particularly appropriate due to their super-stable handling. For those who prefer to put a bike together from scratch, frames with horizontal dropouts (suitable for hub and single speed conversion) and clearances for reasonably wide tires are now easily available from a number of manufacturers: Soma, Surly, Rawland, Rivendell, Salsa and Velo Orange are just a few that come to mind. For extreme conditions there are even all-terrain models that will fit monstrously wide tires, such as the Surly Pugsley and Moonlander, and the Salsa Mukluk. If you prefer to refurbish a used bicycle, an old mountain bike converted to a single speed and fitted with some upright handlebars could work nicely. Same with a vintage 3-speed, fitted with a modern wheelset with hub brakes.




It goes without saying that not everything mentioned here will be applicable to every cyclist who reads this. The kind of winter bike that is ideal for you will depend on everything from the harshness of your winters, to the character of your route, to your bike handling skills, to your bike storage situation, to the amount of time you are willing to devote to bike maintenance, and to the type of clothing you wear when cycling for transportation. Your current bike may already be a winter bike, either as is or with minor modifications. Or you may need to get an additional bike specifically for winter cycling. My own preference gravitates toward classic city bicycles, and those I've owned have made great winter bikes. But I've been increasingly curious to try a mountain bike with knobby tires and see how that compares. What is your idea of a winter bike?

They've got just a little bling.

The vast majority of my ancestors were not well-to-do folk. They were mostly farmers and their wealth consisted mainly of family and friends, rather than material things. But every once in a while I come across a picture that makes me wonder if some of them really weren't all that poor. Case in point is the photograph below, which depicts my great-grandmother Amanda Minerva Alexander Wiseman. The fancy dress isn't one that a farmer's wife would wear on a daily basis. I wonder, just what was the occasion?

The picture is not dated. Amanda was born on September 25, 1860 and was the first of four children of William and Rachel (Van Curen) Alexander. Amanda was married to Samuel Bray Wiseman on June 7, 1883 (her sister Laura married Sam's brother Henry).

From this other picture and several others of the Alexander siblings from my Dad's collection, I think that the Alexander's were one of the more affluent families in my lineage. Although with a total of 19 children between them (he was married twice and she once before they married each other), I don't see how William and Rachel managed. Of course, all of the children didn't live with them at the same time (the first one was born in 1841 and the last in 1868). Undoubtedly, the later children had it better than the earlier ones.

The photograph below (not a good copy of a copy, but the best I have) was taken earlier. Based on the ages of the children, probably about 1892/3.

Amanda and Sam Wiseman with their children.
Charles (my grandfather, born 1885), Goldie (born 1890), and Smith (born 1888).
Contributed to the "Bling, ancestor Bling" edition of Smile for the Camera.

Clean or Dirty?

When I put my Pashley Princessup for sale last week, I had been planning to wash the bicycle before showing her to potential buyers. But things happened fast, and the Princesswas purchased just as she was. And the surprising thing is, she looked absolutely clean even without having undergone a washing.Examining the shiny frame with just a few specks of dust here and there, you would never knowthat this bicycle had seen a year of use, including having lived through a New England winter. Not only were there no scratches on the finish, but there were no mud stains either. I am not sure how exactly that's possible, but there it is. Is powdercoating not only durable, but somehow stain resistant? Seems unlikely.



In contrast, my poorRivendell Sam Hillborne is absolutely filthy after less than 4 months of use. I will spare you the close-ups of the dirty parts, but he seems to attract mud and grime like honey attracts flies. I am not a person who washes their bicycles after every ride, and I never will be. And while I expected the exposed components on a roadbike to gather dirt, it never occurred to me that the very finish of a bicycle could be dirt-prone or dirt-resistant. The pretty liquid paint on the Rivendell is delicate compared to the thick powdercoat on bicycles like the Pashley and the Gazelle and it is much easier to nick. But does liquid coat also require more cleaning than powdercoat? That is not something I had ever heard before, so I am wondering about others' experience.



Do your bicycles seem to stay clean on their own, or do they require constant washing? And while I do not mind the look of a dirty bicycle, I am wondering whether leaving the Rivendell like this for long can result in any sort of damage or corrosion? Your thoughts appreciated!

