I was given a skein of “Cocoon Amethyst” by Rare Yarns of New Zealand when I was in Dunedin in September. (Remember the lovely ladies of Twisted Stitch?) I left New Zealand without a pattern, so recently, as I looked at the gaps on my Christmas gift list, I logged onto Ravelry website and found a pretty project for my young friend Grace Julie. It is called “Diamond Lace Mitts” and can be found in a Rare Yarns publication and only requires one skein. I could not find the book, so I emailed Rare Yarns and they sent me the pattern–complimentary.
These mitts are relatively easy and fast to knit. I made these up in two evenings of knitting while lounging with the family immersed in Thanksgiving holiday conversation. I sewed them in about 20 minutes on the plane trip home using my Auntie’s small hands as my model. I like how they turned out and they will keep Gracie’s wrists and hands warm during her German winter. The yarn is delightful to work with and quite strong and the overall effect is very pretty.
I really like Rare Yarns, yet there is only one yarn shop in Maryland (USA) that sells their wool. So I guess I will need to stock up when I am in New Zealand in February.
I remember when I was a kid people talked about “low brow” art and “high brow” art. I thought about this today while in Palm Springs. First we went to see the 25 foot Marilyn Monroe statue on the corner of Tahquitz Canyon and N. Palm Canyon streets. There is a continuous line of people waiting to take their picture under Marilyn’s skirt and almost always one pose is looking up Marilyn’s skirt and mugging.
The sign for the statue says that Marilyn Monroe was “discovered” by an agent in Palm Springs and loved visiting with her second husband Joe DiMaggio. She also owned a bungalow in the 1950s in Las Palmas. The sculpture is by Seward Johnson inspired by the famous photo from the film“Seven Year Itch”.
The sculpture was supposed to be temporary and the time in Palm Springs has been extended several times. It is hard to imagine how the Chamber of Commerce can let her go. Palm Springs already has a walk of fame on the sidewalk with television and film professionals that have a connection to Palm Springs. We also sat beside Lucille Ball’s statue on a bench. There are also multiple tributes to late-Sonny Bono, entertainer, mayor and congressman.
Then we turned our attention to the Palm Springs Art Museum just a block and a half from Marilyn. It is a beautiful building tucked up against the mountains. We were keen to see the “George Caitlin’s American Buffalo” exhibition. It was worth the $12.50 admission price. We were delighted at the anthropological-like precision of the paintings. It was also art–the horses looked afraid as they approached the buffalo in a hunt, and the white wolves looked ghost like. George Caitlin was born in Pennsylvania and travelled to the prairie states in the late 1800s to capture the Indian way of life before it was destroyed by Europeans. Within about 20 years time, the 30 million buffalo were destroyed and with it the livelihood and spiritual connection for Crow, Blackfoot, and many other tribes.
As a bonus, we also gazed at the Richard Diebenkorn exhibit, “The Berkeley Years, 1953-1966.” We did not enjoy that as much as the buffalo, yet I could see the influence he must have had on Sacramento-area artists like Wayne Thieibaud and Greg Kondos.
My brother worked for a few years at the Agua Caliente Cultural Museum while he was getting his PhD, and I always found this small gem of a museum worth a stop. Most visitors to Palm Springs probably are not aware that the town settled on lands occupied by the Cahuilla people. They are known for their bird songs, which are not imitations of birds singing but ancient tales sung during community celebrations. They still own and lease a lot of the land in Palm Springs and their economic tide has turned since the mid-1900s when they lived impoverished alongside movie stars. The museum is right in the heart of downtown and a short walk from Marilyn and offers insight into this tribal community.
I enjoy Palm Springs, but I never think of it as a fun vacation destination. It has always been my brother’s neighborhood so I think of visiting my brother first, and then as a resort. Watching people from the sidewalk table at Peabody’s on the main drag suggests that lots of couples and families enjoy a holiday weekend here.
I am back in Jo Tree (the high desert communities of Yucca Valley, Joshua Tree and 29 Palms) for Thanksgiving at my brother’s house. I collected my auntie J on the way to San Francisco Airport and flew into Palm Springs via Alaska Airlines. (Shout out to Alaska Air for the most complete boarding pass ever: includes destination weather, points of interest, Sodoku, crossword puzzles and a packing list.) We had the best kind of flight: uneventful. We checked out our rental car from Enterprise where the young man attending was very pleasant and thorough–and gave us a free upgrade.
Jo Tree is about a 30 minute drive from Palm Springs airport up into the mountains. We are at about 3,000 elevation and, like the Spring,s the climate is very dry. Yucca Valley is the first of the three communities that string like beads on the 29 Palms Highway. Yucca Valley is the practical town of the the three with the most restaurants, grocery stores and such. Joshua Tree boasts the National Park, and then 29 Palms hosts the US Marine Corp base with about 19,000 soldiers training for desert fighting.
