Beautiful day on Devilfish Lake

We are heading out kayaking again today! Right now the conditions are foggy on the Lake Superior shoreline but we are headed to an inland lake so maybe it won't be foggy up there. Of course, if it is foggy I won't complain because that could make for some interesting pictures! In the meantime, here is another shot from last week's paddle on Devilfish Lake. I loved this tree hanging over the water and couldn't resist paddling under it to photograph Jessica out in the lake with the tree in the foreground.

Royal Palm

A royal palm, Roystonea regia, in Arizona.

Cumberland Island :: Dungeness

The morning of Sunday, December 27, .. was another chilly, gray, gloomy, overcast morning; the same as the three previous mornings. I had been hoping for at least a little sunshine and a slightly warmer day but, based on its beginnings, I didn't think that was going to happen. Saturday I had gone to St. Marys to check out the town and find out about the ferry going to Cumberland Island National Seashore. Good thing I did, as reservations are recommended!

So the reservations were made, but not paid. I could still decide not to go. However, I figured with the way the weather had been, it was as good a day as any!

After a short drive into St. Marys, then paying the fees ($17 for the ferry and $8 for the National Park Entrance, the latter was covered by my wonderful National Parks Pass), and listening to a short orientation lecture, I boarded the ferry with the other passengers. I was amazed by the number of people with camping gear, it seemed like about half the people on-board were campers. The campsites on the island are primitive. The only facilities available are showers and restrooms and those only in the main campground areas. You're completely on your own in the backcountry. Whether they are staying in the campground or backcountry, everything that is needed by the camper has to be brought in by them and anything they bring in has to leave with them. I'm not quite prepared, yet, for that kind of camping, especially when the temperatures dip down below the 30s overnight!

There was a heated cabin area on the ferry where some passengers sat during the 45 minute ride out to the island but many, myself included, opted to sit outside in the cool morning air. Refreshing is how some might have described it. Most of the day-trippers like myself disembarked at the Dungeness Dock on the south end of the island while the rest went on to the Sea Camp Dock a mile to the north, where it was a short trek to the campground.

In order to learn a little about the history of the island and its inhabitants, I opted to take the Ranger Guided Tour of the Dungeness Trail. I've since found several websites that give more detailed information and they have added considerably to what I learned that day. Links to those websites will be listed at the end of this post. The Ranger who gave the tour was very knowledgeable and entertaining as well.

The Dungeness Trail leads you to the Dungeness Mansion, or rather, to the ruins of the second Dungeness Mansion. The first Mansion, four-stories high and huge, was begun in 1796 by the widow of Revolutionary War General Nathanael Greene and her second husband, Phineas Miller. The mansion was completed in 1803. Shortly thereafter Dungeness became a mecca for the early Georgian high society. After the Civil War the Mansion was not maintained. It fell into disrepair and in 1866 burned to the ground.

About 1880-81 Thomas Carnegie (a brother and partner of Andrew Carnegie) purchased much of Cumberland Island. With his wife, Lucy, Thomas built the second Dungeness Mansion where the first had been. It was a 59 room Scottish-style castle complete with turrets, a pool house, 40 outbuildings, a golf course, and acres of manicured gardens. Thomas Carnegie died in 1886 leaving his wife Lucy with nine children. Over the years, four other mansions were built further north on the Island for use by the children. The house at Plum Orchard has been restored and is open for tours twice a month. It happened to be open the day I was there but I chose to explore the southern end of the Island rather than view the house.

The second Dungeness was used through 1929 then it sat vacant for 30 years. In 1959, it too burned to the ground. All that remains of that magnificent mansion are a few walls, standing like sentinels, guarding the past. Some day, they too will fall.

Left side of the Dungeness Ruins, from the front.

Dungeness Ruins from the front-left corner.

Dungeness Ruins from the rear-left corner.

Dungeness Ruins. Window detail.

The remains of the recreation building.

The Tabby house, which stands off to the right side of the Dungeness Ruins is the oldest house on the Island. Tabby is a kind of concrete made of oyster shells, lime and sand. Built around 1800, it dates from the time of the first Dungeness Mansion. It was the only building in the area that was spared by the Carnegie's when they built the second Dungeness.

To be continued...

See these websites for more information on the history of Cumberland Island and the National Seashore:

• National Park Service
• Outdoor Places
• CNN Article (Posted in 1998, but still valid.)
• Wikipedia

More Blossoms

Ooops!

Seems like I made a wrong turn somewhere in Utah and 1700 miles later have ended up in Indiana!!

The journey isn't over, it has simply been detoured for a little while.

I'll be back...

Here's the easy way to look good at the crag

Get one of these from Red Chili and leave the fashion choices up to the experts. How good would that look on film?Boulder Shirt by Red Chili

Evening Cruise

Both chicks from nest #2 have hatched! Yesterday we spent late afternoon and early evening photographing them as they swam around the lake. Once both chicks are born they don't waste any time leaving the nest and once they leave the nest they don't go back. Heading up today to spend more time photographing them. Nice and sunny right now so I hope it stays that way!

A Sad State of Affairs

.

Not to beat a dead horse, but it just got up and walked around today when the story came out that Mayor Fenty fired the contractor for the Hardy Middle School renovation. I guess it's one of those bad news good news things. The bad news is that Hardy Middle School, formerly Gordon Junior High and my kids' alma mater, is a year behind and a gazillion dollars over budget. The good news? The contractor was fired, but I'd always heard they were doing a good job whenever they could get out from under DC's bureaucracy. The renovations were supposed to be done in stages while the students remained at the school, but with all the delays the decision was made in 2005 to move the entire population out to a swing space so that the project could be completed on time- within a year. My son graduated last June in the half vacant Hamilton School, and this year's class will certainly not be graduating in the new building either. The truth about the delays, I'm sure is in its usual position- nestled down just out of sight, somewhere in the neutral ground between all that finger pointing.

The thing is I still can't help -once again- but look across town to that new baseball stadium.
I love baseball as much as the next guy, but groundbreaking there was in May 2006- a long time after the Hardy project was well under way. Of course it's all politics... and economics and apples and oranges. But can someone explain how all that works to the children of this city?
(And when they are done, could they explain it to me?)


(Hardy' s Moving Day 2006)

Climbing at Rogers Rock: Little Finger (5.5)

(Photo: View of Rogers Rock from Lake George.)



I have long dreamt of rock climbing in the Adirondacks.



But until recently I could never work it out to climb up there at all. It has always seemed impractical. It is too far for a day trip from NYC. And when I get the opportunity for several days of climbing in a row, I always end up picking more glamorous destinations that are further away, like Red Rocks.



This summer, however, I finally got my chance.



My wife's good friend Greg has owned a house on Lake George for the past few years, and we planned a weekend in early July when my family could visit his family there.



