Escape to the Ridge

Posted by dkrashb on June 13, 2013

The sun creeps low in the sky, beaming through the trees as we hike

I managed to go to Stringer’s Ridge twice in the same week. Not just in the same week, actually. In 2 days. It started on a whim. I can see the Stringer’s Ridge overlook from my office window. I have been watching (through binoculars) the progress on the overlook. One day, I peered through the binoculars long and hard and thought, “I think they’re done!”

That was the day, being one of the 2 work days in a week that we don’t have a prescribed cuisine, I thought, “we should have a picnic dinner at the overlook.” And so it went. We packed up Tisen’s dinner, threw a couple of beverages in a day pack, and headed to the grocery store to pick up sandwiches and cookies.

A coniferous tree glows yellow in the light from the setting sun amongst greener brethren

We drove up to the overlook as the sun worked its way toward the horizon. We managed to eat with a spectacular view followed by a nice walk through the woods as the sun continued to set. We made it back to the car before dark feeling pretty darn good (less the bug bites).

It was so nice to get out on a Monday evening, I thought we might make a habit of it (yet to be seen).

Tisen is a great trail dog–always checking to make sure Mommy is coming if he gets too far ahead

The next day, the cleaning folks were coming and I needed a place to work where it was quiet. The cleaning crew didn’t arrive until nearly lunch. I managed to get me and Tisen out without interrupting the conference call I was on. This is perhaps one of the most amazing things about technology today. I think back to when I started my first job and felt really special because I had a terminal and a phone on my desk. Flex time meant you could set your start time between 7-9AM and leave 8.5-9 hours later, depending on how long you took for lunch.

I cannot imagine what our department head back then (who thought email could only be used to goof off) would think of a work world where you can be in the middle of a meeting, pack up your office and your dog, head down to your car, start up your own wireless network, get back online and fully participate in the call without anyone knowing you just changed location.

Tisen’s wallow

On another whim, once I got setup in the car, I headed back to Stringer’s Ridge. I drove up and parked in a shady spot, sitting in the car until the meeting ended. Then, instead of spending lunch sitting in front of my laptop working, I took Tisen for a walk through the woods. I found it doubly refreshing to get out in the woods in the middle of the day. Tisen, I think, found it rather stifling. Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought to bring him water. The first puddle we found on the trail quickly became a mud bath for Tisen who sank into it like a wallowing pig.

He made it back just fine, thankfully, just muddy.

I know I posted similar shots yesterday, but the view from the overlook is pretty cool

Half Open?

Posted by dkrashb on June 12, 2013

Downtown looks far away at 28mm

Stringer’s Ridge has had quite a facelift. It appears to be officially half-open, although I can’t tell from the information on the web. It now has official looking metal gates that cross the main trails into the park. One side still has a big orange “park closed” sign. But the other direction has no sign other than “no motorized vehicles.”

There are many mysteries about Stringers Ridge. First, there is the mystery “grand opening” that still does not seem to have happened. When I first heard about Stringers Ridge, I heard the park was going to have a grand opening in October 2012.

Next, I heard it was going to open later that winter. The only sign of progress at the park entrance was a set of new signs telling people the park was under construction and still closed. Next, it was going to open in April. Then it was going to be May. The last post I saw said it would open around Memorial Day.

102mm pulls the Market St and Walnut St bridges into view

The second mystery is what it is that they’re doing that prevents them from opening the park. I confess. I’ve been in the park. I have never seen anyone working in the park. I have, however, encountered both pedestrians and cyclists in the park, which made me think it really was open before they put up signs.

The changes I’ve noticed since last summer have been:

an improvement in the signage–especially trail markers which were numbers on pin tins until recently,
the removal of large piles of garbage that many people must have worked very hard to gather up and haul to a collection point,
the removal of some of the overgrowth,
the removal of some sculptures that I wish they would have left. There was one arrangement of logs that looked like a giant hiker climbing up a hill. I am both befuddled and disappointed that it was removed. It was clever, humorous, and appropriate to the setting,
the addition of a real overlook at the point where some trees were cleared to allow for one of the best views of downtown Chattanooga–if I am disappointed about #4, #5 makes up for it.

118mm makes for a nice view of the aquarium

stillI can understand why they would have wanted the park closed while they were constructing the overlook. What I don’t quite understand is why they seem to be holding the park opening until all the mountain bike trails are completed. At least, I assume that’s what they’re holding for at this point. Why not just mark the trails that are closed as closed and have the grand opening? Parks have trails closed all the time.

Whatever the reason, I’m happy the park is half-open.

