Posts Tagged ‘Photos’

I rock climbed at Crowder’s Mountain for the first time today. My partner said it is “also known as” (aka) ‘Crowded Mountain’. It was that. We had to park on private property where a donation was requested about a 1/4 mile away. Most of the people on the approach seemed to be there for hiking and viewing rather than climbing. Though we saw many climbers, we did not have to change what climb we wanted to do or wait once. I had heard some voices at the top of the climbing area. It turns out that the 5.10a climb I was doing had a lip at the top, almost like a banister for the flat spot on top. When I popped up over the top at least 20 young people were lounging on the ground and rocks. One young woman was sitting on the anchors. I said, “Excuse me.” She moved and said, “I’m sorry.” The whole group was staring at me silently, so I said, “Oh, is there an easier way up?” Most laughed, but one limited English-language lady began to explain and point to where the trail came up. I listened politely, shook my head approvingly, and walked away.

It was foggy when we first arrived and the rock was not totally dry. The rock is very different from where I usually climb in the High Country. There were alternating layers of metamorphic rock: hard, iron rich layers and chossy, mica-rich, weak layers. Odd shaped nubs, jugs, and cavities were everywhere at the interface of the two layers. We climbed 30 foot 5.7 and 5.8 for warm-up on the back side of Finger Wall, then a 5.8 and 5.9 (though we both agreed it was much easier) on the back of David’s Castle. Then we climbed a sustained 5.10a on the Practice Wall, followed by an attempt at Burn Crack (5.10c) It lived up to its name, overhung and intense for the first half. Both of us are coming off of injury and neither of us finished it. I was pleased to have done so well after 5 weeks off of climbing from a knee injury. The ability to begin again is a blessing from God.


The Finger (Wall) Crack


Standing in the Gap


Transition from chimneying to layback crack


A pleasant view


With my partner at the top


The Piedmont and the Charlotte skyline


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Arrival Pictures

We are happy for our son and his wife as they welcomed their 4th child and 3rd son into their home on Thursday morning. Thankfully the other three children slept through the home birth activities, awakening to a new baby brother. I was asked for pictures and here they are:

May God bless this little one with knowledge of Him and clear purpose revealed.

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I have the privilege (really!) to patrol Monday morning parking lot duty from 7:15 until 7:50. On most Monday mornings there are no more than 2 or 3 cars in the parking lot when I arrive. That makes for some quiet moments to consider the day, pray about concerns, and look around. Quiet allows you to observe better. One morning I saw various seeds under the trees: Bald Cypress cones, acorns, and Sweet Gum balls. Another morning I saw oak leaves of various sizes and broadness on the ground. Looking up into the tree I could see that smaller ones generally came from the top of the tree and larger ones from the bottom. These larger ones are called shade leaves. They are competing for the sparse sunlight in the shade cast by the rest of the tree. Yet a third morning I spied leaves popping up a few at a time in the direction from one bush to another. I kept watching and every 5 to 10 seconds the leaves would pop up an inch or so. After every few minutes the movement of the leaves would retrace the path back toward the first bush. I concluded that I was seeing a mouse or other vermin forging a tunnel just under the leaves and mulch on this frosty morning.

Speaking of frost, the very next week the morning was even colder, around 27 degrees (-2.8 degrees Celsius). As I approached my usual vantage point for watching cars, students, and nature, I saw that the golden brown Bald Cypress needles had fallen to the ground in the last week and this morning were fringed in frost. I went to investigate and caught a hold of an early arriving former student, requesting that he snap a picture and e-mail it to me (gonna have to get one of them new fangled smart phones one of these days).

Bald Cypress needles

The most Exquisite Lace

I retreated back to my self-appointed post. Still there were but few cars in the lot and none nor no one stirring. I glanced over toward the frosted needles once or twice. Then between two bushes I spied a curious sight about which I was at first incredulous. In fact, a few minutes later a student came to pass my way and I requested the use of her young eyes to see if she would see what I think I was yet seeing. She confirmed that there were indeed the appearance of heat waves between the bushes. Imagine, heat waves on a frosty morning! She went on and I was left standing to contemplate how this could be. Moments later a small breeze kicked up and the waves were gone. That only served to confirm my belief that they had been heat waves.

Heat waves are caused by varying densities of fluid (air in this case) refracting light passing through them. Usually the warmer fluid is rising, forming a convective cell. As it randomly snakes upward the background images are gently contorted by the light passing through the foreground fluid.

But what was forming the heat waves? As my eyes scanned the parking lot and Cypress needles, it seemed to me that the frost was heavier during the short period I had been standing there. That may have only been to my sight because of the increasing light as the sun rose, but it brought a possibility to mind. When frost forms, water vapor in the air turns directly into solid ice crystals on the grass or windshield. This process is called deposition, which is the opposite of sublimation, and skips the liquid state going either way. The heat given off by changing from gas to liquid and liquid to solid is about 8 times more than the heat given off by the same amount of liquid water cooling from 100 to 0 degrees Celsius. Needless to say, a significant amount of energy is given off by the deposition of frost. Frosty heat waves, that is shimmering amazing.*

*If my conclusion is correct








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Sometimes I’m not sure if I have already written a post or just thought about it. So, sometimes I go back into my own blog and search for a post. The post I actually wrote was about 29 years of heating with wood (Click on the following title to read “A Warm Habit“.). I am now heating in my 35th year. I have some unfinished writing I said I would write another day in “A Warm Habit”.

