A Photo Post for the 'Summer'

I've been pretty lax about posting on the blog lately - seems like putting up a post each month is about all I can manage.  But I was looking at some of the photos I've taken lately, and thought I could catch people up with our goings on with a few selected pictures.

Kenny seems to be enjoying his summer vacation.  For him it seems that just having the burden of school homework off his back is (almost) enough to make the whole season.  He's been doing well, and is now officially taller than I am.

He is a joker at heart, but is developing into a fine young man.  This is him posing for the camera after his school honors program.

Our vacation was kind of a washout, since I got sick a couple of days beforehand.  We did manage to fit in a little camping, and then get out for a slightly longer stay a month or so later.  It wasn't quite the experience that we were hoping for. but we tried to make the best of the situation.  Here is Diana and Kenny coming out of MacBeth's at Cooks Forest.

Diana is going to hate that I posted her picture, but she's still my sweetheart, and I love her dearly.

I love this picture (taken by Kenny)

Our time at Cooks Forest was great, even though we've been there dozens of times.  A big part of this trip was letting Kenny spend some time in the kayak on the Clarion River, so he can build some strength and confidence to allow him to continue to develop as a young whitewater kayaker.  Even though the rapids on the Clarion are small, he was grinning ear to ear as he punched through the waves.

Kenny and I at the Arroyo boat launch on the Clarion River.

We also spent some time in the woods, including a hike in the Forest Cathedral area, where the forest has never been cut.

Forest Cathedral

It was a beautiful day in the big trees.  We had the place pretty much to ourselves for almost the whole time.  With the rain we've been having this year the undergrowth was incredibly lush, and the mushrooms and other fungus were popping up everywhere.  Noting the incredible variety of fungus we tried to find an example showing each color of the rainbow.  We had them all - except blue, which didn't look like we would be able to find.  But then almost at the end...

Blue!  We found it.

Take a look at that bright orange fungus behind Diana and Kenny at the Big Trees campsite beside the Clarion River.

We saw the river otters in the Clarion again, this time right from our campsite.  But the only wildlife photo we got was this little camp robber, feasting on cheese popcorn.

Did I mention that it's rained a bunch this summer?

It seems like through June and July it rained at least every three or four days.  The wetlands are loving it - all the water has really brought them to life.

The mountain bike trails have been soft, peanut butter mud for most of the season.  I only managed 8 singletrack rides through June and July, and some of them were on trails that were borderline soft.  Even going to Moraine State Park wasn't a guarantee of good riding conditions.

Soft, but not TOO soft.

So there's been a bunch of rail trail riding for me lately.  I've spent quite a bit of time on the Western Reserve Greenway Trail, cranking out the miles in hopes that it would help me when the singletrack was finally dry.

Waterfall on Rock Creek, as seen from the Greenway.

I'm not the only one on the rail trail though. There have been a lot of people riding & walking this summer.  And the wildlife has been abundant - I've seen deer, turkeys, pheasant, a red fox, and this guy.

There's been some road riding too, but not that much - distracted drivers are WAY more dangerous than the rocks and roots on the mountain bike trails.  But some roads are a little safer than others to ride...

No Trespassing (darn it)

I've also spent some weekend time with my buddy Dave.  He doesn't get around too well anymore, so we've been checking out the accessible trails in our area.  This one at Hogback Ridge Park is a definite favorite.

I've been up to Mill Creek Park for lunch a few times since spring.  It's always a welcome break to get up to the fantastic Fellows Riverside Garden for a bit in the middle of the day.

My favorite lunch spot there is a bench that sits beneath two Dawn Redwoods.  In Ohio.  Too cool.

And then there are the photos that I've taken while just out driving around.  Most are blurry and poorly centered, but there are a couple I like. 

Humidity after the rain.

Farmland in Pennsylvania, near Moraine State Park.

I've got a thing about taking pictures of churches in decay.

One of our local fracking operations.

