Paper Piecing the Mariner's Compass

Step 1:  Cut out a ton of pieces.  Paper piecing wastes a ton of fabric, but it gives you really nice points that would otherwise be impossible for people with my, ahem, extensive quilting experience.

 Step 2:  Get the first piece lined up on the paper.  The right side of the fabric goes down; the right side of the paper goes up.  Pins come in handy for a step or two.

Step 3:  Line your second piece up off of the first piece (and even better, off of the first seam you're going to sew).  The second piece should have it's right side facing the right side of the first piece.  (Confused yet?  It took me a while to figure out what youtube was talking about.)  You'll be sewing a seam using the paper's dotted line as a guide.  then you'll be opening the two pieces up so that all the fabric right sides face down while the paper's right side still faces up.

 Step 4:  Sew the seam.

Step 5:  Fold the paper along the seam you just sewed.  Trim the seam allowance back to a quarter inch.

Step 6:  Set the seam with your iron; then press open your stitching.

Step 7 -> Step gazillion:  Repeat en mass until all of your paper pieces are filled in

Step Gazillion-and-one:  Trim the fabric to match up with the paper stencil.

Step Gazillion-and-two:  Start attaching those paper pieces together!

Step Gazillion-and-three:  Admire that incredibly awesome block with all of its perfect points.  Wonder how exactly you managed some of the not-paper-pieced corners.  Start frantically researching how to turn a circle into a square block.

Wausau Whitewater Course + WW Fall Colors

Surfing Tandem Kayak

The past two weekends have been full of pretty good weather and pretty good whitewater (for early autumn).  Sept 21-22 was the final recreational release at the Wausau Whitewater course a few hours north of Madison.  Wausau has over a dozen features (i.e. play waves, holes, etc) that were constructed in a diversion channel just off the Wisconsin River.  It was designed with slalom in mind, and while they do host plenty of slalom training and a few races every year, the recreational releases have to attract the largest number of kayakers (who want to playboat) out of all of their events.  There were hundreds of boaters at Wausau for the final release and that was even after GauleyFest had pulled a bunch of the regulars away.  Who woulda thunk so many whitewater boaters exist in the upper midwest?

Surfing (Pic stolen from a fellow Hoofer)

I've been hoping to get over to Wausau for a few years now, and since my roll is finally where I want it to be, I decided I was ready.  (The main problem with a place like Wausau is that if you swim, you tend to swim the entire course.  While it's a really safe place to swim - lots of fellow boaters, super-clean drops, easy road access - it's not very fun  knocking 15 people off of their waves on the way down.  Anyhow, after a few warm-up rolls, I pulled into the current, and spent the next several hours failing to get into waves very well.  When I shied away, the waves pushed me downstream, and when I went charging in, I got pushed out by the hole in short order.  Not that it's much of a surprise, but I am a really shoddy surfer.  I hope to work on that next season.

Big Drop

Though the morning was brisk, the sun came out around lunch time, and everybody got much more comfy.  We ran a few laps down the length of the course, and while that was spectacularly fun, I got dehydrated and tired pretty quickly.  Next time I'm up there, I'm definitely going to play the eddies around Big Drop (super, super fun) and Little Drop (super, super good for loops and flipping people) more.

Misicot Falls

This past weekend, Ali and I went up with the Hoofers to Piers Gorge on the Menominee River and the Red River near Gresham, WI.  There were enough people (25!), that we ended up splitting into two groups.  The beginner boaters checked out Quiver Falls on the Menominee the first day and the Red on the second.  Advanced boaters got their pick between Piers Gorge on one day or Wolf IV on the other. 
I went up to Piers Gorge last year; it's another park-and-huck section with three rapids within a half mile of river: Misicot Falls, the Two Sisters, and Terminal Surfer.  In the past, I've avoided Misicot.  The 6-10' drop itself is rowdy-looking, but not really that tough.  Just downstream of the drop, the current pushes straight into a nasty, undercut boulder named Volkswagon.  If you flip at the hole in the bottom of the falls, you have one chance to roll and then you're going to slam into the rock.  If you're too slow getting into an eddy, you're going to slam into the rock.  This trip up, I was determined that I would not slam into the rock.
We put on pretty late, thanks to some typical hoofer logistics, and I followed one of the better paddlers down to the lip of the rapid.  The notch we had to hit was pretty easy to find, but I was so focused on avoiding the rock downstream, I let myself get spun around before hitting the big hole below the drop.  I paddled into it pointy-end first (and backwards), surfed out of it, got my bearings, and eddied out on river right before the rock.  Though the ideal line was to catch the eddy on river left, I was still pretty pleased with my run.