The first year I heated with wood was the second winter of our marriage. I used a wood stove borrowed from a friend. The next year my father bought me a small, cast iron, bolt together wood stove with a nice picture on both sides. It was sufficient for the small 3 room house we were renting. As hindsight now allows me to regret, I sold that stove the next year. I thought that I would not heat with wood again when my wife and I went for a year of Bible School in Chicago and lived in a 4 room house with central oil heat. The next ¬†year we moved to Elizabethton, TN, and lived in the front half of a split house. Ironically, though we had just lived in Chicago, the first winter in Elizabethton was the coldest we ever had in a house. The landlord had a wood stove in the the crawl space with ductwork to supposedly heat both halves. It didn’t heat our half. Our first child was constantly wrapped up like he was outdoors. The next winter we lived in a house on Camp Ta-Pa-Win-Go. I paid a small rent and worked as maintenance man. We heated with the very nice installed wood stove. The next year we moved to the Horseshoe, a small gorge and bend in the Watauga River in that shape. The first year in that little house in the woods with the curtains that blew in the winter breeze, we heated with my friend’s wood stove again while he was building a house.

If you having been following this story, then you will realize that we had now been married 7 winters and heated with wood for five. It was again time to find a wood stove. I started checking the want ads of the local newspaper, because this was in the days before Ebay and Craigslist. I looked at several that were a combination of too small for heating a whole house and too expensive for my budget since I was was in the state of affairs referred to as under-employed at the time, doing odd jobs. I saw another stove advertised for $250 in Bristol, TN, about an hour and a half drive by the roads then available. The price seemed at the edge of my range and it was called a Fisher “Grandfather”, which I understood vaguely to mean it was a larger model stove. I grabbed a friend and we went that way. It was well after dark when we pulled up to the most curious house in the neighborhood. The house was obviously much older than any other in the neighborhood. It was a one story white clapboard house that had a large porch all across the front with disproportionately large white columns one might expect to see on a big house on the plantation. The address matched. The windows were unlit even as the neighborhood was poorly lit. A young couple came to the door. The stove was in the front living room which was almost empty except for the large, two door wood stove in front of the chimney. I sized it up while my friend made small talk. I began to engage with the man in order to try to haggle the price. He referred me to his wife, who he said was the owner of the stove before they were married. One of us made a comment about the interesting house. They began to explain that they had hoped to remodel this post-Civil War house and raise their family there. Instead, they were now going to be missionaries and had already cleared most of their furniture. I told the young woman that my budget was really tight and I intended to heat with wood as I had already been doing to save money. With what I thought to be almost tears in her eyes she explained how the stove was meaningful to her because of family connections and that she hated to part with it. She had already turned down several other people who had wanted the stove and finished her story by saying, “I just want to find a home for this stove with someone who will burn a sincere fire.” I assured her that based on the fact that I was already regularly heating with wood, cut and split all of my own wood, and had a growing family and a limited income, that I could most certainly “burn a sincere fire.” I felt as though I was swearing to always burn fires in this way. Based on my sincere testimony, the woman was convinced and allowed me to give her just $190 for a stove that probably cost $900 to $1000 new. But I was not scamming or playing; things were really that tight. The stove was very hard for us three young men to move, given its size and weight. We laid down boards and mostly scooted the stove across these boards to avoid scratching the hardwood floor and porch. We wrestled it onto the back of my 1970 F-100 with the rusted bed. For the next 30 winters thus far I have burnt the most sincere fires possible, keeping warm a wife and 5 children in three different houses in two states. I think that what most makes the fires in this stove sincere is the enjoyment I obtain from heating with wood and the reflection I have while starting fires. My wife encouraging me to get up and start a fire because it’s cold in the house probably doesn’t hurt any.

As He has so many times, God provided what I needed when I needed it. During those times when it seemed as though He didn’t, really He did, just not in the way or at the time that I expected or requested. He is good.


Starting a sincere fire during the first snow of the season with wet wood drying by the wood box in the background.


The sideboard of an old woodbox that my wife stenciled when we lived in the Horseshoe.


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Many of the Thanksgiving traditions of my family are over 30 years old: the meal with the brothers at the oldest’s house, the flag football game, the day after hike, guests from near and far. Many of the children who are now parents don’t really remember Thanksgiving any other way. But as spouses have been added, which means extended families, the traditions have had to flex and bend to traditions and schedules of other families. The day after hike used to be on “Black Friday”, sort of a rejection of the shopping madness for a stroll in the mountains and conversation with family. But this year and last the big meal was on Friday, and this year the hike was on Thursday. Rather than brothers and spouses and children and cousins, it was trimmed down to my oldest brother and me.

