Giant Oaks in Los Osos

Los Osos Forest, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Here's a view from within the forest at Los Osos Oaks State Reserve. What a cool park - the trees (coast live oaks) are huge and ancient, while nearby lies pygmy forest and chaparral. Some of the oaks were over 250 years old, and it's great to see they have been preserved so well.

Getting schooled in Chamonix.

Intitial gully of the Burnier-Vogler, N. Face of the Midi, yesterday.





A year ago while climbing in the Rockies, myclimbing partnerasked, "Where would you go to learn "alpine climbing"?



My quick answer was Chamonix. Every good alpine climber that I have admired over the years has spent some time here. And I have always thought that what they learned here was a major influence on their climbing careers.



I've been here 12 days. In that time we've had 40cm of snow, in two dumps. And as much as I know alpine climbing is all about conditions, I've generally ignored that and climbed anyway. Wallowing in cold dry snow has followed. While wearing all the clothes I own. A few interesting lessons for me already.



No Neve to be found here :) There was however lots of waist deep snow being shed off thehard, dryice.







It could be worse. But at the moment this has been the onlyresult of being slow on route. Bivy in the WC on the Midi station. Breakfast and a coffee in town followed after the first lift down the next morning. If nothing else climbing in Chamonix is sureal.

It's a School Night Matt.

The force is strong in this one.

Even before meeting him he had bugged the hell out of us all on qurank.com







"I turn my back for 5 minutes and these little Tinny (Mt. Tinbeerwah)kids are running around qurank and theCrag, posting like they're on red cordial and pixie sticks. Between posts from Sister Matt and Chester 2000, I'm finding it hard to catch some shut-eye.



We can blame JJ for encouraging them. "

Lee Cujes





It's true. I figuredthis precocioustweenager wasn't going to go away, so we had to take him in and show him the craft. Now he's my coach.











Within a few years Matt is working some of the hardest routes around. He is the onlyclimber to seriously take on the Lee Cujes test piece "Bite the Hand that Feeds" Coolum's hardest and as yet unrepeated.

























Sensational flexibility gained from previous years of gymnastics have given Matt a crazy range of moves.His years of pianoaccordian training haven't shown anyusefulness yet though. Mercifully.















Here's an example of whatputs schoolboy Matt Schimkein the top handful of Queenslands sport climbers.A wirey strength and explosive energy.

















Here's the kooky thing about Matt: He has a savant like memory for beta.He can tell you the sequence for any route that he has ever seen.Not just his beta but the exact sequence that each individual climber has used for each route.Spooky, I know.

I often say "Hey Matt how do I do this bit again?"



Thanks to Matt's Mum for all the yummy cookies.

Ring of Steall project sent!

Ring of Steall, 8c+, Steall Crag, Glen Nevis. Photos by Claire MacLeod. Click on the pics for a bigger view.

Yesterday I climbed the Ring of Steall project at Steall hut crag. When I got to the belay I had to slap myself and confirm with Claire that it had actually just happened and I wasn’t dreaming. In fact, a dream like state was exactly how I climbed it. The whole thing flowed with effortless ease and perfectly focused effort, on the very first time I made a proper redpoint attempt. Ascents that happen so perfectly with no mistakes, no hesitation and no consciousness of self are so rare. Nevermind on a route I’ve been trying for ten years! I’d say that was by far the most focused moment of my life so far. It was so unexpected, but maybe it had to be to occur in the first place?

This project has been an inspiration simmering in the back of my head for ten years. It was equipped and tried by Cubby in the early nineties and he worked hard on it, coming very close to getting past the crux section before injury and work got in the way and the momentum was lost. I’ve talked with Dave about the project many times since and it was always a huge goal for either of us. If Dave had done it in ’92, it would have been one of the top five sport routes in the world at the time – an incredible effort.

Dave was (still is) a massive inspiration to my climbing, and climbing his hardest routes was a huge goal of mine, in my progression in climbing. Although I managed to climb most of them, the Steall project always remained as a huge test I wanted to pass, but that crux just felt brick hard. Every year I had a day on it, and every year it seemed above my level.

