We love new gear.

The very wise marketing team at Wild Country (UK) wereconcerned about me climbing on French made gear. Not safety, style.They are so style conscious, the Brits.So they chose this stunning outfit for me.The Wild Country Ultralite Elite harness.And they racked it up, left and right, with their latest and totally techno-fabulousHelium quickdraws.



Climbers, you know I'm not that fussy about harnesses and quickdraws, I've used a lot of junk in my time and I never blame my gear,but when I took this lotfor a burl today I felt like I was using the best.Good gear matters.

















The Helium Quickdraws areabsolutely superb. They are lighter than anything I've used before.The dogbones are fat, the way I like them, andthe wire gate secures in an ingenious recessed fashion, no doubt made possible by tricky new manufacturing techniques.And how good do they look?



The first matching set of quickdraws I ever bought were Wild Country, and I fondled them all the way home in the car from Brisbane.

I don't know what a quickdraw will look like in 10 years, but for now this is as good as it gets.Thanks Wild Country, thanks Steve Foster.

Gushing, I know.But don't tell me you guyshaven't slept with your new gear beside your bed.





Good night.

jj

How do they know?

There are a lot of technical problems with this picture. I've been trying to get a shot of the chickens when they are taking a dust bath, but it's hard to sneak up on dustbathing chickens, especially when a large dog insists on shadowing you.

They keep running away when I get close. Like some people, I guess chickens feel vulnerable in their bath. (Did they see Psycho too?)

So for now all I have is this problematic picture, too dark in one part and too light in another, distracting bits of wood that the dog's dragged into the area, and a picnic table sticking out in one corner. Sorry.

If you'd never seen birds taking a dust bath, you might think that they had gone nuts.

If there is no loose dirt available, they'll dig it up themselves (no lawn is safe).

They alternately flatten themselves in the dirt, and roll over onto their sides in it. They wriggle in it and use their wings to throw it up onto their backs. All while fluffing themselves up so that the dust can reach every feather.

When they've gotten enough dust on them, they stand up and shake it all off. Sometimes it seems like there's enough dirt in there to make a whole other chicken.

I've read that taking a dust bath helps with feather maintenance (absorbs excess oil) and keeps bugs away. Wild birds do it too.

But these chickens never knew a mother or an elder hen or rooster, having been born in incubators and shipped from the hatchery when they were just hours old.

So how do they know to take a dust bath?

Maybe it's hard-wired in their brains, a little instruction somewhere on the DNA.

Or maybe it's just obvious to them. Thirsty, drink water. Itchy, take a dust bath. Just one of the things that chickens are born knowing?

Mt. Rainier, Kautz Glacier

After climbing the easiest routes on Rainier, we wanted to climb something a little more challenging. So we decided to try the Kautz Glacier.

We crossed the Nisqually Glacier, then we went up a gully called "The Fan." It is full of rocks that break loose each day as it warms up.




We headed up the Wilson Glacier and found a great camp site just below the Turtle Snowfield. The rock wall would serve as a windbreak and there was running water close at hand. Unlike Camp Muir, we did not have 99 people camping right beside us. Mt. Adams in the background.





Jonathan in the kitchen area.





The main challenge of the Kautz Glacier route is a short section of 45 degree ice.










The shadow of Rainier just after sunrise. If you want to get the most out a sunrise, you need to be above 11,000' in elevation!





Jonathan finishing the fun part of the route.





Dave just above the icy section.







One of several large crevasses on the upper mountain.








Dave and Jonathan on the summit. The upper mountain was really windy and covered by a cloud cap.










Doug (holding onto his hood) and Jonathan. We took pictures and headed right back down.










Jonathan found a hidden crevasse on the way down!









Here are 3 tired and hungry climbers just a couple of hours from the car and some real food. Jonathan was able to summit an intermediate route for his first attempt on Rainier! It was fun to climb something new and challenging in this awesome part of creation.

Plumeria Flower Bud

A plumeria getting ready to bloom.

Why Carry Tools I Can't Use?

In a recent post I wrote that, when roadcycling, I've come to prefer carrying just the bare minimum that fits in my jersey pockets instead of a full-fledged saddlebag or handlebar bag - as the latter I inevitably tend to overpack, ending up with a 30lb+ bike before I know it. However, I neglected to mention an object that is so small and unobtrusive that I basically think of it as part of the bike and forget it is even there: my saddle wedge tool pack.

Mine is the small waterproof "Pak" by Fizik. It was put together by the Ride Studio Cafe and included with the Seven I had on loan last summer. When I returned the bike, I bought the bag from them and now use it on my own roadbike. A mere 5"x2.5"x2.5" it fits snugly underneath a narrow road saddle. It contains a set amount of objects and won't fit anything else, so there is no danger of overpacking it and weighing the bike down.