The new overlook has two large “boxes” in the middle that make the perfect place for dinner. It’s a really nice overlook. And the view is even better now that the overlook puts you 10 feet out over the edge of the ridge. I can’t wait until the grand opening!

Tisen caught with a mouthful of his dinner on the overlook

To Sunset

Posted by dkrashb on June 11, 2013

The fast-fading glow in the Eastern sky

No energy. That’s me tonight. I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes open since about 8PM. I hope this doesn’t mean I’ve caught something (again). It’s just as likely Tisen is the cause. He is back to scratching all night again. I feel like I did when we last had a puppy–being awakened every hour or so and finally settling down for the best sleep after taking our boy out to go potty in the wee hours of the morning, just before the alarm would go off.

The park fading into shadows

Except there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. We are trying a drug we’ve tried before that helped. We’re trying a new dose because it made him sick the last time we tried it. We’ll see if giving him less helps without the side effects. I feel guilty about this. At some point I wonder how much is about my need to sleep vs ending my dog’s suffering? Should I really be trying to give him a medication that made him sick? And which is worse for him? Scratching and chewing himself until he draws blood or a drug that makes him vomit and have diarrhea? Can’t we have a nice easy route to ending his allergies without side effects?

Only gray is left to the East

In the meantime, I’m nodding off over the keyboard yet again and wanting nothing more than a good night’s sleep tonight. I look at these photos of sunset and think that’s an apt way to describe how I feel at the moment–like the light is fading fast. But, the sun will rise again in the morning and I’ll be blinking, squinting, and, with much resistance, dragging myself back out of bed regardless of how much or how little I sleep.

A bright glow remains in the West

Going to be is far easier. Here’s to sunset!

One final shot of the glowing trail the sun has left behind

Rainbow Moments

Posted by dkrashb on June 10, 2013

Panoramic View of the North Shore and Water Front at 7:30ish

Timing is everything. I could come up with hundreds of stories of how timing made the difference between what was and what wasn’t. Of course, I suppose that is true for every moment in every day for everyone, so perhaps it’s not particularly remarkable.

But there are certain events that occur in a moment and then disappear–you either see them or you don’t–dependent on their timing and yours. Rainbows are a great example of transitory events that occur infrequently enough that most of us are still amazed whenever we happen to witness one.

On this particular day, at 7:30 PM, I had just gotten back from taking a break to walk Tisen. I’d decided to run down to a common room in our building with great views to try out the panoramic feature of my iPhone camera from the balcony.

My 24-70 mm lens just wasn’t wide enough at 8:30ish

I guess I was inspired by the sky while I was walking Tisen, but I don’t remember. The clouds were interesting enough to enhance the panoramic view, but it was too early for any interesting sunset color. So, around 7:30PM, I was out on the balcony taking the panoramic shot above.

After shooting several panoramics and deciding I liked the one above, I returned to my office and went back to work. About an hour later I got a text from my husband telling me to get down to the exact same spot I had been shooting from an hour earlier because there was a huge double rainbow.

Knowing rainbows cannot be counted on to hang out waiting for me to get my equipment together, I grabbed what I thought was my tripod bag, my DSLR with a 24-70mm lens on it. and my iPhone (of course) and left for the common room so quickly, I was half way down the hall before I realized I was barefoot. Not having time to return for shoes, I kept going.

I manage to capture the rainbows with the panoramic feature on the iPhone, but the 2nd rainbow is faint

I got to the clubroom, and immediately realized the bag I’d grabbed was not my tripod bag. Rather, it was a bag of lighting stands. For those of you who are not into photography, lighting stands are not at all helpful when what you need is a tripod–at least not if you need it quickly. Perhaps with enough time and ingenuity, a lighting stand could be rigged into a temporary tripod. But a rainbow is not the time to try this.

So, handholding my DSLR, I took a few shots of the huge double-rainbow visible end-to-end in the sky and realized my second problem–24mm wasn’t wide enough. I couldn’t fit the double rainbow into the frame.

While I got out my iPhone and started taking more panoramics, my husband kindly ran back to our place to grab my tripod and 16-35mm lens for me. He returned in record time. By the time I switched my lens, there was only one strip of rainbow still visible. Maybe next time.

At 16mm, I might have gotten both rainbows, but it’s hard to say for sure

Second Look

Posted by dkrashb on June 8, 2013

Tisen demonstrating he really does know how to pose

Getting from the first overlook at Cloudland Canyon to the second overlook is an easy walk. The path is mostly asphalt and smooth and easy. Since we’ve had a very late spring here, we even got to enjoy some late-blooming Hawthorn trees along the way.

