Satay Ayam Kuning - Yellow Chicken Satay

Satay Ayam Kuning - Yellow Chicken Satay, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

In the past few weeks I've been experimenting with cooking Indonesian food. Not well known in the United States, the cuisine is flavorful and exotic, with easy-to-make dishes.

These succulent chicken satay skewers, marinated in turmeric, cumin, coriander, tamarind juice, and a pinch of chili, are tasty and fun to make. Serve them with peanut sauce.

Satay Ayam Kuning (Yellow Chicken Satay)

Taken from Agnes de Keijzer Brackman's Cook Indonesian.

- 2 chicken breasts
- 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
- ½ teaspoon coriander
- pinch of cumin
- 1 teaspoon turmeric
- ½ teaspoon salt
- 1 tablespoon tamarind juice

Cut chicken into bite-size portions. Thread on bamboo sticks or meat skewers. Set aside.
Heat oil in saucepan and add coriander, cumin, turmeric, salt and tamarind juice.
Using a soft-tufted cake brush, paint chicken thoroughly with the mixture.
Cook meat over charcoal until well done.


Saus Kacang Pedes (Hot Peanut Sauce)

Taken from Agnes de Keijzer Brackman's Cook Indonesian.

- 1 medium onion, sliced finely
- 1 clove garlic, sliced finely
- 1 tablespoon margarine
- 3 tablespoons smooth peanut butter
- 2 teaspoons sambal ulek
- 1 teaspoon brown sugar
- 1 tablespoon sweet soy sauce
- 1 tablespoon tamarind juice
- sliver of shrimp paste
- ½ teaspoon salt

Sauté onion and garlic in margarine until deep brown. Remove from pan and drain on paper towel.
Add peanut butter and ½ cup water to saucepan and bring to a boil. Turn off heat and stir to a paste consistency.
Add sambal ulek, brown sugar, soy sauce, tamarind juice, shrimp paste and salt, and mix well.
Now add onion and garlic and stir gently. Serve lukewarm or cool.
Note: For a different variation, leave out onion.

Thinking About Cities

Though I've lived in many different places over the course of my life, they have been mostly in Europe. Within the US my travels have been limited to the East Coast, and my trip to Las Vegas for Interbike was the first time I'd ventured west of Pennsylvania. Popular culture is saturated with images of Vegas, and I thought I knew pretty well what to expect: casinos, bright lights, neon signs, drunken merrymaking... If in the right kind of mood, I could see the kitsch appeal. But what I did not expect were unfinished construction projects, miles of empty parking lots, and a funny sense of being in the middle of a Broadway production that had its funding cancelled before the set could be completed. Maybe I wasn't supposed to arrive during the daytime (or be awake during daylight at all while there?), but the Vegas I saw looked not unlike the outer boroughs of former Soviet bloc cities, with their faded concrete high-rises and muddy vacant lots.

Equally fascinating was that Las Vegas seemed to be intentionally "anti-pedestrian" in design. I have no background in city planning, so it's hard to explain exactly what I mean. But with the exception of the smallish main strip - which is indeed walkable and feels like Disneyworld on crack - the city is made of these self-contained complexes accessible either by car or Monorail (they really try to push the Monorail, but it was mostly empty every time I used it).

Even in the city center, the roads are multi-lane and highway-like. Sometimes there are sidewalks, but they are lined with tall guard rails and there are no provisions for crossing the street except maybe every mile or so.The hotel I stayed at was technically around the corner from the convention center where Interbike was held, yet it was recommended I take the Monorail to it. Well, one night I had this crazy idea to walk. I could clearly see the hotel right in front of me - how bad could it be? It took about an hour and a half, because there was no way to walk to it in anything resembling a straight line. I had to walk around stadium-sized empty lots surrounded with chainlink fences, and when I tried to take shortcuts through hotels, I was forced to navigate along winding paths designed to maximise my exposure to slot machines. It was surreal. As for riding a bike, I remember someone posting a ridiculous statistic on twitter, claiming that 100% of Las Vegas residents who cycle report being hit by a car at least once. Having now been there, I no longer find it implausible.