As we prepared for this visit, I tried to sell Greg on the idea of climbing with me up the classic 500 foot, three-pitch route Little Finger (5.5), which ascends Rogers Slide, the slabby east face of Rogers Rock. The route would be easy for us both, I told him.



I was really psyched about climbing in such a beautiful setting, on a cliff that rises straight out of the lake. Another bonus is that the route requires an approach by boat. I knew that Greg owns a small motorboat so I thought this would be easy for us to manage as well. I figured it would be a quick ride to the cliff from his house near Bolton's Landing. We could tie up the boat, run up the route, and be be back before our wives and children even noticed we were gone.



Over the months during which I've been proposing this little adventure, Greg has made supportive noises, but I wasn't sure he was entirely serious about doing the climb with me until just before our visit. I told Greg I had a harness, a helmet and a belay device for him, but that if we were going to do the climb he'd need to get some climbing shoes. I was thrilled when he actually went to Paragon and bought a pair of La Sportivas. I could hardly believe it. We were really in business.



Now as you may have gathered, Greg is not a climber, although he has worn a harness before, and has even belayed a few times in a gym setting with an ATC. Prior to our day on Rogers Rock he'd never climbed outside.



When I talked up the climb to Greg, I always emphasized how safe we'd be. I told him he'd always be on toprope, and that I'd build super-safe anchors for us. I also told him that this climb was very easy and that there was basically no way that I would call upon him to catch me falling on it.



I said these things because I wanted him to feel like doing this route with me would be a safe, reasonable thing to do. So I had a selfish interest in saying them: I wanted Greg to agree to do the climb. But I wasn't trying to sell Greg a bill of goods. I really did believe the climb would be easy for us. It is 5.5, after all.



The only hint of concern I had at the back of my mind as I reassured Greg was that Rogers Rock features slab climbing, which is not my strong suit. I have very little experience in slab and I don't feel very secure in the discipline. But the guidebook says that Little Finger is not typical of the slab routes on Rogers Slide, in that it follows a vertical crack which provides great pro and positive holds.



With that information I felt fine about our prospects.



When our weekend visit arrived, it looked like we were going to have perfect conditions. It was rainy towards the end of the week but the forecast was good for both Saturday and Sunday. I proposed that we climb on Sunday so as to have the best chance for dry rock; also we could plan out our logistics on Saturday and prepare. The day before the climb I had Greg try on my spare harness, and I gave him a quick primer on making sure the harness was doubled back. Then I gave him a refresher on belaying with the ATC and told him the few things he'd have to remember on the climb:



1. Feed me enough rope-- do not pull me off of the rock!



2. Never let go of the brake strand.



3. Do not take me off the belay until I say "off belay."



4. DO NOT DROP YOUR ATC!!



After just a little practice I felt like we were good to go.





(Photo: approaching Rogers Rock by boat in the early morning)



We got an early start on Sunday, leaving the Bolton's Landing area by 6:30 a.m. I wanted to get there early to make sure we were the first party on the wall, and to ensure we didn't take up too much of the day.



There was a slight wrinkle that arose from the fact that I know nothing about boats.



I was assuming Greg and I would just park the motorboat somehow and leave it at the base of Rogers Rock. It turns out that this is impractical. Typically people approach by canoe or rowboat and pull the boat up onto the small bit of land that sits at the base of the cliff. Greg's motorboat is too heavy for that, and apparently-- who knew??-- if there is no place to moor the boat it can't just be left unattended at the base. So Greg's wife Peggy had to get up early to drive us in the boat to the rock. (Sorry, Peggy.)



We left our return plan tentative. Luckily there is pretty good (Verizon) cell phone coverage at Rogers Rock. We decided we'd call Peggy later and tell her whether we were going to rappel (meaning we'd need a pick-up by boat) or top out and walk around to the campground (requiring pick-up by car). Greg and Peggy had both heard from locals that people usually top out and walk off after climbing Rogers Rock. Greg preferred the idea of walking off to rappelling, but I was skeptical that topping out would be practical from Little Finger. This idea about walking off was just one of several things they had heard from neighbors about climbing on Rogers Rock, and I didn't have to climb on the rock to know some of the other things they'd heard were false. For instance, they had also been told that the whole route is protected by fixed pitons, a notion I knew to be ridiculous.



I read in the guidebook that the original Little Finger route had gone all the way up, and I saw from the topo that some other less-frequently climbed routes on Rogers Slide do actually top out. But I also knew that Little Finger as it is now typically done stops after three pitches, well short of the top. It is unmarked in the guidebook past the rap anchor atop pitch three. I told Greg that if I saw an obvious scramble to the top I was all for it, but I suspected we'd be rapping off.



The water was calm as we approached Rogers Rock and we had no trouble jumping out of the boat and onto the rocks at the base with my big backpack. I quickly got my rack and ropes out and tossed my pack back into the boat. ("You have to bring all that crap with you?" Peggy asked.) And then, after a tiny bit of engine trouble, Peggy motored away and we were alone at the base of the cliff.





(Photo: My inexperienced but totally trustworthy partner Greg. Reader, I belayed him.)



The start of Little Finger is easy to find. A little to the right of center of the huge slab, the unmistakable vertical crack of Little Finger seems to rise forever. As I stood there beneath it, the angle seemed reasonable and the crack looked very positive. I was very excited to get going. (Peggy later said that in the boat I'd seemed like "a kid in a candy store.")





(Photo: Trying to look heroic at the base of the climb. You can see the vertical crack of Little Finger rising just to my left.)



The first pitch is only 5.4. It is long, though: 180 feet. The guidebook claims, accurately, that after some early difficulties, the angle and the climbing ease as you head up to the anchor.



As I ascended the early bits, I felt a little tentative. A number of things were roaming around in my brain.



I didn't want to burden Greg with too much gear removal, so I tried to limit the amount of pro that I placed, and I avoided placing many nuts. It killed me to eschew the nuts, since the route follows a vertical crack. So I had to place a few. This climb eats nuts! But I tried my best to avoid it. And since I was placing mostly cams, I had to run it out a bit in order to conserve them, which made even easy moves seem serious.



Also, the fall I'd taken just the previous Tuesday on Ground Control (5.9) in the Gunks couldn't help but enter my mind. My confidence was a little shaken, and the two fingers I'd sprained on my right hand were still rather swollen. I tried not to use them. On such easy climbing it was usually no problem, but it still required some mental effort.



Finally, I don't think I was climbing the route terribly well. I'm sure I could have pasted one foot on the slab at all times and comfortably walked up the stupid thing. Instead, since even easy slab climbing scares the crap out of me, I basically crack-climbed it, keeping my hands and feet in the crack almost all the time. This forced my body into positions that, while secure, were likely more awkward than necessary.



Eventually, I just admitted to myself I was a little nervous, stopped and placed a cam, and rested. Then I got over it, resumed climbing, and everything was fine.