Lysander and Lydia Robison Joslin

In about two weeks I'll be going to Springfield, Missouri to attend the fourth reunion of the Descendants of Lysander and Lydia Robison Joslin (DLLRJ). Held every two years, the first DLLRJ reunion was in August .. in Springfield, Missouri. The picture at right is my mother and her sister, Pat, standing in front of "the wall" of descendants. Lysander and Lydia are my 3rd great-grandparents.

In July .. the reunion was in Monroe, Louisiana and in August .. it was in Whitley County, Indiana. The gathering is a little late this year because there was so much going on with the various families. That and the fact that families are scattered all across the United States (New York, Virginia, North Carolina, Alabama, Louisiana, Indiana, Wyoming, Missouri, New Mexico and elsewhere) added to the complexity.

Lysander Price Joslin was born May 1, 1825 in Delaware County, Ohio and was the son of James and Abigail Goodrich Joslin. Lydia Robison, the daughter of Henry and Anna McMorron (or McMorrow or McMorran - another of my "roadblocks" to be discussed in a future post) was born October 10, 1825 in Champaign County, Ohio. Lysander and Lydia met up in Whitley County, Indiana where they were married on August 23, 1843 when Lysander was 18 years old and Lydia was 17. Between November 1844 and June 1868, Lydia would give birth to 15 children, 5 of whom would not live beyond their third year. (Photo at right: Lysander and Lydia Joslin, received from Harry Joslin, Jr.)

If you were to go by census records alone, you would think that Lysander and Lydia lived in Whitley County, Indiana continuously from 1850 through 1870, but you would be wrong. Records show that in October 1866 Lysander and Lydia sold their land in Whitley County and headed west with all of their living children. The oldest daughter, Anna Eliza, had married William Klingaman the previous October and records of them were found in Jefferson County, Iowa. The last two children of Lysander and Lydia were born in Iowa in June 1868; they were the twins Elmer and Elmus. Elmer died within a month of his birth and is presumably buried in Iowa.

In March of 1867, Lysander filed a law suit against the man who had purchased the land in Whitley county. Seems the fellow had not made the mortgage payments as promised. A Whitley County deed record of May 25, 1868 shows that the land was sold at auction and purchased by Lysander Joslin. It is not known when Lysander and Lydia returned to Whitley County though it would have been after the birth of the twins and prior to the 1870 Federal Census. All of their children, except for Anna Eliza, returned to Whitley County with them.

On January 8th 1877 Lysander and Lydia once again sold their property in Whitley County. They kept possession until March 1st so it is presumed that the family didn't leave until the spring of 1877. This time they went to Barton County, Kansas. They are found in the 1880 Federal Census in Cheyenne Township. In the 1885 Kansas State Census they are in Odin Township, Barton County.

Of the 10 adult children of Lysander and Lydia, all except Malissa left Whitley County. Some of the children remained in Kansas near their parents, but others moved on to Okalahoma, Colorado, Montana, South Dakota, Washington, South Carolina, and Missouri. One possibly went to California.

Found online in February .. were these two items from "Barton County, Kansas Newspaper Gleanings: Short stories from Barton County newspapers gleaned for your edification and entertainment."

• Hoisington Dispatch -- Thursday, June 12, 1890: Mr. H. P. JOSLIN, of near Odin, was a caller Saturday and ordered the Hoisington paper sent to his address.
• Hoisington Dispatch -- Thursday, July 10, 1890: L. P. JOSLIN was in from Odin Friday and reported a very heavy hail storm in his vicinity the night before. Much damage was done to wheat, corn and fruit. Mrs. JOSLIN lost about fifty little chickens and twenty-five turkeys by the storm.