While of course I've known that places like Las Vegas exist, I guess I've done my best to avoid them - choosing to live in areas that are walkable, which for me equates with livable. Being faced with the reality of what a city like this is actually like was jarring. I know that places like Boston comprise only a small fraction of the American urban landscape, while a model similar to Las Vegas is more common. I know it, but I try not to think about it, because the realisation fills me with a dread that I don't know how to overcome.

As I write this, I am waiting to board a plane to yet another city: Vienna. Design-wise, it is pretty much the polar opposite of the Las Vegas. And the public transportation and cycling infrastructure putevenBoston to shame. It is fascinating that such contrasts are possible in the way human beings create living spaces. What motivates the various designs? And what to do when the original motive is no longer relevant, or was a mistake, or turns out to be harmful to the population? Huge questions, I know. But sometimes you have to ask.

Tombstone Tuesday :: JD and Della Quillen

Mandella Joslin, more commonly known as Della, was the 13th child of 15 born to Lydia Robison and Lysander Price Joslin in Whitley County, Indiana. Della was married to James Downey Quillen on July 30, 1884 in Barton County, Kansas. He went by James but more commonly was known as JD. Della and JD moved around quite frequently, residing, among other places, in Osage County, Kansas as well as Port Orchard, Kitsap County, Washington and Fountain Inn, Greeneville County, South Carolina.

Della and JD were the parents of five children:

1. Leroy "Roy" Quillen (1885-1917) and his wife Anna had a daughter, Pauline, who was born about 1911. He died in Winlock, Lewis County, Washington less than a month before his 32nd birthday.
2. Verni Robert Quillen (1887-1948), known as Robert, was a popular newspaper columnist in the 1930s and 40s when he resided in Greenville, SC. He was married twice and adopted a daughter.
3. Lydia Elizabeth Quillen (1893-1983) married Berthier Henry "Bert" Deason. They resided in Greenville, SC. No children were born to them.
4. Marjorie Quillen (1903-1903) was born on January 6th and passed away two weeks later on January 20th. She is buried in the Overbrook Cemetery, Osage County, Kansas.
5. Della Lucille Quillen (1909-..) was married to Donald Charles Agnew. He taught psychology and philosophy at several Universities and was president of Oglethorpe University in Atlanta, Georgia. They had two daughters, one of whom I have corresponded with.

JD and Della (Joslin) Quillen are buried in the Fountain Inn Municipal Cemetery, Greeneville County, South Carolina. In the photo above their graves are the last two flat markers on the far left.

DELLA JOSLIN / WIFE OF / J. D. QUILLEN / December 9, 1866 / February 7, 1943

J. D. QUILLEN / 1860-1919

Primaloft?

If you have read any of my insulated garment reviews and wondered why I bitch so much about what is used by the garment's designers this may help. Know what you are buying! There is a distinct difference in the field and it is EASILY noticeable between the Primaloft insulations. NO one that is using Primaloft for climbing should accept anything but Primaloft 1. If you do you are simply getting RIPPED off by cost cutting. If it isn't Primaloft 1 it isless efficient and most importantly in this case less EXPENSIVE insulation for the garment's manufacture.



It would be nice to see independenttests of the insulation other's use as well. Arcteryx Coreloft (which I think are very good btw) comes to mind. Hard data would be better than what I *think* how ever.



"Clo is used by insulation companies as a standard measurement of warmth. Like most imperial measurements such as the yard, foot, or inch, the origins of a clo value are quite curious. At its origins, one "clo" represent the amount of insulation required to keep a man in a business suit comfortable in an indoor room at 70 degrees F. Not very specific, right?

In the modern world, one “clo” is the comfortable temperature of a clothed resting person in a room at 70 degrees F. The clo value is mathematically related to the R-value, so there is no longer an overarching generality for the measurement. "



Primaloft One0.92 dry / .90 wet,clo/oz



Primaloft Sport
0.79 dry /.72 wet, clo/oz



Synergy .73 dry / .61 wet,clo/oz



ECO .68 dry/ .60 wet, clo/oz



800 fill down having a clo/oz of about 1.1.



-800+ fill power down is 1.68 clo/oz at the density used in most UL manufactures products



PrimaLoft ONE®

.92 clo/oz./yd2 (test data by
Hoehnstein Testing Labs in Germany)

· Available weights: 40g, 60g, 100g, 133g, 170g,200g
(grams per square meter)



Q: Is PrimaLoft close to being the equivalent of down?