I tried to get Tisen to pose for me as we made our way down the trail. I need to do some more intentional dog training with him. He’s really quite easy to train, but I have found I am very happy with our relatively casual relationship vs needing him to walk exactly where I want or constantly work to figure out my next command. However, whenever Pat is walking him and I want to take his picture, I wish I had taught him a “pose” command.

For a second I thought I shot this at 70mm or so, but it was shot at 24mm–the other side of the gorge is close!

I would like to be able to say, “Tisen, Pose!” and have him turn towards me, doing something cute like stick out his tongue and tilt his head or pick up his favorite toy, and then freeze. As it is, Tisen walks down the path ahead of me with daddy. I call to them to stop. Pat, my accommodating husband, stops, turns, smiles and waits. Tisen, however, continues to face the opposite direction.

Looking out of the canyon and into lookout valley

I, of course, call Tisen to try to get him to turn around. He invariably turns around, looks excited that I want to see him with his tail wagging like mad, and then tries to walk over to me. Pat then tries to get him to come back to him to keep him in position. This, predictably, causes Tisen to turn back around so his back is facing me once more. And so it goes in this constant tug-of-war trying to get Tisen to both face me and stop moving.

Another view of the canyon

Every once in a while, Tisen will pause just long enough for me to get a rapid-fire series of shots off. Usually, in a series of 8 shots, I’m lucky if he’s holding still in one of them. The rest will have various parts of his head blurred. On this particular walk, he managed to pause for me in near perfect position in a puddle of Hawthorn blossoms. He looks so happy; it makes me smile.

Vertical version

On the way to the second overlook, I was teased by a Pine Warbler who, I believe, was following just behind me, singing enough bars to get me to get my long lens in place and then fly just out of sight when I turned around to photograph him. This happens a lot when I happen to have a camera with a long lens on it handy. It’s one of the reasons I often leave the long lens at home.

The second Overlook is my favorite. You can see down both sides of the gorge and off into the distance between the peaks that surround the canyon. The sky usually does interesting things as a bonus–even in mid-afternoon.

Tisen almost walking out of the frame

The First Overlook

Posted by dkrashb on June 7, 2013

Panoramic view taken with the iPhone

This is going to be a short post. I’m writing at 11:15PM on Thursday night. I just finished my “day” job 15 minutes ago (I guess that makes it a “day-and-night” job) and if I try to write my usual 500 words, I’m likely to end up writing this post in my sleep (yes, I’ve done that before–check this out).

Cloudland Canyon is one of those must-see places if you’re anywhere in the area. They have nice facilities including campgrounds, a picnic area with restrooms, an interpretive center, a spectacular view, and lots of great trails, including backcountry trails.

Looking the opposite direction down the gorge

That said, if you are having a low-energy day, there’s also the leisurely walk around the mostly flat path along the cliff top. There are several nice overlooks that always make me feel like the $5 parking fee was well worth it even when the path around the cliff top is the only path I walk that visit.

Looking up the gorge at a rolling valley covered in dense green you can hear a distant waterfall

All of the images in this post were shot from what I think of as the first overlook. It’s only the first overlook if you start with this one. 🙂 I like to park at the far end of the cliff top path and walk uphill around the rim. I don’t know why I like this, but it might be because even when the park is really crowded, there are usually still parking places in this end of the parking lot.

The other reason is because it’s a short walk from the car to the first overlook, so there’s a quick payoff. One drawback is that the restrooms at that end are often closed, so stopping at the first set of newer facilities (in a concrete block building) may be imperative, depending on your situation.

Rocks and trees along the cliff top

A short walk down a dirt path followed by a steep descent down metal-mesh steps takes you to a panoramic view up one leg of the gorge. I, of course, was standing there with my 5D Mark III and my husband’s T4i with a 70-200mm lens on it (don’t ask) hanging around my neck while I stood on the overlook creating panoramics with my iPhone. I sometimes think I should get my husband to take a picture of this with his iPhone just so I can see how ridiculous it looks!

Tisen does not like metal-mesh steps

Mountain Launch

Posted by dkrashb on June 5, 2013

A pilot returning after a 1-year hiatus launches while we watch

There are some moments in life that leave a lasting impression–a shadow of the experience that lives on long past the moment, perhaps even a lifetime. One of those moments for me is the moment I crossed the “Danger! Risk of Falling” line on the launch ramp on Lookout Mountain. It was my first mountain launch as a novice hang glider.

The Danger! line is literally a line on the launch ramp

We have returned to the Lookout Mountain launch a couple of times since that monumental day, but we haven’t been back to fly. It’s been over a year now since I last hooked myself into a hang glider. My husband has remained determined to return “eventually” to flying.