By 1895, Lysander and Lydia had moved to Melvern Township, Osage County, Kansas. The Kansas State Census for that year shows the following summary of statistics relating to their farm:

• Production of Agriculture: 40 acres, 38 under cultivation. 130 rods of hedge fence and 100 rods of wire fence. Cash Value of farm is $1,000. There are 30 farming implements. Will plant 30 acres of corn in the spring of 1895.
• Has 100 Bushels of corn on hand 3/1/1895. Cut 3 tons of tame hay in 1894 and 40 tons of prairie cut. Sold $100 worth of poultry and eggs. Made 800 pounds of butter. Has 3 horses, 8 milch cows, 18 other head of cattle, and 80 swine. Sold $500 worth of animals for slaughter.
• Has 100 apple trees, 30 peach trees and 12 cherry trees. Made 5 gallons of wine in year ending 3/1/1895, has 2 bee stands and 1 dog.

On January 26, 1899, the day after Lydia passed away her obituary was published in the "Current Remark". This newspaper was published in Lyndon, Osage County by James Downey "J.D." Quillen, son-in-law of Lysander and Lydia.

"Lydia R., wife of L.P. Joslin of our neighborhood, died yesterday morning, January 25th, after about a week's illness of pneumonia. The funeral occurred at 11 o'clock to-day at the Baptist church in Lyndon, and the body will be laid to rest in the Lyndon cemetery. Mrs. Joslin was born in Urbana, Ohio, October 10, 1825, and was married to L.P. Joslin in August, 1843. She united with the Methodist church at the age of sixteen and was elected a life member of the North Indiana Conference, but in after years she united with the Baptist people, and at the time of her death was a member of the Lyndon Baptist Church."

After the death of his wife, Lysander sold his farm and moved to Keighly, Butler County, Kansas to live with his daughter, Minerva Knight. Lysander died less than four months after Lydia. His obituary was published in the Columbia City Weekly Commercial, Whitley County, Indiana on May 31st.

"The death of L.P. Joslin occurred last Sunday, May 14th, at the home of his daughter and son-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. William Knight, at Keighly, Butler county, Kansas of heart disease. Accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Knight, the remains reached here Tuesday afternoon, and after a short service at the grave, were laid to rest beside his wife, whose death occurred the 25th of last January at their home south of this city.

Lysander P. Joslin was born near Columbus, Ohio May 1, 1825. The family moved to Whitley County, Indiana where he grew up, and in August 1843 was married to Lydia Robinson. From this union fifteen children were born, six of whom are now dead.

The family came to Kansas in 1877, and to this county eight years ago, buying the place since occupied as the Joslin home. After the death of Mrs. Joslin, he went to Butler county to make his home with his daughter.

Mr. Joslin was one of those good old fashioned, honest, industrious men whose purpose and aim in life was to do the best he could. But when his life companion, whose love, council and companionship he had enjoyed for over fifty-five years, passed on to that other home, he lost much of his interest in this life and was ready to go where she had gone. In this, his heart's desire is met, and who can say that it is not well? It is. And, while sad hearts mourn them here, there is greater joy on the other side, where two souls re-unite for the life which is all joy, and eternal.

The brothers and sisters of the Joslin family desire to extend their sincere thanks to all those who so kindly assisted them and gave them comfort and sympathy in the trial and bereavement at the death of both mother and father. - Lyndon, Kansas Current Remark May 18, 1899.

Mr. Joslin, the father of Mrs. William Brubaker, of Troy township, is well and favorably remembered by many of our older citizens."

It has taken considerable time and effort on the part of four family researchers, but we have located living descendants of most of the adult children of Lysander and Lydia and made contact with most of them. Some are not interested in the family history and won't be attending the reunion the Friday after Thanksgiving, but I'm sure that we'll have a good time and enjoy the companionship of extended family during the holiday. I'm looking forward to seeing those distant cousins again.

Weather permitting, I'm hoping to take a few days the following week and come home the "long way" through eastern Kansas and parts of Iowa to do research on siblings of some of my other ancestors. I'm in the process of trying to figure out which facilities to go to and determining what information I would like to find.

This is getting to be a rather long post, so see the post "Children of Lysander and Lydia Joslin" for information on their children.

The Quest for "Easy" Gunks 5.9s

I've returned to my mission of two years ago: breaking into 5.9.



I already did the obvious easy ones. Two years ago, when I first travelled in this direction, I led Ants' Line as my first 5.9. It is a great climb, with a short crux and solid pro throughout. It is pumpy, especially if you dilly-dally and don't get on with it. But the vertical crack with great protection seals the deal; it is the first 5.9 for many a climber, and a good choice.