And one final photo - along with some philosopy - from Fellows Riverside Gardens.

Peace, y'all.

Summer so far

I keep on waiting for that ‘summer feeling’ to hit me, but it just aint happening this year.  I know the calendar says that we’re halfway through the season as of today, but that feeling just isn’t there.

 

The weather is part of the reason.  The last several years we’ve become accustomed to a slightly wet spring, followed by a dry, hot summer.  But this year we’ve only had a couple of days up in the 90’s, which happened pretty much all in one hot streak.  Most of our days have been much cooler, with many days that have had highs only in the 70’s.  And the night temperatures have been comparatively chilly, with a bunch of nights down in the lower 50’s – and even one or two in the upper 40’s!  I’m not complaining about any of this though.  Back in my youth I was pretty much heat resistant, but now I’m at the half century mark I have to admit that things have changed, and riding a bike during those 90 degree days really takes a toll on me.

The other weather issue that has been – uh, let us say OBVIOUS has been the rain.  We’ve been getting pretty significant rain events pretty much every week.  Some have been fairly minor, but then we’ve had a bunch of multi-day long hard rains.  So where I’m used to seeing brown lawns and empty creeks, this year it’s amazingly lush greenery everywhere, and water levels that are far above the usual summer lows.  But the big impact on my summer mojo has been that this regular rain has kept the dirt mountain bike trails soft for weeks at a time.  REALLY soft.  So soft that you’d have to be a mtb evil-doer to be rotten enough to go out and destroy them by riding.

So there hasn’t been much singletrack this summer.  Where I usually would be getting at least two days of dirt riding every week, this summer it’s been the norm to NOT get to ride dirt at all.  Checking my mapmyride stats shows that there were only 4 singletracks in June, and 4 in July.

I’ve made a couple of trips over to Moraine State Park in Pennsylvania – a trail system that is locally famous for the way that it holds up to rainy conditions.  And I got in good rides when I went, but with the wet weather Moraine has become the ‘go to’ trails for local riders, and all the extra traffic is starting to develop mud holes in the areas between the rocks.  And I got in a couple of rides between the rain out at West Branch, Quail Hollow, and Beaver Creek.  But the trails are just so soft that riding makes deep ruts – and that is a BIG no-no for mtbrs.

What do you do when you’re a dirt rider and the dirt is too soft?  Resign yourself to riding on the pavement of course.  I've put in way more rail trail miles this summer than I ever have before.  And as the miles have added up I've started riding further distances when I have the time.  Usually I have less than two hours of free time – so that gives me time to drive to the rail trail, ride for about 1-1/4 hours and then drive home with a distance ridden of between 12 and 18 miles.  This summer I’ve spent some longer days on the trail, and have several 35 mile days.  And I've noticed that my average speeds are getting faster, too.  So all the pavement miles have been helping boost my fitness so that when I do get on the dirt I’m feeling pretty darn good, and can ride to the best of my ability.

And here we are in August, when the dirt should be hard-baked like concrete – but instead it’s so soft that on my last singletrack ride – out at Quail Hollow this week – revealed the most EPIC (and I don’t get to use that word that often in relation to my riding) mudhole that I’ve seen on a trail.  Four feet wide and twenty feet long of nasty, grey Jello mud with no way around.  Sad.  I was hoping that the five days without rain would have been enough to soak up some of the water.

The weather forecast for the upcoming week: chance of rain today, tomorrow, Friday and Tuesday.  Damn.  Well, maybe it’ll rain enough that I can get a kayak trip in…

Hold Your Breath

Recently my 12 year old son told me that he'd like to get involved in paddling whitewater in a kayak.


His first kayak ride happened when he was about 6 months old.  He rode 'papoose' between my knees in my 15 year old Perception Caspia on a fun little ride down the Clarion River in Pennsylvania.

Over the next couple of years he got used to seeing me in my boats, and going along when Mom and he were my 'shuttle bunnies'.