A: You can get anywhere from 450-fill-power down to 900-fill-power down. Look at pinnacle (superior) down products—900 at the top of the pyramid, 450 and 500 along the bottom. Then look at the pinnacle synthetics, and PrimaLoft One is the best synthetic insulation you can buy. The pinnacle synthetic only crosses over to the down chart near the bottom end of the down pyramid. We usually equate PrimaLoft One as the equivalent of down in the 500 to 550 range. (others say more like 450) You could not replace a 900-filll-power down garment with PrimaLoft One and expect to get the same performance in dry conditions. However, wet down doesn't even come close to the bottom end of the synthetic pyramid in regard to thermal performance. As soon as you get down wet, you lose a lot of its thermal properties.



More here:



http://www.primaloft.com/en/performance/products/primaloft-one.html



http://www.primaloft.com/en/performance/community/blog/primaloft-down-comparison.html

Fluttering About: the Papillionaire Sommer

One of the newer members of the upright city bike club, the AustralianPapillionaire (a sponsor of this blog) has recently opened its doors in the USA and sent me a bicycle to try - their step-through Sommer model in the aptly named "Boston" colour scheme. Based on a traditional European loop-frame design and available in a range of candy colours, the lugged steel Sommer also comes with an attractive price tag - starting at $429 for a basic single speed bicycle, including fenders, chainguard and rear rack.






Founded in by a brother and sister team in Melbourne,the Papillionaire name is based on the Latin word for butterfly (papillio)- reflecting their philosophy that "riding should be easy and fun and of course look good at the same time."






The bicycle frames are designed at Papillionaire's Australian office and manufactured in Taiwan to their specs, along with the rear racks, and custom leather grips and saddles. The finish is powdercoat.The stated weight of the complete bike is 29lb.






The cro-moly frames are lugged and the fork features an attractive crown with cutout detail.





Here is a look at the seat cluster.







And the junction of the curved top tube with the seat tube.





The bottom bracket is the only lugless joint on the frame, and it is done smoothly.







The horizontal dropouts in the rear accommodate hub gearing and incorporate braze-ons for rack mounts, fender mounts and chainguard bracket.






Braze-ons for both fenders and front rack on the fork dropouts as well.






The Sommer comes in two sizes: standard and small.Aside from the curved top tube, a main distinguishing feature of this model is its handlebars: Somewhere between North Roads and Apehanger on the upright spectrum, the bars have quite a rise to them. This has the interesting visual effect of making the rest of the bike appear miniature, almost toy-like in comparison. In fact the bike is normal sized, with 700C wheels to boot - it's just that the handlebars are quite massive - intended, in combination with a short top tube, to achieve a super-upright riding position.






View of the bars from the rider's perspective.





And a side view of the rise. Note that the stem here is shown lowered to maximum capacity.







The test bike I received was set up as a 3-speed, with a Shimano Nexus hub and twist shifter, front and rear caliper brakes,






Papillionaire's leather grips (a copy of the Brooks version, it seems), a silver bell,






a Peterboro front basket (big enough to fit a handbag or similar),






and a sprung leather saddle (looks to be Gyes-made), embossed with Papillionaire's logo. Note that the saddle here is shown sitting pretty far forward, with the clamp not allowing further backward movement. A setback seatpost is now available to get the saddle a bit further back.






The Sommer's rear rack is rated for 18kg (40lb) of weight. No lighting is included with the bike, but the rear fender is drilled for a tail light, and a rear reflector is included. The fenders, rack and chainguard are all powder-coated to match the bicycle's frame.





The alloy touring-stlye pedals come with reflectors.









The 700Cx35mm Kenda West city tires are available in gumwall or cream.






The Papillionaire was delivered to a nearby shop, the Bicycle Belle (read about it here), where I test rode it on a 4 mile urban loop simulating some of my usual local commutes.


Nothing about Papillionaire's branding suggests a focus on performance and speed, and so the bicycle's tame handling was consistent with my expectations. The Sommer is a bike for fluttering about town, not for "super commuting" 10 miles up hilly country roads. At the same time, the gearing is set quite low - so reasonable urban inclines are not difficult to tackle. And the roomy, integrated rear rack is a convenient standard feature, making it immediately possible to attach panniers, as well as rack-top bags and baskets to the bike.