Right next to Ants' Line is the other obvious choice: Bonnie's Roof. Lots of good climbing here, and the crux, while intimidating, has great pro and juggy holds. Many folks think it is easy for the grade, insisting it still deserves its former grade of 5.8.



Once you knock off those two climbs, other entry-level 5.9s aren't quite so easy to find. There are gimmicky ones I've never attempted, such as Arch Direct (aka Wick's Banana), in which a contrived roof problem is thrown in the middle of a 5.5 pitch. Or short ones, like the fifty-foot Red Cabbage, on the Gerdie Block. But I'm not too inspired at the thought of doing these climbs. I have such limited time for climbing. I don't want to do a climb if the only thing I can say in its favor is that it is easy for 5.9. I'd rather get on great classics when I get out.



This past Saturday, climbing with Vass, I looked for some high quality easy 5.9 pitches to try, aiming for climbs whose ratings have floated between 5.8+ and 5.9-. We ended up getting on four of these climbs in the Trapps, and since Vass has been too busy to get out climbing much lately, he was happy to let me lead all the harder stuff.





(Photo: Looking down at the juggy final bits of pitch one of Cold Turkeys)



First up was Cold Turkeys, an obscurity hiding in plain sight amidst some of the highest-quality rock in the Gunks.



The climb sits at the right end of the Arrow Wall, occupying the same corner system as the classic climb Easy V. While Easy V takes a 5.3 path up the inside corner, Cold Turkeys goes up the outside corner at either 5.8, if you follow Dick Williams, or 5.9- if you believe Todd Swain.



I've been curious about Cold Turkeys for a while, because while the Arrow Wall is filled with amazing climbs, they are known mostly for their second pitches. Arrow, Limelight, Annie Oh!, Three Doves (see below), and Red Pillar all feature great second pitches on beautiful, marble-like white rock. But with the exception of Three Doves (and arguably Limelight), none of these climbs has a first pitch that lives up to the second pitch. Last year I tried an alternative way to get to the GT Ledge on the Arrow Wall: pitch one of Snake, a 5.6 at the far left end of the wall. Dick gives this first pitch two stars in his guidebook. And although the early climbing on the pitch wanders, the crux bit up a headwall with a thin vertical crack is very nice indeed, making Snake in my opinion one of the better first pitches in the area. It is a great link-up with pitch two of Red Pillar; I'd much rather take Snake to the GT Ledge than Red Pillar's first pitch, which has maybe two good moves on it above the initial pillar.



I was hoping I might feel the same way about Cold Turkeys that I did about Snake; maybe I'd gain a new favorite pitch in the neighborhood. Dick gives it a star, and I never see anyone doing it. Swain's 5.9- rating further piqued my interest. Why not give it a try?



It turned out to be pretty decent, and a one-move wonder. 5.4-ish climbing up left-facing flakes takes you two-thirds of the way to the GT Ledge. The flakes are pleasant, and the position at the corner is airy. You arrive at a ledge, really the top of a pedestal, beneath an orange face capped by overhangs. There is a shallow left-facing corner directly in front of you. The crux is stepping up onto the orange face, where one thin move up will allow you to move left to the outside corner and a good stance. Then it's smooth sailing up steep 5.6-ish jugs to the GT Ledge.



I thought the one-move crux was nice, and that Dick probably has it right at 5.8. There is also good pro at the waist level for the crux move; I placed two pieces before stepping up. My only reservation about Cold Turkeys is that without overhead pro for the crux move, you're risking an ankle-tweaker fall on the pedestal if you blow it. This factor alone will probably keep me from returning to Cold Turkeys any time soon.



Having completed the pitch, we found ourselves with a great opportunity: Three Doves was open. This is another borderline 5.9 pitch. Dick calls it 5.8+, Swain says 5.9-. Neither Vass nor I had ever done it. I led the 5.8- pitch one last year, and thought it was really very good, featuring fun climbing past horizontals and small overhangs to the exciting crux slabby moves on a clean face to the GT Ledge. Pitch two was a different story. It had always scared me off. It was the same old fear: thin face climbing past a pin.