(Photo: Looking down pitch one of Little Finger (5.5).)



As I neared the first belay station, at a slightly lower-angled scoop in the rock, I began to really enjoy the climb and the beautiful surroundings. The rock was good and the view was spectacular. There was pro available in the vertical crack pretty much whenever I might want it. The day was pleasant, sunny and not too hot.



I reached the belay and found a fixed cordelette tied to a nut and a couple pitons. I used this station as one leg of a three-piece anchor, adding two cams of my own to make the anchor crazy-solid.



"Greg," I shouted. "I'm off belay."



I watched as Greg took the ropes out of his ATC.



Then he violated rule number 4.



"Uh oh, I dropped the ATC!"



Oh crap.



I envisioned bringing him up and having to give him my device, and then belaying him with a Munter hitch for the rest of the climb. Then I'd have to take the device back, lower him off from the top of the climb, and rap down to him...



"Can you reach it?" I asked. "Did it go in the lake?"



"It didn't go in the lake, but I can't reach it."



We had only about ten feet of rope left to play with, and it wasn't enough for him to walk down to where the ATC was sitting. I had tied Greg in; he didn't know how to tie a rewoven figure eight knot for himself. I didn't see a safe way for him to escape the system and retrieve the device. I was about to tell him to just forget about the device when he came up with the obvious solution.



"I'm going to get out of the harness for a sec and go grab it."



This was perfect. He knew how to double his harness back; he'd done it himself already before we got started. I knew I could trust him to do it right.



Once he got the device and put his harness back on, he did fine. He climbed the pitch and removed all the gear, looking for all the world like someone with much more experience. No falls or hangs.



Pitch two was shorter, 140 feet, with a 5.5 bulge not far off the anchor. Probably I was just more relaxed, but this pitch seemed easier than the first one to me, and Greg felt the same way. I even busted out a few slab moves on this pitch. The early bulge was easily surmounted and then lower-angled climbing led to a small stance below a roof, where there is no fixed gear. I built a three-piece gear anchor in a couple good cracks.





(Photo: Looking down pitch two of Little Finger (5.5).)



Again Greg had no trouble following the pitch or cleaning my gear.



As he followed pitch two I looked at the pitch three alternatives. The usual finish to the climb heads right from the second belay, continuing to follow the vertical crack, diagonally avoiding the roof, and then heading up to the finish. It is another long pitch of 5.5, 180 feet.



The original finish heads straight up over the roof instead of heading right. It is a more difficult alternative, rated 5.7+. The guidebook describes this as the best pitch on Rogers Slide, and says it is well-protected. Once over the roof the pitch heads straight up and eventually moves right to the same finishing anchor employed by the 5.5 finish.



I was aware that some leaders will place a piece at the overhang as a "French free" alternative for partners who are not up to free-climbing the overhang. The second can then pull on the gear to get through the crux. I felt sure we'd have no problem with the roof pitch, but I decided not to push Greg. He was doing very well, and seemed to be hiding any fear he was feeling, but I wanted him to finish the day with an air of accomplishment, not failure. 500 feet of 5.5 was probably a big enough test for him today.





(Photo: View of Lake George from the top of pitch two of Little Finger (5.5).)



So I told Greg I thought we should just do the 5.5 regular finish, and he seemed relieved.



It turned out that the first part of the third pitch, even when you go the easier 5.5 way, is still the crux of the whole route. There is a traverse on good but slabby feet (the mental crux) and then a couple steep steps up (the physical crux) before the angle eases again, leading to cruiser climbing to the finish.



There isn't too much gear for the traverse, but I tried to place as much as I could. I warned Greg about the swing potential. There is bomber gear before you move much sideways (I think I placed two pieces after I left the belay), and then it is a couple steps to the end of the overhang on the right before you get anything again. Before moving upwards through the physical crux moves you can get a great cam over your head. After those moves it is an enjoyable romp up the rest of the way to the bolted final anchor.



I could tell as I was doing the crux moves that this part of the climb might be tough for Greg, so I tried to talk to him about exactly what I was doing as I did it, and pointed out some of the holds I was using.



Once I reached the anchor I could no longer see Greg down below the roof, so I could only cross my fingers and wait. As he began the pitch I breathed easier with each inch of rope I pulled in. After a couple minutes he shouted up that he thought he might fall, but as I looked down I was relieved. I could see his hand, which meant he'd cleared the traverse, so even if he fell there wouldn't be any dangerous swinging. He'd fall a foot or two at most.



And as it turned out he didn't fall. He managed to pull through the crux and finish the climb without a single fall or hang. And, even more amazing to me, we didn't leave any stuck gear. Greg was a great partner. I'd take him along again on a climb in a heartbeat.





(Photo: rapping off.)



From the bolts atop pitch three I could tell there was no easy way to the summit. Up above was a big overhang. It wasn't too far to a bushy gully on the right end of the slab, but it did not appear to me that there was a trail over there.



Once Greg joined me at the anchor, however, I thought it was worth a look, so I had him put me back on belay and I went right to the gully just to check it out. I found a lot of loose rock on the little ledges heading over to the gully. And once at the gully I saw that it is very steep with enormous exposure. It would not be at all difficult to slip and fall hundreds of feet. With no obvious trail to the summit in sight, I went back to the belay and told Greg I thought we should call the wives and tell them to pick us up by boat. We would be rapping off.



And even though rappelling wasn't Greg's first choice, I think it was the much more convenient escape, and a much sexier one besides. Three double-rope raps to the lakefront and a waiting motorboat? That is some serious James Bond action! It sure beats a slog down a long, hot trail to a parking lot.



Later that day at Greg's local beach on the lake, his neighbors seemed shocked and delighted that we'd actually climbed Rogers Rock just like we said we would. Greg too seemed to have had a positive experience. I don't think Greg's climbing shoes will be seeing too much more use, however. He repeatedly described the climb as something he's really happy to be able to say he did once, and only once.



I told him our next target should be Deer Leap, another cliff on Lake George that the guidebook authors describe as the "biggest chosspile in the Adirondacks." With an endorsement like that, how can we resist?

Speechless? Batman Cave!

Not often I am speechless.Nothing to do with climbing. But this is good.










"The narrow cave, no wider than Alexander is tall, is located in Roca Foradada Mountains in Montserrat, Spain—a location that has inspired this professional Italian Norwegian athlete’s flying dream his whole life. Alexander hopes his success will inspire others not only to ‘climb over their mountains,’ but to also fly right through them!"



http://alexanderpolli.com/

Dirt Trails on Skinny Tires?

Earlier today I went on a "welcome back to roadcycling" ride with Fixie Pixie and the route she planned out had us going though some short stretches of dirt trails. FP was riding a Redline cyclocross bike with 30mm tires and I was riding the Moser with 23mm tires.