Monastery on the Red (Pic from another Hoofer)

Unfortunately, I had zero focus just past Volkswagon and got to practice my roll.  From there, the meaty line of the Two Sisters was great, and Terminal Surfer was easily avoided.
We ran the "gorge" two more times.  I skipped Misicot the remaining few times to save on the hike, and I had a prime seat for a bit of not-as-bad-as-it-could-have-been Volkswagon carnage.  The water levels were rising for (I assume) peak electricity production as the afternoon progressed toward evening.  Volkswagon got padded out, but the Second Sister (which I was having a blast charging through) certainly got stickier.
A bunch of rain moved in just as we headed back to camp, and though we got back at dusk, the other group was MIA, and they had the bulk of our food.  We chopped some stuff and boiled some water, and an hour later, the other group arrived.  We all gorged ourselves on tons of pasta, birthday cake, and anything else lying around unclaimed, and right when dinner was done, the rain tapered off.  We hung out by the fire for a few hours, and a couple of brave souls shuffled the boats and gear for the next day.

Didn't have to do too much of this.  (Pic from another Hoofer)

Sunday, we got on the river late (again), but we divided into groups of 4-5 to speed things up on the river.  Turns out, that's an awesome way to get downstream.  The people who wanted to play got a bit of play, and the people who don't like surfing didn't have to sit in an eddy for hours.  This set-up also helped us get people (like me) leading.  Ali and I were in safety-boating/leading for our group, and it was a ton of fun. 
Though the dam started releasing more water right when we pulled up, flow was still on the low side.  That did make the rapids more approachable for our novice boaters, but somebody with a chainsaw needs to get out and clean up some of the strainers.  First drop was simple, if sticky for surfing.  Second drop was practically non-existant; and Double drop became a really forgiving surf.  The two big rapids of the day, Monastery and Ziemers, were pretty friendly too.

Ali on Monastery (Pic from another Hoofer)

Ali got to go down the entirety of Monastery for the first time, and she even got some surfs and (intentional) combat roll practice at the bottom.  Up to this point, nobody in our group had swum, and the one person who flipped got righted from an eskimo rescue in no time.  Ziemers always has a few swimmers though, and this trip was no different.  The last beginner of my group to head downstream broached on a rock and leaned the wrong way early in the rapid.  We got her safely into an eddy just before the last chute, even if the rescue was a little overzealous on my part.  There was one more swim for us downstream, complements of a narrow chute and an overhanging branch.  Even with those swims, everybody had a safe, fun, and quick end to the weekend.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Lover's Leap

Four months after the fact, we finally headed up nort' for Ali's bday adventure in Pictured Rocks.  Famous as the setting for The Song of Hiawatha and similar to much of the U.P., Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore is glorious.  There are 300+ foot rocks stained by all sorts of minerals (black from manganese, red-orange from iron, green from copper, and white from calcium to name a few), and since the cliffs are largely sandstone, the beaches are pristine and the formations are impressive.