Getting ready to put my Pirouette in for a run on Slippery Rock Creek.

We would travel around Ohio, Pennsylvania and West Virginia and camp - and there was almost always a kayak on top of the car.  Kenny soon learned that Daddy would try to get in a boat trip any time he could.

Me paddling past Kenny at our campsite on the E. Br. Greenbriar River, WV.

And he got the chance for quite a few more rides while he was still just a toddler.  Many times we would camp in the Allegheny National Forest and take a boat along so we could enjoy a peaceful ride on the Clarion River.

When he got a little bigger I'd take him to a creek along with a small inflatable raft.  I'd put a leash on the boat and wade downstream, letting him float along and enjoy the water.

The growing boater on South Sandy Creek, PA.

He always enjoyed these creek trips, so just before he turned 6 we got him a child sized kayak for Christmas.

He loved to sit in his boat, and spent a lot of time pretending to paddle.  But he also got to spend a good amount of time on the water, learning how to balance in a kayak.  He never paddled any real rapids, but he loved to get in the water and paddle around while I was his 'safety crew'.

More fun on the Clarion River.

But he outgrew that kayak pretty quickly, and he seemed okay with that.  We've gone on many canoe trips together, on the Clarion River, and on Ohio's Beaver Creek.  Of course on these trips he's as likely to jump out of the canoe and swim the whole distance as he is to ride in the boat.  But getting to be comfortable in the water is a good thing, and as long as he is enjoying himself then I'm happy.

Then this year he said he wanted to try paddling whitewater.  At the age of 12 he's just about the same size as I am, so he fits in my kayak just fine, as well as the life jackets and spray skirts.  So this spring we've spent some time on Slippery Rock creek at low water - learning the safety aspects of whitewater kayaking.  He's learned how to use a throw rope, and how to repack it.  We spent a good amount of time teaching him to 'wet exit' the kayak - that is how to get out of the boat when it flips over.  And after a couple of tries he gets it - no need to panic, just do what you know has to be done and you'll be fine.  We've even run a couple of easy rapids, with him in the boat and me standing by as safety.

Now he just needs to build up some more arm and upper body strength - and the way to do that is to paddle a bunch more.  We've had some trouble getting water levels that are appropriate for him, but he's done a couple more canoe trips that definitely helped out.

But I admit that I do kind of dread him running more difficult water.  Accidents happen (brother do I know that!) and I don't want them to happen to him.  So we'll go very slow in our progression, and make sure that there are never any corners cut.  Safety first - and second for that matter.  But I have a feeling that soon enough he's going to want to push it a bit and hit some real whitewater.

And I'll be right there, ready to be the 'safety crew'.

Summer Frenzy

So now we're fully entrenched in summer, despite the calendar insisting that it's still 3 weeks away.  We've had some days in the 90's, though mostly the days high temps fall a little short of that mark.  The trees are in full leaf, and the early flowers have made their show, and now patiently wait for spring to roll around again.

With the change of seasons, which is always so dramatic in the Great Lakes region, people have a chance to change their routines.  Getting away from the lazy winter hibernation and pushing into the endless opportunities that nice weather presents can be difficult - something about a body at rest tending to remain at rest...   Personally I can only let so many beautiful days go by while I sit and enjoy looking at them.  Once the trend is for warm temperatures my mind goes into overdrive, and I can come up with a dozen plans for any available free time.  And so after a long dreary winter, and then a cold and reluctant spring, I'm finally back into the kind of routine that I enjoy.

I've been spending a good amount of time riding the bike on the rail trail.  My home town has a nice straight, flat paved trail leading north, almost all the way to Lake Erie, and I've been heading out that way when my available recreation time is less than two hours.  That gives me time to get out there, ride for a smidge less than an hour and a half, and get home.  Since I ride my mountain bike I'm not setting any speed records, but an hour and twenty minutes of rail trail riding will get me about 16 to 18 miles, depending on the wind and how energetic I feel.

These trips are easy to fit in, and easy to do.  The trail is so straight and flat that the only thing that I have to keep conscious of is my cadence.  I much prefer the much more mentally demanding experience of riding a bike on singletrack, but these rail trail miles have their purpose.  After squeezing in rail trail rides whenever I could this spring, I was gratified to find that when I got back on the dirt that I was riding at (for me) top form.  So in an effort to keep that fitness level up - and burn off as many extra calories as possible - I keep returning to the paved trail.

Once or twice a week I, weather permitting, I can usually get the bike on the trails.  Unfortunately my time is almost always limited, so that I ride to fill the time available, not till I'm ready to quit.  But I'm finding that even at 50 year of age that I'm still improving as a rider.  I'm not much faster or a better climber, but my rock riding technique continues to improve.  Several times this spring I've surprised myself by successfully making tough moves that I wouldn't have even tried two years ago.  And while my breathing still is terrible, at least it seems that it hasn't gotten any worse, and I'm still able to enjoy the ride.

I've also been trying to get a little more balance in how I spend my free time.  After a couple of years where I hardly even paddled my kayaks, now I'm putting more effort into finding ways to get on the water.  I had a couple of great whitewater runs when spring was just starting to happen, including a fun run on a creek that I'd never managed to paddle before.  Plus last weekend I got out on some flat water with a buddy who had just bought his first kayak.  We paddled 8 miles on a quiet, slow river on a warm and breezy afternoon, enjoying the scenery of one of Pennsylvania's newest Water Trails, the upper Shenango River.  The new paddler had a great time, enjoying the small riffles and the long slow sweep of the river between.  It was great to get out on a quiet waterway, and rediscover the local wildlife that lives just off the beaten path.  We saw a wide range of birds while out, including an encounter with a huge bald eagle who let us get within 50 feet before flying off.

I've discovered two 'new' creeks in the area as well.  Both seem to offer whitewater in the class II-III range, but neither is listed in any guidebook or website that I can find.  So I'm watching the weather and waiting for the next big rain for my chance to do some 'exploring' in the middle of this area that's been settled for 300 years.  And we're planning a vacation for later on this month, that will involve a visit to Gettysburg for my son, some biking for me, and some relaxing in the woods for all of us.

I hope that everyone else out there is getting back into their summer routines as well.  Have fun and ride hard!

The Well Worn Trail

I've been slacking lately - not doing the work I should be doing - on several projects, this blog being one of them. I'm not sure what the reason is behind this lack of motivation, but for the time being I'm blaming it on a gloomy winter that dragged out into a reluctant spring.  And though the weather seems as if it has finally decided that spring is here I'm not quite back into the swing of things yet.  Yard work remains to be done, and my bike is in the shop having a bunch of stuff replaced, repaired, or re-adjusted.  But I'm starting to feel the caveman stirrings of the blood that are indicators of summer activity, so it seems like a good time to dust off the keyboard and update the blog.

We had a nice rain event a couple of weeks ago, one that had me watching the Accuweather precipitation total maps and the USGS real time streamflow gauges.  I managed to get in two nice whitewater kayak trips while the water was up, and had pretty much decided that I was going to write a post about paddling Wolf Creek.  But then this weekend, with my bike in the shop, I decided to go for a short hike on a familiar trail instead.  So that's today's story.

Slippery Rock Creek is NW Pennsylvania's most reliably running whitewater creek.  It's just to the east of New Castle, and about an hour's drive from my house in eastern Ohio.  The best whitewater section of the creek is in McConnells Mill State Park, where you can paddle about five miles of class II-III rapids when the water is up.  This is where I learned to paddle whitewater, and I've made literally hundreds of runs down the gorge.



Me on Slippery Rock Creek in 1999, in my old Pirouette.  Note the bike helmet...

