Day One: Fail

Check out the bandanna. Courtesy of Walmart.com.

For the next 40 days I will be observing myself, I guess. It's a self-indulgent and unnecessary challenge. Four hours a week I clean up my local yoga studio and in return I get free yoga. Good deal.

But the manager of the studio wanted all the teachers and volunteers to participate in a program called "40 days to a personal revolution". It follows a book written by an American yogi. His name is Baron Baptiste (I'll refer to him as BB). He wears a bandanna all the time, to ward off demons. (oh, BB). He thinks he has all the answers to cause a complete revolution in a person; a person he doesn't know and will never meet. That's pretty presumptuous of him, I think. I will take away his power by denying his "laws" of transformation (yeah, he made his owns laws, but I will get to those later).

I'm not against change. Or kicking bad habits. Or facilitating time for myself. All of those things are possible in the next 40 days. But any change I make or habit kicked or time taken, I have to share with the group. There's the real challenge, because I won't do that. I don't believe that growth is a group experience. I can become a whole new person in the privacy of my own self, thanks. 

Along with 20-or-so people, we will meet once a week and talk about our failures, our progress, blah blah blah. I don't believe it will work. But there you have it. I have already failed. By going into this process of "personal revolution" by running the other way, I hold the very potential to ruin it all.

So... Imma go for a jog.

Safe Harbor open to climbing after more than a decade!

It's been a mild winter in south central PA, to say the least. A freak 10-hour storm dropped a few inches that stuck around a few days. But other than that, I would compare our January weather with the average March. Lame, as far as I'm concerned.

But, when January gives you sunny days in the 60s, it's best taken advantage of.

So my climbing friend Jen asked me to join her for a day at Safe Harbor in Conestoga Township in Lancaster County. I'd never been and was eager to learn about the new spot and get on some real rock.

Jen Smith preparing to rap off of Pro Bono (5.7)

Safe Harbor crag is a cliff line running along the Susquehanna River just to the south side of the Conestoga River confluence. (There is also a crag to the north of the confluence in Manor Township that is not yet reopened.) The cliff are not natural. According to safeharborclimbing.com, they were created in the early 20th century to extend the Pennsylvania Railroad. Although climbing along the railroad was probably occurring for decades, the real development of lines came in the mid-1970s by Tony Herr and Don Gallagher, two active Lancaster area climbers. 

Looking up at the line of cliffs, some sections rising 100 feet over the gravel path, I felt my fingers tingling. This was going to be a great day. The sun was shining, making the bolts of nearly a hundred routes glisten. We had the crag to ourselves. The only other climbers we could see were hundreds of feet away, enjoying another section.

Jen and I set up a rope on a slabbing 5.7 to warm up and get a feel for the style of Safe Harbor. Because the place of virtually vacant, we left the rope up some friends joining us later might want to run up it. The lack of climbers was not a lack of popularity, Jen told me. It was simply the fact of it being a Tuesday.

Eric Horst was a protege of Herr and Gallagher. Along with a few other climbers in their twenties, the group developed a handful of trad lines and toprope routes. As Horst writes on safeharborclimbing.com, climbers were never bothered by the landowners and were often entertainment for passing train engineers. 

Through the 1980s, the crag saw little growth in the number of climbers beyond the initial group. The rail line was deactivated in 1988 and the tracks were removed in 1989. Although most of the climbers from the 70s had moved on to different crags, Horst and Herr came back in the late-80s to take another look at Safe Harbor. With them they brought sport climbing, a new trend in vertical rock climbing that was just taking off.

A few hours into day, Jen and I met a fellow named Jerry who seemed to know his way around Safe Harbor. He told us about the progression of the crag from trad to sport. We found many rusted bolts throughout the day placed there a decade ago, but most of the lines were already sporting solid protection, an effort by Horst and his friends when the crag finally reopened.

In 1990, a few dozen bolted routes went up and with it came the climbers. Horst writes on safeharborclimbing.com that the number of climbers visiting Safe Harbor grew by the weekend. By 1991 more climbers (with drills) came and about 60 new sport routes. As Safe Harbor was the only sport crag within a six-hour drive of the major Mid-Atlantic cities, it saw a lot of traffic. That year also saw the early development of Safe Harbor North, the cliff lines just north along the river of original crag. About the same time, local municipalities and Amtrak -- the landowner -- started to get nervous.

Jen Smith setting her rack to lead Pro Bono.

This is a common problem for landowners in many states. The liability laws of our litigious society mean that even trespassers can sue for injury. It's not a risk many people are willing to take. But fortunately for all climbers in the area, the efforts of the locals who would not forget about Safe Harbor have brought this little gem back to life.

By 1992, the crag was famous. A feature article ran in Rock & Ice magazine in the fall. The newly formed Access Fund recommended Horst and his fellow climbers get the land designated for climbing as a recreational activity as soon as possible. 


