Gunks Routes: Pink Laurel (5.9)

It had been a wonderful weekday in the Gunks. After we finished up with The Seasons, Maryana was looking for a 5.9 to lead. She suggested Pink Laurel, mostly because the first pitch has a G rating. I'd never done the first pitch, but had long been curious about it. I told her my understanding was that the first pitch crux is short but polished/greasy and that some people hate the route. But I also told her I've been wanting to do it and that I'd love to lead the 5.9 pitch two. So off we went.



Pink Laurel is a two-star classic you don't often see people doing. It looks intimidating. It sits just to the right of some very popular, easier climbs like Jackie (5.5) and Classic (5.7). The first pitch ascends a corner system, with the crux coming low at an escape from an awkward alcove. When we arrived at the base and looked upward, it seemed to me like the dark, awkward alcoves continued throughout the whole pitch.





(Photo: Maryana pondering the crux alcove on pitch one of Pink Laurel (5.9))



Maryana was more than up to the task of climbing the pitch. Although there were placement opportunities, she didn't put in any gear until she got herself through the easy starting territory and into the crux alcove. Once there she placed two solid cams. At the time I was ignorant of what was to come, so I didn't know to tell her what I'm going to tell you now: I'm not sure those two cams were placed optimally. If she'd blown the crux move they would have kept her from hitting the ground, but maybe not the rock at the base of the alcove. Maryana placed the cams in the ceiling of the alcove, one in the crack on the left and one in the crack on the right. Because the cams were set back a bit from the lip, she extended the draws on both of these pieces. Better, I think, would have been to place a cam right at the lip of the roof of the alcove, clipping it direct. No extension.



But she was totally solid on the moves, so there were no worries. As soon as she stepped up out of the alcove, I suggested she place a piece ASAP, which she did from a rather strenuous stance. Then it appeared the climbing eased for the rest of the pitch.





(Photo: Maryana almost through with pitch one of Pink Laurel (5.9))



When it was my turn to follow, I saw why people gripe about Pink Laurel. The polished part of the route is short, but it is the crux. Dick tells you to undercling left out of the alcove, but this advice only tells part of the story and doesn't begin to capture the weirdness of the move. It is a committing undercling up left with very slippery feet, then a step right, awkwardly straddling a corner. Another strenuous step up and you're out of the crux.



I didn't think the moves were hard, exactly, but they were strange and insecure. Very good protection is available but as I realized watching Maryana some care should be taken to protect the crux well.



I thought the climbing above the crux was interesting and unique. The remaining alcoves went at around 5.6, and there were some funky moves required to get out of them. Before I knew it I was at the ledge with Maryana.



Pitch one of Pink Laurel was very interesting, and a little different from your typical Gunks climb. I'd like to go back soon and lead it myself.



And I'd really like to go back and lead pitch two again because I totally botched it with Maryana.





(Photo: Vass leading pitch two of Pink Laurel (5.6 variation))



Last fall I did the 5.6 variation to pitch two of Pink Laurel with Vass, sending him up on lead after I led pitch one of Jackie. This easier variation of Pink Laurel is fun (I thought it seemed pretty soft for 5.6), and it led me to believe the 5.9 version of the pitch wouldn't be too difficult, because the crux would have to be short. Both versions of the pitch, easy and hard, start and end the same way. The only difference is that the 5.6 version cuts left around the roof while the 5.9 version cuts right.



Returning to the pitch with Maryana, I set off, getting to the stance atop the prominent pointed flake (just over Vass' head in the photo above) with ease. Then I headed right, towards what I thought was the 5.9 finish. An overhanging 5.7-ish traverse around a little nose led me a stance at a shallow left-facing corner. Here I looked up and could see a big angle piton in the roof above and to my left. I thought that this piton must be at the exit to Pink Laurel, but I wasn't sure I was supposed to go that far back left to exit the roof. It seemed especially contrived to go back and left when I was already standing at an easy-looking corner that seemed to go straight to the top.



So I went straight up the corner instead of heading back up and left, and since the climbing to the top couldn't have involved any moves harder than 5.5, I knew I'd messed up.