I had thought that my weekend was pretty much scheduled full, but then I unexpectedly got a couple of hours of free time, and needed to find a quick adventure that I could fit in.  There was a light rain falling, but that wasn't a problem.  So I packed up a bit of gear and headed east into Pennsylvania.

This trail runs down the gorge alongside the creek, right alongside the best of the whitewater - "The Mile" as it's known to local paddlers.  I've hiked it dozens of times, from the downstream end back up to the parking area by the ranger station, as a finale for solo kayaking trips on the creek.  But it's been three years since I've been on The Mile, and I've only been down by the creek a few times lately, so it seemed like a good idea to revisit this beautiful spot.

I parked up at the Point parking area, and hiked down the stairs into the gorge.  The highest points on the surrounding ridge are more than 400 feet above the creek, so there can be a bit of up and down if you're hiking in this area.



 

 

Once down by the creek I can see that it's at a nice juicy level, high enough that a paddle down would be a serious blast.  There had been a big rain early in  the week, and I knew that the water would likely be high, but it's still nice to see the rocks covered and hear the muted roar of whitewater echoing from downstream.  The rain and warm weather have been good to the forest too, and its beginning to show signs of spring.  The wildflowers are starting to bloom, and the trees are showing buds.  Everything seems a bit greener and the smell of wet earth fills the air.

 

 





 

 

The way is open and obvious, but not necessarily easy.  With the steep gorge walls squeezing the creek, the trail sometimes has to climb up quite a ways to find a path downstream.  The boulders that constrict the creek and create the whitewater also litter the banks, so that the trail involves a good deal of scrambling up and over.  It's one of those trails where you have to watch your footing the whole time, lest you catch a toe and tumble down the banks to end up in the water.  Yet despite the hazard it is an overwhelmingly beautiful place.  The hemlocks that line the creek give a dark, majestic presence to the narrow gorge, standing tall over grey lichen-encrusted boulders lining the perpetual movement of the creek.  Silent wildflowers grow among niches where wild bird songs compete with the drip of water down sheer rockfaces.  This is a special place, and I'm lucky to know that it's here.

 



 

 

Midway along the trail you come to McConnells Mill, a restored grist mill powered by the waters of the creek.  Here the water pools up behind a dam, and boaters must get out of the creek and portage around to the rapids below. 

 

 

 

 Looking over the creek from the observation deck I see a Great Blue Heron fishing in the water below the dam.  I've seen several people fishing along the creek already, as well as a pair of kingfishers, but the heron seems to be oblivious to everything else but the water.

 

 

 

As I hike down the trail I scout each rapid - a habit left over from the days when I paddled every weekend.  Some of the rapids seem very familiar, and I can easily remember the line needed to make it through smoothly.  Other rapids seem almost unfamiliar, and I study them trying to remember the approach, the move, and the exit.  Funny how something that once seemed as familiar as my own signature can gain distance over a couple of years.  As I hike along I promise myself that I'll get my boat back on the Slip this summer, when the water is nice and low, and re-establish my connection with the creek.  I've truly enjoyed the last five years of mountain biking, but I find that I'm missing whitewater more and more.

 



 

 

The hike takes an hour and a half to cover just over three miles.  The rain had stopped somewhere along the line, but I'm still soaking wet with sweat as I climb up the stairs back to the car.  Back in the day I used to run this trail from the take-out back to the Mill, carrying a paddle in one hand and wearing a life jacket.  Hell, I even carried my 50 pound boat the whole distance before.  Just goes to show that time goes on, despite our best efforts to ignore it.

 

It's going to be a great summer. I can't wait.

Holding my Breath

Well, I've hit a temporary road block in my writing project so I thought I'd try to get the magic word-juice flowing again by putting together a blog post update.  It was unsettling to find that I really didn't know what to write - usually words practically run out of my fingers, but this time I couldn't even think of a topic.  So what I'm doing is an unplanned, non-topical, let-it-flow type post to try to help me figure out what the hell the problem is.

