Here are some photos of March’s Road Scholar ride:
The ride doesn’t seem that long ago, but it’s amazing to see how wintry it looked compared to now.
Here is one last photo; I just liked the looks of this tree at Shawnee:
Here are some photos of March’s Road Scholar ride:
The ride doesn’t seem that long ago, but it’s amazing to see how wintry it looked compared to now.
Here is one last photo; I just liked the looks of this tree at Shawnee:
Happy Pi Day! Here is that post about the steam engines.
The National Museum of Industrial History has a few gigantic, spectacularly beautiful old restored steam engines, some of them even in operating order. I’ve seen the steam exhibit before, but I have been meaning to go back to the museum to see it again, because my friend Donna’s father just helped restore a new one they got. (George is a retired woodworker and very handy.)
That new, and newly restored, addition to their collection is a Colt-Baxter “portable steam engine,” patented by a guy named Baxter and manufactured by Colt Firearms as a way to diversify after the Civil War. The Baxter was “portable” in the sense that it was only as big as a big barrel rather than building-sized; it ran at about 15 psi steam pressure and put out about 10 horsepower, was built to run a belt drive, and was ideal for powering small factories, machine shops etc — they sold maybe 300,000 of them over the years. (I learned all this at the Museum on Sunday, and on the Internet yesterday…)
The museum had a demo day Sunday, where they would power up their Corliss engine — the biggest steam engine they have, and beautifully restored — using compressed air. I figured I’d kill three birds with one stone by riding the Iguana over for a test ride, watching the Corliss in action, and seeing the new Baxter engine on display.
Here’s a video I made of the Corliss:
At about 19 seconds into the video you can see what makes a Corliss engine a Corliss: the spider-web of levers running off a central rotating plate are what control the steam valves that feed the pistons. This engine was used to run a water pump; I’m pretty sure that the black part (the front) is the steam engine end, and the green part at the back is the water pump.
And, here are a few photos I took of the Baxter:
(Along the wall in the background, you can see some belt-driven machines on loan from the Smithsonian, drills and lathes and such, that the Baxter would have powered.) The Baxter had its own furnace/boiler built into the lower section, with the piston inside the top of the “barrel” and the bulk of the machinery on top.
The museum had a few other exhibits, including a few small model engines running, as part of the demo, and one final surprise for me: the Baxter engine was operational! They didn’t have a fire running inside it, it was all compressed air like the Corliss, but here is a video of the operator starting it up:
In all, a banner day!
Anne’s been gone all week, in Denver helping Emmi with Iris while Kyle came here to do some real estate transactions. He went home Friday, and I’ve been living the bachelor life this weekend. I’m right now waiting for Anne’s much-delayed flight to arrive; I’ve got a little time to kill so here’s another post…
These are some pictures I took on a walk a few weeks ago. I was just rambling around, on Sand Island and across the Lehigh bridges, no special agenda but I did get a few nice photos, mostly of the river and of Monocacy Creek.
Not much to say, but here’s a bunch of Iris photos from February. Enjoy! You can almost see her growing, day by day and week by week.
Nothing much to say here, I just thought I’d drop a few photos from the last day or so to show the fall colors. Last night our neighbors had a “roasted root” party, cooking potatoes, parsnips etc in their backyard fire pit, and today is the Halloween Parade; we’ll be doing a bike ride in costume beforehand. Fall is definitely here…
I was at Shawnee last week, and got to spend time with a fox:
It was pretty close to me, and seemed a little too accustomed to people. Rabies? Semi-tame? Stealing food and raiding garbage cans? I don’t know, but apparently it had been in the area for a while and was thriving, which kind of tells me it’s not rabid, or poisoning itself with “people food.” So, good!
I also got some video of it catching dinner:
A few evenings later I saw a family of deer cutting across the back lawn, probably spooked by outdoor events and trying to find a human-free path out of the area:
I also saw a bald eagle last week, at the Nesquehoning Trestle outside Jim Thorpe, but none of my pictures were any good. Still, quite a week!
I just can’t help myself, here are a bunch of photos of my new granddaughter, Iris:
You can see she’s already getting bigger and stronger, here are a few with her eyes open:
And finally some photos with Emmi and Anne:
I got these via text, so the quality isn’t the highest but they’ll do for now — I know I’ll get more soon, and I’ll get some of Kyle with his little girl as well. Meantime, enjoy these!
This is the thirteenth (and last) in a series of posts about our bicycling trip from Jasper to Canmore, via the Icefields and Bow Valley Parkways, through Jasper and Banff National Parks in Alberta, Canada. The full series can be found here.
