Remembering...

My sister Teresa and my Mother. March 11, ...


February 15, .. - My Mother, Virginia Phend Wiseman, died less than two months after being diagnosed with colon cancer. She was 82 years old and has left a void that will never be filled.



February 15, .. – My Nephew Joseph's son, Logan Jeremiah Lynn Wiseman, was born. He lived only a few hours before departing this world. His loss is still felt.



February 18th, .. my sister, Teresa Jane Wiseman Ratcliff Plybon, passed away. She was 53 years old.



February 17th, .. my gentle-souled uncle, Robert Glen Reiff died at the age of 75.



Yeah, February is a tough month to get through.... Remembering the good times helps. A little.








Christmas 1978 with the Grandkids.







May 1978 at Knapp Lake.

National Key Deer Refuge

There are some endangered animals in the Keys, and the key deer are some of those animals. The key deer only live in the Keys in fact.



There is a refuge here for them. They also limit the speed that you can drive in an attempt to keep them safe. There are only around 800 of the deer. Around 100 were killed by cars last year. So what is so unique about these deer?



Their size! They are on average two to three feet tall when fully grown. They look just like the deer in Virginia, just smaller.



I think they are beautiful!





We drove around the island and enjoyed the sights and sounds beyond the deer.









And now we are hanging out. Austin is working on our yearly Gingerbread House. Every year he says he is not doing a gingerbread house because he is too old. And every year, he jumps in and wants to do the whole thing alone. He is quite the pro at it by now. You can also see our Christmas tree in this picture:



It is about the size of the key deer here! So cute!



Living the life in the Florida Keys!

Within My Grasp, Yet Out of Reach: the Evasive Century Ride

Once a cyclist begins to ride longer distances, it is inevitable that they will hear the siren call of the Century - the 100 mile ride. While 100 miles is as arbitrary a number as any, it has an undeniable cachet to it. It is a three digit number, a round number, and impressive number. Put simply, 100 miles is unambiguously "a lot." It is often considered a marker of seriousness when it comes to long-distance cycling.



Although I never set it as a goal for myself to complete a century, to tell the truth I thought that surely I would have done it by now. Distances of 30, 40 and 50 miles were so easy for me almost from the start, that I assumed 100 miles would inevitably follow. However, it is now my 3rd summer of cycling and somehow I still have not managed it - 65 miles being the longest distance I've covered so far in one go. One obstacle has been lack of time. As someone who gets annoyed when others tell me they don't have time to cycle, I can't believe I am using the same excuse. So maybe I should rephrase: My time management skills have been inadequate. I try to set a day aside for a century ride, but something inevitably comes up to make it impossible. Shorter rides are easier in that sense, because they do not require taking an entire day off. The other obstacle has been finding places to ride to. While the countryside outside Boston offers excellent cycling, I am having a hard time mapping out routes that exceed 65 miles and are still within my comfort zone when it comes to car traffic and elevation changes. And doing repeat loops just to cycle 100 miles is not appealing.



While on Cape Cod last summer, I thought that surely a century would finally be completed. Our plan was to gradually work up to it, but in the end we did it too gradually: Just after the 65 mile ride I got sick, and by the time I felt better it was time to go home. This summer, the inability to reach the 100 mile mark is becoming almost comical. Now that we are on Cape Ann - with both the time to do it and the perfect location - weather and other factors have intervened to foil our plans repeatedly. 50 miles along the coast has been the longest we have managed so far, and with half our stay over and more storms predicted for this week, it's possible that a century is simply not in the cards during this trip either.



It is becoming clear that, while I am accustomed to fitting rides into my life "organically," the century may necessitate a different approach. If I am serious, then I will need more careful planning, stronger determination, and a willingness to do it in poor weather conditions or along a route that I am not entirely comfortable with. But frankly, that just doesn't seem like much fun. When I finally find the time to do a 100 mile ride on my terms, it will be fantastic. But to approach it as a grimly goal-oriented undertaking for the sake of saying that I've done a century would defeat the purpose. As far as endurance goes, I am fairly confident that I can handle the mileage, so it's just a matter of an opportune situation presenting itself. I am sure someday it will.

Frames of Mind: Why Did We Not Cycle?

There has been a great deal of talk about therecent English study that urges policy makers to ignore the views of experienced cyclists and bicycle activists when designing infrastructure, and to focus instead on the views of those who don't cycle. The idea is that answering the question "Why don't they?" will provide greater insight into what is needed for the majority of the population to find bicycling appealing.



I tend to agree with this premise. As cyclists in a non-cycling culture become more experienced, it is only natural that they undergo a shift in perspective. Situations that used to feel awkward, difficult or dangerous to them (and still do to the majority of the population!) no longer feel that way; they can no longer place themselves in their former frames of mind. By no means immune to this effect, I too no longer see cycling in the same light as I did a mere two and a half years ago. But I've been trying to think back and remember my attitudes from the time when I didn't ride. Why didn't I?



Probably the major reason was a failure of imagination on my part: I did not understand how bicyclists could safely share space with other road users. Seriously, I could not imagine it. The difference in speed was drastic. It was confusing that sometimes there were bike lanes and sometimes there weren't. What about merging? What about intersections? It all seemed downright absurd. I tried to watch other cyclists on the roads, but that was not reassuring in the least. They weaved around cars. They sometimes obeyed traffic laws and other times did not. All I saw was chaos. And I witnessed many close calls between cyclists and motorists, which only intensified my skepticism that cycling was in any way safe or normal. It was not until I discovered the world of friendly bicycle blogs - some of which practically spelled out in encouraging baby talk how to ride a bike on the street - that it began to (slowly) make sense. And if you're thinking that I must just be exceptionally dumb, be assured that most non-cyclists I speak to express the very same lack of comprehension I recall in myself. "You ride your bike right on the street? But how?..." I explain it step by step, but they are skeptical. The very notion of bicycles sharing the road with cars is too much to swallow for the general population, and I think many of us have lost touch with that.