Winter, such as it is in these days of a warming planet, has been particularly grueling for one who's accustomed to spending a sizable amount of time outdoors.  It's not that we've had a lot of snow, or even a little snow for a long time.  The problem is the constant freeze/thaw as the season struggles to find it's identity.

The ground took a long time to freeze this year.  Even after the first substantial snowfall the ground beneath was soft and wet.  That means no mountain biking, since the dirt was taking ruts through the snow.  And before it could freeze solid the temps climbed, the snow melted, and the mud deepened.  This has been the pattern for most of the winter.  I think I've managed to get in three or four winter mtb rides this year - which is definitely not enough.

The other side of the coin (or maybe a different facet of the same side) is that there hasn't been any real snow accumulation - once again because of the constant passing of the freeze/thaw line.  A couple of inches of snow will fall, and then the temps climb and it melts.  And then another inch or two of snow will fall, and the whole thing starts again.  So the big flush of water into the creeks that happens when eight to twelve inches of snow melts hasn't happened this season - and that means that there hasn't been enough water to bring those favorite hidden creeks up to a decent level to kayak.

To summarize: not enough cold or warm to mountain bike, and not enough snow melt to kayak.  Sucks.

We did have an interesting high water event about ten days ago.  There was a bit of snow on the ground, then the temps came up and it rained - which melted all the snow and pumped up the waterways quite a bit.  I watched the USGS water gauges climb to a potentially fun level, but didn't even consider taking a half-day off to chase water.  Why?  Because after missing out on the flu earlier in the year I'd managed to get a lovely head cold, which has now worked it's way down into a respiratory infection.  So instead of enjoying the best paddling opportunity of the winter I'm sitting around sounding like I'm breathing through a milkshake.  I've been pretty lucky lately in avoiding these respiratory issues, but this one is starting to worry me.  The first bout of antibiotics appears to have been overmatched by the petri dish of germs that is my lungs, and I'm on the verge of getting another doctor appointment to see if I can get something stronger.  The next stop is usually a stay in the hospital, and I definitely DO NOT WANT THAT.

Perhaps the reason I'm not able to write is that I'm just in a winter funk. Not able to get out and have fun (though I have been to some interesting trail work days), not feeling well, tired of the dark, not happy about turning 50, etc.  Usually my mood gets a boost at the passing of the shortest day of the year at the winter solstice, but this time it didn't seem to do the trick.  Perhaps next weekend, when daylight savings time gives me back another hour of daylight after work I'll feel better.  We'll see...

One thing I can say is that after sitting here and forcing myself to write this at least I find that the words are starting to flow a little easier.  Maybe I should just sit down with my 'writing project' and force myself to put some words down.  If it doesn't seem to be any good I can just delete it, but maybe I'll get something worth keeping.

Here's hoping things improve in the next couple of weeks.

Photos and Progress

So Blogspot/Blogger/whatever fixed their photo posting problem, which means that I can put a few of my recent pics up.  That does two things: it lets me put up a post, and it lets me do it without spending a lot of time writing.

And I don't want to spend extra time writing because I'm currently funneling my creative powers into writing a short story/long story/novelette/whatever.  Don't know how long it will be, how good it will be, or how long it will take.  But when I finish it I'll post it on this very blog for the whole world to see (all you Ukrainians ready??!?)

Fog and snow at Beaver Creek

 

Self portrait in headlight, with my son and nephew.

 

Frost & fog at Lake Milton dam.

Vertical sunrise over the interstate.

Tree on foggy shore.

Fog, snow and sun over new singletrack at Beaver Creek.  This has to be one of the best photos I've ever taken.

 

One other thing, for those of you who ride bikes and are interested in reading about adventure: check out this guys expedition across the real wilderness of northern Canada.  Quite an amazing story.

http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?o=1&doc_id=8865&v=jg