Category Archives: friends

Bacon?

Realising how exhausted & lethargic I was from my time in NYC, it was great to be going away for a long weekend up in the Poconos to do be doing very little. So Thursday morning we managed to get organised & packed up & left for the hour an a half of driving approximately north. Driving around Pennsylvania is a lot different to out west – there aren’t as many of the big 8-10 lanes on each side freeways, but rather a lot of smaller dual carriageways that connect all sorts of places to each other. Stopped for gas (it seems to be coming down – less than $2.40 for a gallon) & made it to Stoddardsville for a late lunch. Unfortunately the kids weren’t too appreciative of the change in routinue – as we were continually reminded over the next two days. Stoddardsville is quite the has-been town. It is on the Lehigh River & back at the start of the nineteenth century it was expanded by a guy called Stoddard & was quite the little boomtown – awaiting a canal that was to have been built up to the town. Of course, the canal never quite made it & the so the town never made it & Stoddard went bankrupt. All the infrastructure was pretty much left & there are a few ruins of the mill & other buildings lying around. Now there are ten or so houses on either side of the river which are mostly just used in the summer. Our tie to the place is that Jessica’s grandparents used to live in the old mill house & Jessica spent a fair bit of time during her childhood here. After her grandmother’s death the house ended up in the hands of a local guy who has worked hard at preserving the local history.

Pulling up to the house it was obviously quite old (never did find out exactly how old – greater than a hundred years) & it had sprawling grounds down to the river with some great big trees around.

Apparently it was built before studs were common practice & so the walls are solid walls of up to eighteen boards of wood – it would explain why the lighting in the house was so poor – retro-fitted wiring must have been a nightmare. The floors were wonderfully unlevel; the basement was what I have come to expect from Bill Bryson’s stories – dark, damp, low-ceilinged, with an ominous looking furnace & fuel oil tanks; the furniture was old; a warren of rooms upstairs; a large attic further up. Adding to the old setting, the place had been turned in to a mini-museum by John Butler (the only guy I’ve ever been introduced to as “Commander” [ret.]) – the guy who is preserving Stoddardsville, with old photos & captions, newspaper clippings, models of ships & submarines, letters (some from George Washington) to do with the settling of the area, the Wyoming Massacre, the Revolutionary War, WW2 & all sorts. It was like staying my own Night at the Museum. As we had climbed a bit from home, the temperature was about ten degrees cooler & pleasantly, the humidity had dropped right off from home. Apart from the kids, it was very peaceful & I found a Patricia Cornwall paperback lying around & probably spent the rest of the afternoon napping & reading. Popped down to river that evening for Doug to see if he could hook a fish & Katarina to throw stones in.

After a nice lie in Friday, Doug & I loaded up our bikes & drove twenty minutes to a state forest to see if we could find somewhere to ride. We had some luck in finding a place to park & then we followed a gravel road up & into the woods. It was quite nice to be out riding in the woods & not really caring where we were going. On the way back we wandered down an emergency access road in between high-fenced deer exclusion zones & suddently came out in a clearing & found a hunting lodge in the middle of nowhere – not really what we were expecting. After returning for lunch, it was out again for another ride – this time with Jessica in to the nearest town (a few miles uphill) to post mail, check voicemail & most importantly, get some donuts. By dinner that night, the kids still hadn’t settled at all, so we had to open another bottle of wine to help us through. It quietened down a bit when everyone else went on a nice settling drive & I stayed behind to do the dishes & read.

Saturday morning, we all loaded up to go to a couple of markets in town – the first mostly run by Amish. They had a lot of home grown fruit, vegetable, meat, cakes & so on. Their wooden furniture was very solid & well constructed – & very comfortable. I didn’t think any of it would fit in my luggage, so wasn’t really tempted to haul a very fancy gazebo to London. The second market was just plain strange – it was mostly just a whole heap of junk. Similar really to the exhibit at the MOMA, except these people seemed to expect people to pay money for their rubbish. At least I know where to go if I ever want scores of cassette tapes, VHS tapes, Master System II, Nintendo 64 or Atari games. Back for lunch & put the kids down for naps.