Our hotel, the Best Western Joshua Tree (in Yucca Valley) is very pleasant and affordable. It does have the weirdest plumbing in the bathroom with jet streams that attacked us the first morning. You know the plumbing is overly complicated when they leave a diagram of how to use. The hotel provides a free hot breakfast, which provides some relief to both guests and hosts over a long holiday weekend. At least my brother and his lovely wife do not have to cook us breakfast.
Our Best Western guest binder in our room says this for points of interest: “Here in the heart of our downtown business district, National Park Drive leads visitors South to the park Headquarters and main Visitor Center of this magnificent National Park, where golden eagles soar above massive heaps of boulders and groves of Joshua Trees reach towards the blue vastness above with arms clothed in clusters of dagger shaped green leaves.” Wow. I guess it is not just sports writers who get carried away with hyperbole.
Joshua Tree National Park is 794,000 acres in two large ecosystems depending on elevation: the Colorado and the Mojave Desert. The Mojave section is slightly higher, cooler and wetter (all relative) and is the home of the Joshua Tree, so named by Mormon visitors to whom the groves of immature two-armed plants reminded them of the biblical Joshua reaching up to God.
There is an attraction called Pioneertown nearby. Founded in 1946 to film “B” western movies featuring Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, and Cisco Kid. We will have to check it out on our next visit. Apparently there is a fun bar and restaurant, Pappy and Harriet’s.
Tomorrow we are going to spend time in Joshua Tree National Park. It is definitely the main attraction in this part of the high desert. Yet, we are also only 30 minutes from Palm Springs. We are also going to take a break from leftovers and eat at Las Palmas Mexican Restaurant in Yucca Valley. (Yum.)
Pack layers if you do visit the desert in the winter. The temp in the afternoon may be in the 70’s but as soon as the sun goes down, so does the temperature. It is really great to spend a holiday with family in a place that is so different from home with lots of interesting things to do besides shopping. It is a major bonus when your sister-in-law is also a fabulous cook!
A friend who works as an aeronautical engineer at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in La Canada, California (just above the Rose Bowl near Pasadena) offered to give us a tour of the campus. We said yes!
There is a considerable amount of security, as there should be for a partnership between CalTech and NASA that does research for space and “security programs”. We started our tour at a kind of visitor’s center. We walked past a herd of deer placidly lounging on the grass completely unperturbed.
The place is empty on a Saturday. It is easy to imagine what a weekday might be like with every cubicle full, and engineers conducting experiments in the viewing areas. Our host, John Luke, showed us one area that they use to figure out how to get the Mars Rover unstuck. However, it also looks like the perfect sound stage if you wanted to fake a Mars landing! All the conspiracy theorists who think we have never been to the moon would love it.
I found the organization of the place fascinating from the kinetic sculptures to the tennis court sized area for larger drop tests. I love their motto: Dare Mighty Things. John Luke works on the Mars Landing team. He is very enthusiastic about the designs they are devising to ensure the Rover makes a soft landing.
You do not have to know a rocket scientist to tour JPL. Public tours are available and if funding approves they will resume their annual open house in June. (Like Disneyland for aspiring scientists!)
The Coliseum was rapidly filling with red and yellow-gold clad fans. We joked as we parked next to “USC Surplus” that the surplus was for the millions of different USC shirts we saw fans wearing as they streamed along the sidewalk. In the stadium the diversity was greater: little girls and coeds were wearing song girl uniforms; men and boys were wearing football jerseys; t-shirts with messages abounded, including my favorite, Keep Calm and Fight On!
Campus was packed fountain to fountain with tailgaters, students and alumni–more crowded than I had ever seen, even at graduation. We were all a bit overwhelmed and found a quieter place at the food court near the bookstore to rest for a moment and enjoy conversation before the game.
We joined the throngs headed for the stadium about 4:20. It is normally only a 10-minute walk to Exposition Park, but on this day the crowds slowed to a shuffle and the new light rail metro on Exposition Boulevard added an additional complication.
The official start time was 5 p.m. as the game against nationally ranked Stanford was televised. About then, we sat in the seats we bought through Stub Hub and watched the USC Marching Band perform a pre-game show. I was tickled since I enjoy the band as much (or more) than the football. The clock on the scoreboard indicated that there was about 14 minutes to kickoff. The color guard presented and the band played America the Beautiful and the national anthem.
USC won the coin toss and chose to receive. The clock was reset to 15:00 and we were off on the rollicking ride of Trojan football. It is more active than a Catholic church service, without the kneeling. Stand up, sit down, make some noise, make a lot more noise, stand up again. There were many exciting plays and the jumbo-tron made watching the game easier with replays but sometimes I got caught up watching the screen instead of the field.
The song girls looked great. Our majestic mascot Traveler makes an appearance whenever a touchdown is scored, so he galloped out twice in the first half.