The crux Egyptian of Ring of Steall

It’s about 8a+ to get to the big undercut in the centre of the wall, then you have to get an evil sloping crimp with your left hand, that is so smooth, it’s almost like its been buffed and polished – nothing but pure strength will do to hold it. Then, it’s the Egyptian. Over the past month I’ve walked down the path from Steall feeling that it’s the most beautiful move I’ve ever experienced on rock, and other nights been cursing it to hell. Last week I finally mastered the correct timing of how to drop the knee and then push in the exactly correct direction with each foot. It’s the ultimate move – when performed with technical excellence, it's easy. But if you don’t move the limbs in the correct sequence of subtle shifts, no amount of strength or psyche will make any impression.

This type of climbing suits Cubby’s technical mastery perfectly, so it’s a shame that he wasn’t able to finish it. It’s no surprise to me that the route left such a big impression on him as it has done on me – perfect movement in a beautiful place.

Having completed this route, if I had to give up climbing tomorrow due to some disaster, I’d be satisfied with my effort. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt that. Climbing it has confirmed in my mind something I felt for the first time after climbing Rhapsody; We can really do anything, and I mean anything we want. Circumstances are indeed barriers, but never impenetrable ones. We are limited only by knowing exactly what we want and having the pure motivation to find it. I always heard this idea from ‘motivational types’ in the past. As a sceptic I’ve spent over ten years trying to refute it by repeatedly trying seemingly impossible projects. Every time the result is the same – Tasks you are not truly motivated for may always remain beyond your reach, tasks you are deeply motivated for take you on a long and convoluted route around the barriers that circumstances create. Sometimes, in the thick of the maze of circumstances, you realise your motivation is not deep enough and its best to try something else. But when the motivation remains through deep frustration, the results are always… always… just around the corner.

How cool is that.

Painted by Moonlight

Taken during June's full moon, this is a 30 second exposure where the moon was behind the rock just below the tree.


Here is a similar shot to the one above, only this is what happens when you leave the shutter open for 5 minutes instead of 30 seconds. I love how the clouds turned out in this one! They reminded me of brush strokes from a paint brush, hence my name for the photo.

Canyonlands National Park

If you like the canyon country but the thought of the insane crowds at the Grand Canyon turns your stomach, then Canyonlands National Park is for you! Featuring canyon vistas no less impressive than those of the Grand Canyon, Canyonlands is a heavenly park. Near Moab, Utah the park is easily accessible by car. However, if you want to fully appreciate this park (something I have yet to do) you need to spend at least a few days here and explore the park away from the main road. Canyonlands is a vast park with many things to see, but it takes time to see them and appreciate them. On my next trip to the southwest I hope to spend at least a few days here.

Above: These 2 images are actually from Dead Horse Point State Park, a short detour along the same road that brings you into Canyonlands. Dead Horse Point is a beautiful place with impressive canyon views to both the east and the west, making it a fantastic location for either sunrise or sunset shooting.

(Above and below: A sampling of some of the views available from the main park road.)

Wordless Wednesday :: Frosty Morning

Albion, Indiana ~ January 20, ..
Copyright © .. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman

Belles and Beaus, Oh My!

Big Sigh. To my knowledge, there are no wedding pictures of my parents or grandparents. If they exist, I surely don't know where they are! I went through the box of old family pictures that my dad had given me but found no pictures that "screamed out" the "belles & beaus" theme for the upcoming edition of fM's Smile for the Camera Carnival.

So what's a gal to do. I've never been married so I can't show you any pictures of my (non-existent) ceremony. You could use your imagination and think of what it might have been like. Something non-traditional and a bit unusual perhaps. I do have pictures of several fellows that I dated in past lives but I don't think it would be fair to them to show their mugs all over the internet.

Instead, here are a couple of pictures of my grandparents, Hazlette Brubaker and Victor Phend, together, in casual poses. These were from a box given to me by my uncle a few years ago. None of the photos are dated so I don't know where or when they were taken.

If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say these pictures were taken between 1919 and 1921. They didn't meet each other until after the end of World War I and they were married on October 15, 1921 (the first time). Grandpa was 28 and grandma was 19 years old at the time of their marriage.

I wish I had seen the pictures when grandma and grandpa were still alive. What's going on in that first picture? Why are they walking in the railroad tracks, and where? Who took the pictures? Notice grandma's brother Bill in the background of the last picture, thumbing his nose at the camera, the little imp! [As always, right-click on the images for a larger version.]

Badlands :: Where the Buffalo Do Roam

Wednesday, August 24th - - As I pulled in the Sage Creek Basin Overlook, I remembered from the sign at Hay Butte that bison reportedly roam this area but I hadn't noticed any. I drove on over to the far side of the parking area and was getting out of Van Dora when I heard a grunting, snorting sound behind me.





Turning around I saw a long line of buffalo, the first few were approaching the top of the bluff and were just a few feet away! They extended for quite a distance down the hill. I immediately got back into the van and put the windows down so I could take pictures.





The vast majority of the buffalo came up on the passenger side of the van but the one above and below came up on the drivers side, and oh, so close!





I think this one must have been the calf of the one above. They stuck pretty close to each other the entire time I saw them.





I thought this was the last of them...



So after they passed by, I gathered some nerve and stood up outside the van and saw more of them coming.





Others that had already come up moved slowly through the parking lot, some continuing on across the road. But some of them stopped to browse or scratch their bellies on the posts that delineated the parking lot.





They were of all different ages and sizes and colors. Just like people, bison have distinguishing characteristics too.













For about 15 minutes I was entirely alone with this herd of bison. It was incredible. The sounds they made were like nothing I had ever heard before – growling, grunting, snorting. This car was stopped in the road waiting for the buffalo to pass – it took about 30 minutes from the time I first saw them for all of them to get to the top of the bluff and across the highway. This one lone bison lingered for quite some time scratching his belly on the post then he (or she) too moved on. And all I could do was shake my head and say Wow! again and again.

Parisian morning: A stroll on the River Seine and a quick encounter with a Parisian stranger

It’s just been 2 weeks since I was in Paris and now it felt like forever. My life is fast-paced, mostly because of my work, so I try to squeeze in a lot of ‘me’ and ‘doing nothing much’ time into my schedule to recover, keep my sanity and put my feet firmly on the ground. Work can sometimes be overwhelming so a short or long trip in between to unwind and forget about corporate slavery is always welcome. I should not complain because this slavery has rewarded me the €€€.

So on our second day in Paris, we will be taking the free boat trip from the hotel but before doing so Bru and I would like to do a typical Parisian stroll along the River Seine, from Bastille to the Notre Dame Church area where we will have coffee.

Here’s some of the pictures we took during the stroll:

Bru and I. Bru does not like the sun. She avoids it more than I do =)

Playing the tourist here.

At the café around the corner of Notre Dame we had coffee. Our table was tactically located for people watching, which I never take any less anyway. We were sitting right on the corner street with a view to the Notre Dame Church.

While Bru was at the toilet freshening herself up, I briefly and awkwardly met a Parisian stranger.

French men by the way are generally not my type. I don’t know why. But they are a charming lot, and romantic and often tell a woman that she is beautiful. Something that the Dutch totally lack. A French man can woo a woman and sweep her off her feet, while the Dutch will never get the hint even if she says, ‘It would be nice if you surprise me tonight with some flowers, or a dinner perhaps.’ But the smooth talker French man has higher chances of taking a mistress on the side than the boring, loyal and reliable Dutch man.

Alright, there goes your stereotypes =). Haha.

Anyway, I was totally embarrassed, red-faced. In front of everyone, this Parisian man just came up to me and declared his admiration. I felt the ground swallowing me up. He even wanted to sit down but I told him that I am with someone. He got the hint and left me with quixotic phrases to mull over about. And I was puzzled like--Huh, what was that all about? These kinds of encounters rarely happen in the Netherlands you know. But I do not go out a lot as well sitting on cafe teracces...

Situations like these always reminds me the risks of a female travelling alone. I’ve had worse encounters with men in Spain and in Italy. But the French remains the ones with finesse. They know the complex art called ‘woman’.

I am a sucker for strategic cafe seating and people watching. Best spot near Notre Dame.

Bru and moi having morning coffee around the corner of Notre Dame Church.

More Paris stories soon! BISOUS.