But on Saturday I decided I was really over this fear. I had become a face-climbing dynamo. So I racked up for Three Doves and attacked pitch two.



The beginning of the pitch is just okay. It heads up from the GT Ledge trending right, and then left, following the pro, to an optional belay tree. Then the blank white face looms above, the lone pin in the middle pointing the way. The pro is good until the crux move, which comes just before the pin. There's a good horizontal at your feet for this move, in which I placed two cams.



Once you make the oh-so-delicate step up to the pin, the blank face continues for a couple more moves to the roof. You can see as you stand at the pin that there is pro at the roof but not before. You need to find some other pro at the pin level or you'll be relying solely on the piton (which looked pretty good, actually). I did my best to back it up. There is a rather shallow little slot below the pin in which I placed a micronut. I carry a biner with three different brands of micronuts on it for just this sort of situation. I kept trying different nuts, finding them acceptable for a pull straight down. But if I pulled them to the left they'd pop right out. Finally I wedged a # 3 Black Diamond micronut in at an angle-- I couldn't make it fit totally sideways. It sat at a diagonal in the crack, and I couldn't pull it out either with a yank down or sideways. I was dubious of this nut, but when my partner Vass inspected it he thought it was good. I was happy not to test it or the pin. I made the next couple thin steps and arrived at the roof with relief.



The traverse moves under the roof are pleasant and well-protected, and a final layback up a cool diagonal crack leads to the bolts. Three Doves is a stellar climb and I think that it fully deserves to be called a 5.9. It definitely features harder moves than the 5.8+ face-climbing on Birdland that I did the week before, and I'd also rate it as harder than the other 5.9s I discuss below. So I'm not sure I'd call it an introductory 5.9. The crux is several moves long and the pro is not entirely ideal. But it is such a high quality climb. It felt great to get it onsight.



(An aside: after Three Doves we did the second pitch of Annie Oh! (5.8), which has somehow eluded me over the years. This ended up being my favorite pitch of the day, with great move after great move, on and on. It doesn't let up until the final step up to the anchor. I had such fun leading it that it felt like it was over too soon; I wished it were twice as long. More evidence that (1) the Arrow Wall is one of the best locations in the Gunks, (2) 5.8 is one of the best grades at the Gunks, and (3) working on 5.9s is a good way to make yourself feel amazing on the 5.8s.)



After we came down from the Arrow Wall we headed to the far-out Slime Wall to check out another 5.9 with a reputation for being soft: WASP. This one is considered a 5.9 by both Williams and Swain, but it used to be rated 5.8. The hard, steep section comes right off the deck, and is over within about 20 feet. After the crux the angle eases and it's 5.5 climbing all the way to the GT ledge.



Now that I've climbed it, I'd say WASP is exactly the beginner's 5.9 climb I was looking for. The first pitch is long, but the 5.9 section is short and on the soft side. There are three or four good moves, none extremely difficult. You follow a thin crack but you don't crack climb. The holds appear on either side. The moves are steep and they come at you in succession. But then before you know it you are at the easy little rooflet and the hard stuff is over.



I thought the pro was great. There are numerous placements. I remember a # 3 Camalot in the obvious pod a few moves off the deck. I also got a great purple C3 behind a constriction in a thin downward-facing crack a little higher. That little cam placement was awesome; it was never going to pop out in a fall. I placed lots of other gear besides this. On WASP, you don't have to rely on some funky old pin.



And then the 5.5 climbing that followed the crux was a mellow bonus. I enjoyed leading all the way up to the GT ledge. Vass then took a turn leading the 5.5 pitch two, which was also well worth doing, at least through the neat roof problem. The last bit to the top was a little dirty.



After WASP, I wasn't sure I needed any more 5.9 in my day. Things were going very well; why push? So we took a little break and climbed Moondance (5.6), a single-pitch climb that Dick gives a single star. Vass took the lead and while it wasn't bad, or a waste of time like Fancy Idiot (5.6), my verdict was "eh." Steep climbing with good holds. It was nice enough but I'd never go out of my way to climb it. The most appealing thing to me about it was the secluded ledge it starts on. You really feel alone there. We didn't bother to do the sister climb Sundance (5.6).