On the whole, my impression of the Sommer was dominated by its bolt-upright positioning and tight "cockpit." Seated upon the saddle, my back was as straight as if I'd been sitting in a chair, and my hands gripped the handlebars just forward of my ribcage. The new setback seatpost alters these proportions, but only slightly: The Sommer was deliberately designed to be extremely upright. Those looking for that sort of fit will appreciate that, while those seeking a more leaned-forward, active position, may find the proportions limiting.








Another notable feature of the Sommer is its very high bottom bracket. Those who enjoy being perched as high as possible on a city bike so as to "see above traffic" will appreciate this. Those who like to stop with a toe on the ground without getting off the saddle, may not: The high bottom bracket will make it difficult to set the saddle height to make this possible whilst achieving full leg extension on the downstroke when pedaling.




While Papillionaire refers to their bicycles as "Dutch-style," theSommer is not a typical Dutch Omafiets. They do have the upright positioning in common. But the Sommer's frame angles are not as relaxed and the fork is not as raked-out - giving it a more compact, less boat-like - and also less cushy - feel than that of a traditional Dutch bike. The Sommer's combination of tight frame, 700C wheels and wide tires also leaves very little toe clearance with the front wheel; some riders may experience toe overlap.




The 29lb stated weight figure feels pretty accurate; for a bike of its kind the Sommer is on the lightweight side. But note, that (to be fair, like most bikes in its price category) the Sommer does not come with lighting options - something I hope Papillionaire (and other manufacturers) will consider remedying, since the bike is intended for regular commuting.





Since Papillionaire expanded its market to the US, I'vereceived regular emails from readers asking how it compares to the popular Bobbin Birdie(see reviewhere).As far as apples-to-apples comparisons with other city bikes, I think this is a fair one: Like the Sommer, the Birdie isa Taiwan-made lugged cro-moly loop frame with hub gears, fenders, chainguard and rear rack, at a similar price point. As far as quality, I find the bikes equivalent - from the finish, to the components, to bike shop mechanics' feedback on the quality of the from-the-factory assembly. As far as frame design and ride feel, there are notable differences: The Sommer is a considerably more upright bike, and it is fitted with 700C wheels, whereas the Birdie is a 26" wheel bike with a position that (while still firmly in the upright category) is more aggressive, and to me feels more responsive. So the choice between the two will likely rest on the type of fit and ride quality a cyclist prefers. Go with Papillionaire if you want to be more upright and higher off the ground; with Bobbin if the reverse. Price-wise both are pretty good deals. I get so many inquiries from readers looking for new, but "vintage-style" upright bicycles at reasonable prices. It's great to have multiple options in the sub-$700 price range.





The Papillionaire Sommer as shown here (the 3-speed version, with leather accessories and basket) is priced at $629, and is available to test ride at the Bicycle Belle in Somerville, MA. Aside from the Sommer model, Papillionaire also offers a diamond frame and, most recently, a mixte. You can check out the specs and colours of all their modelshereand see the complete Sommer picture set here. Many thanks to Papilllionaire and Bicycle Belle for the opportunity to try this bike!

Off the Beaten Path in Vienna

When people learn of my travels to Vienna, they typically want to hear about all the things they associate it with: the gilded neoclassical buildings, the opera, the horsedrawn carriages, Wienershnitzel, Sachertorte, and Mozart. But while all of that is indeed here, it is very marginal to my experience of the place. The centralmost 1st district - with its maze of white stone, processions of tourists, ticket peddlers dressed as historical figures, and endless shops selling fur coats and stockings to overcoiffed ladies - is a place I keep away from inasmuch as possible. The absurdly grandiose architecture of the famous Ringstrasse is something I look upon with fond irony, but it does not define the city for me. My experience here has always been that of an on-and-off resident, rather than that of a tourist, and "my" Vienna consists of real neighbourhoods, out of the way cafes, small parks frequented by locals, and other places you are unlikely to find in tourist guides. For me, these places are what makes Vienna special, what creates the captivating atmosphere that so draws me here. And yesterday I spent the day wandering through one of them, on my bike.