Now in the past I've been on rides with others where I've refused to go off road on narrow-tired bikes, thinking that surely this was unsafe - at least for someone like me. But for better or worse I've come to trust the Pixie and to agree to whatever she suggests. And so we went.







Riding off road on the Moserwas surprisingly nice. In some ways it even felt easier than the bikes I have with fat tires, and I am trying to understand why. Possibly it is because the Moser is fast and doesn't get bogged down as much. But also, one thing I've noticed about bikes with racy geometry is that they "like to stay upright" more so than relaxed bikes. Maybe this is specific to me and my style of riding, I don't really know yet. But whatever the bike lacks in tire size it seems to make up for by recovering easily in instances where other bikes I own seem more prone to wiping out.






Maybe it is not as much about the tire size as it is about the bike itself - with certain geometries feeling more stable both on and off road? I do not understand the topic well enough to speculate. But it's interesting to discover that I do not need my 42mm tires to have fun and feel safe on dirt trails. Being able to go anywhere on one fast bike is simple and liberating.

Deltaform's Super Couloir

Mt. Deltaform N. E. Face - Lowe/Jones aka "Super Couloir"



Deltaform from the summit of Temple. I decided on that trip I must do the two Deltaform ice routes while descending from Temple. Little did I know at the time that Super Couloirhad yet to be climbed.









By the body count, two of the most deadly climbs in the Canadian Rockies are Super Couloir on Deltaform and Slipstream on Snow Dome. The British alpinist, Dick Renshaw said of Super Couloir, "in foul weather it is more dangerous than the Eiger". The first three parties in the gully all had minor epics of their own, all in marginal weather or snow conditions.





Below: Deltaform in Sept of 2007 withdry conditions.







Ken Glover photo



Below: The snowy and wet conditionsofthe 2nd ascent in July '76











Below: James climbing off the snow arete between couloirs.







Below: This photo is crossing over from the lower gully into the upper gully. Lowe and Jones biviedon a flat stance choppedfrom the snow arete here.Gwain and I chopped off the arete as well and had a brew here in 1976 before the rain really started. In thedry conditions of 2007 it wasa mixed traverse.









Below: Ken's photo in the hour glass of the upper gullyin the dry fall of 2007. A dryFall and the effects of global warming.









Below: James in almost the same position as the previous picture of Ken. The same locationI was inafter just having set a screw when the upper rightcornice came thundering off. Iwas covered in snow and shaken but thankfullyprotected by the rock above my head. Same rock directly behind James' red pack in the picture. 30 seconds and 3 steps later and I'd been blown off and dangling fromthat screw. Gwain, thankfully, was belaying on the lower rib just out of the direct line of fire in the gully.













Below: Looking down the upper right hand ice gully from just below the crux chimney/corner system in '80. Perfect hard ice conditions. At this point it started raining....hard...on us.









Below: Ken's more current photo taken from just a bit higher up and in the left hand gullywith drierconditions.









Below: Ken in 2007 on the more typical, modern traverse out left to Carlos', "new" exit pitch, 5.8.











Below: And looking down thelast pitch (Carlos' "new" winter finish) after the traverse left at the top of the ice.







Not pictured for some reason is theoriginal finish start. It is however really obvious. You just continue up the ice until it ends and a rock chimney begins. Easy to identify as there will likely be a huge snow mushroom stuck in it early season. Late season you'll recognise it by the rock fall coming down the funnel. Thisgash in the head wallisbisected by a small ledge and alcove on the left at half height. The first bit of over hanging chimney is fairly tight with good stemming andoffers a small rock stance off to the left. The second bitis thepitch that exits stage right and finally goes through the ridge cornice, shownbelow.



Below: The second short pitch of the original Super Couloir finish, which Lowe/Jones originally rated 5.9. Tim Friesen climbing in what appears to be "dry" conditions.







Dave Cheesemond photo





July 1976



By the time we got to the chimney that forms the first pitch of the head wall it had been raining for some time and we'd been soaked most of the day. The corner was now a full blown water fall. I climbed up into the corner, got even wetter if that is possible, colder and worse yet, pretty darn scared from the continuous rock fall in there and the snow mushroom coming down, nearly knocking me off. (some how I had been able to forget that small detail until now) We were loosing light quickly and it seemed like we were way, wayout there. Even though I had just done the newroute on the N. faceTemple the week before. This seemed really serious and BIG step up from Temple. Avalanches, rock fall (that was increasing with the rain) and now a long, wet, miserable night out. We chopped out a good bivy ledge 14 feet long and 2 feet wide at the base of the rocks, out of the water fall and rain. We are wet and miserable but it was a decent bivy which sorted a lot out. Thinking the water volume would be less in the morning, it was not, Gwain offered to lead. An alcove off to the left, high in the chimney, made a good belay spot. Pins for the anchor, 2 Leppers that should have been tied off and were not. Gwain stemmed his way up the first pitch without crampons through the water fall and then scratched his way up the second with crampons on through some really bad rock, a mixed bowl, some ice and finally bottomless wet snow over and through what was left of the cornice. The second pitch scared me, no pro, tricky, lots of snow. Gwain later lost some skin on his hands to cold injuries from those leads.



We'd been wringing out our Dachsteins at every belay for two days with water running over the ice.



I don't think I have ever been so relieved emotionally to get off a climb before or since.



We had done it all before, just in more controlled circumstances, when getting off Deltaform's north glacier route the year before.



But the rap (leaving our entire rock rack and some screws pounded into rock as the ropes hung up), the 2nd bivy and the long walk (25K) out of Marble canyon, now in heavy rain, was epic for us at the time. When we hit Highway 93 by Mt. Stanley and hitched back into the park I had blood running down my thighs from my wool knickers and we hadn't eaten in 48 hrs. Looking back it was a grand adventure (almost too grand) and a small price to pay.



I had written a story BITD describing the climb, calling it "Trout Fishing in Canada". That should give you an idea of the conditions we had. Felt like we were swimming up stream the entire climb.



Jim Elzinga and Gerry Rogan had been caught in a storm the previous season, (we didn't know, nor were we counting) spent a few extra days out and been forced on a more direct (and much harder) line above the 1st gully to keep from being flushed off the route. They were eventually picked up by helicopter on the descent. Which we were told checking back in, gave us the2nd ascent of the Lowe and Jone line.



A bit more info from my memory and a recent conversation on the Elzinga/Rogan ascent.



