The Frankenbike

Wes' first mountain bike is still going strong. He bought a Trek 6700 at Route 66 Bikes in 2002. Like everyone does with their first mountain bike, he started swapping parts not too long after he bought it. I'm sure the rear derailluer was one of the first things, and saddle. Bars and stem not to long after that.

By 2005, the summer after I graduated from Carolina, this is what it looked like (V2):




New bars, stem, saddle, fork, derailleurs, crank, BB....


All of that stuff eventually came off, on went a SS wheel with an ENO hub and Voila! - Version 3. It was Wes' second SS. One week before Wes raced the Ouachita Challenge for the first time, he thought it would be a good idea to swap the suspension fork for a rigid 26er fork. Hmmmm. I won't say who thought that was not a good idea, or who eventually agreed. Whatevs.



At some point that year, I think I gave my Redline SS to my sister, I got the Frankenbike, and Wes bought a Karate Monkey. It was light, fast, and fun. A good reprieve from the road bike at times. It was harsh!



Eventually, I wanted something a little less harsh on the front end, but didn't want a boingy fork, so we opted for a 26er carbon Pace fork (suspension corrected) with a Bontrager RXL wheel and a mechanical disk brake. Version 3 was fast, but Version 4 was a rocket ship. And LIGHT!



I could make this bike go pretty fast, but not for super long distances. Wes and I joke that the aluminum frame feels like you are hitting a rigid pole with an aluminum baseball bat. I eventually got another bike, and Wes another... And eventually we stopped riding it a whole lot. I would take it out when I wanted a little extra workout, or when I just felt like riding something connected to the trail a little more.

Version 5 is definitely connected to the trail.



Can't tell a difference between Versions 4-5? Look closer.



We fixed it! Wes is on vacay right now and my work schedule is very flexbile, so we are up for daily adventures. We've been talking about retiring the Frankenbike for awhile and it's not too far off. But this was a fun way to reinvent the bike for snow riding.

We put a 16 tooth cog on the rear, but I think you could run a 15 pretty comfortably. We went to Rock Bridge. I had to beg Wes to let me ride it. It took awhile, but eventually he gave in. Rocketship x2 on the uphills, not as much on the downhills. We are both getting used to cornering and riding the technical bits. It'll come. I pretty much had a s**t-eating grin on my face the whole time I rode it.

Yep. Pretty fun.

Scout aka Mr. Man (2008-2010)

We had to put Scout down a few weeks ago. He came home one day after about 36 hours of being away from home. He had a bad limp - but the thing that really freaked me out was that his tail wasn't moving, responding to anything. I knew he was not good, so I confined him to his sick room (sad that he had one) and cuddled with him for awhile. I witnessed him climb into his litterbox and have nothing happen at least six times. He was eating and drinking, so I knew this was not good. Later in the day he started leaking some fluid, quite a bit darker than urine. He wouldn't climb into his usual spot in the room, so I spread some blankets for him on the floor. He did not look comfortable.



We knew he had to go to the vet - we considered the Emergency services at the vet school, but it was $125 just to see the doctor! We said no thanks, we would rather see our rockstar, Dr. Reisdorf, who can squeeze us in whenever we need.

Wes was able to come to our appointment - which I am incredibly thankful for. I could not have been there by myself. On the way to vet, Scout leaked more fluid, very bloody urine in his carrier. He was really lethargic and calm, which is unusual for his trips to the vet. It was like he knew.

Dr. Reisdorf concluded that he had some sort of trauma to the spine where his tail connects to his body. He had NO feeling in the tail. None. Nerve damage of that sort can cause problems with bladder and bowel function. His bladder was on the verge of rupture... he leaked more blood during his exam. Scout needed emergency surgery just to save his life. The bladder needed to be drained and held open. His tail needed to be amputated. The bladder fix was temporary - there was no guarantee that it would function normally. Dr. Reisdorf had never seen a cat with these injuries.

I found Scout at Pride Park. I came for practice one day, and the girls were playing with a cat they had lured out of a tree in the parking lot. We had the worst practice ever that day. Scout was so excited to play soccer that he would claw his way out of my arms and jump free onto the field to chase the ball. Play would stop as someone scooped him out of harms way. And then we would start over. Again and again. He was panting so hard after chasing the ball, but could not stop. It was like he was trained to stalk. After practice I couldn't send him home with a player and I couldn't leave him there. I called Wes with a big, "Guess what!?"

