Yosemite National Park

After spending Christmas in San Francisco I drove on to Yosemite National Park, which is a few hours away from San Francisco. I arrived in Yosemite in the late afternoon on Christmas Day, with enough time to scout a location to shoot for sunset. Even on Christmas Day there were quite a few visitors in the park. Luckily I was able to find a location that I had all to myself when it came time to start making images. There was snow when I arrived at the park and it looked like it had fallen a couple of days earlier. It was a fairly mild evening with temperatures hovering in the mid-30's, which made for some beautiful fog that hovered just off the ground throughout the floor of the valley. The fog also meant that the trees and shrubs were all covered in frost.





After the sun had set I drove around for a little while looking for locations to do some star shooting once it was dark enough. I found a couple more fantastic spots and as soon as the stars became visible, I was shooting again. I had a wonderful time shooting the stars in Yosemite Valley, and I have a feeling that is something that not many people have done. I have seen many images of Yosemite, but only one or two night-time images. There was a little bit of moonlight which provided some nice illumination on the rocky cliffs. The moonlight wasn't bright enough to wash out the stars, though. And boy, let me tell you.... rarely have I seen a sky so full of stars! It was an incredible night, one I will not soon forget!





I returned to Yosemite again the following day, but the conditions for photography were less than favorable. It was a chilly, damp day with gray skies. I ended up driving around some more on the park roads to some areas that I hadn't seen the day before, but I really didn't take any pictures. I also visited the Ansel Adams Gallery, which is located near the park's visitor center. The gallery is definitely worth a visit. They have some really amazing framed prints of some of Ansel's most famous images, as well as images by other photographers that are well worth a look. Do yourself a favor and check it out if you ever find yourself in Yosemite!

Grateful for Greenways

In my fourth year of cycling in the greater Boston area, I admit that I often get impatient with the greenways that run through the city. Being multi-use paths, they are usually congested with pedestrians. The interruptions are not well thought out. And they don't always take me exactly where I need to go. More often than not, I find myself choosing to cycle on the road instead... which is a shame, because I miss out on the beautiful scenery and the fresh air, all in the name of saving time.





Last weekend the Co-Habitant and I did something we haven't done for almost a year: went on a slow, meandering ride along the Charles River. On a sunny Saturday.Some time ago we'd decided this sort of thing was the stuff of nightmares because of how crowded the trail gets this time of year on weekends. But something in the air made us want to give it a try again.



And yes, it was super-crowded, with everyone photographing cherry blossoms and wandering all over the path without looking where they were going. Dogs on those long, invisible leashes, unattended toddlers making sudden u-turns on trikes, the whole nine yards. We had to ride really, really slowly. We had to be patient. We had to not think of it as cycling, but more like strolling by bike. Every half hour we stopped to sit down on the grass, drink from our flasks, stare at the water, enjoy the sun... It was wonderful!





To think, we were smack in the middle of Boston and not a car in sight. Birds chirping. The smell of grass and flowers. Lovely boats swaying. People sunbathing and having picnics everywhere. Sure we did not do a 50 mile loop through hilly country roads that day. But who cares? It was revitalising. It felt like a mini vacation.



We have several beautiful greenway networks here in Boston, and I truly am grateful for them. Greenways are not merely about getting from point A to point B, but about creating a healthy, flourishing oasis in the middle of a busy city that everyone can enjoy. Yes, they will be crowded on the weekend. And that is a good thing - it means people are using them. Sometimes we all need to take it slow, take it easy, and find a way to share these beautiful resources.

Hubby & Tractor

Even hubby got into the dirt moving business with the tractor.

Interlude

Lovely Bicycle is in the midst of transatlantic displacement.
Thank you for visiting!

Winter Climbing in the Eastern Sierra, -13

There is indeed more to the climbing here than the very popular stuff. Perhaps more than most regions, winter climbing activity in the Eastern Sierra is veryconcentrated. On a busy weekend Chouinard Falls can have eight or more ropes hung across its width. The final weekend of “calendar winter” on Whitney’s Mountaineer’s Route can see hundreds of climbers. Not to mention, of course, the bouldering scene around Bishop. The rest of the range may see fewer alpine climbing visitors in
winter than a single weekend on Whitney.

However, there is a contingent poking around after suitable winter routes. Most classic routes have seen first winter ascents, and then very few, if any. Winter cragging has been, remarkably, limited to the fat flows in Lee Vining Canyon and a handful of more obscure falls. In general, High Sierra climbing has operated through history in hushed tones. These truths leave the contemporary winter climber feeling adventurous and exploratory.