Inside the tiny bag is a folding allen tool, a spare inner tube, 2 tire irons and an air cartridge - just enough to take care of one flat tire and any mechanical problem that can be fixed with a 1.5mm-6mm hex wrench.

Of course, it helps to be able to use those tools. If you've been reading this blog for some time, you know that I am unable to do most of my own repairs. I know how to do them, but have nerve damage in my hands and lack the hand strength and fine motor control to physically do them. I can't open the quick releases on most wheelsets, it takes me a good half hour to get a tire seated on a rim even in the best case scenario, and turning an allen key with sufficient force is out of the question. Keeping in mind these limitations, I always check my bike thoroughly before leaving the house, use tires with puncture protection, know where the nearest bike shops are, and have cash and a phone in my jersey in case I get stranded in the middle of nowhere and need to call a taxi (for the record, the number of times that has happened so far has been zero).

So why carry tools if I can't use them? Because that way, others can help. When cycling alone, it would not be the end of the world to take a taxi home if my bike breaks down. But when cycling with another person, my mechanical malfunction can ruin their day as well. Last week I met up with another cyclist for a ride, and en route I noticed with horror that my front brake caliper had gotten misaligned, so that the left brake pad was rubbing the rim. I was unable to fix it myself, but I had the allen tool in my saddle wedge and my riding partner (who was not carrying her own tools that day) fixed it in 2 minutes. Having that tool pack made all the difference between doing the ride vs both of us having to go home.

I am of the school of thought that cyclists should not be shamed for being unable to do their own repairs. Not everyone can. But having a tiny tool pack permanently attached to my roadbike can at least make it possible for a more mechanically inclined cyclist to help me out, should the situation call for it.



Have you had mechanical malfunctions while out on your roadbike, and were you carrying any tools? If yes, were they helpful?

Solar Shock Wave

There were AWESOME northern lights last night! It was an unexpected (for me, anyway) occurrence as Earth passed through a region of south-pointing magnetism in the solar wind. I didn't know there was even a chance of northern lights until I looked at the Aurora Soft Serve News website late in the afternoon and saw that the aurora was "Active". I kept checking the site throughout the evening and the kp index kept creeping up until eventually it was at "Storm" level! We had quite a few clouds at sunset which had me discouraged but not long after the sun went down the sky cleared and stayed that way the entire night. I left the house at 11:00 PM and returned about 4:00 AM. This photo is my favorite out of the 300+ images that I shot last night. I was even lucky enough to capture a shooting star in the top left of the photo! The feeling that you get as these waves of aurora wash through the sky is indescribable. Let's just say you feel very humbled and fortunate to be able to witness such an awe-inspiring phenomenon!

Kings Canyon :: Bubbs Creek Trail

The Bubbs Creek Trail follows the South Fork Kings River to Avalanche Creek and on to Bubbs Creek. A little over two miles long, it is the first leg of the hike to Mist Falls (2.5 miles further), which was my ultimate destination. The trail starts out on the north side of the river. Crossing a suspension bridge gets you to the south side where the trail meanders through meadows dotted with ponderosa pine and cedar trees. Towering peaks rise up on both sides of the river dwarfing everything beneath them.

A calm section of the South Fork Kings River. The big boulder in the distance is known as the Muir Rock. From this wide, flat rock, John Muir used to deliver impassioned speeches about the Sierra. When referring to logging the giant trees, he said that mankind may as well "sell the rain clouds and the snow and the rivers to be cut up and carried away, if that were possible."

Narrow spots in the river, along with boulders and rocks in the water, create sections of rough water. I love the sound of the water flowing through these areas.

There were some areas along the trail that required scrambling over rocks, but for the most part the trail was relatively level with open meadows mingled with forested areas. About three quarters of the way down the trail there were several small streams that had to be crossed using rocks as stepping stones, or simply walking through the shallow, swift flowing waters.

But then I came to this. The three logs were 8-10 feet long. The water was about 18” deep and very, very fast. I stuck my hiking stick in to the bottom of the stream and the current almost grabbed it out of my hand. It's hard to see in the photo but once you got across the wet, slippery logs there was a downed tree that you had to get over and another 10 feet or so of water (though it didn't look quite as deep) before you reached the other side.

Three times I made the attempt to cross. The logs were of varying sizes. They were slippery. There was no good footing and I'm not good at walking the balance beam! I looked upstream and down for another way to cross but saw nothing. There was no one else around to offer assistance. Reluctantly, I turned around and walked back the way I had come, disappointed but at the same time, savoring the beauty around me.

Along the way back I thought of my options. I could go to the beginning again and take the trail on the North side of the river but that would make the days hike 12.5 miles instead of the original 8.5 and though the view at Mist Falls promised to be nice (a 50 foot waterfall that drops over a ledge into a boulder-lined pool) I decided not to continue on to the falls.