The other aspect of my former mindset is somewhat difficult to admit, but here it goes: I found the vast majority of cyclists I came in contact with unappealing. And no, I don't mean just the ones in lycra. If anything, it was obvious that those were of the racing variety and simply had nothing to do with me. What I mean is that I found the attitudes of the self-identified "transportation cyclists" I happened to meet over the years unappealing. Many of the ones I came into contact with struck me as cantankerous, self-righeous, dogmatic and overall tedious. Maybe it was just bad luck that I happened to meet those particular people. But an impression formed in my mind of what being a "cyclist" in the USA entailed, and it was a negative impression. As a college undergrad, I remember this student who would always arrive late to my favourite seminar, interrupting the professor mid-sentence with the banging of the door and chairs. She would remove her bicycle helmet revealing sweaty hair, then plop it down loudly on the table. "Had to lock up my bike!" she'd announce triumphantly, as if this not only excused the lateness but also made her superior to those who did not share this tremendous responsibility. She would then sit down, produce a jar of peanut butter from her backpack and proceed to eat out of it with a spoon for the duration of the seminar - waving said spoon around when participating in group discussion. That image more or less sums up how I perceived "cyclists" until several years ago.



But my alienation from cycling would not have been complete without the occasional visits to bike stores - which, until two or three years ago, had nothing to offer but roadbikes and mountain bikes. I would walk in, optimistic, and walk out convinced that a bicycle I felt comfortable enough to ride did not exist on the market. It is amazing to think that in a relatively short amount of time, the selection of bicycles has changed so dramatically - but still, only in some parts of the country, and only in select bicycle shops. It is also amazing to think how much influence the bicycle industry's output has on the typesof cycling people believe are accessible to them. Before the category of "city bike" was finally created for the North American market, the concept did not exist here as far as salespeople in bicycle shops were concerned. And, consequently, would-be consumers such as myself did not think it existed either.



For those of us who began riding bikes for transportation in adulthood and have since changed our views of what that entails, I think it's beneficial to try and remember our former attitudes. What were our reasons for not cycling before? What were our concerns, fears, misconceptions? What was difficult to understand and what was easy? And how did we feel about other cyclists? Do you remember this about yourself? And finally, do you agree with the idea that the feedback of timid would-be cyclists is more informative for infrastructure decisions than that of experienced cyclists and advocates?

Good Day Sunshine

One of the things I love most about Florida is the sun. We are settling into our "winter" routine and enjoying being here again. I am really loving all of the sunshine after being in cloudy and rainy weather.





It was a bit cold today though. Not too cold to wear shorts while playing pickle ball and hiking by the river. But cold enough that at dusk, I could see my breath in the air. We built a campfire to keep us warm and at some point it was still too cold to be outside. I'm not complaining though. As long as the sun shines and I can be outside, I'm a happy girl.

Crex Meadows Wildlife Area

After our bike ride on the Cannon Valley Trail earlier this week, we headed to Crex Meadows WildlifeArea in Grantsburg, Wisconsin.In thefirst two photos shown here Jessica is looking for Sandhill Cranes in the fog during the first light of the day. We could hearalot of cranesin the distance but couldn't see them at first because the fog was so thick.













Eventuallly the fog started to clear enough that we were able to start seeing some of the cranes.








Loved this view through the fog of a group of cranes standing on a mud flat.








For about 10 minutes the clouds and fog cleared enough that a bit of sunlight came through and gave us some really cool light. Once the sky cleared a little, the cranes started to take flight.














Sandhill Cranes in the early morning light, diffused by thick fog.








There were several thousand cranes at the refuge, this view along Main Dike Road was where we saw most of them.








These three cranes were walking with purpose across this flowage.








Cranes in flight... love the subtle yet beautiful variation in color on their wings!








We enjoyed a breakfast snack at the "Rest Area" along North Refuge Road. The rest area was surrounded by beautiful oak trees, and looked out over a vast field which included a pond complete with a beaver lodge along the edge of the pond. Every now and then a few cranes would call as they flew overhead. It was a little slice of heaven for us :-)

Camp Muir - Trash, Construction Debris and Poor Weather

Watch out for rockfall between Camp Muir and Ingraham Flats! Lately, the weather has been less than ideal... I.e. rain, wind, clouds, rain, wind, clouds, rain, wind, clouds... Yuck, and more is expected for the next few days...

Things are bumping along without a lot of fanfare. We made it through the past weekend without any major incidents, though some Colorado climbers did find themselves quite cold on the Muir Snowfield. The team of 6 split up while hiking to Muir, leaving 2 behind for a ranger to meet them with hot water and words of encouragement. In the end, the NPS helped them make it to Muir, but I'm still not sure why the other 4 in the party couldn't do the same?

Camp Muir is drawing more attention lately. Like Glacier Basin, rangers have been finding trash and garbage in the public shelter (left by climbers/day hikers) which (of course) is not cool. On the flip-side, climbers and day hikers have been regularly noting the pile of debris outside the public bathroom. That pile is part of the ongoing construction/restoration project from 2005. We hope to see the contractor complete the project and remove the debris later this summer. In the meantime, watch where you step because some folks have been picking up nails in their boots and shoes.

As a reminder, you can fill-out your climbing registration card before you come to the park. Save time by doing this.