Bridal Veil Falls (from kayaking)

Though we started the 6-ish hour drive from Madison as soon as we could Friday evening, we were stuck in an epic campsite-hunt that kept us up almost to 4am.  There are three nearby forest service campgrounds that take reservations (one of which is on an island only accessible by a 9-5 ferry), but we were hoping for one of the first-come park service sites within the actual Lakeshore property.  All the sites were claimed when we arrived at midnight, and all of the sites at the adjacent state forest were taken, too.  We drove for what seemed like forever to get back to the west side of the park, where we went for a last ditch attempt at a "dispersed" forest service campground.  The road down to the Hovey Lake sites was in miserable shape (at least for our little rental car), and all three sites were claimed.  We drove through again and were headed for the boat ramp to sleep in the car when we remembered reading that Hovey Lake was supposed to have four available campsites.  Lo and behold, 10 meters down the boat ramp drive, there was a parking spot and a picnic table!  We had found our basecamp for a few days!!

Pictured rocks, upholstered rocks...  same difference, right?

Saturday morning, we were up with the chickens (and said chickens are on eastern time in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan) to get into town, get our tires re-inflated, get our backpacking permits for Sunday/Monday, and get to the meeting point for our sea kayaking tour.  Oh, and we also had to find a good spot to pull out our alcohol stove and make breakfast since we were trying to maximize our 3 hours of sleep.  Thank goodness for gas station coffee. 

Kissing Rocks

Once we managed to complete all of our morning errands, we just had to get outfitted and going.  Since we were going through a guide service (waves + stark cliffs + just two not-super-experienced sea kayakers didn't sound good), we ended up with big ol' tandem kayaks and nylon skirts (easier to escape from than neoprene...  also, much more leaky) and ~100 other folks.  They divided us into groups of 5-8 kayaks, but we effectively ruined any group separation there was supposed to be.  Though the morning started out grey and choppy, the sun burned through just in time for our turn-around and lunch.

Mosquito Beach

We got to see some really cool sea caves, "kissing" rocks, baby waterfalls,  and the ever-popular Lover's Leap arch.  Just before Lover's Leap, we were also treated to some crazy teens launching themselves off the cliffs next to this one pock-marked cliff where Ojibwe tribes would supposedly leave enemy chiefs to die in particularly nasty ways. 

Cliff Divers (at the bottom)

Lunch at Mosquito Beach was beautiful and, thankfully, lacking in the beach's namesake critters.  The lake settled in the afternoon, so we got to get really close to the cliffs on the way back.  We had a pretty great swim at the end of the paddle, a good hike around the campground, and a really easy time getting to sleep Saturday night (no thanks to the idiots with some kind of automatic weapon just beyond forest land).

Spray Falls

Sunday, we were up before the sun and were headed to the far side of the park to spot our car for the hike.  We got ourselves together just barely in time for the shuttle, but we managed to get on the trail before 9:00.  The first day, we planned on a rambling 13 miles from the Chapel Rock parking lot, back over to Mosquito Beach, and ending at Pine Bluff (backcountry) campground.  I'm pretty certain that the number of backcountry sites in the park rival the number of frontcountry sites; heck, they may even beat the number of car-camping sites.  We were expecting rain and thunder, and the weather didn't disappoint.  We started off in a super gloom with mild rain.  The canopy sheltered us from the worst of the first storm (out of three, if I remember correctly).  We walked out to Superior along the aptly-named Mosquito River.  Our rain shells helped to shield us from the Minnesota state bird, but lots of DEET and frequent re-applications were still necessary.

Accurate.

There were some nice, miniature falls on the creek we followed, but the best miles were out along the cliffs.  We joined the North Country Trail (a thus unfinished national scenic trail that goes through some of the most bug-ridden parts of WI) out at the actual lake shore.  From there, we got to see Lover's Leap from the east side, Chapel Rock (a really nifty carved out rock that has 3-4 columns and what looks like an altar on top of a pedestal of rock - these columns hold up another platform that's topped by a tree), Grand Portal (a spectacular arch on which we had lunch), Spray Falls (well fed by Beaver Creek), and hundreds of unnamed arches and caves and painted cliffs. 

View from our lunch spot

In addition to the awesome scenery, there were also blueberry shrubs lining the trail - and the berries were at their peak!  We were pretty tuckered out by the time we reached 12-mile beach, but the blueberries were looking even more droopy.  We did our best to ease the bushes' burden all while fueling our last few miles of the day.