While many are no doubt familiar with the Prater - a large park that runs through the Southern part of Vienna and includes an amusement park, a stadium, various athletic facilities and horse trails running through wooded alleys - few venture beyond it into the tiny neighbourhood of Freudenau on the outskirts of town. On the map it does not look like much, and descriptions of it are not particularly inspiring: there is a golf course and a horseracing track, but otherwise it seems unremarkable. But the maps and guidebooks say nothing of the gravel trail that will take you through what can only be described as an enchanted forest, past a cluster of mysteriously abandoned mansions, ancient stables and ethereal-looking horses.



The horses are unexpected, because they really are in the middle of the woods, and not always contained within enclosures. They can be found wandering around untethered between the moss and ivy-covered tress, grazing serenely. I suppose so few people happen through this area, that no one bothers them.



The horses are not only beautiful, but tame and very sociable. You can pet them and feed carrots to them, which I sometimes find lying around.



I've been trying to understand what the horses are doing there and who they belong to, but there is never any human around to ask. I could be wrong, but I do not think that these particular animals are racehorses; the racehorses I've seen are not kept like this and don't behave like this either. A friend suggested that these are therapy horses for handicapped and emotionally disturbed children. Apparently Vienna has an equestrian therapy program, and this could be where the service animals are kept.



Riding on the gravel trail through Freudenau is a soothingly surreal experience. There is such a haunting sense of history, and I am nearly always the only person there. I can hear nothing but the sounds of overhanging tree branches creaking, ravens' wings flapping, horses hooves clip-clopping over dried leaves, and my own bicycle tires rolling over gravel.



Perhaps the uneven gravel, with its occasional ditches and root protrusions, explains why not many feel compelled to venture here. But Jacqueline handles it without a problem.



On the way back to civilisation, I am delighted to pass one of my favourite signs in Vienna. It's charming, because it suggests that the sign is for the cats themselves, rather than humans. "This way if you're a cat."



Of course it's only a sign for a cat shelter.But Katzenheimhas a more romantic ring to it, and I choose to imagine it as a genteel home for wayward felines - no doubt with miniature Jugendstil furniture and catfood served in little crystal dishes.



Right before Freudenau connects back to the Prater, there is a small cafe where I like to go. With traditional outdoor cafes like these in Vienna you never know what to expect. Some will serve awful microwaved food and packaged supermarket sweets that they simply open and dump onto a plate. Others will serve homemade dishes prepared with local ingredients that are as delicious as anything you could order in the best Viennese restaurants. This one leans toward the latter and I am never disappointed with even the simplest food I order there.

I don't usually feel compelled to photograph food, but readers have been asking about this more than anything else! So here is a ridiculously stereotypical meal, photographed just for you: frankfurters and sturm.

Sturm is a sort of fermented young wine, made from the first grape harvest of the season.It is naturally fizzy and low in alcohol, and tastes somewhat like a grapey version of hard cider. There are loads of vinyards outside of Vienna that compete to make the best Sturm in celebration of Autumn, and it's typical to sample them from as many places as possible this time of the year.

And a Viennese Apfelstrudel: heavy on the apples (local and fresh, not canned or jellied!), tart and not sweet, and very light on the crust - which is thin like filo dough, only soft instead of crunchy. There are also raisins mixed in there with the apples, which I could personally do without - but the rest I love. It's hard to eat Apfelstrudel elsewhere after getting used to the version they make here.

It's difficult to explain my attachment to Vienna without discussing my personal background at length. But I hope these pictures help express what words fail to.



Vienna is a large, sprawling city and some of my favourite places are difficult to access without a bicycle. Cycling is truly the best way to travel off the beaten path and to visit all the places I love - on the road and off.

Gunks Routes: Te Dum (5.7)

(Photo: the opening moves on Te Dum)



It was still winter, technically, when I got my first Gunks opportunity of . But spring seemed to be in the air.The temperature had suddenly spiked up into the sixties. The internet hummed with reports of great early-season climbing.



I couldn't wait to get out there.



I was feeling pretty good. I was perhaps in better physical shape than ever before, and I'd been climbing well in the gym.



But it got colder as the the weekend began, and by the time my climbing day, Sunday,dawned, it felt like winter all over again. As I drove up to New Paltz with A and M, I watched as thethermometer on my dashboardreported the dropping temperature outside: 32, 31, 30...



It bottomed out at 28 degrees just before we hit Exit 18.



Whatever, I wasn't worried. The high was projected to be around 48 and I figured with the sun shining on the cliffs it would feel warm enough once we got into it. I suggested to my friends that we head to the Nears, where the classics are piled deep, one after another, at the northern end of the cliff, closest to the road. I was thinking of a couple good warm-ups for us. One was Alphonse, a 5.8 climb that'sreally a 5.6 for all but one move. Another was Te Dum, a 5.7 that I remembered as having only one 5.7 move on it:an exposed but easycrux step around a corner about two-thirds of the way to the top. I was eager to get started and I volunteered for the lead.



As we walked to the start of Te Dum we passed Broken Sling, a notorious 5.8 with a bouldery start and a poorly-protected thin traverse above. Like Pavlov's dog I started salivating at the thought of getting on that one. Then beneath our chosen climb I stared straight up at the crux downward-facing off-width that finishes the first pitch of Inverted Layback (5.9). Boy, I'd like to do that one soon, I thought. But first I have to knock off this easy 5.7.



We racked up and I headed skyward.



The climb starts just left of the back of an open book, at a wide vertical crack system that passes two ledges on the way to a third. At the third ledge, where the vertical crack system widens,you traverse to the right wall of the open book and head up past a few flakes to the crux move around a second corner. Once you make the thin move around the crux corner a few jugs usher you up to a small ledge where a tree used to have slings around it, forming an optional belay station. This tree has lost its largest branch and these days hardly seems suitable for belay duties; in any event the rest of the climb is 5.4 and short. A rising traverse takes you out from under the roof over your head and then it's a couple moves to the top. Best to do the whole thing in one pitch.



As I started the climb, worming up to the first little ledge, I realized Iwas actually feeling very rusty after our long, snowy winter. I wasn't used to real rock anymore, and neither my fingers nor my toes felt secure on the stone. Even though the sun was shining directly on the rock, it still felt cold to the touch, and it may have been irrational but I didn't feel confident that my grip on the holds was solid.



At the second little ledge, I found myself standing to the left of the vertical crack and couldn't figure out how tostep up. I had two pieces right there-- in fact, I'd placed four pieces of pro in about 10 feet-- but I confess I was starting to panic. I couldn't commit to the move. My fingers were feeling numb. I told myself this was just season-opening jitters and to go ahead and step up, but when (after what seemed an eternity)I finally did so I immediately slipped off the foothold and down to the ledge on the right side of the vertical crack, where I should have been standing in the first place. Now that I was standing two feet to the right of where I'd been standing amoment before, the move was obvious-- I'd fallen into the proper position. The rest of the climb went smoothly. The rock even started to warm up and by the time I got to the cruxI cruised through it, as I'd expected I would.



My verdict on Te Dum two years later: despite my jittery beginning, it's still, to my mind, an easy 5.7. The opening bit, up to where you move right, is a simple matter for anyone who isn't climbing (like me) with blinders on. Then a very easy and well-protected traverse (use the crack at the back of the open book for pro) leads to a couple nice moves up to the crux. One deep breath and a committing step will take you around the second corner to jugs and the optional belay. Then it's an exposed, 5.4 romp to the trees. A nice pitch, with more climbing on it than I remembered.



So much for starting the year feeling strong. I'd secretly hoped the Gunks 5.8s would feel ridiculously easy as the year began, but that's just not how it works, is it? You have to pay your dues year after year, make a few mistakes, get yourself a little scared, ask yourself why you're even contemplating this stupid sport. And then it all becomes fun again.



The rest of my day went much better. After myshaky performance on Te Dum I handed the lead over to A for Disneyland (5.6) and Alphonse (5.8), and these climbs did a lot to shake the slipperyfeeling off my fingers and toes. Then I took the lead for the first pitch of Yellow Ridge (5.7), which I'd never been on before, and felt absolutely fine about it. And then we hit Farewell to Arms (5.8), which A led and which I thought packed a ton of climbing intothe shortfirst pitch. This was not an easy 5.8, but I'll write more about that and our other climbs of the day in another post.



We ended our day with a rope up on To Be Or Not To Be (5.12), which none of the three of us could even begin to conquer. As we flailed away at it I couldn't take my eyes off of Birdland, just to the right, another 5.8 that has somehow eluded me these past couple years. I prefer roof climbs to face climbs, and Birdland is definitely in the face climb category, at least for its first pitch. But for some reason it just calls to me, and I'm going to jump on that sucker soon. Something about it just looks so appealing, and knocking it off my list early this year just seems like something I have to do. Assuming my jitters really are shaken off.