Later I looked at the photos in the guidebook and realized I'd traversed too far to the right, going all the way to the finish of A-Gape. This climb is a 5.11 down low but the part I did is easy and from all appearances seldom climbed. Judging from the line in the book I went straight right when I should have gone diagonally up and right from the stance at the flake. I don't know how I missed the line so completely.



Now that I've avoided Pink Laurel's second pitch from both sides, I have to go back and attack it directly!

Braking: Not Always Your Friend

The other day I was cycling on a busy road where the city has recently installed those raised-platform intersections to make the cars slow down before crosswalks. Ahead of me, I saw a cyclist brake just as she entered the intersection - probably hoping to reduce the impact of the bump. Watching her, I somehow knew what was going to happen next and winced. And then it happened: As her wheel hit the raised platform, her bicycle flipped over, and she with it. All this occurred at a slow enough speed, so that she wasn't hurt and was soon back on the bike. But I suspect that she has no idea why the fall happened, which means that it might happen to her again.

To me, it has always seemed self-evident that it is "bad" to brake while going over bumps, and watching the cyclist's fall confirmed that. But were there actually any facts behind this belief? I got home and looked it up, stumbling upon Sheldon Brown's explanation.

Bumpy surfaces. On rough surfaces, your wheels may actually bounce up into the air. If there is a chance of this, don't use the front brake. If you apply the front brake while the wheel is airborne, it will stop, and coming down on a stopped front wheel is a Very Bad Thing.

Okay, that makes sense. It has also since been pointed out to me that braking transfers the weight of the bicycle forward, so braking on the bump drives the front wheel right into it. Makes sense as well. So, we essentially have two forces working against us when braking over a bump.

When we find ourselves hurdling towards an obstacle n the road that we cannot avoid, naturally the reflex is to slow down. But this should be done before going over the said obstacle, not during. Braking is your friend, but only when done correctly (brake before the bump, then release before going over it). I would also venture to say that most casual cyclists who use handbrakes do not differentiate between front and rear.

Of course, this is just one more reason why I love coaster brakes for cycling in the city. If you're used to braking with a coaster brake in order to slow down, you do not rely on the front brake as much and are not likely to squeeze it while going over a bump. I know that some will not agree with me on that one, but that is how I see it, and the coaster brake has been a reliable ally for me in pothole-ridden Boston Metro.

Still a Lot of Lands to See...

I have been afraid to write about this, because then it would become real... But this morning I've been listening to Joni Mitchell for inspiration, determined to finally do it. So here it is: in the end of March I am going to Death Valley in California for a bit of bicycle riding. Chris Kostman of AdventureCORPS has invited me to a couple of events that he organises: a century ride called the Hell's Gate Hundred, preceded by 5 days of cycling, hiking and yoga that is known asCORPSCamp.




I have never been to Death Valley, or to California before. And these events will be like nothing I've ever done previously. I will probably fail at them terribly, but I want to try anyway. The reason goes back to my trip to Interbike in Las Vegas last September.






I met many interesting people at Interbike. Some were sponsors with whom I've hitherto only had email contact, and Chris Kostman was among them. Describing Chris is a challenge, because "on paper" I knew of him as an athlete (the youngest to complete the Race Across America at age 20, he finished 9th). But when we met in person it was so removed from that, that I had a difficult time even picturing him on a bike. In fact I'd wanted to photograph and write about him back in September, but all the pictures came out looking like a GAP commercial, it was no good! An endurance cyclist since his teenage years, for decades Chris has been racing and competing in endurance events, and was even part of Team Bridgestone in the early '90s. Somewhere down the line he founded AdventureCORPS and now organises well known "ultra-cycling" events such as theFurnace Creek 508, as well as various century and double-century rides and cycling camps.




Reading about these things, as well as Chris's many articles on training and nutrition, one gets the sense that this is a person who lives and breathes sport and spends most of his waking hours training. I was almost nervous to meet him. Would he make me do push-ups as we chatted? Turns out we had a lot to talk about. Chris is alarmingly intelligent, and one of those people who is interested in everything - soaking up knowledge like a sponge and sharing it freely with others. Since I started roadcycling, he has given me valuable advice and has opened up my mind about the place cycling can have in my life.He also sparked my interest in the desert landscape.