"Rogan's and Elzinga's ascent on Deltaform is just one example of the obvious confusion with the early history of these climbs. What did they really climb? 2nd ascent, new route or rescued while rapping off the route? I read about the "rescue" in the local (Lake Louise) news paper. I distinctly remember having something to eat in Lake Louise, looking at Gwain in amazement and saying..."they didn't actually do the climb but were rescued by a helicopter!" But that was only the local (Banff/LK Louise) news paper, like any news paper, the question remained. What did they REALLY climb? Sounded like a new route up and right of the upper gully to me. The article said 'rescued" by the helicopter. While rapping off? What side of the mtn south or north? While still on the climb coming down or after the climb while descending or picked up on the actual ridge? Mtn #48 reported their climb as the 2nd ascent. Park Warden told us after our ascent we did the 2nd, a full year after Elzinga and Rogan had been on the climb. Who do you believe? More importantly what was the real story behind that climb? I'd bet what they actually did was forced a new variation (unrepeated for obvious reasons) of the route off to the right of the upper gully and then slung off the ridge crest by the rescue effort"



The following is from aconversation with Jim Elzinga in . Funny enough Elzinga and Rogan did do a significant variation of the Super Couloir by climbing straight up from the traverse between the upper and lower couloir in 1975. Rating? Typical Rockies 5.9 A2 all done in a 2 day storm over 3 days of climbing. They were pulled off the ridge by the Tim Auger and the Park's helicopter. This climb really started Elzinga's serious alpine career although he had done a bunch of "serious" things in most climber's minds back though the winter of '71/'72. Gerry Rogan had enough after Deltaform and while he continued to climb, Deltaform was the end of the serious stuff by Elzinga's account.



Gwain and I did Deltaform '76, then Liberty Ridge '78 and went to the Eiger together in '78 among other climbs. We climbed a lot of rock together after '78 but no more alpine. Gwain was always a very gifted, solid climber and amazing athlete in any venue.



With this trip down memory lane I've been searching around for my old journals and things I'd written BITD. "Trout Fishing in Canada" was an interesting read last night, some 35 years later. Never trust the comments of youth while they are basking in the simple glory of survival.



Gwain's comments on his recollections via email 12/22/10



"Looking at those pictures made me real nervous again. The hubris of dumb youth. Most of the climb is a blank to me except for a couple real specific moments that I guess are engraved in my memory for whatever reason.



I remember we bivied off to the leftof the chimney, we were going to do the last 2 pitches the next day. It seems like the bivy was a good ledge, wide enough to sleep lying down and it was semi protected. What I remember from the bivy site was watching a dump truck load of rock come tumbling down right through the base of the chimney where we were standing 30 minutes ago. That was unsettling.



The next day we started up because we couldn't go back and were more or less committed. Crummy or no protection, wet Canadian limestone, stemming. Great sense of relief making it to the ledge on the left.



Belay setup wasn't exactly ideal. Fiddled around with stoppers or anything else I thought would work with not much success. I tried several cracks with the Leppers and they kept bottoming out after an inch or two at best and that was that. Clipped in. I debated tying off but I don't think I had any webbing or anything to use.



Hauling the packs was interesting. Didn't even come close to the face. Free swinging the entire way up. The belay anchors were not that good to hold a fall. I did the best I could to keep a really tight rope and was relieved when you got there. The pins would bend when any kind of weight was put on them.



Chouinard made a mini hand axe. (The Chouinard Climax, which I had previously teased Gwain about how worthless it was!) It was about the size of a wall hammer and had an ice axe head in miniature. I bought that just before this climb and glad I did (it is now lost). I think under better conditions (dry, warm) the last pitch wouldn't have been that horrendous. What I remember is verglas and crampons, no protection, clearing ice for my hands and feet with that Chouinard tool, Millar mitts, not having cold fingers and thinking, 'don't make a mistake'. After the verglas then being faced with some clumsy borrowing through the snow band on top. Just like Lowe/Jones, nothing to anchor to for a belay so I dug a pit and plopped my butt into it. You looked relieved when you got to the top."



Relieved? I had tears freely rolling down my face after pulling the cornice. Gwain gave me a fatherlyhug and said, "it's OK". I was shattered just following.

A short bit from "Trout Fishing in Canada" a short story written in the summer of 1976 about our ascent of Deltaform.



"June 1975...half way up the North Glacier route of Deltaform



Gwain, "You will never catch me on that route, it looks more like a bowling alley than an ice climb."



July 1976.. sitting on the Wenkchemna glacier directly under the Super Couloir.



"Gwian, do you remember your comment last year?"



"Ya"



"What am I doing here anyway"



"The upper gully looks pretty steep"



"They say it isn't over 60"



Finally, after four years of waiting, we were committed. I thought the Lowe/Jones route on Deltaform the most beautiful ice climb in Canada. (and I still do)







Memories of my other attempts and the one success on this face brought back butterflies.



Both of us were procrastinating. We were scared. We both know soon we won't be able to go down as easily as we can go up. Problem is Super Couloir gets harder the higher you get.



We cross the first of the avalanche troughs. I slip! I almost fall off! Gwain doesn't notice. Climbing together. I've got to be more careful. I'm still not sure I want to be here.



We make another traverse across a fair size runnel of water. The amount of water coming down is amazing. We can not hear each other because of the amount of running water beside us. This is a strange mixture of elements. It sounds like a bubbling trout stream.



The route forces us back out to the edge of the water. It is cold! Our mittens get wrung out at every belay. It can not be this wet all the way up. Finally, we are off the first section of ice and a couple more rope lengths lead to the snow arete.



The view is incredible! The slope is 55 degrees on either side. We chop platforms, brew up and have lunch. We'll easily be up and off long before it gets dark.



The upper couloir does indeed look steep. Gwain gets the first lead. You have to be joking! The upper couloir is ice with a couple of inches of water running down it. That makes the climbing easy but not too enjoyable. The couloir narrows at half height. I put in a screw. Then it happens! With a ear shattering BOOOOOM, the summit cornice breaks off! I scream and count seconds as I try to tie Gwain off before the avalanche hits. In moments it is over. I am covered in snow, my are hands cramped........



Nothing to do but climb."



I put in a second screw and bring Gwain up. Short pitch. Short on nerves at this point.



Funny reading this now, experiencing those same long buried emotions. Bit and pieces of memory coming back as I write and reread every one's experiences. Better still to have another30 years of climbingand seeing all the obvious rookie mistakes :)



Super Couloir isn't hard by today's standards or even the standards of the 1st ascent party. We found it challenging in less than stellar conditions for our limited abilities. It is however, one of the classic alpine ice climbs in North America.



More from Gregg Cronn about his early ascent of Super Couloir:



Gregg's comments and story:



"I gave a nervous chuckle when you mentioned it being one of the most dangerous climbs in the Rockies. I had one of the most hair raising epics of my life on that climb. Here is the story...



