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Christmas Out West

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Veron­ica and I just got back from a trip to visit my Mom out west. I flew to Nevada a few days before Christ­mas. My orig­i­nal flight was greatly delayed, but an adept United ticket agent rebooked me on a US Air flight that left Mil­wau­kee and arrived in Reno slightly ear­lier than my orig­i­nal itin­er­ary. Other than the air­line, the only other dif­fer­ences were that I flew through Phoenix rather than Den­ver, and the the sec­ond leg of my trip was in first class (merry Christ­mas to me!). On Christ­mas Eve day, we spent much of our time prep­ping food for a repeat of last year’s big din­ner party — between us we made three pies, a big salad, roasted veg­eta­bles, and a baked brie. The din­ner itself was quite a suc­cess; I think we had thir­teen peo­ple for the meal and a cou­ple more for dessert.

Tule Plants

Tule Plants

We didn’t cel­e­brate on Christ­mas Day itself, as Veron­ica wasn’t fly­ing into Reno until that evening. Instead, my mom and I drove out to the Still­wa­ter Wildlife Refuge east of Fal­lon, hop­ing to see some migrat­ing Tun­dra Swans. We only saw one other per­son at the refuge, and that was only briefly. Most of the time, the only evi­dence of civ­i­liza­tion we could see was the very road on which we were dri­ving. Unfor­tu­nately, there weren’t any swans to see, either. The refuge com­prises a net­work of lakes and wet­lands, but on the day we were there they were all frozen over. So, no open water to attract migrat­ing birds. We did see a few hawks, some Prairie Fal­cons, a cou­ple of Great Blue Herons, and one Bald Eagle, but all from a dis­tance. That evening, Veron­ica arrived fol­low­ing a rel­a­tively smooth trip.

Soaring Hawk at Washoe Lake

Soar­ing Hawk at Washoe Lake

We had our Christ­mas on Box­ing Day, emp­ty­ing our over­stuffed stock­ings, unwrap­ping presents, and eat­ing my mom’s deli­cious crème brûlée French toast. Then, we headed up to Reno (stop­ping at Washoe Lake along the way) for some shop­ping and a visit to the Nevada Museum of Art. The Museum isn’t huge, but it always seems to have very inter­est­ing exhibits. The fea­tured exhi­bi­tion this time was a col­lec­tion of more than 100 of Rembrandt’s prints. Although he’s known pri­mar­ily for his paint­ings, the Dutch­man was also a pro­lific print­maker. Since many of the works are small and have very fine details, the museum pro­vided mag­ni­fy­ing glasses to carry around the gallery with you. Not know­ing much about print­mak­ing, I appre­ci­ated that the cura­tors pro­vided good expla­na­tions of the processes, often show­ing mul­ti­ple ver­sions of the same print to show how changes in tech­nique can alter the final product.

Us on the Marin Headlands

Us on the Marin Headlands

The next day, we headed over the moun­tains to the Bay Area to stay with our friends David and Francesca. We had a pretty relax­ing visit — one day hang­ing out in Berke­ley, and one in San Fran­cisco. Among other things, we made a pil­grim­age to the orig­i­nal Peet’s, drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, shopped at the City Lights Book­store (where many of the beat poets hung out, and one of the best book­stores I’ve ever been to), and vis­ited the Legion of Honor Art Museum (more on that in another post). Our one sched­uled event while we were in Cal­i­for­nia was a great one — my mom took us to see Wicked. Veron­ica had seen it before, but the other two of us hadn’t. The pseudo-clockwork set was very cool, the show was funny, and the singers were amaz­ing. The lead roles were being played by the stand­bys, but they were great; except for the pro­gram, I wouldn’t have known they weren’t the regulars.

I didn’t take all that many pho­tos on the trip, but click the thumb­nails above to see my small­ish gallery. I’ll leave you with a pic­ture of Veron­ica behind bars at Bat­tery Spencer, over­look­ing the Golden Gate Bridge:

Veronica Behind Bars

Cave of the Mounds

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Entering the Cave

Enter­ing the Cave

Over labor day week­end, my dad drove up to Wis­con­sin for a visit. Among other things, we hit the farm­ers’ mar­ket, went for a bike ride, and attempted to tour the Cap­i­tal Brew­ery (but, they were closed for a pri­vate event). But, one of the coolest things we did was a visit to the Cave of the Mounds in Blue Mounds, Wis­con­sin. The cave, which has no nat­ural open­ings of sig­nif­i­cant size, was dis­cov­ered in 1939 dur­ing a lime­stone quar­ry­ing oper­a­tion. Quar­ry­ing was halted, the cave was quickly devel­oped, and pub­lic tours began the fol­low­ing year. Though not a huge cave, the tour took about an hour. High­lights included a six-foot long cephalo­pod fos­sil in the cave’s ceil­ing and some inter­est­ing mul­ti­col­ored cave for­ma­tions.

Purple Asters with Bugs

Pur­ple Asters with Bugs

Cave of the Mounds also offers a cou­ple of short above-ground trails, which we walked after emerg­ing from the cav­ern. The trails offered myr­iad beau­ti­ful plant life, lots of insects and spi­ders, and not a few birds. I wasn’t able to get any decent bird pic­tures, but I did get a few good flower and bug pho­tos. Veron­ica gets the buf-spotting prize for the day; she found a katy­did blend­ing in with leaves, a cou­ple of siz­able grasshop­pers, and a bunch of daddy-long legs, all of which seemed quite con­tent to stay put long enough to be pho­tographed. Click here to see all of my above and below-ground pho­tos from Cave of the Mounds.

Also, here are some of my pre­vi­ous wild cav­ing pic­tures taken in Ten­nessee caves: Camp’s Gulf Cave, Indian Grave Point Cave, Cave of the Skulls, and Christ­mas Cave.

Devil’s Challenge

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Team 701 - Musicology Mayhem

Team 701: Musi­col­ogy Mayhem

Yes­ter­day morn­ing, Veron­ica, our friend Patrick, and I par­tic­i­pated in the Devil’s Chal­lenge Triathlon at Devil’s Lake State Park, about an hour north­west of Madi­son. We entered as a relay team — I swam (1÷4 mile), Patrick biked (15 miles), and Veron­ica ran (3 miles). We decided ear­lier this sum­mer that we wanted to attempt a relay triathlon, and had been more or less train­ing since then. We took a trip to Devil’s Lake last week­end to scout out the course and to do a dry run. Still, hav­ing never done this sort of thing before, we weren’t quite sure what to expect on the actual day of the race. We left Madi­son at a quar­ter to 6 yes­ter­day morn­ing so that we’d have plenty of time to park, pickup our reg­is­tra­tion packet, and warm up before the 8 a.m. start. We got there with plenty of time to spare, and set about men­tally and phys­i­cally prepar­ing ourselves.

A Later Swim Start

A Later Swim Start

At the race, indi­vid­ual triath­letes were orga­nized into start­ing waves, largely by age and sex divi­sions. A funny thing about relay teams like ours, though: we were put in the very first wave, which is oth­er­wise reserved for elite com­peti­tors. So, you have the fast, hard­core, expe­ri­enced peo­ple grouped with peo­ple who aren’t up to doing the whole triathlon them­selves. I sup­pose this makes a cer­tain amount of sense; relay­ers are free to expend all their energy on each leg of the race, whereas indi­vid­u­als have to pace themselves.

Swimmers Exiting the Water

Swim­mers Exit­ing the Water

So, I lined up on the beach with the elite ath­letes and the other relay swim­mers. Since we were the first ones to go, all the other ath­letes and many spec­ta­tors were behind us, cheer­ing and mak­ing noise. When the starter horn went off, we all ran out into the water towards the first buoy. Not hav­ing had the chance to observe any starts, I just fol­lowed the peo­ple in front of me. The lake was very shal­low (I could have walked the whole swim course), so the deci­sion of when to switch from run­ning to swim­ming was an impor­tant one. There was a big crush get­ting around the first buoy, then the pack started to thin out some­what. Through most of the swim, I had plenty of room to maneu­ver. After round­ing the sec­ond buoy, I swam shore­wards until the water became too shal­low to get a good stroke. Once on shore, I had to run up a short flight of stairs and sprint a fair dis­tance to where Patrick was wait­ing with his bike.

Patrick Rounding the Last Curve

Patrick Round­ing the Last Curve

I made pretty good time in the water, so much so that Patrick wasn’t quite ready when I arrived. While he threw on his hel­met, I trans­ferred the neo­prene tim­ing chip anklet from my leg to his and ducked out of the tran­si­tion area to find Veron­ica and my towel. After dry­ing off and chang­ing, I grabbed my cam­era, and started shoot­ing pic­tures of other com­peti­tors. When the first cyclist came roar­ing down the final hill into the park, I wished Veron­ica good luck and set off to catch Patrick. From the spot I picked, I couldn’t see very far up the last down­hill curve. But, a cou­ple of pro pho­tog­ra­phers were stand­ing far­ther up the hill, and I used them as an early warn­ing sys­tem; when they reached for their cam­eras, I knew a cyclist was approaching.

Veronica Running

Veron­ica Running

After Patrick came tear­ing by, I went to try to catch Veron­ica at the start of her run. I didn’t get any good pics then, but I man­aged to catch her later at the fin­ish. Once she’d run across the line, we all hung out for awhile wait­ing for the results to be posted. We ended up doing pretty well for our first time out: 9th out of 38 relay teams. We were 6th in our divi­sion (co-ed relays). I beat my tar­get time (8:00) by more than a minute, Veron­ica beat her tar­get by nearly three min­utes, and Patrick came very close to his tar­get (he would’ve beaten it if his front derailleur hadn’t mal­func­tioned mid-race, leav­ing him with only his big chain ring for climb­ing hills). Our final time was 1:26:43. You can see all the results here (they put us under Veronica’s name, rather than that of our team: Musi­col­ogy May­hem). All in all, it was a lot of fun, even if we did have to wake up at 5 a.m.

Click here to see all of my pho­tos from the race. Soon, we should get a link to the pic­tures taken by the pro pho­tog­ra­phers. If there are any good ones, I’ll link to them as well.