This is the view of the launch ramp that nearly caused me to lose consciousness the first time I saw it

On Sunday, we found ourselves back up on top of Lookout Mountain at the hang gliding launch. Soon, we were inside the office checking on our membership status and filling out paperwork to renew. Then, we realized one of us was going to be out of town every weekend until July. And so it appears we are likely to be celebrating our 18th anniversary on the training hills together. At least, I will be on the training hills. Pat may graduate to the mountain in a day (if hang gliding is like riding a bike), but I have no plans to go off the mountain ever again.

Hang glider pilots are not the only ones equipped to soar the ridge

Of course, I had no plans to go off the mountain the first time either. I just found myself there after getting to the point where I felt confident and comfortable enough on the training hills that it just seemed natural I would run off a mountain with a kite hooked to my body.

Standing there on the launch ramp, looking over the fall line, I found my knees remained solid. I had only a brief wave of nausea thinking about stepping over that line, then, the shadow of the memory, the feeling of the hang glider on my shoulders kicked in. The weight of it lifting in the wind assuring me I could, in fact fly. All I had to do was look at the ridge on the other side of the valley and that’s where I would go.

I switched cameras to catch the hang glider as it pulled away from the mountain.

Then, the memory faded and I looked down and another memory kicked in. The memory of our first trip up to the hang gliding office–seeing the launch ramp for the first time. The sudden terror that overtook both of us thinking we might be launching off that ramp. The physical weakness, barely able to stand in the face of the fear of running off that mountain.

The bib on the launch slopes away from the fall line, making it more probably that if you fall, you’ll fall away from the cliff

The contrast struck me as profound. I am the same person. My response to the same stimulus went from paralyzing terror to confidence (with a few vestigial belly butterflies). Like so many things in life, the launch ramp is what it is. We can respond to it however we choose. As I look over the mountain one more time, I find myself wondering if perhaps, one day, I will launch from this ramp again after all.

Close-up of the flight part logo on the side of the launch

Friday Morning

Posted by dkrashb on June 2, 2013

The moon shines brightly even as sunlight begins to overtake the night sky

It’s Friday morning and incredibly early. Early that is for my recent routine, which has excluded morning biking and rowing ever since injuring my back. In truth, my back has recovered and it’s time to get back on the bike and into the boat, I just haven’t managed to get out of bed early enough.

But today is Friday. And Friday is special. On Friday I get out of bed at 5:15AM whether I feel like it or not. I do this for two reasons. The first is because I have yet to regret it. In fact, each and every Friday that I crawl out of bed at 5:15AM, by 6:30, I’m glad I did.

Friday morning yoga class starts at 6:30AM. We are a small little family of 4, sometimes 5, that reunites each Friday morning (when we’re all in town) to spend an hour breathing, stretching, strengthening together.

The second reason I get up at 5:15AM for my Friday morning yoga class is that it’s my class. I mean, I feel personally committed to this class. It’s not something that exists whether I show up or not; it’s something that exists because I show up.

This is partially factual. The instructor has told us he needs 3 regular students for it to be worth it to him to get up at whatever time he has to get up to drive down from Lookout Mountain in time to beat us all there. And, since he travels a lot, he counts on us to show when he has a sub because it’s hard for him to find a substitute.

And so, feeling both that I know I will enjoy the class once I get there and the sense of responsibility to keep going so that the class doesn’t go away, I rush through my pre-yoga morning routine. I double-up on walking Tisen and drinking coffee at the same time (something I find hazardous and usually avoid) to save 15 minutes. This gives me time to climb the sledding hill with Tisen in tow and take some panoramic pictures before dawn. The iPhone has lots of noise in low-light photos, but I can’t resist capturing the bright moon next to the early morning light.

The other side of the scene–no moon, but dark clouds instead

When I get to class on this particular Friday morning, there are 4 additional students. One has been coming for quite a few weeks now and is at risk of being considered a “regular.” The other three are new additions. It’s nice to have the extra students–it helps reduce the responsibility of being reliable enough to keep the class going.

I finish the class and find myself smiling–one of the common side effects of yoga. I return home to find Tisen lying by the door waiting for me. I take him for a longer walk in the now fully-risen sun. We pause long enough at the riverfront to take one more panoramic photo.