That afternoon, family friends of the Lindes turned up to stay for the night. Scott grew up with Doug & now works on the golf course Doug grew up on – Scott’s family is his wife Lisa, & two boys Noah & Deacon (older than Katarina) & daughter Gracie (two in October). Katarina seemed to quite like Deacon & followed him around a fair bit & generally settled down a lot. It was quite different having noisy, active & adventurous boys around. A lot more time down at the river throwing stones, fishing, climbing rocks, swinging, letting off fireworks & making & devouring Smores (roasting marshmallows, & sandwiching them between biscuits & Hersheys). Also treated to perhaps the loosest interpretation of a haka I have ever seen & an amusing attempt at charades by the boys. And somewhere in all of that, I finished my book – it was OK, but a pretty weak ending – I hate it when someone gets the main character out of a bind with the psychopath & the author doesn’t have the decency to explain why they were even there. Still it was nice to be reading a book again.

Sunday was pack up & clean morning, with a bit of time down at the waterfall & river. I don’t remember much else of Sunday – except I had my first Philly cheesesteak – it was good & Doug & I went for a good workout ride around Doylestown after dinner. Monday Jessica & the kids & I brought home a big pile of books from the library – I’ve already finished a good Harry Bosch one. In the afternoon Doug & I went out to the golf course he grew up on (Scott is the greenskeeper there now) & did some measurements on a couple of the greens, before we were off to Limeport Stadium to watch a ballgame. Doug used to play for these Dodgers & it was neat to be at a local level game & try & understand baseball a bit more (there’s not too much to it & I’ve seen a few major league games on TV). There was a good sized crowd in & the game started with a hiss & a roar after the Star-spangled Banner played & our pitcher had a shocking first innings. The vistors were up by four runs straight away & I thought it was going to be quite exciting – alas, there was only one more run in the next thirteen innings & our team was held to love (to borrow a tennis term). A cool night watching the game, even if it wasn’t the most interesting, & trying to explain cricket to a few people – they seemed to get some idea.

It’s raining today, so I’ve mostly been reading & trying not to think about packing to go back to San Diego tomorrow for one night & appearing in front of a judge. From San Diego I’m off to DC for five nights.

Golf anyone?

A lazy start to the day yesterday – for some reason, I’m sleeping a lot, which is quite nice in some ways, but a slight waste in others. Jessica & the kids & I ran a couple of errands in town (the smallest Post Office I’ve ever seen at the college Doug teaches at & bought my bus tickets to NYC – less than forty dollars return, bargain) & then headed out to Lake Galena. Galena is a small lake not from town & there were plenty of kids out learning to sail very small yachts with varying degrees of success, many people making use of the path that goes all around the lake – we took a short stroll down to a rather rickety pier & looked at the ducks (not my normal sightseeing, but Katarina seemed to enjoy it & I got my fingers almost pulled off – a small price to pay for not having to rescue a two year old from the lake). Current favourite sayings are “watchoo doin?” and “huh?” repeated frequently; this is an improvement over the first day or two’s shyness.

Mid-afternoon, Doug & I headed off half an hour north to the 2009 US Women’s Open. Doug is a professor in turf management (from what I can work out, mostly on golf courses) & as a result he & a lot of his students & graduates have volunteered for the week working on the grounds (mowing, rolling, watering, replacing divots, grooming & so on). It was the last practice day before the four day tournament starts on Thursday. While Doug went off to a meeting I wandered around a few holes on the front nine, checked out the practice green & driving range. There was plenty to look at & it was intriguing to see all the things that go on behind the scenes at a major that are not seen on the television. I’m pretty sure I have never seen so many golf carts (at least a few hundred) in one day. I met up with Doug on the back nine – our (his, really) job was to follow the last players around & remove the tee markers & flags. It was a pretty easy job – we cruised around in a cart pulling markers & flags occasionally & spent the rest of the time taking photos, chatting to groundsmen & climbing camera towers (not sure if that was allowed – one was particularly tall & seemed rather rickety). A good afternoon doing something quite different to what I usually do on holiday. Doug has just headed out for the first day’s play.

Arriving home from the golf, my package of bike goodies had arrived. My bike is now usuable with a new chain on it & new grips & my new shoes fit well. Still need to get my brakes sorted (probably bled) & I’d like to clean & grease the freewheel. I think I might just roll in to town & have a little explore.

Up early for a ride

Somehow managed to wake up to hear the clock chiming five & suddenly remembered that I was to get up in five minutes for a big ride. Stumbled around the house – being the longest day, it was nice & light – getting ready & managed to force an extra piece of toast down & I was on the road before six. Met up at Chip’s house & we loaded our bikes on to the borrowed old Volvo (it has racks). Annoyingly burnt my tongue on the liquorice tea, & we arrived at the trail head (down the I8 again, towards where I rode at Big Laguna last week) fifteen minutes early & waited for the others to arrive. In the end, there were seven of us – me the youngest (easily having less than half the years accumulated as the most senior), a couple of guys on singlespeeds – one a very nice custom titanium 29er.

Started off at 8.00 & it was a little chilly as we cruised along some singletrack not too far from the road. After a while we started to climb a little & I was impressed to see the singlespeeds leading the way – usually the case, I remember having to just go at hills & not being able to cruise. Found a big rock for first rest stop.

The whole area we were riding in was destroyed by wildfires in 2003, so there weren’t a lot of sizeable trees around, but the scrub has had a few years to regenerate. It’s a bit of a blur, but we did a lot of climbing (middle-ring the whole way for me, so not too difficult) on some nice singletrack – quite dusty, but otherwise fine.

I think we started at about 3000 ft & eventually we crossed the Sunrise Highway (~5000 ft) & continued climbing on the singletrack. Stopped a couple of times for a rest & for the tourist to take photos:

By now we were looking out towards the edge of the desert (further north of the one we drove through to go camping last week).

Some of us felt that we should leave the Perfect Cycling Trail & hike-a-bike up to the road. Unfortunately, this was twenty minutes of clambering, pushing, carrying through scrub getting very scratched legs. Probably the hardest part of the day for & somewhat draining. We rode up the Sunrise Highway for a few miles, down a bit & back on to singletrack. What followed was pure bliss – we must have had two or three miles of downhill & it started out nice & dusty (of course) & twisty & then proceeded to get rockier & rockier – it was great fun barrelling down there. The closest I came to riding off the side of the hill was looking up & seeing Billy two or three hundred yards down the trail & trying to work out if I could catch him. I put my head down after that & concentrated on staying on the trail a bit more – the rocks got bigger & combined in some nice chutes, where having suspension soak up the occasional poor line was comforting. Pleasingly, I managed to catch Billy right at the end of the downhill & we sat & waited under a tree for the others to turn up. Those few miles were fantastic & the riding (& perhaps, the) highlight of my trip so far.

Having regrouped & rested we begun the climb out of the valley on singletrack & eventually were riding up & down a meadow. The dust turned quite slippery here – I’m used to dry surfaces being grippy in NZ, but here I’d hit a switchback too fast (as it turned out) & my front wheel would just slide as if on slippery clay – I managed to turn front wheel inside out once or twice, but somehow stayed upright. One final rest stop before we hit the fire road down all the way to the car – it was quick. I’m still not a big fan of the High Rollers, there were quite a few instances during the day when I think the Nevegals would have helped me out a lot more. First puncture of the day for Cliff about ten minutes from the cars; once that was repaired we easily finished the six hour epic – 27 miles all up. That was about the limit of my endurance, up the last little rise (which was nothing compared to what we had already done) I found myself chopping back to easier gears & struggling up the hill. Got home & realised I was covered in dust – a great glove mark:

& it was just as well I didn’t get talked in to having a pedicure the day before – this is through MTB shoes & socks.

Big nap & watched Master & Commander – as I had been on the HMS Surprise a couple of days before. Must pack & plan & organise a few things (rather, everything) for my road trip today.