This winter has provided excellent conditions for winter climbing. In early December, a heavy, wet storm plastered the mountains with a coat of base snow.




The Minarets in rare rimed conditions. Closed roads, but still thin snow-base made access too difficult to access. There would have been a day or two of awesome rime climbing for the motivated.


Ian McEleney and I got out around that time to take advantage of the drippy and decidedly Cascadian conditions. First, some “wet-tooling” near thin, early-season ice flows.



Ian on Luke L’s newly bolted dry-tool route “Jango Fett” (M8 or M7 or easier... I on-sighted the 2nd ascent, and I’m no M-rock star) in the Narrows of Lee Vining Canyon. A couple handfuls of newly developed dry-tool routes grace the compact granite walls of this approach-hallway. How many ice climbers have carried their spikes right past opportunities here? How many have climbed without spraying?





http://mountainproject.com/v/narrows---right/107473474








Same day, a little later. Decidedly un-Sierra-like wet snow. Contrary to popular belief, here on the high and dry side of the Sierra we are more accustomed to lighter snow.

Ian and I got out again the very next day on “the Eiger of the Sierra”. Mt. Morrison dominates a climber’s view of the range in the Mammoth Lakes area. Morrison has one of the best peak-bagger’s routes anywhere, an imposing NE face, a few radster ski lines, and a reputation for real crappy rock. I love Mount Morrison. With a plowed trailhead right at the base and the heavy plaster-coat of
snow, a scouting mission to the North Ridge seemed in order. We had ridiculously windy conditions, but otherwise found a classic, metamorphic ridge in great shape. Rumors of loose rock were not unfounded, but somewhat exaggerated. In short, this ridge is fully worth the effort for a winter climber.




Ian low on the North Ridge of Mt. Morrison.



The metamorphic experience is unique for us Sierra-spoiled
scramblers.



Given that this is primarily a gear review and discussion blog, it wouldn’t do to gloss over what experienced Sierra ridge practitioners are carrying for a day like this. Truth is, I can’t speak to exactly that. But I can tell you what Ian and I carried. With 5000 feet of vertical relief and most of that relief at least mildly technical, pack weight is crucial. A day like this reveals the truth in the
oft-quoted Exupery maxim: “Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” As you can see below, we didn’t come even close to perfection, given what percentage of our pack weight we didn’t use.



Critical gear considerations:

Boots: Silver Trangos for me, some sort of orange boots for Ian. He’s since “seen the light” and now owns a pair of Trangos. Packs: I rock a CCW Ozone, basically stock. Ian now has his own as well, with CT-approved customizations. Indeed, Ian has copied me twice already in this list. But that’s where it ends. I won’t even open Pandora’s box of lessons he’s taught me. Rope and rack: 30m, couple cams, few stoppers. Never used. Light axe each: Camp Corsa for me, Grivel something-or-other for Ian. One pair of Darts between us. Never used. Light, go-fast clothes. Crux for both of us was sealing pant/boot interface without gaiters and/or crampon straps. The now “standard” practice of an instep bungee was inadequate for the big post-holing descent. Any reader tips? I know, I know, maybe full gaiters have their place, but it’s tough to reverse the vanity...


Lightweight emergency kit. More than first aid, but not much more.



http://www.jediahporter.com//01/emergencyfirst-aid-kit.html







Higher, dancing with slivers of sun. Wind and cold
conspired to make the sun little more than a photo-enhancer.









Even higher, another bit of sun, and the Great Basin desert beyond.


Lee Vining Canyon has long been California’s ice climbing headquarters. Beta here:

http://aboutmyadventure.com/directories/shared_photos/lee_vining/72-75.htm]



Chouinard’s well-known early instructional piece shows photos of climbing and training in the drainage that shades a frozen fall bearing his name. Countless climbers, between sunny boulder sessions, big-time ski mountaineering endeavors, and 5-days-a-week in one of the Golden State’s countless industries, have learned, do learn, and will learn, their icy trade here. Busy weekends at LVC prompt a cringe from even the most dedicated climber.




Ian on Plumb Line on the Main Wall, LVC. With fat ice and fat bolts, who’s to blame folks for mobbing Lee Vining Canyon? Find a mid-week day, get there early and stay late, and crowds won’t be a problem. Show up at 10am on a holiday Saturday and all bets are off...



Avoiding the crowds and getting as much sun as you can safely get while Cali ice climbing. Late afternoon refraction on the Main Wall.





Yet another crowd-avoidance strategy: Rocking out on the
locker-tool-cams-in-a-blank-shallow-corner, pull-up-party that is “Carless Torque”.