The real excitement for me was at halftime. The rivalry between the Leland Stanford Jr. University “Marching” Band and the USC Marching Band is long standing. The Stanford band is like one big inside joke. Their show was true to non-form. Then our band took the field and put on a show, including the impressive Leland Stanford Junior Countermarch. (link to YouTube video of 2011 performance)
Ultimately, in spite of losing the last 4 games to Stanford, losing our coach mid-season (for the better), cast as the underdogs against the nationally ranked team, the Trojans triumphed with a last minute 47-yard field goal. Pandemonium ensued. The fans deserve some credit for the win as their enthusiasm never flagged.
I am a proud Trojan alumna of the University of Southern California living in Northern California. I have only been to a handful of football games since I graduated and mostly at Cal Berkeley or Stanford. After my 25 year reunion, I decided that if I had the opportunity, I would take my children to watch a game in the Los Angeles Coliseum. Mission accomplished.
The azure sky is so clear we can see a jet stream from a passing plane for miles. The crisp November air and the warm sun, sand and rock are perfect for a climbing lesson for my two sons. We are at Trashcan Rock in Quail Springs, Joshua Tree National Park.
My brother Dean scrambled up the backside to set up the anchor and belay rope and then helped the young men get their shoes and other equipment together. We watched my over-50 brother give us a climbing demonstration. With great concentration and arm muscles tense and bulging, he climbed up the face using his feet and hands. We all mentally compared his physical exertion with our own fitness, and I found myself lacking.
Marcos climbed first. Marcos called out “Climbing,” and Dean replied “Belay on.” Marcos made it look relatively easy. He has climbed before but always in an indoor climbing gym, not on an actual rock. Before too long he was approaching the top.
Tevis climbed next and he worked harder in the beginning to find a way to use his feet more effectively. Learning to climb on a 5.6 face is challenging and each climber took breaks by “falling” and letting the rope hold them.
We relied on Bob Gaines, Best Climbs Joshua Tree National Park in the “Where to Climb Series.” The first climbs were on the east face, “Filch”, which Bob Gaines suggests, “Begin off a boulder. Climb the wide crack to thinner jamming.” Then one of the other routes opened up so we moved around to the west face.
There are 13 routes on the west side. We had time to eat fried chicken while Dean moved the anchor rope, or static line. Tevis climbed B2 next. He worked to stay out of the fissure while still using the crack to help him climb to the top.
Joshua Tree attracts climbers, hikers and picnic eaters from around the globe. Two Belgians were free climbing (no ropes) on other routes near us. A variety of people stopped to watch. It is a calm, relaxing sport to watch—opposite of the intensity felt by the climbing team.
The biggest risk of rock climbing for the spectator is sunburn. Do not be like me—remember your sunscreen. The most common injury to a climber is scraped knuckles, called a gobie. Pack bandaids.
Joshua Tree National Park is 140 miles from Los Angeles and the nearest airport is Palm Springs. Accommodations are more limited and more affordable in Yucca Valley than greater Palm Springs. The park entrance is $15 for a 7 day vehicle pass (bargain!).
Nomad Ventures in the town of Joshua Tree rents shoes and some gear; not harnesses or ropes. I googled “rock climbing lessons, Joshua Tree” and 7 schools came up, so if you do not have a big brother who can teach you, check one of these out.
July 14 is Bastille Day and I am in Lyon looking for signs of the holiday: flags, bunting, fireworks for sale. It is also Sunday and most shops are closed and celebrations appear to be confined to a community fireworks show after dark. Fortunately the trains are running on time and I was able to get up early and catch the 7:30 a.m. train to Givors to watch the start of Stage 15.
This is going to be a brutal day of cycling. At 7:30 I did not need any kind of jacket and it is likely to be 39 degrees (C) in 242.5 kilometers on the top of Mont Vonteux. When my blistered feet bark at me I tell them they could be pedalling up Mont Vonteux and they are silenced.
I arrived at Givors Ville (zhee-vor vee) at 8:00 a.m. and went straight into the heart of the village for a chocolate croissant and coffee. I appreciated that every shop specializes and that they prize quality over convenience as I buy the croissant at the La Patisserie and then schlep across to the coffee bar. At 8:20 I felt braced for the long wait to 10:45 start. I scouted possible viewing sites and the crowd was still light but the railings were already full.
I climbed a low wall and decided my view was just right. The parade started and I did not want to miss any of the fun while looking for a better spot. Everyone around me spoke very little (no) English and my 3 French vocabulary words may have doubled in the last 24 hours but could not support conversation.