A camping expedition with a boat

The title should have been “A boating expedition with camping”, but due to the unfortunate circumstances of this week it is the opposite. Boat hitched up to the van, Chris & I left first for Squaw Lake on the Colorado River. It was east on Interstate 8, climbing over four thousand feet from San Diego & then down in to the desert. To say the hills were rocky was bit of an understatement:

Of course, at over ninety degrees (I’m slowly learning to think American) & with no AC & the sun it started to get reasonably warm in the van. The desert was as you would expect a desert to be, but still interesting so far. I was surprised to find the All-American Canal supplies irrigation & drinking water to much of the area we drove through (part of Imperial County) & it is the largest irrigation canal in the world – there was an awful lot of crops growing & some huge lines ups of various baled hay & grass. Also of note on the long straight drive was the intermittent sightings of the US/Mexican border & the Border Patrol vehicles careening around the desert. In to Yuma (only of note to me due to the film “3.10 to Yuma” that I think I saw on a plane somewhere) to gas up the van & boat. Through the back blocks to the Imperial Dam & the turn off to Squaw Lake (really a bit on the side of the Colorado River) & the campsite – the rest of the family arrived within half an hour of us. Funnily enough, camping in the desert is rather different to the camping I was used to – rocky, hot brown.

Putting the boat in we were frustrated to find that it didn’t go – after exhausting the jumpstart packs, Eliot moving batteries from car to boat, boat to car, van to boat & boat to van & pulling the battery shield off, we found that the workshop had not earthed the battery correctly – nuts. We would have to wait for a new battery from Yuma tomorrow to give it another go. Still there were tents to put up (we managed some sort of grass by a couple of palms) & dinner to have (poor Andrea still on the soup diet throughout the weekend due to the teeth situation). Eliot got a great fire going & then it was off to bed – I didn’t sleep well, probably due to the heat & small tent.

Chris & Beverley went in to town to get supplies & a new battery. The boat started first time after the new battery was installed, so we loaded up & prepared for a day on the river. Predictably, the boat didn’t start second, third, fourth or any time (we may have worn the starter out the day before) so we spent most of the morning anchored about fifty feet from our campsite lounging in the sun, playing on tubes & getting thrown in the water. With the boat u/s, Eliot & Andrea took off back to San Diego & the rest of us went on a bit of a drive to Arizona (just across the river). Passed the military’s rather large Yuma Proving Ground (a big testing range – one of the biggest in the world), stopped for ice cream at some swanky riverside village (a lot of RVs, condos all in the middle of nowhere), found another settlement & looked down on where we should have been playing on the water.

Upon our return we took a walk up one of the hills behind our campsite – it wasn’t too big & all the rocks reminded me a bit of the Tongariro Crossing. As it was dusk, the light was pretty cool:

Here is our campsite – our tent is below the right had tip of the small island.

Another scrumptious camp dinner & some strange story-telling rotation around the campfire (mine was at its usual woeful standard) & it was off to bed. With the whole tent to myself & it being a bit cooler I slept much better & did not wake to the brilliant sunshine until 6.30. With not much else to do we packed up early, loaded up the boat & paddled it back to the ramp – we must have looked quite strange amongst all the ski boats, party boats & jet skis going out. With out the thrust of the boat’s engine, we struggled to get it to sit on the front of the trailer (the full tank of gas didn’t really help much). After much adjustments we were on our way. Of course, with in five minute of leaving we were on the side of the road dealing to this a blow out on the boat trailer. That was dealt with without a problem & we were on the road yet again. Back through the same desert & the boat rocking around on the trailer soon had me dozing off. After lunch just past El Centro, I was awake again & looking forward to the change in scenery climbing the hills.

Unfortunately, in the heat the van didn’t much like towing a boat from sea level to over four thousand feet. As the engine climbed in temperature & started steaming we pulled over at one of the conveniently placed radiator water troughs on the side of the I-8 & topped up the radiator. The temperature dropped, but we didn’t quite make it to the top. Not surprising really after all that had happened in the previous few days. So Chris & I were stuck on the side of the interstate that a van that didn’t go without making some awful noises & a boat that didn’t start. But I did get a ride in a towtruck to Jacumba & we waited for Andrea to come out with the pickup to tow the boat home. The van is still up in the Sierras somewhere with a cracked radiator. I think we finally made it home at 6pm. An eventful, but enjoyable camping trip.