Ian and I grabbed a day for each of us to clean up some old projects. He ticked off a scrappy mixed line right of the main flow on Chouinard Falls and then we swung leads on the mega-classic, “Heel Toe”.



Topping out pitch 1 of Heel Toe.





Ice and mixed climbing and splitter granite. Indeed folks,
this is the same batholith that underlies Tuolumne Meadows and into which Yosemite
Valley has cut. This alone is worth the price of admission.

It seems that each winter I climb with just one partner the entire season. This winter it is Ian. Ian and I both guide, climb at similar standards, have similar aspirations and have remarkably similar backgrounds. We are both new to dry-tooling and mixed climbing and have appreciated reviews and gear recommendations from this site. Perhaps more than anything else, Ian isn’t afraid to try and fail big. I too love trying and failing big. Well, the love of failing is a complicated love. But isn’t all love that way? Anyway, there’s nothing like a buddy that will invest it all (and has a lot to invest) in some harebrained mission. One day in mid January this year we set out to tackle such an endeavor. We’ll keep the details few and the photos fewer. It can be summed up thusly...



So much promise... (and no, that’s not where we were headed)





And so much punishment. (and no, we don’t recommend that amount of post-holing, especially up hill, and especially early in the day when psyche is so vulnerable. Lesson: Given the choice, post-hill downhill and toward home. Obvious, right. I wish we could claim to be “thinking outside the box”.)


Needless to say, we didn’t send that day in Rock Creek. We have, together, failed on larger endeavors with greater heartache. Individually we have come up short on even larger undertakings. We will keep trying, keep sending, and keep failing. I wish you all the same!

About the author: Jed Porter climbs, skis and lives in the Eastern Sierra of California. He works full-time, year-round as a guide there.



Check out his website
at http//www.jediahporter.com

Spring Runoff

There seems to be more water in this creek at the bottom of a rocky canyon on the road where the Gillman Tunnels are than I have seen in several years. That is really good.

Bike on the T: a Mini Adventure

A couple of days ago I happened to visit a bike shop in downtown Boston and the owner had an interesting bicycle in the back - very unusual to see in the US. I commented on it, and he uttered this fateful reply: "Oh this thing? Take it, please!Get it out of here!" And he made me an offer I could not refuse - dared not refuse. Before I knew it, I was standing by the Boston Harbor with the bike, grinning like a madwoman at my unexpected acquisition.



But once the euphoria subsided, the reality of it hit. Missing a saddle, seatpost and front brake, the bike was not ridable and I lived 4 miles away. There was no way I was rolling it all the way home. It was time to try the dreaded "bike on the T." I had heard horror stories about it from others, but now I would find out for myself.





In Boston, bikes areallowed on the subwayon weekdays before 7am, between 10am and 4pm, and after 7pm. It was now 3pm, so I was just in the nick of time before the evening rush hour ban.I walked the bike to South Station and looked for an entrance that indicated the presence of an elevator. I could not find one, and rather than try every single entrance decided to carry the bike down the stairs. It was on the heavy side, but easy to hold by the top tube - overall, not too bad.





Once underground, I headed for the extra-wide handicapped entrance, slid my "Charlie card" along the electronic reader, and like magic I was in. The bike got a lot of looks from passers-by, and a couple of people asked me sympathetically whether my saddle had been stolen. The station was not too crowded, and rolling the bike along did not present any difficulties.





Knowing that a series of staircases awaited in order to reach the platform, this time I made it a point to look for an elevator. I found one pretty quickly.





It was a roomy elevator, with plenty of space for bikes, wheelchairs and baby strollers. I pressed the button that indicated the platform I needed to get to, then disembarked when the elevator stopped at that floor.





Immediately there was a sign for the platform, but then... more stairs despite having taken the elevator! It is possible that I did something wrong, but the elevator did indicate that this was the correct place to disembark. Confusing, though I was fine carrying the bike down some more stairs.





Finally I was at the platform, waitingwith a decent-sized crowd of othersfor the train to arrive. I began to strategise: I would try to enter so as to get in the corner of the car, where I could stay close to the door and have some space. As the train pulled up, I could see that some of the cars were emptier than others, and quickly walked toward one of those.





As planned, I was able to get into the corner of the car and stay close to the door. There was even an empty seat, and I positioned the bike in front of me at an angle, so that the people in the seats next to me could come and go without the bike blocking their way. The ride was bumpy, and I wedged the front wheel between my knees in addition to holding the bike, to keep it stable. The other passengers steered clear of the bike and did not bump it or brush up against it, which was nice (whenI mentioned this to the Co-Habitant later, he suggested they were probably afraid to get their clothes dirty - the bike looked filthy!). Once the train reached my station, I got up and rolled the bike backwards out of the train - not difficult as we were right by the door.