The sponsors entertain the waiting spectators with floats and decorated cars and by throwing free hats, energy bars, water, and other sponsor stuff at the crowd. Everyone was enjoying the morning. Thankfully the spot I choose stayed in the shade most of the morning. Personal space means something different in France and my first squeeze in was a from an older man with a cane who sat on the wall (and on my foot). He was so cheerfully trying to talk to me in French even after I said, with a very bad accent “No parlez vous France.” He said “No parlez vous Englais” and happily continued to speak to me in French. The young woman on the other side of me did her best to translate but her English was very limited. No matter. Trying to catch prizes and hooting and hollering for favorite cycling stars is a universal language.
There were several French “artistes” that my next French interloper, who leaped on the wall where I swore there was no space, cheerfully pointed out to me (easy since he was right next to my right ear). I was thrilled to see the great Eddy Merckx, 5 time winner of the TdeF and holder of record for most stage wins. Also saw Bernard Hinault up close. You may have seen him on television. As the director of external affairs he is always managing the podium awards ceremony at the end of every stage. His nickname is “The Badger” and he is the author of our word of the trip: poleaxe. My son Tevis and I watched the Tour in Norway and we saw a brief bio of Bernard Hinault. He is one tough cookie: he rode through a line of striking miners who attempted to block the Tour and leapt off his bike and started swinging. Then a few years ago some protestor thought he would make a statement by interrupting the presentation of the yellow jersey. Hinault did not hesitate and “poleaxed” the protestor (knocked him right off the stage). Tevis liked the word so much that he has managed to use the word everyday so far.
At about 10:10 the bicyclists began lining up and signing in. Then they moved to the starting line. Earlier than expected, at our 10:30 the red light started flashing on the Program Director’s car and whoof! They began the controlled start and were away. Just like that the air was out of the balloon and everyone started packing up, including the pros who are in charge of all of the logistics for this mega event.
With a glow of satisfaction I headed to the train station. When I got there I noticed a group of 3 Canadians looking at signatures on a Canadian flag. Hoping they spoke English I went over and introduced myself and asked them how they got the signatures. One of the them, the young woman in the group, was following the tour for several weeks. She had the most success getting signatures by standing by the area where the riders sign in (and it helps to be a woman as there are few female fans). The guys where were from Manitoba and Ottawa said they had to wear team jerseys and hats to get riders attention. Today they got Dan Martin’s signature, the Irish rider who won an earlier stage. They were so enthusiastic and were having such a good time without paying a bunch of money for special credentials. Made me start thinking about future years…
Back in Lyon I wanted to find a place to watch the rest of the Tour with English commentary. So I asked the desk clerk if she could recommend an Irish Pub. She wanted to argue and say they would not be showing the Tour in English. I just asked her to mark the map and I would take my chances. Here I am at Johnny’s Kitchen (Irish pub restaurant) watching the Tour on BBC EuroSport sans air conditioning.
It is hot here so I cannot imagine what it is like on Mont Vonteux that looks like a moonscape and is known for its wind. Add a million CRAZY fans and Bastille Day. I pity the riders. The nasty part of the climb is the last 20 kilometers and the BBC announcers expect Chris Froome (UK, Team Sky) to kick butt. I hope he does. I like his quiet modesty. There are not as many American fans here and fewer American riders. The drug scandal that rocked Lance Armstrong’s world took out most of the experienced American riders as well. They are out for the season or retired.
In preparation for the trip I started reading Tyler Hamilton’s autobiography. It is a demoralizing read and scary to see what people will do to their bodies (or ask their athletes to do) in pursuit of competitive victory and cash. Mt Ventoux has been mixed up with drugs historically. A Frenchman, Jean Mallejac, collapsed and later recovered in 1955 due to amphetamines. And this is the mountain where Tom Simpson died due to drug use in 1967; the determined cause amphetamines and alcohol. In 2000, Lance Armstrong and Marco Pantani raced to the top fueled by doped blood.
I suspect that this haunted finish did not dampen my enthusiasm because even with drugs this race is a brutal test of human endurance. For example, today’s climb is 1512 meters over about 20 km. At 20 km marker, Sylvain Chavanel is the first of the breakaway to cross. No one expects him to beat Froome, Quintana, Contador and Valverde. The gap is already closing.
Oh my gosh, Chris Froome has thrown down the gauntlet at 7 km and pedaled away like he was on the flat. He is superhuman. Only Quintana is with him at 3 km. Contador has battled back to just 30 seconds behind but the rest of the GC rider are more than a minute back. The BBC announcers are over the moon. They say the toughest part is yet to come. What? Stairs?
Contador has fallen back to 51″ at 1.6 km. Who will win the stage? Will Quintana and Froome battle for the finish? No gifts today, Froome just took off at 1.3 km. Froome did it! He beat Quintara by 31″ and Contador by 1’40”. It will take a lot longer for everyone to finish. EPIC day.
Post Script: The next day was a rest day and Chris Froome was buffeted by questions at the morning press conference about possible drug use. It seems a bit unfair to be accused without any evidence, such is the legacy of the cheaters.