We stayed at the hostel again for our last night in Canmore. By this time I felt like an old hand, a hostel regular… In the morning we packed up and, since the driveway was under construction (thus inaccessible to taxis), we got a lift down the hill in the little hostel vehicle, or at least our bags did.
At the bottom of the hill we found that no taxis were available anyway, but we got a lift from yet another kind stranger with a pickup truck. Our benefactor dropped us off at the bike shop, where our bikes had been boxed and where they let us stash our bags for a few hours while we waited for the shuttle. We got one last walk around town before we left.
The bike store owner got us to the shuttle stop, the shuttle got us to the Calgary Airport, and the hotel shuttle (barely) got us to the hotel — barely, because their big vehicle was in for service, and we could hardly fit with all our stuff into the minivan they showed up with.
The hotel was busy, because everything was busy with the Calgary Stampede in town (it’s the biggest rodeo in North America), but even so, it was an airport hotel in the middle of nowhere, and there wasn’t much going on. A short walk to a nearby brewpub, and an early night, and an early morning flight for me (Anne’s flight would be the following day). Once again, the flight had some difficulties and delays, but the bike and I both made it to JFK in one piece.
Julie picked me up from the airport, and let me know about the cell phone lot where she’d waited for my flight to arrive. This came in handy the next day, when I drove to JFK and picked Anne up…
…and then we were home. We took a few days to rebuild the bikes, clean and stow our gear, and get rid of those bike boxes, but now it’s in the past. All in all, this was one of the best trips we’ve ever done, “ten out of ten, would do again,” in a heartbeat. I really enjoyed reminiscing, I hope you all enjoyed following along!
This is the twelfth in a series of posts about our bicycling trip from Jasper to Canmore, via the Icefields and Bow Valley Parkways, through Jasper and Banff National Parks in Alberta, Canada. The full series can be found here.
Canmore was the end of the line for our bike tour. Anne and I had plans to stay a few days in town, but Julie would be heading home. We all stayed that first/last night at the Alpine Club hostel, which was beautiful, and which we (Anne and I) would return to later in the week. Some photos I took while I was drinking my morning coffee:
That first photo is a shot of the iconic Three Sisters, and I’m pretty sure that’s Mount Rundle on the right in the second shot.
Unfortunately, this was the end of our travel fellowship — Julie would be taking the shuttle from Canmore to Calgary, where she would catch her flight back home. Here she is with her bike boxed up and her bag packed, waiting for her ride to the shuttle pickup:
Julie had to make her way (with all her stuff) from the bike shop to the shuttle pickup a mile away, but luckily Lyle (our Warm Showers host) had a pickup truck and offered to give her a lift, even though they weren’t expecting to have to host us until around 5:00. This was our first contact with Lyle, and the first but not the last time we got to experience his decency and hospitality.
We would be staying for the next several days in Lyle and Kirsten’s home. Our plan was to arrive sometime early evening so we wouldn’t be in their hair all day, and so Anne and I did some more shopping and explored the town.
We arrived at their home just around dinnertime, and found that they gave us their entire upstairs to use — it was almost a suite, complete with an incredible shower in the bathroom, almost like a cross between a rainforest and a steam bath. They made an incredible dinner, and we all hung out and got acquainted, chatting and comparing notes about biking and other sports, family, and former jobs (we were all retired). They were a very interesting couple. Lyle had been an engineer, but I think he played the game at a higher level than I did, and he’d had postings all over the world. They’d lived in Scotland, Germany, and Vietnam as well as Calgary. He was also a car enthusiast, and something of a gadgeteer, especially when it came to cooking: espresso machine, grill and smoker, sous vide cooker…
We woke up on Saturday, looking for something to do for the day, and our hosts suggested a hike. They had one particular hike in mind, one they liked but the trailhead was not nearby, so they offered use of their car to get there — their Porsche SUV. (They really did treat us like royalty.) Driving a Porsche sounds like fun, but I was terrified of damaging it, and the road to the trailhead turned out to be a twisty, unpaved mountain road, complete with mountain goats wandering around and licking up salt from the road…
Well we made it to the trailhead without incident and started up the hill, though we weren’t 100% sure we were on the trail a lot of the time. I didn’t have my GPS and we had no topo map; all we had to show is the way was a guidebook page on my phone that I’d photographed earlier. The trail, or what we supposed was the trail, was more rugged than we expected, so we turned around before reaching the top. Oh well, but what we did of the hike was well worth it.