It did not happen soon enough, however. In the mid-1990s, the local police made frequent stops at Safe Harbor and removed anyone found climbing, giving them fines for trespassing. That went on until 2004. 


When I asked Jerry about those forbidden years, he wouldn't say much. He admitted that many climbers were caught and told to leave. And that it wasn't a good idea back then to climb here. But when I asked if that really prevented locals from sending their favorite lines, all I got from Jerry was a expression trying not to smile.



In summer 2004, Lancaster County Parks acquired the land through eminent domain and allowed recreational climbing. That was extremely short-lived. By fall 2004, a state court overturned the eminent domain acquisition and gave the land back to Amtrak. Climbing was again off limits.


In 2009, the land was given to the surrounding townships, but climbing was still forbidden because of a concern of electrocution from the overhanging power lines. The lines have since been replaced by higher utility poles and moved about 15 feet away from the cliff lines. 


In early fall 2011, Conestoga Township voted to allow climbing once more at Safe Harbor. 

And thankfully they did, because my friends and I had a wonderful day.

** All historical information about Safe Harbor came from safeharborclimbing.com.

Pennsylvania Farm Show 2012

Bailey Kasbee and her pig Oreo.

Every Monday I spend a few hours hanging out with the news team at WITF radio in Harrisburg. Last week I got to hang out with reporter Mary Wilson as she toured the Pennsylvania Farm Show looking for a cool story. She manned the microphone and I snapped photos along the way.

Mary put together a great piece on the show and my photos are featured in a slide show below the transcript (it is radio, you know).


We started out in the food aisles talking to vendors about the politics of free samples. Then we moved on to the art of showing pigs, purchasing Longhorn cattle, raising alpaca and finally grooming heifers for judging.

Check out Mary's piece and my photos at WITF.org.

This is the year...to boost my brain power

Courtesy of hawkexpress on Flickr

Sometimes, in line at the grocery store, when I’ve run out of tabloid covers to read, I glance at those booklets on brain training. From the look of them, they’re geared toward people who are older, maybe retired, who no longer have kids or a job to stimulate their brains.
    But I never really thought about things I could do to sharpen my memory or hone the connections between reason and emotion. I’m young. My brain is young. I think a lot. I’m even doing it right now. Maybe if I try to exercise my brain too much, I’ll pull a mental muscle or something?
    But if the alternative is my brain going to mush inside my skull, some cranial fatigue is worth the risk.
    So here’s my list of ten ways to do ol’ Brain Train:

Courtesy of Richard Trierweiler

    1. Sleep. This one’s my favorite so I put it first. I love sleep. I never feel like I’ve had enough. But just sleeping a lot is not always the solution. You have to make sure that the quality of the sleep you’re getting is top shelf. That means eliminating noise and light. I use double blackout curtains. They shut out the sun, cut down on street noise and even keep out the cold, saving money on my heating bill.
    2. Be contradicted. There’s nothing more stimulating than a healthy debate. It gives you an excuse to practice expressing your opinion and exposes you to new ideas. I’m lucky on this one. My partner never lets me get away with any statement without citing my sources.
    3. Eat tumeric. This common spice is used in pretty much every Indian, and most Thai, dishes. It’s a staple in my kitchen. Similar to ginger root, it contains curcumin, which may reduce the risk of dementia. One down side — it stains, so be tidy.

Courtesy of chocolate express on Flickr

    4. Eat dark chocolate — and drink red wine. Both are delicious sources of memory-improving flavonoids. And tell your parents to rock this one too. Studies have shown that after age 50, one serving of red wine a day will benefit the heart as well.
    5. Hydrate. I remember commercials from high school prompting eight glasses a day. It always seemed like a lot. But dehydration forces the brain to work harder and may prohibit planning abilities. Plus, you’ll be less likely to develop kidney stones. And I hear those are no fun.

Courtesy of jjpacres

    6. Write by hand. This is one that challenges me. I used to do it all the time. Essay tests in class were part of the curriculum and I never gave it much thought. Now, writing by hand for more than a couple hundred words and I’m cramping up. My new goal is to write the first draft by hand, second draft on the computer. Brain scans show that handwriting engages more sections of the brain than typing. And, it’s easier to remember something once you’ve written it down.
    7. Zone out. Take your brain off the leash and let it wander about. One professor I had in college gave the class permission to stop listening to her if we started to feel sleepy. The break, she said, made us more focused when we came back. And studies have shown that zoning out allows the brain to work on the ‘big picture’.
    8. Delay gratification. It encourages focus, and when exercised at the dinner table, makes that dessert take so much better. This is something I was much better at as a kid. Once I figured out the whole time-management thing, I realized that deadlines are good motivators, too.
    9. Master the Pomodoro Technique. This has nothing to do with pasta, but is a great tool for time-management. You stay focused and work in 25-minute blocks, taking a short break after each. The frequent rests aid mental agility, and you know you want to take it anyway.

Courtesy of WarzauWynn on Flickr

    10. Get out of town. City living is distracting. Just a few minutes on a crowded street impairs memory and self-control (like the urge to pull your hair out). So plan a weekend getaway. Pennsylvania is full of wonderful state and local parks, so this doesn’t mean you have to go far. This is also my favorite.

Real cold. Fake snow.

Negative wind chills + faux snow makers = the ice beard

Moving from New Hampshire to Pennsylvania I was anticipating a change in the winter clime. Temperatures rising into the 30s everyday rather than peaking in the teens. Less snow and ice, more flurries and slush. Roads salted with abandon instead of a more car- and earth-friendly sand dusting. But driving yesterday up the nearest ski hill (notice I don’t use the descriptor mountain), the wind was fighting me for control over the car, but there was no snow. Bear trees, yes. TK something else wintery. Even the occasional pond sporting a very thin sheet of ice. But no snow.

Until we got to the parking lot of Roundtop ski resort. All of a sudden, it was winter. Just on the north slope and only where the snow-making machines were roaring, but if I chose to put on my frost-colored glasses, I could see the best season of them all (in my opinion).

Not that New Hampshire is immune to green winters - this year is a good example - but I don’t remember popping out of my skis, walking 2 feet to the right and stepping back into Fall.

The snow in October was nice. I guess I should just take it as it comes. Winter in fall and fall in winter.

Faux winter it is.

Exploring Governor Stable

Thanks to the hard work of the Friends of Governor Stable, a slice of the Susquehanna River valley teeming with boulders is available to climbers. I learned about the Governor Stable boulderfield from a member of the FoGS board last spring. A pass for the climbing season, January through August, is $60. Since I didn't yet have a job and it was part way through the season, I found other places to boulder around York, Pa (like my basement gym).

But I knew the 2012 season was starting January 1, so for Christmas, I bought a pair of passes for Richard and me.

This afternoon, in the 28 degree weather, we drove over the Susquehanna to check out Governor Stable. We parked at the nearby public park and walked up the road to the trail head. Clouds were out in patches. When the sun peaked through I could feel it being absorbed by my black down vest. The wind was minimal, blocked by the boulders, but my toes were cold after 10 minutes.

I soon forgot my toes, distracted by the hundreds of climbs to explore. It's an impressive space and I'm happy to have access to it and to support the people working hard to get that access.

No photos today. My hands soon lost feeling like my toes. But I'm going back so another idle afternoon will be spent crawling over the boulders and hopefully sending some sweet problems.

My perfect Sunday

I grew up spending most of my Sunday mornings asleep and entirely aware that most of my peers were in church. Now I work Thursday through Monday so this New Year’s Day 2012, was the first Sunday I’ve had off since Labor Day.

The day started at midnight, lounging around a bonfire behind my friend Chris’ parents’ house. We rang in the New Year with a few cheers and the echoes of fireworks and dynamite bouncing off the valley slopes from nearby celebrations. Walking back to the house after a couple more hours of chatting with friends I hadn’t seen for six months, I looked up at the stars. They shined through a hole in the low cloud cover and I realized I hadn’t seen stars for as many months. (A sacrifice of city living, I suppose.)

Rusting "stairs" to Pulpit Rock

Reclaimed coal mine

Woods walking, also known as hiking

After a few hours’ sleep, Chris, Norah, Richard and I woke up to a clear, brisk morning. A hike was on the agenda and since Chris spent grew up in the surrounding woods, we were given a guided tour of his childhood haunts.

The highlight for me was a look into a seemingly bottomless tunnel that was built from 1891 to 1934 under a coalmine for drainage. The tunnel itself was bizarre. Thick rebar lengths that crisscrossed to prevent people from climbing down blocked the 10-foot diameter entrance. It stuck out of the ground at a 45-degree angle like a giant worm from Dune. Looking down we saw rocks and trash that people had thrown but that hadn’t made it very far. About 50 feet down the lower half of the tunnel was caving in and a pile of dirt made seeing any further impossible.

Down the Jeddo

But even more compelling than a giant tunnel was the backstory. Chris told us that he had heard of people taking kayaks down into the tunnel. About three miles away there was an exit, but to get there the kayakers had to make it through pH 0 drainage water with no light and multiple rapids speculated at class 5. And depending on the recent weather the exit could be completely blocked with water rushing into the Nescopeak Creek. For those who make it out alive, the cops are usually waiting at the exit with handcuffs. And, Chris said, the Jeddo Mine Tunnel has a death rate worse than Mount Everest.

A great romp in the woods always needs a spooky story.

Out of the woods and on for pizza!

After hiking out to the car we’d earlier stashed, we headed straight for pizza and garlic knots. The cookies we ate out in the woods, called Million Dollar cookies, were delicious but calories from the butter and excess sugar were gone before we even ate them.

A morning of exploration and friends followed by too much food is my perfect Sunday.