The summer of 1980 was extremely wet. I wet and cold Spring led to a similar June which led to an extremely wet July. I was working for Yamnuska Mountain School at the time and we had 18 days of rain out of a 21 day trip. Not only did it rain, the high peaks got blasted with snow. It didn't stop snowing and raining until the second week of August. Even then there was no long spell of clear weather that summer. I heard somewhere that St. Helen's blowing its' top contributed to the unusual weather that year. After teaching all summer James Blench and I had some time in early September to do a climb together. The two 'merrycans' working for Yam decided on the Super Coulior of Deltaform. After a four day late August storm, and the summer weather, the mountains were just pasted with ice and snow. That may partially account for the fat appearance of the ice in the photos from 1980.



We started up the lower gully at midnight and soloed all the way to the traverse to the upper gully-which we reached in a glorious sun rise. All the mountains were bathed in pink--a blue haired Mary Kay Saleslady's wet dream. The climbing was the best alpine ice I have ever experienced. We both had Axes and north wall tools (Chouinard zero for me) which penetrated solid Styrofoam ice to the hilt with an easy swing. We swung six wonderful leads of ice climbing up to the head wall which we reached at noon. James belayed me to a stubby Chouinard screw and I launched on to the mixed pitch, excited at the prospect of reaching the sun and tagging the summit after the two short pitches remaining. This was also going to be my first big Rockies test piece and I was psyched to have it nearly in the bag. Twelve hours later I rolled over the ridge cornice, in the dark, so tired, hungry and dehydrated that I was hallucinating wildly and talking to my ice hammer ("please Ms. Mjillnar stay in that ice for me"), completely numb to anything but an overpowering urge to sleep.



The fun started when I fell, 70 feet out right at the crux. I don't remember what caused the fall because my mind immediately went blank. Faced with my soon to be demise at the young age of 20, my brain core decided it was best if my conscious part of my being wasn't witness to what was going to happen when I splatted like an overfilled waterballon on the 60 degree ice below the overhanging crux. Poor James had to watch, like a catcher following a foul ball heading to the stands behind him, as I ripped all the protection and sailed over and behind the belay. I came back to life at the end of 140 feet of rope without a scratch on me and all my ripped protection tingling together in front of me. Dwayne Congdon's borrowed friend, lovingly placed in a bomber crack below the crux, is bent and the cams on one side destroyed.. God truly does love the foolhardy.



You build up quite a lot of speed when you travel through the air for 100 plus feet and my brand new Edelrid showes it. The kern sports a 15 foot long melted metal on plastic burn that Jame's dynamic body belay allowed to run through the screw carabiner as I slowed down. Having checked out for the air show I am in surprisingly good spirits. I have lost my glasses in the fall, so I can now add 20/200 vision to my issues but I am confident that we can still get up the thing. James, however, is totally freaked. He wants to start rapping the route. I convince him to give it, the pitch that I just logged some considerable air time off of and for some reason beyond both of our capacities to understand at the time survived, a shot. Now James is a fantastic climber, one of the best I have ever seen move in the mountains, but after fifty feet he wants no part of the iced up, down sloping, hard to protect Rockies shit show that awaits him over the next 30 feet of overhanging hell. He lowers off. Now what?



Not aware of Carlos's easier variant (the willy bastard took one look at the crux on a cold Feb. morning and immediately headed left), climbed during his winter ascent a few years ago, I am pissed and want off the climb so I set off up pitch again with Jame's top rope speeding my climb to the crux. It took me nearly three hours to climb the crux. It was iced up and hard to protect and, not surprisingly, I didn't want to fall. When I get to the belay, 15 feet below the ridge, I place 7 pieces of protection to build a decent belay. Dwayne's friend gets pounded into a crack like a cheap french pin. Jame's climbs carefully and slowly up, not liking the the sound of my "don't fall" and lets me lead over the cornice when he reaches me. I hacked away for an hour before I could flop my sorry ass over the other side at midnight.



The next morning we start down quickly and slurp water at some drips and head down into the valley on the south of Deltaform, easily reached in a few hours. It takes us all day to walk the 12 miles to the road. My calf's are two balls of cramps from standing on my front points so I have to comically walk backwards up any up hills. When we reach the highway, James stands in the middle of the road with his bandanna flying in an outstretched arm and forces the first car by to stop. I didn't wrap my hands around a rope for nine months. I think it is now called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.



Shows you how bad it gets when it is going so well. If the crux on Deltaform is 5.9 then the crux on Grand Central Coulior is 5.6. Easily the most terrifying piece of ground I ever had to climb in the Rockies!!!



Cheers,



Gregg"



Carlos Buhler on the 2nd winter ascent of GCC.







Gregg Cronn photo



(Gregg did early repeats of the Lowe routes on the North face of Alberta and Kitchener's GCC in winter)



To helpput the current conditions, Carlos' winter finish and modern climbing into some sort of perspective Ken's and Colin's story needs ot be told.



Ken Glover's recollections of his and Colin's climb in 2007:



"Drove with Colin Wooldridge to Moraine Lake parking lot on Sept 15, 2007 at 4am. Reached the bergschrund at dawn, inch of recent snow, minus 3 C. Bergschrund required about 100 meters 4th class scrambling on the left. The main couloir was fortunately silent with no rockfall through the early sunlight hours and the air temperature didn't get above freezing. Great neve conditions eventually gave way to ice as we neared the "cross-over rib" at 2/3 height. We crossed to the lefthand gully over a slabby rock rib, about 5



meters of easy but careful and exposed mixed traversing. The position from this point onwards had great exposure. This upper gully soon split into two and we followed the less-icy more-neve left hand branch, still undecided about whether to attempt the original chimney exit or the easier left-hand finish. At the top of the gully, at the base of the upper headwall, it was obvious that we were too far up and left to get to the base of the original exit without rappelling. This, combined with our anxiety over the nasty reputation of the original exit made us rope up for an exposed leftwards traverse pitch. Colin led this to the base of the first left-facing corner system we encountered. The position was now even more exposed and invigorating. Colin found a decent belay here and I climbed a loose but reasonably well-protected pitch to the ridge, nothing like the stories we'd heard about the original exit. Climbing was on snow-covered incut edges, large enough to climb with hands and thin gloves. I think I took my crampons off for this.



The scramble to the summit was sunny. We spent several hours trying to descend by the 1908 Kaufmann route down the S ridge.to SW bowl, hoping to find a "shortcut" back to Wenkchemna Pass. Ultimately we reascended to the E ridge and down climbed/rappelled to the Deltaform-Tuzo col where it got dark.



Here we turned our backs on the civilisation of Lake Louise and staggered down into the BC wilderness. We trudged for 10 frosty hours through the bush, with many shivering 3 minute naps, curled up in the bush still wearing our packs to stay warmer. Marble Canyon and Hwy 93 was a welcome sight at dawn. After we hitch-hiked back to our car we raced home, I cleaned up and drove into Calgary. I was making mindless comments in a meeting by 11am while Colin slept in his car at a truck stop. We were psyched for a while



after this one, but it was the last alpine route I climbed with Colin before his tragic death in the mountains later that Fall.