For those following along at home, the trail we attempted was the Three Sisters Pass Trail. Some photos:
Anne and I had rented high end, full suspension mountain bikes in town, and once again our hosts hooked us up, this time showing us around the excellent riding near Canmore. The first day we rode from town, and did some trails called Horseshoe and G8, if I heard Lyle correctly.
Anne had mechanical difficulties with her seatpost and went back to the rental place, and Kirsten was dealing with some wrist issues and had to bail, so for a good chunk it was just me and Lyle. We had a lot of fun, but it was all I could do to hold on to the pace — he was fast.
Eventually we looped around, and Anne caught up with us, and we rode a bit more before her cursed rental bike had more troubles. At that point we just rode down the hill to a microbrewery where we met Kirsten. We hung out there for quite a while, and it was cool to see the place fill up with mountain bikers as time went on.
Our second ride took us back out to where we hiked, and we did a point-to-point ride, complete with shuttles, on a section of the High Rocky Trail. We were joined by Lyle’s friend Dave, another strong rider, who also loaned Anne his wife’s bike.
This was a great ride on some twisty, rolling singletrack, very different terrain and soil from back home but still reminiscent of places like Raystown. (Lyle told me that the trails had been made by machine, which would be a lot like Raystown). Dave was, if anything, even faster, and we all had a merry chase up and down the trail, occasionally yodeling and shouting to warn the bears off. This trail sort of paralleled the dirt road, which was next to a long thin lake, and every so often we came to a clearing with incredible views.
On the way back to town we stopped at the Canmore Nordic Centre, where Lyle and Kirsten showed us around. The Nordic Centre is a provincial park in its own right, with mountain bike trails all through the woods, but it’s also their Olympic-level winter sports arena, the one that was built for Calgary ’88. (Lyle and Kirsten, and their kids, are all very athletic, and Lyle is an official in the Canadian national governing body for biathlon, a sort of mix of XC-skiing and shooting.) You could tell they really loved their town, with its bike trails and all its awesome facilities and amenities, and it was a pleasure to have them show it all to us.
We came back to town and cleaned up, and then we all went out for pizza. This was our goodbye dinner with our hosts: we would be relocating back to the hostel for our last night in town. Moving on was a little sad, and they even offered to let us stay that one last night but we’d taken up enough of their time and hospitality, and we knew they had to get back to living their own lives.
Our vacation wasn’t quite over, but it was starting to wind down.
This is the eleventh in a series of posts about our bicycling trip from Jasper to Canmore, via the Icefields and Bow Valley Parkways, through Jasper and Banff National Parks in Alberta, Canada. The full series can be found here.
This was the day we left the parks and the parkways behind, and our final ride day together. We traveled down the Banff Heritage Trail, a bike path alongside the Trans-Canada Highway between the towns of Banff and Canmore…
The bike path was pretty mellow, just a roll down the hill to the next town, and the vibe was a lot like any local rail-trail, with plenty of people doing what looked like their regular exercise and recreational, out-and-back rides. We were back in the real world, except that we were still surrounded by mountains and beautiful scenery, and wildlife was still a thing — Anne even saw a gray wolf at one point. Luckily it was on the other side of the Trans-Canada Highway’s wildlife protection fence, until we went a bit further and passed through a gate, back into the hungry wilderness… But it was a short ride for all that, and before we knew it we reached our final destination.
Canmore had been a coal mining town until 1979 when the mines closed, and reconfigured itself for outdoor sports just in time to be a part of the 1982 Winter Olympics in Calgary — and that’s what put it on the map. It’s a beautiful town, just outside the national park and a tourist destination in its own right — mountain biking in summer, XC skiing in winter — but more charming and less crowded than the towns of Banff and Lake Louise. There was a considerable residential area, and a “real town” shopping district with supermarkets, hardware stores and so on, besides the more touristy “restaurant row,” which was closed to auto traffic and full of outdoor dining, souvenir stands and bike shops. Julie had an appointment at one of them (Outside Bikes) to drop her bike off for packing, and while we were there we got a recommendation for lunch/dinner at their go-to, a brewpub just around the corner. House-smoked brisket sandwiches and cold brews — delicious! After lunch we made our way to the Alpine Club Hostel, our lodging for the night. That was pretty much all she wrote for me, though I think Anne and Julie stayed up a bit later.
Anyway, here are some shots from the day’s ride, and one photo I took from the porch of our hostel: