Event: WCOC BBQ and Meeting
 

Sprint A at the WCOC local meet at the DeWeese estate.

I think this is the first time I've ever logged orienteering (and certainly for the first time for a sprint) as intensity 2, and even that is being a bit generous. But that is better than the alternative, which was doing no training at all.

Was in Litchfield at Mom's, though she wasn't there, well, I mean she was there physically, but other than that she really wasn't there, not much activity between the ears these days. Sort of sad. Would be much sadder if I cared more, but she has been absent for so long, basically my whole life, that it's not like there is some strong bond that I see slowly fading away. Never was much, so the loss is not so much either. But there are obligations to be taken care of, so I do what I need to do.

And my brother came up from Austin, that was the reason for the visit, and his son Daniel from D.C. where he is spending the summer working for the Public Defender office, and his daughter Alex from New York City, where she as part of the Teach America program has been teaching 7th grade in a public school that is 90% kids from the Dominican Republic. So both kids are doing very admirable things, and my brother is rightfully proud of them. (Family photo, including my sister-in-law Donna, an architect, who was swamped at work and couldn't come.)

So anyway, I hadn't been expecting to be able to sneak away to Charlie's for a little orienteering, but I raised the subject in the morning and Alex was interested in going, and nobody was vetoing the idea. So we went, though first of course we had to go shopping for blue duct tape and more Tangle-Trap to rig up some blue caps, version 2. And then after lunch we headed off.

Alex had been orienteering once, maybe a decade ago at Mt. Tom. She is a very good athlete, even more competitive than I am, but with no sense of direction, according to her dad. Charlie suggested that she do the yellow course, which looked quite easy and user-friendly, but I had in mind that she would do one of the sprints, figuring all she had to do was finish and she'd get about 25 points, plus there was e-punching for the sprints only, and I thought she'd like that. So I really gave her no choice, signed her up for sprint B, took about 5 minutes to show her where she was on the map, explained what yellow and green meant, and sent her off. No compass, no legend on the map, no instruction in what contour lines meant. She's tough, I figured, she'll figure it out.

And then I got myself set to go on sprint A. No O' gear with me, so just running shorts, t-shirt, and sneakers, also no compass, no contacts. And the woods at Charlie's are, to be polite, challenging. Unless you love mountain laurel and lush ferns, in which case the woods are wonderful.

So I staggered around the course at a pedestrian pace, wanting neither to hurt myself nor to lose too much blood as the result of my minimal body cover. Missed a little here and there, not too bad, finally picked up the pace in the last 3 minutes to see if I could get in in under 30 minutes, which I couldn't. Oh, well. No injuries and not much blood lost, so a positive experience.

Sprint A map (the one I did).

And then stood around to wait for Alex, and waited, and then thought I'd walk out and see if I could find her, but didn't, and came back and she wasn't in yet, and waited, and was getting quite concerned, and wondering what the hell had happened to my judgment and why I hadn't been happy to send her out on the yellow course. And to avoid just standing there and freaking out even more, I headed out again, but this time I only got a couple hunded meters before there she was, coming in, no worse for wear, just a little pissed she hadn't been able to find #6 despite looking for it for a long, long time.

Overall she was in quite a good mood, seemed like she'd enjoyed it. When we got back to Mom's, she wanted to know how I would have done it, so we pulled the map out and went over it, and talked about what contours show, and so on, and she seemed to understand that pretty quickly, and also seemed to want to go again sometime. Which is very cool. Very, very cool. Would be a great way to connect better. Now we just have to make it happen.

Sprint B map (the one Alex did). Note that the "indistinct trails" are very indistinct.

Sprint A - Splits

Off to Litchfield for the weekend. Feel reasonably crappy. Is the contemplation of the former causing the latter?

Warning -- the following has absolutely nothing to do with orienteering or training, but it's my log and I can write what I want to.... :-)

A wonderful day, one that I had been looking forward to for a long time. Went down to New Haven with Charlie to play a round at Yale, a place I played several times 45 years ago and have fond memories of. It is a fabulous course (a review), bold and adventurous and stunning in both its beauty and its demands on the golfer. And with my new swing, my new D1, and especially my new positive attitude about most everything, I had just a great day.

We get joined at the start by a retired doctor named Mel, a very pleasant guy who's only complaint seemed to be that he couldn't hit the ball as far as he used to be able to. (That's sort of a male thing, can't do whatever as well as I used to. He even wanted to try my phallic symbol, the D1, because it was bigger than his driver, but even that was to no avail....)

And then on the third tee we were joined by Joel, a student at the Yale Divinity School. So I guess we have to watch what we say, I said, but he said anything was all right with him, and he was a very pleasant fellow with a good game. But not such a good game that he doesn't hit his share of bad shots, and it's clear pretty soon that the divinity school training has not yet given him the serenity to deal with it. Outwardly, of course, the worst he will mutter are a few "Gosh dang its," but the pressure is clearly building up between the ears, and it's quite good fun to watch because I've been there so many times.

And the course is amazing, each hole wild, each hole you have to think a lot how you want to play it. Amd I'm doing pretty good. And enjoying it a lot.

One of the holes you can't forget is the 9th....



.... from a high tee across the water to a huge green 64 yards deep with a huge swale about 1/3 of the way back. Plays anywhere form 170 to 225. The pin was front right corner, a little bit of a tail wind, hit a nice 6 iron, heading to the right edge of the green, lost it in the glare but no splash, walked up to the green a couple of minutes later and there it was 20' from the pin. The putt stopped on the rim, but a par is a par, and when a hole has been in your mind for 45 years, and then you play it just right, it is very sweet....

The back nine is one more stunning hole after another. Mel is hanging in there, Joel is outwardly pleasant but the pressure inside is clearly building, Charlie is trying to master the five new things he was told in a recent golf lesson and the result is distressingly close to pure chaos, and I'm have a great time no matter what.

On the 16th, a par 5 and probably the easiest hole on the course, Charlie rolls in a curling 25-footer for a lovely birdie, then Mel knocks one in from about 15' for his birdie. In the meantime Joel has just 4-putted for an 8, and while I'm getting ready to putt I can't help hearing Joel's putter being jammed back into his bag, and then it sounds like the bag has been kicked a couple of times, and I'm laughing to myself so hard that I leave my 7' birdie putt a foot short, but I don't care because I'm having such a good time, even if my game has been quite shaky at times.

And then the fnal hole, a long par 5 up and over a substantial hill, and my chip from just off the green rolls up 6" from the hole, and one last par and an 82 and pretty much heaven.

So we say good-bye to Mel and Joel, and Charlie and I get a quick bite to eat, and then it's time for the rest of my day, first have to get back to Greenfield to sign some more papers for the $1.3 million loan we (the non-profit I'm treasurer of) are getting to rehab an appartment building. And the terms are really good -- no interest, no monthly payments, and the principle is due in 59 years, as long as the property is always used for low-income housing. And in 59 years, well the state will probably roll it over again, but as the lawyer says, by then both of us will be long gone and it won't be our problem if they don't.

And I'm due there by 4:30 so they can get the papers overnight to Boston by tomorrow, because we really need the money, construction been going for two months, but by Hartford I'm starting to yawn, and by Springfield I can barely stay awake, and finally I pull off at a Friendly's in Holyoke to see what I can get to revive me. The problem being that a good shot of caffeine would do the trick, but I'm trying to keep caffeine to a minimum. So I get something called an Orange Slammer (sherbert and soda water and who knows what else), and I'm back on the road and it's cold enough that it really does wake me up, and I get there right at 4:30.