At the station, I decided not to even bother looking for an elevator and took the bike on a series of escalators.Then I rolled it home, which was a 12 minute walk.



Overall, I would describe my experience of taking a bike on the T in Boston as unproblematic. It is of course crucial to pay attention to the rules regarding which trains allow bikes and when, and to plan accordingly. If your bike is so heavy that you cannot carry it up and down stairs, I would also suggest looking at station maps beforehand to familiarise yourself with the locations of elevators; they are not always obvious. As the train arrives, keeping an eye on the cars and aiming for one of the emptier ones is a good idea, and looking for a spot in the corner of the car will ensure proximity to the doors. If you find that the car is getting crowded as your station nears, you could warn people that you are getting off at the next stop and will need to wheel your bike out. Other than that, I cannot really think of any additional advice.



In close to three years of cycling in Boston, this was my first time taking a bike on the subway and I am glad it went well. Now, to find a seatpost for this bike...

Mountain Snowpack Begins to Build Again

The recent storms have brought almost 40" of fresh snow to the mountain and more is expected in the near future. While this bodes well for the upcoming climbing season, the inclement weather does nothing to help with the road reconstruction effort underway. Still, the forecasted reopen dates remain in effect: April 1st for the opening to Longmire and May 1st for the opening of the road to Paradise. Unfortunately, with road reconstruction in full swing, there really isn't public access to Paradise... Even if you have the energy and determination to ski or hike the road. More on Access

Over the weekend rangers climbed to Camp Muir to inspect conditions and dig out facilities. I've included several photos here from this trip to whet your appetite.
While things are quiet here at the Park, this might be a good time to get a jump on things and purchase your 2007 climbing pass and cut down on the time you will spend during registration. Complete the Climbing Pass Purchase Form and fax it to 360.569.3131.

The Deer's View

Later, after the deer had gone - where ever they go - I wondered up to where they had been and took a photo of their view. You can see it was a long way from the house which is alm ost hid behind trees and a grape view. To the right is an old barn that has been converted to a garage, and to the left is Jim's workshop.

Clouds and Smokey Sun

Took this one 2 evenings ago. The clouds give it a nice look even with all the smoke.

Tear Up A Pillow!!!!!

Wiley, our youngest cat of 1 year, decided the other day that he would tear up one of the pillows I keep on the couch. I have had dogs do this a lot but this is the first cat. Of course it could have been because there was a small tear in it. But who knows. Maybe it is because Wiley is just a fun loving wild cat.

Outside Lights

Lights on the tree and swing just outside the front door.

A Cruel Transition

Particularly in New England, November has always struck me as a cruel month. At the beginning, the fiery foliage and the azure skies carry over from October.



The crisp, but still warm air is charged with just the right amount of electricity to gently stir our emotions. And we are lulledinto a state of self-willed denial that soon it will all be yanked away from us in one fell swoop - replaced with desolate landscapes, freezing temperatures and perilous road conditions... for the next 4 months.



As far as cycling goes, I must admit the memories ofhow difficult last winter was fill me with dread. I am trying not to panic, but to be prepared instead. And part of that is just being mentally prepared for what's to come.



My biggest disappointment last winter was discovering that any kind of sporty cycling was out of the question after temperatures dropped below freezing, because I had trouble breathing at speeds over 10-12 mph. The science of that is still a mystery to me, especially since I can cross-country ski in the winter without experiencing the same problem. And I know that other cyclists havetroublewith this as well - it might just be a genetic difference in how our lungs are structured, whereby for some it is a problem and for others not. This year I will try some tricks that have been suggested to deal with the breathing issue, but if it doesn't work I am prepared to accept things as they are and hang up my roadbikes until spring. Or so I tell myself.



But as far as transportation cycling goes, I do not anticipate any great changes in my routine. Last winter I was able to get anywhere I needed to go on my Pashley, taking it slowly and enjoying its stability and winter-proofness (wide tires, internally geared hub, full chaincase). This winter I am looking forward to seeing how the Gazelle and Bella Ciao perform in comparison. Most likely I will ride the Gazelle for local trips, and the Bella Ciao (after I get a rack and lights for it) for more hilly, long-distance trips. And the rest of my bicycles will be put away, including my custom mixte - which I just cannot bring myself to ride in the winter, yet.



But all this is still in the future. For now November has been good, and the increasingly desolate landscape has a romantic charm to it that I hope it will retain for at least another few weeks. It's a cruel transition, but a trusty bicycle is a good ally to have.