 

 

The rain had finally quit by the time we got to camp, but the wind had picked up considerably.  I got our tent set up and kept an eye on our couscous curry while Ali went and bravely flung herself (and our water reservoirs) into the crashing waves of Lake Superior.  Dinner was spectacular, and Tiramisu-Jello (designed by Ali) was a great way to end the evening.  As soon as our food was in the bear locker and our still-sodden clothes were tucked under the fly, we were soundly asleep.

Wind whipping up the waves

Monday's 10-mile hike back to the car was gusty, grey, cool, and much, much faster than Sunday's stroll.  We were in and out of the pine and deciduous patches of woods, hovering by the beach and even more (!!) blueberries than the previous day.  A bit beyond halfway, my ankle started complaining, and an unfortunately chilly lunch made it all the more stiff and uncooperative.  Our trekking poles came to the rescue, and  I hobbled past the first two road crossings without too much trouble. 

Grand Portal from the less-grand side

There was a really cool section of birch forest just past Hurricane Creek.  Though the section of Pictured Rocks we saw was sheltered by Grand Island and largely in a bay, the trees here were as gnarled as some of the woods on less-sheltered Superior coastline.  Unlike certain trees near the Porcupine Mountains' shore, these had an odd sort of majesty.

Falls on the Mosquito River

The terrain was unkind to my weary ankle in the twists and turns near Hurricane Creek, but one more road crossing, and we were back to the beach and our car.  Just as we were packing up, a ranger stopped by to make sure we weren't heading out in such brutal winds.  Hopefully, the hikers we passed mid-trail made it out without incident.

Chapel Rock

A root as big as many trunks connects the tree to the rest of the cliff

150k Dairyland Dare & Wolf River Rafting

Ok, so this is a bit of a placeholder, but a few thoughts:
(1) 150k is a surprisingly doable bike distance, especially when your 10,000ft of climbing is rolling dairyland at completely reasonable 60-70F temperatures.  Also, mist rising off of farmland can be almost as spectacular as certain mountain vistas (another shocker, eh?).
(2)  Wolf Section IV is a great place to raft at pretty much any water level.  It's also a great place to teach rafting.  Some day, I will run Big Smokey Falls with a clean line; it may take a few more tries and some good water.

Black Earth Hilltopper (+ the best bail ever)

This weekend, Ali and I decided to have a nice, relaxed couple of days with each other.  Naturally, that means that we spend the first day of the weekend on an 80+ mile bike ride!  We've got the Dairyland Dare 150/200k ride coming up in early August, and while biking to frisbee games helps, it's certainly not going to be enough. 

We got up way earlier than I was hoping, and hit the road as soon as we could get our lunch from the grocery store.  I was dragging the first 10 miles, but we eventually got into a decent rhythm.  We paused for a snack at a park in Black Earth 20 miles into the ride, and we thought we might be good to do the whole route from there.  The Bombay Bike Club's ride had been relatively hilly (as advertised) by this point, but we knew it would only get worse as we continued toward Blue Mounds (home of the Horribly Hilly Hundred).
There were two pretty staunch climbs on our approach to Blue Mounds that sapped all of our energy.  I was willing to be an ok sport and just keep going, but thankfully, Ali decided there was no way either of us were making it up the final climb to Blue Mounds State Park, so we took a detour over to the rail trail and had lunch.

We saw millions of cornflowers on our ride

Once we were off the original route, we chose to stay on the nice, flat Military Ridge State Trail and coast back into Madison.  Of course, since we were going through Mt. Horeb anyway, we might as well stop at Stewart Lake County Park for a dip.  And, ya know, since keeping to a schedule was no longer an issue, we could always duck into the Grumpy Troll for a pint and some deep fried green beans (delicious, by the way).  As you can probably tell, our decision to bail on the Hilltopper was excellent.  The second half of the ride was incredibly fun and well worth the 45 tough miles it took to get there.

Stewart Lake

We did finish up with 85ish miles for the day; I'm not sure we would have made it too much further, but hopefully, we'll be ready for the Dare.

Deciding to circumnavigate the Mound

Hoofers Go West 2013

The previous five posts document a trip taken by 12 reasonably-to-well experienced Hoofer Outing Club members out in Colorado ("R3s" and up).  The trip was divided pretty evenly between great and not-so-great paddlers, and it was intended to help bring us not-so-great folks up a notch.  (If anything, I might have had a bit more humility pounded into me.  Some of the IIIs that may not have even been IIIs were tougher than the IV-s I've paddled previously!)

You can find info on the rivers we ran at americanwhitewater.org (a great resource for the whitewater community) and info about the club at hooferouting.org.

If you're looking for more/better photos of the trip, try the links below:
Photos from the Trip Leader
Helmet Cam Video
Another Hoofer's Blog

Cache la Poudre (Upper Rustic and Lower Mishiwaka)

Our group made it into the Poudre Gorge around 10pm Thursday evening.  Following a debacle involving a sketchy campground host (who was either senile or running a scam, my  money's on the latter), cars arriving at different times, no cell service, and a delayed food car, we may have set up camp and started cooking by midnight. 

We camped right by the Narrows of the river (some class IV/V+ mank), and we seemed to be right at the top of the old burn line.  Unlike the Royal Gorge area, it was very clear that a fire had impacted the area.  Forest Service personnel have apparently been dumping hay from helicopters and taking on several other rehabilitation projects in an attempt to minimize further damage to the area.

Friday morning, we woke up with the plan to get on the Upper Rustic section of the river (class III/IV).  Looking back at the American Whitewater page, the section was below "runnable" flow by about 130cfs.  We had a slow morning and a tough time finding a non-private stretch of river to use as a put-in, but eventually, we slid into a rocky, strainer-filled river.  The water was dark, and there were clouds overhead, but most of my attention was on getting through the maze of partially-submerged rocks.

At some point, we realized our group of 12 was just too big to navigate such a scrappy river, and we broke into two groups.  Not long after, I experienced yet another bout of poor judgement that resulted in a swim.  I was sandwiched between two great paddlers with a bunch of other people about my skill level, and instead of reading the river for myself, I decided to happily follow the group of people in front of me.  The one problem:  I saw where they were currently floating on the river, but I had been catching an eddy instead of watching how they got down the river.  I blithely followed them river-right of a boulder, into a narrow, shallow passage that I did not successfully navigate.  (Everyone else had gone for the much wider and deeper slot on river left.)  I flipped leaning back, and while I managed to protect my face, my knuckles took a bunch of scrapes.

Mind you, this accident was maybe a half mile into the run.  I decided to pull off since my judgement and abilities were clearly not as good as they should be (and my hand was hurting pretty badly), the leaders shortly encouraged other folks off the river, and after a bit of a scout, nobody wanted to finish the run.  We practiced some more rope team to get the boats up to the road and headed off to Ft. Collins for some choice beverages.

It was not to be.  The rain that started while we were roping boats washed a ton of mud and some really large boulders into the road between our campsite and town.  We returned to camp and ended up hiking and playing cards until dinner.  (It was still a pretty nice, albeit wet, afternoon.) 

On our last day in Colorado, we went down to an easier 3-mile section of the Poudre.  Crews had come through with bulldozers and cleared the road, but we wanted to be close to town and finished early in case the next line of forecasted storms closed the roads again.  After the previous week's bumps and scrapes, I was not half as confident in my paddling abilities.  Though the river was class II and horribly rocky at our level, I was gripping my paddle for dear life the whole run.  (Tightening up is a pretty rookie mistake; if you don't keep your waist and hips relaxed, you aren't able to accommodate the bumps the water throws at you.)

Thankfully, we made it down this stretch with no major problems.  We did break one of the cheap club paddles when it was used to brace a paddler, but the Lower Mishiwaka section was otherwise uneventful.