We explored a few ruins and cemetery in the Sugarlands of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. There was once a thriving community on this gentle slope below Bulls Head of the Mt. LeConte. The sugar maples upslope were a source of sugar and the name of the community. There was Pi Beta Phi settlement school begun there in 1920 with a stone house for the teachers and later a CCC Camp for workers in the young National Park.


Catching rays in the leafless Autumn before the dim winter days


The main school house? The boarding quarters or dining room?


Rest under the plush carpet




Creek crossing


Teacher’s House




Living Room


Beech and Sourwood juxtaposed


Bedload scouring


Both lively and peaceful


Double Duty- cleared land and separated

After the hike I went to visit my 3rd born. Arriving just before dark, we went down to Kingston to see the sunset. Having already set, we walked the concrete “boardwalk” enjoying the fading colors and good conversation.


Too late and just in time


On Saturday I went bouldering at Lilly Boulders at the Obed Scenic River climbing area. I was by myself at first but met up with another climber with whom I enjoyed the day. I was climbing exceptionally well, and truth be told, the grading of climbs seems easy here than at home. The day was perfect for climbing: crisp, dry, sunny.


One wall at Lilly Boulders


Lots of good climbing


Approach Pose


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One of the climbs on my bucket list has been climbing the Sitting Bear spire just below Ginger Cake Mountain. It was a beautiful day. However, I have been sick for quite some time and felt generally exhausted and very out of breath by the time we made the short, but steep approach. Every climb on this rock starts off with an overhang. In fact I would not at all be surprised to one day hear that it has become Laying Bear. The head of the bear makes it appear to be not only top heavy, but also weighted to one side. But not today for I climbed it. Truth be told I was sore and tried to lead the 5.9, “Original Route”, but could not make it over the overhang setting trad gear. So, I told my partner that I wanted on top. He tied an etrier (he pronounced it long “a””tree””a” suggesting that the word is French). With my handy stick clip I aided up a set of bolts to the last two moves before the top. I cheated my way to the top then set it up on toprope. The “Original Route” was not that hard without the hanging out to set pro. On the way up I was amazed at two of the old bolts. I referred to them as tool shed protection because they looked like someone had cut out a piece of mower deck, bent it at right angle, drilled a round hole, and afixed it with whatever small bolt they had on hand. In fact, the lower of the two appeared to be about a 3/16 inch bolt. Perhaps the old climbers climbed more by faith than by sight. The view on top was beautiful, relaxing, aesthetic (as one blogger put it). The head of the bear is just above treetop so that you can see quite well but at the same time feel like part of the forest. The view toward the South Mountains was reasonably clear, not quite what you would need to see the buildings in Charlotte which I have on rare winter days. The angle on the gorge allowed you to see all of the main points and straight down the river to the exit at Shortoff. We tried another 11d to the left reaching the rather blank looking face. It wasn’t the best climbing day I’ve had but doing something I’ve wanted to do on such a beautiful day with good conversation was quite refreshing.

Foot of Sitting Bear

Overhung Starts

Aiding Sitting Bear2

Etrier Arete

Ading Sitting Bear3

A bright and glorious day

Gorge from Sitting Bear2

Aesthetically Pleasing Linville Gorge


Tool Shed Pro


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It’s a pity when life gets in the way of blogging (just kidding!). But I have so many thoughts and experiences from the summer that I could blog for quite some time. It is not likely to happen as I see more things happening soon, but that’s OK.

I did want to share a few thoughts and pictures. I don’t often suggest books for several reasons. I do more technical reading than reading for pleasure, and frankly many books don’t meet my high standard of what I would unreservedly pass on to those I call friends, or enemies for that matter since I want them to one day be friends. A book that I can enthusiastically suggest is “The Book That Made Your World, How the Bible Created the soul of Western Civilization” by Vishal Mangalwadi. Because of his culture and his faith he simultaneously looks at the West as an outsider and insider at the same time. I keep having the feeling that he is correcting much error from lies our culture has fed us about how we got to where we are. He uses personal experiences and copious quotes to show the deep imprint of the Bible on western culture. I think that you will hear more about it here once I am finished with it.

My friend, colleague, and climbing partner, CC, took me to two boulders I’d never been to before. In fact, he had only been there a few days before with another climbing buddy for the first time cleaning about ten problems, laying a thick base of branches in a wet spot, and clearing part of a large fallen tree. I was privileged to try out the new rock. I like to go back to old familiar routes, but there is a particular excitement about trying new routes, and particularly ones that haven’t been climbed before. I was definitely not climbing at the top of my game, only topping out on a V1 and 3 V2’s. I tried two V4 and got shut down. Both problems involved a gaston with my left hand that I could not stick. It has challenged me to train that weakness. On the second one I discovered that if I did a side pull with my right hand instead, I could top out to the left much easier. We both agreed that it would rate as a V2. I decided to name it “Easy Out”. The two pictures are of me on the right sidepull and the topout. We saw several Cardinal Flowers in the wet, rich spots by the creek. I definitely want to go back, and hopefully clean some problems on new rock myself. (Photo credit: CC with his phone)


Lobelia cardinalis


Taking it “Easy..”


“Easy Out”


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