After Moondance I felt re-energized. I told Vass I wanted to hit one more 5.9: Casablanca.





(Photo: Approaching the big roof on Casablanca)



Casablanca is a roof problem climb, and from underneath the roof looks huge. It seems highly unlikely that this roof can go at 5.9 (or 5.8, as Swain says!). Dick says in his guide that there's a jug over the roof; I figured the trick would be getting my feet up and grabbing it.



I was a bundle of nervous energy as I got ready to lead the pitch. Mostly it was the thought of getting over that roof, but I was also worried about the easier climbing below. I'd read some reports of runouts and crappy rock.



But my experience did not bear out these complaints. I thought the climbing was good, fun, and well-protected. The line follows the flakes that provide pro. First you jog right to one flake, then a little left as you pass over a nice 5.7 bulge and head for another flake. More 5.6-5.7 climbing takes you up into orange rock and a notch with some more flakes that do sound a bit hollow when you tap them. But nothing felt loose to me and I thought I got solid pro in a horizontal off to the left. Then a good move over a small overhang takes you to the perch beneath the huge roof, at a big, flexing, left-facing flake.



There is a pin at the wall behind the big flake. I clipped this pin and put a double-length runner on it. But I would not want to fall on this pin. It is really really rusty. One of these days someone is going to rip it right off with his or her bare hands.



I also placed a cam in the horizontal formed by the flexy flake. I wasn't thrilled about this placement either, since the flex in the flake could cause a cam to pop right out. I tried to place a cam as far to the right as I reasonably could, to try to minimize the flex effect. This was easy for me to do with my double ropes; if you are using a single it should still work without too much drag so long as you put a long sling on the piton.



After doing a pull-up on the flake to check my overhead cam placement, I decided this was as good as it would get. I told myself that I had read reports by other climbers who have taken a fall at this roof and that their cams have held. So it was very likely mine would as well.



But I still wasn't about to take a fall here if I could avoid it.



I ventured out for the first time, putting my hands in the flake, getting my feet up. I pawed around, looking for the jug and not finding it. But then I thought I could see it. I stepped down to the better stance and shook out.



Time to go again.



I stepped up for the second time, and now I was pretty sure I knew where the jug was. I threw a heel hook right and tried to reach for it. No dice. I managed to step down again, still not weighting the rope.



I was getting a little pumped. Not too many more tries in the tank. "Stop scouting around," I told myself. "Just get your feet as high as you can and go for it."



I stepped up again, and just popped for the jug with my left hand-- and suddenly I was holding it! It felt really good. I threw a heel, pulled up and I was on top of the roof, letting out a yell and an "Oh yeah!!"



Casablanca is a one-move wonder but a really fun one. The crux is short, and the pro is good IF it holds in that flexy flake. I have my doubts about that, and I shudder to think of what would happen if that rusty pin beneath the roof were tested. Now that I've done Casablanca once I'm not sure I'll be hurrying back. It sure was exciting, though.



A last note about Casablanca: the rap tree just above and left of the crux is not very big to begin with, and it is just about dead. There is one live branch on the thing. I took one look at it and decided it was the single scariest rappel station I have ever seen in the Gunks. I wish I had thought to chop the slings off of it, but I did not. Please don't use this tree. It isn't safe.



I did about half of the 5.5 second pitch instead of stopping there. I continued up and to the right, where there is another tree with slings. This tree appears quite healthy, and it is bigger than the dying tree as well. But if you are climbing with a single rope I don't think you can use this second tree, since it is well more then 100 feet off the ground. We were using doubles so it was no problem for us to do one double-rope rap to the ground. If you have a single rope and you are climbing Casablanca, I would advise you to go all the way to the top, even though from what I did of it the second pitch is not terribly inspiring.

Snoqualmie Mountain ..

Sammy and I planned a day of climbing something for Sunday and we didn't want it to be too intense. After throwing around a few ideas we settled on Snoqualmie Mountain. I have never been up it, and Sammy had when there was no snow, so it would be a new experience for both of us.