Ken



ps. Great shot by Dave Cheesmond of Tim Friesen. It looks great. From the

security of my chair, I kind of wish we'd taken the original exit."



And finally the 1st ascent account by George Lowe



Deltaform North East Face, first ascent account



George Lowe CAJ 57, 1974



“By evening we were under the face.



The face was obviously not in condition. It was plastered with snow and avalanching continuously. Exhaustion and fear kept us from starting in the morning. By midday no big avalanches were coming down so we rationalized our way into starting at 5pm. With winter snow still covering the ice we climbed unroped until the last few pitches before the end of the lower part of the couloir. There we bivouaced, a 5 star site cut into a narrow snow arete flanked by 55 degree slopes.



Morning found us front-pointing up the upper couloir….thin ice over rock, bulges over 60.…always with a good screw or two for protection. Only small chucks of ice came down ass the sun hit the face.



About 12 leads and seven hours later, we were under the top rock band….100 yards below an enormous section of cornice cracked off and disappeared down the couloir where we had been an hour earlier. Another lead and we were under and overhanging chimney seated on a hummock of ice. Off came the summit cornice, crashing out over our heads. Five minutes later down came a large rock fall. Our thoughts could be read in our eyes. Thank God we hadn’t procrastinated another half hour in getting started!



Chris stemmed up loose flakes in the chimney getting bits of manky protection here and there. We had no haul line, so he cut the pitch off at 25 meters. Then I took my turn. The pitch started with some very difficult but good over hanging rock. Then came a groove, not very steep, 65, but with only bits and pieces of protection. Meters of chopping holds, balancing carefully….so carefully….between them. Hours passed in tense concentration until the rope ran out, just as I heaved over the cornice on the ridge. It was the most horrible pitch of my life.



Chris followed on prussik as I anchored the rope with my body, shivering in the wind, wondering if I could hold out until he made it. Then I had to go back down after my pack.



Finally we were (both) on top (of the ridge) at 6:30PM. It had required eight hours to climb two pitches.



By dark we were on the summit.



The next day we raced to get off the mountain before the helicopter came looking for us. We spotted it in the afternoon as we were starting the last rappel off Neptuak. “our bodies are OK” we waved. It is our minds that are bruised. IV (?) F8 or F9. Chris Jones and George Lowe July 8/9 1973 "



as a reference for those interested in such things:

G. Lowe and J. Glidden did Alberta in 1972

G. Lowe and C. Jones did Deltaform in 1973

G. Lowe and C. Jones did North Twin in 1974



Gear Notes:

Gear for steep alpine ice and some moderate rock in boots (5.8 or 5.9) depending on how you decide to finish the gully. A little sketchy for pro via the original rock finish. If you have made it that far it shouldn't be missed IMO. Why bother with second best? Good, cold conditions and weather!



Climb is easily done now in a day...getting off and back to the car may be a good bit longer.



Approach Notes:

A few km up the trail from Moraine lake parking lot.



Descent is complicated and depending on which way you go it can be a really long hike out.



*I know the ice has been soloed several times up and down since 1980 but to date I don't know of anyone soloing the original rock finish.*



Mythanks to Ken Glover, Gregg Cronn and Gwain Oka for the use of their photos and words for this blog piece. Goodto remember guys, thanks!

Tombstone Tuesday :: Christian and Eve Schuder

Christian Schuder and his wife, Anna Eva Christina (aka Eve) Stoever, are my 3rd great grandparents and also my 4th great grandparents! Their grandson Isaac Shuder married their great-granddaughter Nancy Jane Lavering.

Christian and Eve were the parents of nine children: John (1795-1850) married Mary Elizabeth Gephart, Barbara (1797-1865) married Christopher Leighty, Peter (1799-1867) married Rebecca Barbara Huntsicker, Samuel (1803-1878) married Christena Shade, Catherine (1805-1876) married Christopher Leighty after her sister Barbara passed away, Elizabeth (1808-1863) married William Lavering, Daniel (1810-1897) married Justina Shade, Christian Jr. (1813-1885) married Sarah Nancy Huntsicker, and William (1815-unknown).

I suspect that Rebecca and Sarah Huntsicker were sisters or related in some way as were Christena and Justina Shade. The photos below were given to me by my cousin, Caroline Conrad Fawley and were taken in the early 1980s. She has done the research on the Schuder/Shuder family and graciously provided me with copies of her research. (Thanks, Caroline!)

Christian and Eve are buried in Ellerton Cemetery, Montgomery County, Ohio. As always, click on the images for a larger, more legible, version.

IN
MEMORY OF CHRISTIAN
SCHUDER WAS BORN IN
LANCASTER COUNTEY
PENNSYLVANIA. THE 12 D
OF GANHARY IN THE YEAR OF
OUR LORD 1762. DEPARTED
THIS LIFE THE 13TH JULY
1842. AGED 80 YEARS 6
MONTHS AND ONE DAY
EVE CHRISTINA
WIFE OF
CHRISTIAN SCHUDER
DIED
JAN. 6, 1855,
AGED
80 yrs. 11 mo. & 16d.
(the verse at the bottom of the stone is illegible)

Polar Rotation

My friend Roger (http://www.rogernordstromphoto.blogspot.com/) was just here for a weekend visit and we spent some time together photographing the stars on friday and saturday nights. Roger has been interested in learning more techniques for shooting stars, and since I shoot a fair amount of night-time images, he wanted to pick my brain a bit.

We are both armed with Canon 5D Mark II full-frame cameras, which means we have cameras that are capable of producing some stunning night images. While we didn't have the best skies for shooting stars (there were more clouds than I would have liked), we still came away with some fun images.

Top 10 Ways to Bike Uphill without a Helmet while Breaching the Gender Gap

So a few of us were debating what makes a good sensationalist headline in the bicycling blogosphere, and the title of this post seemed just about perfect. Sure, it's missing a couple of things. I considered adding "...while cycling vehicularly on a low-trail bike dressed inRaphaand listening to an audio book of Grant Petersen's the Shoes Ruse." But in the end I decided less was more and went with the shorter version.




And as posts rarely live up to the promise of the titles that lure us to them, I will remain true to this tradition of disappointment by informing you that I will, unfortunately, not be traveling to California at the end of this month. Ithas nothing to do with my preparedness for the ride and I hope to take part in a different AdventureCORPS event in the future;the organisers have been very understanding. Stuff happens and - well, that's all really. I will practice my top 10 ways to bike uphill closer to home for the time being.