Interbike was overwhelmingly hectic, and after taking pictures of bicycles non-stop as I walked around the huge showrooms for hours,I was exhausted. Still, when Chris offered to show me Red Rock Canyon outside Las Vegas on my last day there, I dragged myself out of bed early and, with a migraine and eyes half closed, grabbed my camera bag and made it into his time-traveling car. The only desert I'd seen before had been in the Middle East, and my memories of it were not fond. I expected a version of the same here. As we drove to Red Rock I mostly wanted to get it over with just as a "there, I've seen it" sort of thing.





But my experience proved to be different. I am a very visual person, and normally it is the way a place looks that influences me the most. And Red Rock was certainly striking, with its striped mountains and fields of rocks, cacti and unusual grasses. But that is not what I remember the most, and it's not what got to me. My strongest memory of the place has to do with how the air felt and smelled. It was so weird, I am not sure how to describe it. We got out of the car and immediately I walked 5 steps into the desert and just stood there. It wasn't hot. Or maybe it was, but I didn't notice. The air had a dewy quality to it that was not only unexpected, but nothing like the dewy morning air I am used to in Northern climates. There was a scent to it, too. Very faint and I bet the people who live there no longer notice it, but for me it was new. I think the scent was coming from all the weird little plants, and the overall effect was kind of melony - lightly sweet and refreshing.






Within 5 minutes my headache went away and I no longer felt tired or sleepy. In fact I felt like going on a very long hike or bike ride. This change in energy levels and sense of well-being was so quick and dramatic that it was as if I'd gotten an injection. Crazy. There wasn't much time before I had to get back to Las Vegas, but I walked around taking pictures for as long as I could, for the first time regretting that I could not stay and explore the area longer.





We saw some cyclists in the desert, and I was envious. Riding in that fresh dewy air with the cactus scents and the stripey mountains looming in the distance must be nice. And that is when Chris remarked casually that I should take part in one of the rides he organises - in response to which I, of course, laughed, since it seemed wildly unrealistic. But by the time December rolled around, I'd been cycling like crazy and it changed to seeming only moderately unrealistic. When AdventureCORPS and the Furnace Creek Ranch officially invited me to the March events in Death Valley, I decided to go.





To save myself future embarrassment I've been trying to be non-comittal about classifying myself as a participant vs a photographer/support person. Chris assures me I'll be fine doing the rides, but he must think I am being modest in describing what a poor cyclist I am. Still, I've now registered on BikeReg and everything is settled, so it looks like it's happening.Soma Fabricationswill be loaning me a Smoothie roadbike to test ride while I am in California, which I am excited about as well.



Physically I'm not ready for the Hell's Gate Hundred and the 5 days of cycling that is CORPSCamp. But I keep from hyperventilating by telling myself there isn't really any pressure on me to finish all the rides, and that I can do as little or as much as I feel comfortable with. It will be both scary and interesting to find out how much that is. And of course, I will get to see California. I am nervous and looking forward to it all in equal measure.

No-Bike Town

Owing to a stroke of luck, we now have a new, wonderful photography studio. It belongs to an acquaintance whose partner has just retired - and so we took over the partner's share. The place is fully equipped with a darkroom and a portrait studio, and is located in a coastal town outside Boston - convenient as we often do photoshoots in that area.



The only problem? Well, something about this town just seemed off as soon as we got there.

It was as if the shadows in the town center were extra shadowy.



And the sun-lit rooftops exuded a sinister gleam.

Even the quiet side streets were eerie. What could it be?... Oh yes. There was hardly a bicycle to be seen! Honestly, I cannot remember the last time I saw a town with so few bicycles. Over the past weeks we have been moving our things into the studio and renovating the darkroom, and I've spotted a total of maybe half a dozen bikes in the streets during that entire time period -mostly being ridden on the sidewalks.