We arrived in the Alpental parking lot a little after 7am and were discussing our route options. Sammy was originally thinking to come up the Commonwealth Basin and then access Snoqualmie from Cave Ridge. We had both done that approach for winter ascents of Guye Peak. The guidebooks tell a tale of going up the trail to Cave Ridge from the Alpental Parking lot. I suggested we try something new and if it went, the distance was a whole lot shorter than circumnavigating Guye Peak.

From the parking lot we picked a high spot below a tree band that we would go up and assess the conditions to see if we could continue upward. We figured on twenty minutes to that point and potentially leaving us with enough time to come down and try the other route if this one did not go.

We entered the snow at the "Transceiver Training Area" and started to head up. Within five minutes it seemed like we were half way to the trees. Then the slope got steeper. Sammy and I stayed in some tree where we were following steps and we felt the snow was a little better. It was still before 8am and the sun was not hitting the slopes and the snow was hard and icy. We wondered why we brought snow shoes and contemplated stashing them. I said it would be a guarantee that we would be in waist deep snow later if we cached them now, so we kept them on our packs. This was Sammy's first time on steep snow this season and he was not feeling great about the snow climbing and lagged behind me a bit. I broke out of our stretch of trees and waited for him at a final tree in a more level area before we were to make the push to the trees above to see if the route went.

At this point, Sammy was having reservations about climbing the steep snow. But we agreed to go to the trees to see if the climbing became less difficult. Since we were on more level terrain, we donned crampons at this time. That decision gave both of us a little confidence boost to make the trees.

Nearing the trees, I went ahead of Sammy to check out the situation. I had to cross a moat with a small ice bridge with the help of an alder grab and then front point up steep solid snow into the woods. I stopped below a fallen log. While I thought the terrain looked easier above the log, I did not see any easy ways around it that did not involve minimal snow on rock or other loose terrain. I relayed the information to Sammy who made the decision to descend.

Sammy downclimbed facing in while I attempted to get out of the trees without having to downclimb over the small moat I came up over. It took me a while to reach Sammy after he returned to the more level area where we had put crampons on. At this point we had probably burned too much time to attempt via the Commonwealth Basin.

Fortunately due to our time wasting, the temps were a little warmer even if the sun was now obscured by clouds. Sammy got a new dose of confidence and started to traverse the slope to our left. Before we knew it, we were following another boot path up into the trees and feeling like we might still have a chance at the summit. At a minimum we were hoping to gain Cave Ridge and get a view.

Then we followed the the boot path to ice. There was about an eight foot stretch of maybe 40° ice. I started to chop steps into it. I made some moves with my left foot on rock and my right on ice. I had to swing my ax just to get the pick in and inch. A few moves up I questioned what I was doing, and Sammy and I set about to find another option up. Sammy set out on a traverse left while I tried a section directly above us. Neither was going to go without spicy moves on thin snow over moats and wet rock with significant shrub pulling only to get onto a similar steep hard snow slope. All the while considering how we would get back down once we got around the obstacle. After checking four options around the ice patch we finally decided to head back to the car. We down climbed through the woods back out to the open slope where the sun was shining and the snow already quite soft. We removed our crampons and plunge stepped our way back to the car.

Sammy nearing our high point

Before the plunge step down, I told Sammy it was our hubris that caused our failure. While perhaps an exaggeration, we both had underestimated this climb and had full expectation of reaching the summit. This expectation of easy climbing affected me (at least) in regards to my head space when the going got difficult. Climbing when not in an ideal head space is taxing, and not why I go out.

The plunge step out

I usually say that you learn more from a no summit climb than from a climb where the summit is achieved. On the way down and in the car we discussed things we took away from this. One was that we waited too long to put crampons on. I guess we succumbed to the boiling frog issue on that one. Because we underestimated the climb and snow conditions, we did not bring second tools or steel crampons, not to mention helmets or any type of rope.

Overall we had a fun time and joked about the situation throughout. It was great attempting a climb with Sammy and now I'll have a better idea for the next time I give Snoqualmie Mountain a go.