Good Times in Never Never Land (5.10a), Battling the Balrog (5.10b), and more!

(Photo: Making the first crux move just off the deck on Absurdland (5.8).)




The day after Thanksgiving is often a great day in the Gunks. The weather is frequently cooperative, and the cliffs are always pretty empty.




This year we had a great time, climbing in shirtsleeves and light jackets, although it was a bit chilly when we first set out. Gail and I climbed in a party of three with Julia, a friend of Gail's with whom I hadn't climbed before. During the drive up, I found out that Julia is a lot like me, working through all the classic 5.9's in the Gunks and setting her sights on the 5.10's.




I knew this might well be my last day of climbing in , so I hoped to get on at least one 5.10.




But first we had to find a good warm-up climb. I suggested Absurdland (5.8), a great single-pitch route I hadn't been on in . I had taken a brief hang at the second crux way back in when I led the climb onsight, and didn't go back until , when I easilyfollowed Maryana up it. I really enjoyed it last year and wanted to go back to send it on lead, which I was confident was well within my abilities nowadays.




The climb reminds me of the first pitch of Son of Easy O (5.8). In both climbs the first 20 feet contain steep, somewhat thin moves up a crack, and then both climbs ease off to beautiful, lower-angled face climbing. On Absurdland the two crux moves come pretty fast off the ground. Both moves are well-protected and maybe a little stiff for 5.8. (The climb has at times been rated an easy 5.9.)




I had no trouble with the cruxes this time around, though I could see why I took that hang back in . The second crux is pumpy and if you aren't confident enough to move right away it is difficult to arrange a rest stance there. There is good pro right at your chin so my advice is that you just go for it! After that move it's all gravy.








(Photo: Julia starting up Gory Thumb (5.9).)




Absurdland ended up setting the agenda for the rest of the day. Everything else we did was nearby.




Julia picked Gory Thumb (5.9) for her first lead. I was glad she selected it because I'd never done it before. I had looked at it and rejected it because it seemed like a squeezed-in route (next to Raunchy and Wild Horses) without too much too offer. I thought the crux thin crack on the white face about 40 feet up would be over in one move, and that the rest of the climb would be a waste of time. Also I was concerned about the pro down low.




But Julia found a really good nut right after the start. (I struggled to remove it.) And I ended up enjoying the pitch. The initial moves are much easier than 5.9 but they are interesting. Up above, the crux is good and well-protected with small wires. You can finish as Julia did by continuing straight up above the crack to an easy fault, or you can contrive to prolong the real climbing by stepping left and making a couple of slab moves up to the ledge, which is what I did (at Gail's suggestion) as the second. Nice pitch. Maybe a touch easy for 5.9? Swain has it as 5.8+.








(Photo: Thin moves right from the jump on Never Never Land (5.10a).)




After Gory Thumb it was my turn to lead again and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. My objective was so close, drawing me like a magnet.




Balrog! Balrog! Balrog!




This climb has been on my list all year, which might seem strange because no one thinks it is an "easy" 5.10. At 5.10b many call it a sandbag. The crux is very unusual, featuring a hanging, sloping corner. You have to find a way to reach up to the holds high in the corner (which plays out like a roof problem), and then find some way to get yourself onto the odd, sloping left wall of the corner. But even though this crux is challenging, it is short, and there is an awesome horizontal crack-- it resembles a mail slot-- for pro right at the crux roof. It is a clean fall into the air if you fail. I figured that even if the crux was too hard for me to onsight I should be able to protect it well.




Why not go for it?




I dispensed with the easy early climbing quickly, placing very little gear. Then I found myself at a slab beneath the looming roof. In this slab was a perfect thin vertical seam. Up close, the crux roof looked much scarier than it did from the trail. There was a great-looking undercling hold in the roof and from there I figured I could reach the mail slot on the left side of the hanging corner and throw in a piece. But if I was wrong and fell reaching for the slot I might tumble awkwardly down the slab. I hesitated quite a bit, placing a nut in the seam, then thinking about the move, and then repeating the whole process.




I ended up placing four (!) nuts in the slab before I finally went for it.




I needn't have worried so much about reaching the mail slot. That part turned out to be no problem.




But I struggled with the crux reach afterward, taking a few hangs before I figured the whole thing out. I had great gear. Ultimately I had two cams in the mail slot, a purple Camalot that was solid if a little shallow and a bombproof red Totem Basic (Alien clone). If you place two cams as I did, make sure to leave some room for your hand and a later toe!








(Photo: Julia on Never Never Land (5.10a), before the crux.)






I was disappointed that I didn't onsight Balrog, but I'm pretty sure I can redpoint it in , so long as I nail the reach after the mail slot to the great hold up in the corner. There is no magic to this reach, you just need the confidence that comes from knowing how bomber the hold is. The subsequent move to the left wall is strenuous, but I think I have it all worked out. I will not spell it all out but I will tell you the secret to my beta:




Sometimes, grasshopper, it is better to push than to pull.




I'm not sure but I suspect I might be doing Balrog the hard way.Dick Williams says in his guidebook that the climb is especially rewarding if you can figure out the easier way to do it. After I got back down, Julia struggled with Balrog much as I did, and then Gail schooled the both of us by sailing up it like it was nothing. I was belaying and couldn't quite tell what she did, but it looked very different from my solution. If you are searching for the especially rewarding easy way to do it I'd suggest you reach out to Gail. She knows.




Note: If you are heading up Balrog in the near future, bring some new webbing. The two pieces of webbing that were tied to the belay tree there in late November were both feeling pretty brittle. We went ahead and used the station but in retrospect I wish we'd replaced the webbing.








(Photo: More of Never Never Land (5.10a), juuust beneath the crux.)




Julia was pissed off about Balrog, and she was on a mission for redemption. She decided to get it by leading Never Never Land (5.10a).




This was her first 5.10 lead and I was honored to witness it. Although Never Never Land has an easier rating than Balrog, I think Never Never Land is a much headier lead, with spaced pro and far more sustained climbing.




Gail and Maryana have been pushing me to lead Never Never Land, but I have resisted, both because this kind of thin face climbing isn't my favorite thing and also because in the summer of I toproped it with Gail and (to my enduring shame) I couldn't do the crux move AT ALL. It was a very hot, slimy day, and at the time, in those conditions, I couldn't imagine doing the move cleanly. The crux crimpers were so greasy, the footholdsnonexistent.On that day I fell several times and then gave up, French-freeing the move by pulling on the draw at the bolt.




This time around I was excited to follow Julia up Never Never Land so I could check it out in better conditions without having to lead the climb. I'm afraid that watching her did not make me want to jump on the sharp end. There is a repeated pattern of hard moves above gear that lead to the stances where one can get pro. A fall at any one of these difficult moves would not be horrible, but would send you for a ride. There are one or two such moves before the crux. Then the crux move just after the bolt is well-protected, but you have to run it out to the piton at the next horizontal, which is quite a ways away. Right before the piton is another hard move. After the piton it eases off a touch and the final moves have better pro but it isn't easy by any stretch. The thin face moves continue all the way to the chain anchors.






(Photo: Julia just past the crux of Never Never Land (5.10a). Big crimpin'! Way to go!)



Julia did a great job, handling the whole thing with a calm intensity. There were some tense moments, but she made it to the top without a fall, elated. When it was my turn, I was pleased to send it on toprope. Still I worry about leading it, as there are at least three places where I can see myself falling off if things don't go just right. Whether on lead or on toprope, I should really do more of this type of thin face climbing. All the way up I kept telling myself (and others!) that I hated the climb, but by the time I reached the chains I had to admit I loved it just a little.



We ended our day with a warm-down. I led Cakewalk (5.7), another nearby classic that usually sees action only on its first pitch, which ends at a bolted chain anchor. On my last and only previous trip up Cakewalk I'd gotten lost and wandered into some much more difficult and poorly-protected climbing, from which I'd thankfully emerged unscathed. This time I made sure to go left immediately after the tree and it was nothing but joy. Some nice face climbing wanders up to the obvious, huge right-facing corner. Dick describes the first part of the pitch as a little run out but I found plenty of pro. Then the burly moves up the corner were great fun. Before I knew it I'd reached the chains. The climb, like , was over much too soon.