Next to the tax office, I've got an appointment at 5:00, couple married last year that didn't get the expected $3,700 refund back from the IRS because it turned out he hadn't filed in 2001, 2002, and 2004. And he's got the info on what the IRS thinks he earned, which I determine is only part of the picture but that's not fo me to worry about, and then we create three nice works of semi-fiction, well they could be non-fiction I suppose. And got it all done in an hour and a half, and they were delighted, like many of my clients, who leave feeling like they've just had the root canal they've been dreading and it wasn't so bad after all.

And I'm back struggling to stay awake and in comes my 6:30 appointment, and he's a smart guy, makes well over 100K a year, but he hasn't filed since 2003, or maybe 2002, he's not sure. And he has a box of papers with him but his filing system is pure chaos, but after an hour and a half we have a sense of how bad the damage is and a list for him of what he still needs to find. And even though we aren't done, he also walks out looking like he's survived a root canal too.

I close up and head home. It's been raining, it's just about dark. I think about training. Screw it.

C • :-) 7

Flash!

Blue Caps Crush FDFs

Double Shut-out: 13-0 and 10-0

Phil came over around 5 and we rigged up a blue cap for him and then set off on the same route I've been doing, a hike up Toby and then a run back down a more round-about way. Except not wearing a pack (which felt great!), and also running the first section up to the power line.

Now Phil has not quite bought into the idea that the blue caps are a cool fashion statement, something good for one's self-esteem, and certainly not something to feel self-conscious about, even if one were to run into one's dean along the way.



So when we passed a guy and 3 boys playing by a stream, and the guy looked at us and then said something like, "Interesting headgear," I could tell Phil was feeling a little stressed.

Whereas I had figured out exactly what the kids were thinking, "Boy, if our dad wasn't such a dork, we could have cool hats like that too!"

So on we went, a little disappointed that there didn't seem to be any FDFs around, was this going to be Monadnock, part 2, when I think it was Phil looking at my cup and suddenly, Hey, you got a couple!

Was that good for morale!

We reached the power line, then switched to a power walk, still hard work on the last steep part but faster without a pack, 10:45 for the last 650' vertically, that's getting better. And at the top, check the blue cups while we gasp for air, and there are more kills.

And we haven't even noticed any FDFs bothering us at all. It really seems to be working....

And then run back, beautiful late afternoon, the air has dried out, past the hairpin, down the S curves, down the power line with long views to the northwest and not a house in sight, then back down North Mountain to the house. And just once do I feel an FDF brush my cheek, but then it's gone. At no time am I bothered, at no time do I swat at one, at no time am I pissed. It is truly fantastic. And when we reach the house and total up the final results, I have 13 kills and Phil has 10 and we haven't had to do anything. Pure magic!

C • Impressive results 6

A little history of the FDFs....

Was feeling very depleted today so by mid-afternoon, after a fine though financially unrewarding 77, it was time to call in a favorite threesome with powers of recuperation -- first lunch, then a nap, then dinner. At which point I felt remarkably good, and since there was still an hour and a half of daylight left, it seemed silly not to go ahead and do the planned bike ride that I had a few hours earlier written off as impossible.

So I headed off, usual Old Deerfield / River Road loop, with the intention of making it a relaxed ride. Wind was out of the south, so once I got across the river and turned north, it was easy going. And I actually didn't push it. Just enjoyed the evening, especially the lack of traffic even on the couple of miles out on main highways. The rest of the way cars are few and far between, and always courteous, pretty close to cycling heaven I'd say.

And then I turned back south into the wind, and the fact that I'd been cooling it for 30 minutes meant that I was fresh, and warmed up, and I just slowly and steadily put out a little more effort, and it felt good all the way home. Sweet ride, done with 15 minutes of light to spare.

And only because of Gail's comment on my return, Are you wasting away, well, Sugarloaf Frostee, here we come....

Well, Spike is out mowing his lawn, and he's probably an expert at that, because he does it pretty often. But I thought I might share a couple of things that I do to maintain the impeccable lawn we have --

1. Cut it often enough. We've found that when it reaches 18", that's about the optimum time to pull out the mower. A little taller and it gets hard to cut, a little shorter and, well, if you can put off lawnmowing for another week, go for it.



2. The goal, of course, is to have it never reach 18", and then you never have to cut it. The secret here is to focus on growing moss rather than grass, and to do that you have to remember two things -- don't use any fertilizer, and don't use any lime. I know that's tough, but if you concentrate, you can do it. The moss will slowly grown in, the grass will slowly die off, and then you're all set. It also helps if a generation ago, before you owned the land, someone stripped off all the topsoil....

Here you can see another part of the "lawn," hasn't been cut for 6 weeks. Good lawn!

C • moss 6

So I get an e-mail from Barb last Thursday, the start of an exchange of very short messages over the next three days:

Monadnock hike -- Any interest in joining me for a hike up the white dot trail Monday morning starting at 5:40 a.m.?

Sure.

Cool. Do you have any of that sticky spray yet, and blue cups?

Are you thinking we should try out the blue cups Monday morning? If so, then I certainly hope you bring your camera.

Yes, that is what I am thinking.

Is there any reason to expect there will actually be any FDFs out and about? And why exactly 5:40 am?

No reason to expect FDFs. If I start the hike at 5:40, then I can make it to work at 10:00. So maybe we should meet at 5:30 to deal with the cups. If you can handle it.

-------------------------

So I'm up at 3:15, a nice big breakfast (4 pieces of toast and jam, an apple, two scrambled aggs, a glass of OJ, cup of decaf, glass of water, vitamin pills...). And head off just as the sky is starting to lighten. I've already assembled the key ingrediants over the weekend, the bright blue cups, the sticky stuff, and a way of mounting them to the caps. And as long as there are two of us coneheads, well, I don't feel self-conscious at all.

Meet at 5:30. Apply the sticky stuff, on with caps. Not a soul around to laugh at us. Nor are there any FDFs around. As I've said, I think they've heard the rumors.

A very pleasant hike, hard work on the way up keeping up to Barb since I've 17 pounds in the pack (including a pair of ankle weights, headlamp, 3 liters of water, extra clothing, food, a few ibuprofen), you just never know what you might need. A very thorough and well-presented explanation of the whole range of vertical pacing concepts presented by PG, not sure how much of it registered, though I am pretty sure that more of it registered than was the case at 6 am at the rogaine, when I asked Barb to bring me up to speed on genes, DNA, chromosomes, and various other very small things I keep reading about, and she explained a lot and I, well, let's just say I'm not yet ready to take a multiple=choice quiz on the the subject.

And various other topics of conversation, including how long it takes to get to the top, and she didn't know, which really surprised me, but she guessed maybe an hour and 20 minutes up, an hour down.

So we reached the top in 51 minutes. And I was feeling it. Time for photos. And also to check the blue cups for kills. So far I had snagged one lonely mosquito and little bits of leaves and twigs from not ducking enough under a branch. But the cups sure were stylish.


A couple ibuprofen for her complaining knees. And back down at a very mellow pace, about an hour. Talking, among other things, about her kid's school and how cool the education model is, and Barb's plans for O' outings in the fall, when she's planning some new adventures for the kids that she hopes will include me and Jeff Saeger and other "O' gurus." Hmmm.

And then we're down. And she went off to inspect JJ's strawberry patch, and I headed a mile down the road to play a round at Shattuck....

C • All play 1

C • Hat 4

.... where it took me longer than expected to play, because my game was, let's say, shaky, and I had to hit the little white thing quite a few more times than I hoped, and also had to attempt a number of search and rescue operations in the woods, not all of which were successful.

And all the time I'm rewarded with such nice views of Monadnock, and I start thinking, you know, I paid 3 bucks for a trail permit and it's good all day, and it would be possible to knock the cost per round-trip down to a buck fifty....

.... so I head back to the state park, and head up again, this time no pack, and I'm sure quite dehydrated even though I polish off a couple of bottles of water. Zip up to the top (about 1800' net climb, with a couple dips along the way, and very, very rocky) as quick as I can.

Get up there and note that the population at the top has changed substantially from the earlier trip -- was 2 people with an average age of 53, now probably 200 with an average age of maybe 15. Just as glad I don't have my blue hat on now.... :-)

And then back down at a very careful jog, really trying to be careful, and even so within about 200 meters of the top my right foot catches a crack in the sloping rock slab and the ankle rolls more than it wants, and Damn, that hurts, and I'm hopping on the left foot for a few steps.

It's not so bad that I stop, but it twinges on every step, and I'm not happy, and I'm even less happy thinking how far I've got to go down. But this has happened before, and it seems like it's worse than I might wish, but also not so bad as it might be, probably in the category of slowly fading away over the next 10 minutes and then hurting quite a bit the next day. So I keep going, very careful and very nervous now, especially on all the drops, and it slowly gets better as expected, and I don't roll it again, and by the bottom I'm moving pretty well, quite aggressively actually.

But for a moment I thought, it's going to be a long way down hopping on one foot.

Pretty beat by the end, on my feet for 7 hours, but the quads felt good on the downhill. Stopped for a quart of chocolate milk on the way home, yummy, then barely made it back without dozing off.

A fine day....

And, Phil, the blue cups are ready.

Forgot one other thing. On the first trip up and down, Barb was in front setting the pace, me behind. And so I wasn't paying much attention to where we were, or where we were going, just enjoying the company (and trying not to fall over backwards when I lost my footing). All of a sudden we were at the top. And then somewhat later, oh, here we are at the bottom. Almost no recollection of the trail, the terrain, etc.

On the second trip, the powers of observation/concentration were back on, and it felt like I hadn't been there before. And from this trip I have very distinct recollections of the trail, the terrain, etc.

Amazing the difference.

But both very enjoyable trips.

C • How many lines? 3

C • I'm game 8

Event: Paugussett SP Local
 

WCOC local meet at Paugusst. Red course, very fine design by Dave Webber, always interesting. Warm (upper 80s), quite humid, summer orienteering.

Had an ok run. The first priority once again was not to hurt the hamstring, which meant just be more careful, less crashing through stuff, much more cautious on downhills, especially where it was rocky. Mission accomplished in this regard.

Certainly didn't have much energy. Partly the heat, I was sweating like crazy. Partly I wasn't rested. And partly, and surely the bigger reason, was I'm still out of shape. Though making a little progress.

My O' skills were ok at times, a little shaky at others. Got into it sometimes, reading the map nicely as I ran along. At other times that just wasn't happening. Maybe 3 minutes of assorted minor errors.

But still a great pleasure to be out doing it.

Today's map.

C • Coneheads 1

Left Paugusset right after running to head down to Cranbury Park in Norwalk, site of the Sprint Finals in September. Spent a while walking around with Joe (the course setter) talking about the general layout of the courses. Looks like it will work really well. Even have parking, a pavillion, power for the e-punch crew and the loudspeaker, and good spots for the starts and finish, all within about 50-100 meters.

Plan is for the 2 sanctioned sprints, each also 100-pointers for the Sprint Series -- and the point scale may be something like 100, 95, 90, 85, 80, 78, 76, 74, 72, 70, 69, 68, etc., still not decided. So someone a ways behind can still advance quite a bit.

And then a third sprint, a women's course for the top 6 women in the Series, ditto for the men, then both courses open to anyone else (mass start) who wants to see if they can do better. Lots of loops, three-winged butterflies, who knows what else we will dream up....

And then home, stopping to buy a quart of chocolate milk, which Dr. Mark (Hammer's nutritional guru) says is about the perfect post-workout nutrition. It was all gone within a few miles.... :-)

Red - Splits