The information about Gabe was positive considering the fact that he was carried over 3,000 feet in an avalanche down the side of a major Canadian mountain! After the slide, Gabe fortuitously was not buried, but did end up spending three days and nights alone (at times in sub-freezing weather) on top of the debris.Gabe is on the recovery schedule, but it’s going to be tough. He lost a fair amount of weight and was severely injured. Gabe fractured his right femur and tore numerous ligaments and tendons in his left knee. The femur fracture will mend, but the torn muscles, ligaments, tendons AND bone will be much more problematic. Included in the injury was a partially collapsed lung. As his father best said,
“All of this [however] seems so trivial compared to the wound he sustained fromGabe was medi-evacuated to Eugene Oregon for extended treatment. If you’d like to send Gabe your thoughts, his address is:
losing his best friend, Charlie. I am far less certain of that injury ever
healing.”
St. Charles Medical Center
2500 NE Neff Road
Bend, OR 97701
Room 333
I’d like to acknowledge and thank the Canadian Park Wardens, medics, doctors, nurses and other caregivers that have responded to this incident and cared for Gabe and Charlie. This image is courtesy Parks Canada, Brad White.
One challenge to expect when cycling in the winter, is that bicycle lanes tend to "disappear" - either under snow banks, or under cars that take overthe bike lane when snow covers their parking spots.
The pictures here are of Day 3 after our latest snow fall, and the plows have been working continuously. Still, the snow banks cover a good three feet or more of the the righthand side of the road in both directions.
For those who live in areas with well-developed cycling infrastructure, this change can be especially difficult: Accustomed to traveling almost exclusively via bike lanes, having to now cycle directly with car traffic can be a bewildering experience. That is one reason I think it is important to get comfortable with "vehicular cycling" even if it does not seem like you need it. Once the snow arrives, there is no way to tell what part of your journey will have the familiar bike lanes available and what part will dump you directly into the traffic lane.
While side streets are quieter than main roads, the drawback is that they are not plowed as thoroughly. Here you can see that even the narrow space in the middle of the street is covered with a layer of snow. The car and the cyclist ahead must carefully navigate around each other in sharing this space, ideally at low speeds.
In addition to the limited space, there is also a greater number of obstacles in the road than usual: There are newly formed pot holes, which are not infrequently iced over, and also just chunks of snow and ice strewn all over. Cycling can feel like a technical trial, where the cyclist is forced to do a little dance to avoid ice chunks on one side and potholes on the other - all while remaining keenly aware of the presence of cars behind them.
I am not one to sensationalize the supposed dangers of cycling. But when the roads start to look like this, I think it is important to be aware of the potential pitfalls. All the things you took for granted earlier - from the texture of the asphalt, to the way your bike handles, to the availability of bike lanes, no longer hold true.
When the weather is like this, all you can do really is know what to expect - and use your judgment to determine whether you can handle it. While the presence of bike lanes is not particularly important to me, the loose chunks of hard snow and ice are what deters me from cycling just now. It's too stressful to navigate around them while dodging cars, so I will wait it out. The Co-Habitant, on the other hand, is delighted to ride in these conditions. To each their own!
Death Valley from Dante's View, 5500 feet above the valley.
The Golden Mountains. Those two little vertical “lines” in the middle of the picture are people!
This is an area known as the Artist's Palette.
At Zabriskie Point.
Zabriskie Point.
The Devil's Golf Course. Telescope Peak, in the background, is the highest peak (over 11,000 feet) in the Panamint Range that borders Death Valley on the west.
Close up view of the Devil's Golf Course. In 1934, it was determined that the salt and gravel beds of the Devil's Golf Course extend to a depth of more than 1,000 feet. Later studies suggest that in places the depth ranges up to 9,000 feet.
The salt flats at Badwater, which is the lowest point in Death Valley at 232 feet below sea level. Walking on the salt flats was strange. It looked like concrete but there was some “give” in each step. In several spots there were muddy pools of water where small holes had been made in the salt flat.
Remember Al ? He's been hanging around a bit. Sometimes he needs encouragement. Frey offers a few words.
Separation Anxiety starts at the little hobbit hole, so I crawled in for a fresh perspective.Al clowned it up of course.
It has been pointed out to me via email by a helpful reader that I forgot to commemorate St. Valentine's Day with a give-away, a cocktail recipe, or at least a ridiculous post. Well, to tell you the truth, that's because I am not big on celebrating it. Exchanging gifts and going out to "romantic dinners" on a prescribed day feels forced to me and I prefer to just ignore the whole frilly pink business of it. But you are right: That's no reason to deprive my readers of a give-away. So, I will offer a little something both to those who observe Valentine's Day and to those who do not.
Behind the church in Old Town is a very big, old cottonwood tree. About 10 feet up the tree is a tree bole as is common in cottonwoods. Someone had taken the time, and talent to carve a old-style catholic saint, (I guess that is what it is as I am not catholic and not into the old art that much.) I do know it is very unique.