A panoramic view of the bridges and aquarium of the Chattanooga waterfront

Final Point

Posted by dkrashb on June 1, 2013

Moccasin Bend one last time

I have a few photos from Point Park to wrap up on. I shot one last look from the overlook with my DSLR vs a panoramic on the iPhone (which I have rapidly become addicted to). With my 24-70mm lens on the camera, this was as wide as I could go. If I would have stepped back a few feet, I might have been able to get all of the Tennessee River into the frame as it winds its way around Moccasin Bend. But then I would have had more crap in the foreground. Perhaps I will through my 17-35mm lens on the next time we go up to Point Park.

After enjoying the view from Ochs Museum overlook, we headed back up the slightly more rugged trail than the asphalt trail that circles the main portion of the park. Tisen didn’t seem to want to leave the cool shade next to Ochs museum as we made our way back. It wasn’t that hot out, but perhaps it feels warmer to someone wearing fur?

Tisen trying to go the wrong way

The trail heads uphill on the way back. When you walk down it, you don’t realize you’re going downhill. Yet, when you walk back up it, you definitely do notice the uphill. Fortunately, the entire path is well-shaded so even our hot dog didn’t overcook.

As we got closer to the asphalt paved and landscaped part of the park, I noticed a crooked tree highlighted in a beam of bright sunlight. It was perched on the sharp edge of a fallen rock and growing with a 90 degree bend in the middle of its trunk. I had a sudden vision of the rock having once been part of the mountain and this tree deciding it would conquer this rock some day as it spread its roots into every crack and crevice. I imagined this bent and tiny tree feeling victorious for having brought down the rock after so many years of patient growing. I wonder if a tree or water dripping is faster when it comes to carving off chunks of stone cliffs?

The victorious tree

We made it safely back to the asphalt path that circles the landscaped part of the park. We walked slowly around the park, allowing Tisen to sniff and explore as far as his leash would reach. He paused to heed the call of nature more times than seemed physically possible, but you know how male dogs are about marking new territory.

As we waited, a female dog came over with her humans to say hello. After a little doggy socialization, we headed back toward the park entrance. Along the way, I spotted Sunset Rock off in the distance through the trees, looking much further away than I remembered. I smiled sheepishly since I had wanted to walk all the way to Sunset Rock, believing it to be less than a mile from Point Park. Pat gave me a side-ways glance that said, “Less than a mile, huh?”

Random Musings

Posted by dkrashb on May 30, 2013

Pat and Tisen take a turn posing for me amongst a crowd on the way to the point

I don’t have much more to say about Point Park, but I don’t have any other photos, so this is a disconnected blog post–the text has nothing to do with the photos.

A colleague of mine lost his father on Tuesday. His father was relatively young and presumably healthy–he died quite unexpectedly of an aneurism. It’s funny how such a tragedy in someone else’s family can feel like my own tragedy. I guess I can make anything about me.

Up close, I managed to get Tisen looking my way

But this is how my mind works: person dies. Did person who died have a fulfilling life? Were they ready to die? Did they feel like they had done the things they wanted to do in their lifetime? My gosh. I’m going to die. I am not immortal. I have so many things I want to do before my life ends. This person died without warning or symptoms of anything. What if I just dropped dead tomorrow? My bucket list would be left behind, ridiculous in its length.

These moments always serve as a reminder that I’m rapidly approaching the age at which my mother was diagnosed with cancer. On one hand, I am confident I do not have cancer and that I will not have cancer. On the other hand, I find myself puzzled by the notion of finding a balance point between experiencing everything life has to offer and having things like health insurance. In the event I am wrong that I will not have cancer, it would be really helpful to have insurance. And income. Two very helpful things if faced with a potentially life-threatening disease.

I couldn’t choose between the previous shot and this one–Tisen is looking so cute

But if you spend all your time and energy worrying about having things like health insurance and income to cover you and your family in the event you have a life-threatening illness, isn’t it just possible that you create that illness? I mean, the stress and worry and long work hours. Do they not increase the probability of what you most want to avoid coming to fruition?

The back wall of the Ochs Museum at the point looks a little prison-like

On the other hand, if you throw caution to the wind, pursue your dreams and live hand to mouth with no health insurance, what happens then? And it’s not just me I worry about. What if my husband gets sick or my dog? There would be nothing worse than having to watch my dog suffer without being able to do anything for him. Or having to put him down solely because I couldn’t afford to treat what ailed him.

These are the kinds of choices I dread. So, instead, I go to work each morning and I enjoy the other freedoms that comes from having an income and health insurance. But, some days I wonder if a) I am kidding myself about the level of security I really have–it could all go away in an instant, and b) if I were on my death bed, would I regret not having health insurance or not having traveled the continent more?

I was a little too busy framing the foreground rocks to get Moccasin Bend framed properly

nomadicmainstream

Combining living on the road with a mainstream lifestyle

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