One reason sensationalist titles are on my mind lately, is that I've been getting more emails than usual with requests to host "guest posts" from various marketing entities, or to write such posts for other websites, or to embed commission-generating links into my content. I think these people find me because my titles are somehow "SEO'ed" without my realising it or doing it intentionally - a thought that for some reason depresses me. It also makes me extremely self-conscious about providing links to products, businesses, online stores, etc. in my posts, be they sponsors or not. Does it create the (false) impression that I am getting commission from those links? Or do I indeed derive some indirect benefit from it, such as showing the businesses I link to that I can drive traffic to their sites and thus encouraging them to sponsor me? Once I start thinking this way, the whole bike blogging racket starts to feel like one giant minefield and then I need to snap out of it before I can write anything unselfconsciously again.




A little while back a reporter contacted me for an interview and I declined. She responded by demanding that I prove that I am "real" and not a marketing hoax. I was offended and kind of shaken, though in the reporter's defense this was around the time of the "Amina, Gay Girl in Damascus" scandal and the idea of hoax identities was popular. I sent her a polite email with the contact information of a local reporter who had met me in person, and that was the end of it. But it left a bad taste in my mouth, as did meeting some industry people at Interbike later who confessed they'd thought it was my husband and not me who actually wrote the blog while I merely posed for pictures. Ouch?




I am starting to ramble and free-associate, but I guess the common thread for me here is the theme of absurdity. The absurdity of using catchy titles to get people to read bland content, the absurdity of making plans and announcing them, and the absurdity of this blog. I hope my readers not take any of it too seriously. Instead, let's go ride our bikes... regardless of gender, stance on helmet use and approach to elevation.

Dogs Playing in Snow

Spider Web Plumeria

Some strands of spider silk cross a petal of a plumeria.

The Estate of Jacob Switzer :: Amounts Paid to the Estate

There were three men (actually four, another has been found) with the name of Jacob Switzer who resided in Columbiana County, Ohio during the 1805-1860 time period. This estate file is for the Jacob Switzer who is my 4th great-grandfather and who married first Catherine Brinker (in 1811, the mother of his children) and second Leathy Bricker (in 1853). Jacob died on November 2, 1859.

To am't of Sale Bill To am't from Thomas McCoy & Sons on Note To am't from Barbary Manaweck on Note To am't from Daniel Deemer on Note To am't from Jacob Manaweck on Note To am't from Jacob Yarian on Note To am't from John Crowl on Note To am't from Samuel Switzer on Note To am't from Daniel Deemer on Note To am't from J. B. Preston on Note To am't from Daniel Deemer on Note To am't from Jacob Manaweck on Note To am't from Samuel Butz on Note To am't from Geo W. Axe on Note To am't from James Miller on Note To am't from Samuel Switzer on Note To am't from Henry & John Roose on Note To am't from Susan Seachrist on Note To am't from Ann Worman on Note [subtotal] In Interest secured on above notes Total Received	390.3039.14100.001000.00100.00100.0028.8055.00125.0068.00109.52100.00103.48933.2558.00600.00800.0018.008.004412.39481.03$4893.42

Curiosity won - and So did I...

Quite often I get frustrated with using online trees, particularly those on ancestry.com but I continue to use them for clues. And sometimes you get lucky if there are sources attached, which doesn't happen all that much.







At the time I was checking these trees last week, I already had a record of Dietrich's baptism but decided to click through to see what the record was because it looked like a different source than what I had.







I was surprised to see an image. Other records of baptisms I'd seen on ancestry were like the above but without images. I was a bit disappointed because it appeared to be the same document in my files. But I clicked on through anyway.







The above is a portion of the page. The entry for Joh. Dietrich is 3rd from the bottom. Looking at it closely I noticed that his sponsors were different than the record I had. The copy I already had shows the sponsors to be Dietrich Schadler and wife while the sponsors for Johannes (just above Joh. Dietrich) were Joh. Schwenk and Regina! This is apparently another transcription of the records. But how could I know which is correct?



The other thing I noticed, which I've circled in red in the above screen shot, is the number of images for this record set. Curiosity got the better of me and I started “jumping” through the images a hundred at a time. Image 150 looked like a journal or diary as was image 250. But image 350 displayed baptism records written in German Script! I had landed on baptisms for the year 1758 so started going back 20 pages pages at a time. Image 310 was for August 1751 so back one more page and there in the lower right corner was the entry for Dietrich! How cool is that!!







Above is a portion of image number 309 with the year 1751 at the top of the page. The entry for Dietrich is on the second line. It shows that his parents (in the first column) are Michael Hofmann and Maria Engel. The second column shows Joh: Dietrich born 22 June baptized 21 July. In the third column are the sponsors Dietrich Schädler and wife. No, I don't read German but this was, luckily for me, quite legible. And of course, having the transcriptions helps.



If you have an ancestry account and are logged in you can click on this link to get to the full image. There are two pages per image and Dietrich's entry is at the bottom of the second page.



This is part of a larger collection of “Pennsylvania Church and Town Records, 1708-1985” which ancestry added and which Randy Seaver wrote about in January. Being a little more curious, today I took a look to see what all was in the Montgomery > New Hanover > New Hanover Evangelical Lutheran set. You have to have an ancestry.com account to view the images.



“A List of Baptisms from 1740 to 1825 as they appear in the records of the congregation. New Hanover Lutheran” begins with Image 1.



A Diary or Journal begins with Image 141 which is dated 1865 Cheltanham, Montgomery Co. Pa. I didn't take the time to determine the writer. It begins in 1865 and goes through 1893. There were names written throughout. The first few lines of the first image: 6th mo 8 oh 1865. Our wedding day, were married at Germantown Meeting. A warm tho. pleasant day. A good many friends to dinner, more to tea, about 50 beside our family. Our bridesmaids and groomsmen all went home with us and spent the night. They were Enos Laikin and Mary Ann Imes, William Taylor and Mary A. Ogborn, Morris Ogborn & Susan Leattergood.



Miscellaneous Documents starting with Image 267: Permission to microfilm, then documents relating to the incorporation of the German Lutheran Congregation. Some documents in German Script, later ones in English.



Baptism Records in German Script begin with image 280. They start in 1744 and continue through 1878. Marriages begin with image 683 and go from 1809- 1882.



Deaths start with Image 721. The year 1886 is on the first image and 1884 on the last of 10 images so they aren't in any kind of order.



There's a bit of the history of the congregation, lists of Members and Communicants 1855-1919, Baptisms of Infants 1885-1912, Marriages 1887-1912, Burials 1886-1913 with a notation on the last page that there were “500 funerals at New Hanover to date”, more Communicants 1906-1921.



There are 20 images of German Script dated from 1744-1765 appearing to be congregation history and old records as well as several pages of signatures (in German) dated 1765-1790. And finally, Miscellaneous Records in German Script 1766-1796 (marriages, lists of trustees).



It's truly amazing the various types of records found in this data set. Most of them are of no use to me since my ancestors were gone from Pennsylvania by the late 1790s but what I found there (the baptism record of Dietrich Hoffman) is absolutely fantastic!