The first night we had Scout, we knew he was wild. There were signs. He would stalk us in the house. He was teensy, so when we went to sleep that night I was scared I would roll over on him and squash him, but also scared that he might attack in the night. Ha!

We tried to keep him indoors. All he wanted to do was go outside. We would play with him for hours and he would not tire. Scout was a hunter - he needed something to pursue, something to stalk.



He was known for jumping into and hiding in laundry baskets, chasing after the laser pointer, crawling into weird closet spaces, jumping onto high shelves, looking out windows, curling up in sinks, knocking over full clothes drying racks, and drinking running water. He knew when he was needed. He cuddled with me when I was sick, sat with me when I worked late into the night to finish a paper (and tried to drink my wine), and slept with Wes on the couch almost daily during Wes' exhausting intern year. He cooked with me. He slept with us. He took walks with us (seriously - after we got Rosie all four of us would go for a walk around the neighborhood). He cuddled with Rosie and teased her to no end. He crawled into the bed with Rosie and I after a night of prowling. He woke us up as he entered the bedroom - just to alert us to his presence - and then climbed on his tree to spend the day basking in the sun. He taught Rosie how to climb on the back of the couch and get excited about birds and squirrels. He would climb onto my chest for a cuddle when I most needed it.

Wes and I sat with Scout in our room at the hospital trying to decide what to do. Mostly we were crying and petting Scout, because I think we knew what needed to happen.

Dr. Reisdorf was amazing. Supportive, calm, informative, understanding. Scout didn't move at all when the needle went in. Not a bit. Didn't make a sound. We rubbed him and eventually he put his head down and went to sleep.

He was everything. He is everywhere. Everywhere I look in the house I see him.




He buried him in a place where he has room to run. He is in a grove of trees in between a pond and a meadow overlooking more fields. I can see him peering out from the trees getting ready to pounce. Or running around the fields, and with every bound looking more and more like a lion.

When we buried Scout I wrote: "Yesterday and today and I'm sure tomorrow will be spent in tears or on the verge of tears - but my tears are very selfish. I want Scout to be here and I miss him. But through the tears I can see the joy of the 1 1/2 years that we had with Scout. The joy of the time we had far outweighs any sadness I feel now."

And that is still true. Wes and I laugh about Scout and his mannerisms daily. We hear "meows" on a regular basis and wonder where it is coming from... We miss him and we always will.

We miss you Scout and are thankful for you.

New haircut

At the Ranch

We've been at the ranch now for a few days, after brief stops in Lawrence, KS, and Longmont, CO, to spend the night. Lawrence is kind of okay. Just kind of. But not really. But, really, Pacha Mammas was amazing. Totally jealous of you Jayhawks for that....

We stopped in Longmont to stay the night with Libby and Clayton. Rosie and Moose (the pup cousins) got to play and so did we!





Mom and I came to the ranch the next day. The ranch (Babcocks Hole Ranch, or Hamilton Ranch) is located between Wetmore and Beulah, pretty much in the middle of the San Isabel National Forest. I love it here. The nearest neighbors are at least 3 miles away. We are in the middle of the mountains at 6000 feet with an amazing view of Pikes Peak to the north. Trails cover the ranch and the National Forest, so daily hikes and bike rides are the norm.

The first day, I took the Karate Monkey back out to the highway and rode over to Beulah and back on gravel. I went up the 387 pass, which was basically an hour of climbing to get to the top, 20 minutes of descending down to Beulah, 1 hour back to the top, and 20 minutes back to Mason Gulch Road (to the ranch). The ride pretty much toasted my legs, because I was riding a 33x18 single speed. The climb had prolonged steep sections and the gear was too big to get into a good rhythm. The gearing was fine on the lower sections of the climb, but pretty burly for long sections.



I powered through it, though, and am looking forward to doing it again, and also climbing to the top of the pass toward Westcliffe.

The next day we took a long hike up Mason Gulch, where the big fire five years ago originated. The fire was allowed to burn by the higher ups, but then got out of control and came straight for the ranch house. They were able to stave off the fire, but it was still hectic up here while they tried to move animals, and anything valuable from the house. The mountainside is covered with burned trees. Most of the trails on that side were wiped out as well. Grass is finally growing back on the hillsides, so the land is regenerating itself, like it should. We set off up Mason Gulch in search of an old spring. We finally found it, but it wasn't easy. It turned into a pretty long hike, and we didn't bring food or enough water. Whoops.



Yesterday we went mountain biking at the Pueblo Reservoir, which was a great way to spin out tired legs. The trail was 10-12 miles of swoopy, twisty, turny singletrack on the side of the reservoir. It was pretty similar to the other high desert trails I've ridden. Way, way fun.

When we aren't hiking or biking, we are sitting on the porch, socializing, playing with the dogs, and mostly getting the ranch ready for a wedding! A lot of my jobs have been with the animals. I have worked with horses, donkeys, a baby mule, peacocks, homing pigeons.... More about those peacocks later.



My favorite is moving the baby mule and her Momma every night back to the protective confines of a corral. After we get them into the corral, we talk to the little mule (6 days old) and touch her face, head, ears, back, belly, legs.... Just to get her used to humans. She is so sweet and soft. She is really starting to warm-up to us. I am going to try to get her to walk up to me in the field for a rub. She's been very close, but not allowed me to touch her yet.

We are having way too much fun, I am sure, but we are working hard to get this place ready for the wedding!

Paradiso Numero Dos

Headed west for two weeks. We have about 6000 feet of climbing to do before we disappear off the map. I'm going to be hiking, riding, running, eating, drinking, and helping to throw a BIG party.



Good luck trying to find me!

Virgin Islands 2010

It seems to be a crime to devote only one blog post to 10 days in the Virgin Islands, but that is what it's going to be. I lost way too many pictures on the trip because my memory card was acting up. I lost some pictures of some really unbelievable stuff, unfortunately. Oh well. I have pictures from the Captain of things that I don't have pictures of, and I give him photo credits below.

I went with a group from school to sail for ten days. Everyone on the trip had personal/professional interests on the trip. The two undergraduates on the trip are required to redesign the sailboat interior when they get back. I am studying ecoresorts for my doctoral studies, so we had several stops planned for me to be able to talk to managers and tour resorts I hadn't visited before in the VI. Another doctoral student on the trip studies human behavior in small spaces (ie. sailboats), and we also had a professor from MU Extension who is interested in incorporating sailing into a student trip to Greece. Our Captain is my/our advisor, and has been leading student sailing trips for 10 years.

We flew into Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas and stayed that night at the Island Beachcomber Hotel in Lindberg Bay. It is a short walk from the airport. The Beachcomber is awesome because it's right on the beach - taking a taxi just to get to the beach is frustrating and expensive, so we always just stay right on the beach. My 10 days of bliss on/in the water started about 10 minutes after we checked in to the hotel. It's a hard thing to get me out of the water after that....

The next day, we took a ferry to Water Island to tour several homes that were set-up with photovoltaic systems, and to tour an ecoresort. The payback for most PV systems down there is THREE YEARS. I don't understand why PV is not used more there, considering the cost of energy is 3-5 times higher than it is here in the Midwest. We had a stop at Honeymoon Beach on Water Island, where I proceeded to fall in the water fully clothed and soak myself. I'm not sure how I can gracefully dribble a soccer ball while sprinting full speed, or smoothly ride a MTB down a rocky hill with no braking and still be one of the clumsiest people on earth, but I proved myself clumsy on this trip several times. This was just the start.


Honeymoon Beach, Water Island

After we toured Water Island, we ferried to Roadtown, Tortola, BVI to get on our boat. I'm on a boat... We heard that song once or twice while we were in the islands. We spent the night on Gitana, then left the next morning for Soper's Hole, Tortola, to check out of customs and then head to St. John, USVI.


Our boat, Gitana, a 42 foot beneteau

This was my first time sailing on a monohull and from the first short sail down to Soper's Hole, I was absolutely in love with it. Sailing on a catamaran isn't sailing... Our first mooring with 3 crew members who had never sailed before happened in an absolute downpour in Soper's Hole. The rain (and wind) made the first mooring a little bit of a nervous experience, but everything went smoothly. Our crew was awesome for the whole trip. We then had to go through customs again in St. John, where we/I had a first in shallow water. Ooops. Now I know what that feels like...


My "clothes" drying on the lifeline in Salomon Bay, between Caneel Bay and Cruz Bay, St. John, USVI

We spent the night moored in Salomon Bay. We hiked from Salomon Bay over to Cruz Bay on NPS trails to eat dinner for the night. We passed some locals playing a pick-up soccer game on the way and I was very, very tempted to join... Looking back, I probably should have. It was dark on the hike back, but luckily I had stashed a couple of headlamps in my bag. We had three headlamps for six of us, so we paired up on the trail. I accidentally grabbed a cactus going down a steep, technical drop in the trail and the person following me did too. Whoops. It looked like a normal tree. I still have a barb in my palm.

The next day we sailed into open water on the south side of St. John to get to the southeastern part of the island. I spent the first part of the trip untangling a line from a spreader (looking straight up the mast and not out to the horizon in open water) and consequently the majority of the sail to Saltpond Bay trying not to move and staring straight at the horizon trying not to get seasick. It was a great sail, so I was disappointed to be wishing I was either physically in the water or on land for the whole thing. Seasickness is a weird thing. I makes you absolutely miserable and you can't get away from it.

Relief came soon enough, when we moored in Saltpond Bay in the Coral Reef National Monument on a NPS mooring, and dinghyed to shore to tour the Concordia Estate. It was great for me, because Ken showed us all the details and I got to ask all the questions I wanted. I now have some really great contacts at Concordia/Maho, people who are leaders in the ecoresort world.

Photo Credit: Captain Ronn

Concordia, St. John, USVI

That evening I convinced 2/3 of the crew that we should hike to the top of Ramshead, a rocky peninsula, to watch the sun set. I hiked to Ramshead from Maho Bay with Wes last year on an epic 8 hour hike. It wasn't epic this time, but it sure was beautiful. Good idea, Anne.


Sunset from the Ramshead


Sunset from Blue and White Pebble Beach near Saltpond Bay


Sunrise in Saltpond Bay with Concordia on the hill

The next day we sailed to Virgin Gorda, with a stop in Roadtown to go back through customs.

The swimmer (me) tying up the dinghy at the Baths, Virgin Gorda, BVI Photo Credit: Captain Ronn

When things need to be done in the water, I am usually the person who jumps at the chance to get it done. I absolutely love the water and am very comfortable skin diving, snorkeling, swimming, whatever. Thank you Marge Fonner for all those years of coaching and instruction! What started as a competitive sport has turned into a yearning for the water. SO I tied up the dinghy, and then we hiked through the Baths, to the Top of the Baths for lunch. It was hot! Right after the Captain took this picture, a chicken wandered through the restaurant, which is not uncommon in the VI.

Top of the Baths, Virgin Gorda, BVI Photo Credit: Captain Ronn

We had some firsts that day - we couldn't find a mooring ball at Spanishtown, we anchored instead, we got too close to another boat while anchored, we pulled up the anchor and motored into the marina in the dark (which was only slightly tense, but with a capable Captain and crew, we pulled it off).

The next morning I clumsily dropped my sunglasses into the water in the marina, and had my scariest skin dive yet to fetch them. We were only in probably 10 feet of water, but when I got in, the water was so icky that I couldn't even see my fin tips. Yetch. I was actually pretty scared because you really don't know what is down there. The Captain told me to just dive, and I would know I was at the bottom when I got there. Yeah, I had no idea where I was in the water until I finally saw the nasty bottom when I was about a foot from it. It was a good thing I had white frames, because I would not have been able to see them otherwise. I got to the bottom and spotted the glasses a few feet away, and then pulled back suddenly when I saw something black stream by my face. I calmed down a bit, then noticed it was a stream of darker liquid flowing along the bottom. Yetch again. I had to swim through TWO of these to my glasses. I have never been so glad to get out of the water when I got back to the surface. I could taste motor oil and who knows what else after I got out. So, yeah, I showered right then and there. Disgusting. I still shudder at the thought of what those streams of dark liquid could have been....

We sailed northeast that day to Saba Rock and the Bitter End Yacht Club. It was a great sail, the waters near Virgin Gorda are my favorite of the VI, I think.


The view from Saba Rock


A sign in a restaurant at the Bitter End (Chandler is my middle name, a family name, but a Ship Chandler is a dealer in shipping/boating supplies.)

We spent a very toasty night in Leverick Bay, Virgin Gorda because of the absence of wind. Usually sleeping on the boat is a very comfortable in the water even in the summer, just because of the wind. You almost never see water that calm. It was weird.


The calm water we woke up to in Leverick Bay

We motored to Savannah Bay that morning to go snorkeling. Savannah Bay is relatively deserted, because only people who have been there before go in - the channel isn't marked, so you have to know where you are going, and watch the bottom to be sure. The bay is mostly used by locals, but Captain Ronn had been there several times before, so it was no that big of a deal. We had a bit of a hard time getting into the anchorage, because the sun kept going behind the clouds, so we couldn't see the bottom to pick out the coral/sandy bottom. Ronn knew roughly where the channel was, so we did fine, but it was still a little stressful. It wasn't shallow enough for us to hit bottom, but you still don't want to risk hitting any coral. We anchored in the sandy bottom, then dinghyed to shore with our gear to snorkel for the morning/afternoon.

When we finally got back to the boat, we discovered that our boat had moved enough to wrap the anchor rode around a coral head. Yowzas. Not good. Captain Ronn and I jumped in to see what we could do. We were in maybe 25 feet of water, so it's not like it was a super easy skin dive down to the bottom. My first few dives, I freaked out a little because of the depth and because I felt how heavy the chain was underwater. I didn't think we would have any luck getting untangled. It as also very difficult to see how the chain was wrapped around the coral. Two frenchmen in Speedos came over to help out, and with them and Ronn directing Bobbi how to move the boat, and me telling someone to tighten/loosen the anchor rode, then diving to pull the anchor away and off the coral, we made some progress. Eventually we were able to move the chain away from the underside of the coral enough to see exactly where it was caught on top of the coral. It was really a mess. I really, really have a thing against touching coral, and get mad a people when I see them do it (I dove with some people near St. John last year who touched stuff and pushed off coral. Ugh, it mad me so mad.). This time, though, I had no choice. The chain was wrapped around the coral and could do more damage than me going down to brace myself against the coral and pull the thing off... I was wearing Ronn's diving gloves, so I braced myself with one arm and managed to wrench the chain free with the other, and swim the chain to the side off the coral. My first and last time to touch coral. I feel worse about the chain than me touching, though. We got out of there rather quickly after we chatted with the frenchmen.

We went straight across the channel to moor in Trellis Bay, off Beef Island. We took a dinghy to shore, and on the ride I got "fish slapped." A fish jumped right out of the water, and the dinghy carried my side/back right into it, where it left a wet, fishy smelling mark on my clean dress. Clean clothes are pretty sacred on a boat... Even after the water dried, my dress had a strong fishy smell to it, which is why, I am sure this cat took a liking to me when we dinghyed back across the bay to Marina Cay.


Cat at Pusser's, Marina Cay Photo Credit: Bobbi on my camera

This post is getting long so I will give the short version of the rest of the trip. I love to sail on a monohull. It's such a great feeling when you find that sweet spot and the wind fills the sails and the boat pops and lurches forward. We sailed in a storm and couldn't see more than 25 meters in any direction. My pictures of this are gone. We snorkeled the wreck of the Rhone, which was incredible. We couldn't stay long because the above mentioned storm was blowing in, but I will be back to dive it, not just snorkel it.


The crew getting ready to dinghy to shore for a dinner out Photo Credit: Captain Ronn

I can sail really well on a starboard tack. Not so much on a port tack, though. It was weird. Couldn't figure it out. I have to master it. Soon.

I wish I didn't get seasick, even with the medication.


Me snorkeling (snorfeling, as Danica says) with zebrafish at Monkey Point off of Guana Island, BVI Photo Credit: Captain Ronn

It was a really, really, great trip and I am still digesting everything. Three days after we got back, Wes and I closed on our house, so I've been going nonstop since for the last three weeks getting us moved and unpacked....

Honeymoon Beach

Chilling on the beach after touring an Eco-camp, and two houses with grid-tied pv systems on Water Island.

Roughin' It

The ocean soothes my soul.

The Last Supper

The last supper before you depart into the unknown is always important. Really, I could eat ramen noodles for two weeks until I get back. I just have no clue. The last few times I was in the Virgin Islands, I was lucky to have a fresh vegetable to go along with the rice and beans, or I will admit, ramen noodles.

Good food for me not only consists of fresh veggies, but good meat. If all the meat available to me is CAFO, I will just not eat meat at all. No surprise then, that my last meal consisted of a huge salad with mixed greens from Chert Hollow Farm, and braised beef short ribs from Missouri Legacy Beef with roasted red potatoes.



Yah, so the last supper was not bad. At all.

In about 16 hours, I will be on the beach in Lindberg Bay, St. Thomas. The beach looks something like this:



With a view south toward St. Croix like this:



It won't be all fun and games, though, I do have to meet with people regarding dissertation research. While I am in the Virgin Islands, I will meet with people from several different eco-resorts, a research station, and the NPS.

I will do all of this from a 42 foot monohull, under the captaincy of my advisor. We will sail from Roadtown, Tortola, BVI, to wherever the wind takes us. The wind will have to take us to St. John and Virgin Gorda.

I'll try to update this blog while I am down there with my iPhone. If I can't get service, you'll just have to wait until I get back.

Wet

I'm Back

For now.