The studio is 14 miles from our house, but around the corner from a T-station - so the idea is to commute there by T and keep a bicycle on site as a Studio Bike. Initially I was hoping that I could perhaps cycle to the studio, and distance-wise I could do it. But the route seems to be beyond my current level of skill and bravery, involving busy roads with high speed limits and no shoulders. And given the No-Bike Town situation, I am beginning to question whether I will even be able to cycle near the studio itself, if only just for a coffee.



This singular bicycle stood out in No-Bike Town like a lone cowboy. It is an interesting Burley tandem, and I wonder how its owners feel about cycling in this area. More importantly, I wonder how the drivers in this area feel about cyclists - would they even know what to do if they saw me riding down the street? I guess I will soon find out...

Lyveden circular

Led by Barry. With Norma, Maureen, Gordon, Chris and Marion, Chris and me. A few gentle slopes, good underfoot apart from some mud in the woods. Sunny warm, with a cool wind. 8. 5 miles. (or 6 for shorter route).





We set off from the layby near Lyveden New Build on the road between the A6116 and the A427. The path goes across the fields on the north side of the road. The oilseed rape is in full flower, but nothing like as high as usual.



We go through Banshaw Wood and arrive at the minor road in Lower Benefield. For the next three quarters of a mile the path is a tarmac strip leading all the way to Upper Benefield. A herd of young dark-coloured cows - they looked lively but took no interest in us. In the churchyard is the only example I have seen of a priest's gravestone facing those of his congregation. Norma pointed this out, or I wouldn't have spotted it.

Church of St Mary, Lr Benefield

We turn left along the road for a short distance, passing a footpath which goes off to the right. Our route lies to the left, and we're walking southwest.















A footbridge leads us over a stream and we break for a snack in warm sunshine. To be sociable we sit with our legs uphill, next time I'll turn round! We cross the stream again - a short leap over the mud this time. The route southwest hugs the edge of Spring Wood and Cockendale Wood. At the end we turn to go south east towards a minor road. Right then left takes us to the next section of path and we walk up past Lyveden Airfield, now Welland Gliding Club.



There's a memorial for a Lancaster bomber crew as we reach the next road. Here, we have a choice. Some people decide that six miles is enough, and they turn left and walk back to the cars. Five of choose to extend the walk through Fermyn Woods.













The path is a little soggy, but we follow it and emerge on the track leading to Assarts Coppice. There's a left turn where Lyveden New Bield is clearly visible. The path leads east, with Lady Wood on our right hand side. There's a convenient set of picnic tables just inside the wood. Someone has left dry bread on one of the tables - it looks unappetising to us, and the birds don't seem interested either.






From here the path follows field edges to Lyveden New Bield car park. We walk down the long driveway back to the cars. Four of us go back and visit the building and its Elizabethan Gardens. Audio Tour recommended. I'll post up a few details about this later.

Looking back to the beginning of the walk.

Wildlife - No deer, though there often are in Banhams wood - kites, martins, a chaffinch or possibly bullfinch (on a phone wire, below, not very good pic), crows.

A Day in the Life of Jacqueline

When I initially borrowed Jacqueline, I was not sure whether I would actually use the bicycle for transportation, or just ride a bit in my spare time. But after half a day, I decided not to renew my weekly public transport card for the duration of my stay in Vienna. It is very easy to get around the city by bicycle - not just through the central touristy parts, but through Vienna proper. To demonstrate, Jacqueline will show you one of her daily routines.



At 7:00 am, we are off to the office via the Danube Canal Path - which functions like a cross-town bicycle highway through Vienna. It just so happens that both my flat and my office are close to the canal, so our route to work is pretty straightforward. Pictured above is the nearest entrance onto the path.



The Danube Canal is an offshoot of the Danube River. Both the canal and the river proper have bicycle paths running alongside, but the advantage of he canal path is that it cuts through the center.



One thing I like about it, is how green the water looks - especially in the morning. No idea whether this is due to reflection from trees or chemical pollution, but it looks nice and so I choose to believe the former.



There are some cobblestone stretches along the path, and the 28" Schwalbe Delta Cruisers on Jacqueline are just fine with them. But I have seen other cyclists get off their bikes and walk here.



Some parts of the canal path are woodsy and surreal-looking.



Jacqueline enjoys this sort of scenery the most.



Other stretches are more urban and take you closer to the main road.



That's okay too, but cycling here during rush hour will give you a nice helping of auto exhaust fumes. Have others noticed this problem in large cities? I have been told that automobile emissions in Europe (not counting former Eastern-bloc countries) are supposed to be less toxic than in the US, but my lungs seem to disagree. If anybody has more info about this, please share.



Heading toward the Southern edge of town, the scenery on the Danube Canal Path grows distinctly less picturesque. We are now cycling alongside the highway. And yes, that is a highway sign for Budapest and Bratislava. Bratislava (capital of Slovakia) is only a 45 minute drive away from this point. But instead of going there, Jacqueline heads to the office.



The landscape around my place of work is somewhat post-apocalyptic, but over time I have grown fond of it. Lots of interesting research facilities there, and I work with nice people. The total time it takes Jacqueline to cycle to the office from our flat is 20 minutes - the exact time it takes to commute using public transport.



I rarely stay at the office all day, but typically have meetings all over the city. On this day I had an afternoon meeting in a Cafe at the end of the Prater - the largest park in Vienna.



Lusthaus Cafe. Before you misunderstand what I do for a living - it's not what is sounds like in English. The name means "funhouse". This was about a 10 minute ride from the office for Jacqueline. After the meeting, we briefly returned to work, leaving in the late afternoon to run some errands.



First stop: the bank, in the city center, a 25 minute ride away. To get here, Jacqueline rode back via the Danube Canal path, and then along the Ring Road - which is another "bicycle highway" that loops around the city center.



Jacqueline then proceeded to the photo store in an adjacent district - a 15 minute ride away - to buy some film. She rode there mostly on the road, via a combination of bicycle lanes, "sharrow"-marked side streets, and unmarked side streets. The thing about "sharrows" in Vienna, is that they are mostly painted on 1-way streets against the flow of traffic. Yes, against. The speed limit on these streets is usually 30 km/h. This design goes against everything I have come to believe over the past year as a cyclist in Boston. What do you think of it? And could anybody comment whether Copenhagen and Amsterdam are the same in this respect?



After the photo store, Jacqueline was locked up on a main shopping street and waited a bit while I met a friend for coffee. Then we went to the grocery store Billa.



Jacqueline was proud that she could fit 1/2 week's worth of groceries and my laptop bag into a single pannier. (She is lazy and did not want to open the second one.)



As dusk approached, we cycled home - once again via a combination of roads, then the Ring Path via the route described here. All in all, I would estimate that Jacqueline did a couple of hours of back and forth cycling, and this was typical of how much I travel through the city on an average day in Vienna. Normally all of these trips would have been done using public transport. The travel time by bike is about the same.



I rode Jacqueline for transportation for the last week of my stay in Vienna. It was wonderful and made up for my bad luck earlier this month. I now feel like an idiot that I didn't just buy a bicycle when I lived here for longer stretches in previous years. Cycling in the countryside on my days off was nice, but I have to say that commuting by bike in Vienna is even nicer. And regardless of what the local shops might tell you, a 3-speed is sufficient to tackle "hilly Vienna". I am by no means in the best shape and had no trouble. Of course, the vintage magic of Jacqueline might play a role in that as well. But in any case - if you are in Vienna, get a bicycle and enjoy the city, whether you are a leisurely visitor or work at a fast-paced job!

Foggy Maples

A foggy afternoon in the forest on the last day of August . This was taken with my 'point-and-shoot' camera, a Canon G11.

Baby Elephant

Rozie the elephant that I saw as a baby 16 years ago now has had a baby on last Wed. 09-02-09. I hope to be able to go see this baby girl when she can be seen by the public. This photo came out really small when I posted it. It is someone elses photo and can be seen at this sitehttp://www.cabq.gov/biopark/elephantcalf.htmlt It is always wonderful to hear about the birth of animals and especially those near extention. The Rio Grande Zoo in Albuquerque is known for the gariffe births that occur frequently. I think there may have been a baby gariffe born earlier this spring and there were snow leopard cubs born in May this spring. Snow leopards are extreamly endangered. The Rio Grande zoo is doing really well at raising endangered animals.