Dave and Lisa Kayak the North Fork River

In the third weekend of September, David and Lisa came for a brief visit. Basically, they had three days of fairly steady rain, but they were able to squeeze in a kayak trip down the North Fork River. Below the dam the North Fork is very cold and has become a nationally famous trout-fishing stream, so a float down it always includes a chance to see plenty of decked-out fishermen--often in the process of reeling in a big one. Usually one can also see many fish, a few happy herons, and the occasional bald eagle. This fall there were also plenty of wildflowers in bloom--though their names escape me at the moment. The accompanying snapshot shows David and Lisa as they were about to set out on their float.

While they floated the river, Sue and I biked in the area. We both warmed up on River Road, which runs for four miles along the bank of the White River. It's a very pretty ride--both because of the river with its dramatic bluffs and because a couple of the home-owners are enthusiastic and successful gardeners whose yards are always luxuriant and colorful. Sue stayed below in the flatlands while I completed my ride by climbing Matney Mountain. Matney is one of the best climbs in northern Arkansas--two miles uphill culminating on a ridge that provides lovely expansive views of the Ozark National Forest spread out below. The downhill cruise is fast and fun taking me to the 40 mph range that I try to maintain as my upper limit. Any faster and I start to get very scared.

Because of the plentiful rain, the four of us entertained ourselves playing ping pong on the table that I built from plywood siding salvaged from residing sections of our home in Jonesboro. Note the steady red-eye focus as David gets the ping-pong ball perfectly centered on his paddle.

Ordinary Adventures

Not all memorable adventures require extraordinary effort.

Yesterday afternoon Sue and I decided to cartop our kayaks over to nearby Hand Cove Landing. On the brief drive down the lane, we passed two twin fawns, standing on the road's edge, unperturbed by our presence.

After putting our kayaks in the water, we paddled over to Sandy Island. The shores of Norfork Lake are mainly composed of limestone ledges and rocky strands, but near Hand Cove Landing there are several ample stretches of glistening sand which are capable of sustaining the illusion that one is on a Caribbean Isle. Sandy Island is a great place for a quick swim.

After rounding the island, we paddled along Jordan Cliffs. The ledge at the top stands fifteen or twenty feet above deep water and is often used for diving. At one point a hole in the ledge leads to a twisting cave that descends to an opening slightly above the water line. It's a tight squeeze which I, despite some interest in caving, have never tried.

The composition of the rock along this section of the lake is endlessly fascinating. Much of it is stratified shale which often breaks off--here there is a block of a size to be used in constructing Washington's Monument anew, over there one sees a scattering of thin plates suitable for paving stones, dinner plates, or guillotine blades. Then there are sections of the cliff where fist-sized stones seem cemented together by some natural mortar. Finally, there is a column of twisted rock rising from the water, like something formed from molten lava.

In a cove past the edge of the cliffs, we reached a further unusual geological phenomenon. The rocks here are like gigantic weathered blocks, rounded at the corners, but fitted together like massive paving stones. Some of these stones have been eaten away from below and stand on the backs of others like three-legged turtles. Very strange.

From Jordan we paddled across a narrow bay toward another cove with a sandy beach. As we were nearing the beach a flight of geese--perhaps a dozen in all--glided down, not fifteen feet above us, to skid to a stop on the surface of the reflective waters. Then, no more than five minutes later, a mature bald eagle sailed high overhead.

It was a perfect adventure in our ordinary lives.

Perception

What do you see when you look at the picture above? To me, it looks like a falling fox, ears streaming back from the speed of the fall. Our cabin is made of wood and there are lots of knots and swirls in which I can easily imagine that I see many things.

I now realize that I have been doing something similar in my push-up routine. I have been working toward 100 push-ups for more than a year and in the last week I got to where I did 98 in my first set. Almost there! I rested four days and set up our camera so that I could record myself as I made my first serious attempt at the big goal. I wasn't too surprised to fall a bit short with only 95, but I was surprised when I watched the play-back of the short video. I knew I wasn't doing perfect form push-ups, but I hadn't realized they were that bad. Over the months I had perfected a method of doing push-ups that required very little movement at all-- arms spread too widely, vertical movement too minimal. So I had been deceiving myself, believing what I wanted to believe.

Here is another example-- but not such a disturbing one:
That's a shot of my bicycle odometer taken early this spring. The bottom line shows the total miles, and when I look at it, I like to think it reads 99,999 miles. In fact, it is only 9,999.9 miles. Still, that's a real milestone--the first time I had ever "rolled-over" the odometer on any bicycle. (I've ridden a lot more miles than that, but usually the battery gives out on the odometer and it gets reset before rolling over.) Equally deceptive is the second line of the odometer which supposedly shows my maximum speed on the bike--70.8 mph. I've no idea how that reading showed up, but it is about 30 mph faster than I have ever gone on the bike!

Anyway, my reality check about push-ups means that I'll go back to a more balanced and less obsessive upper-body workout. I may never get to 100 push-ups, but I will get stronger.

Pushing On

A picture says 1,000 words. Here are three pictures about my progress in the "100 Push-ups" challenge.

The top graph shows the total for my five sets of push-ups on the y-axis and the date on the x-axis. The graph shows my progress from early December through early August. The slope for the total is clearly increasing over time, but the slope for the all-important first set up push-ups almost looks flat.

I've broken the first set out in the third graph. It, too, shows a gradual slope upward, though it is less clear that progress is continuing--and can continue--to be made. I hit 50 first-set push-ups in early December. By early January I was at 60. I didn't hit 70 until mid-March and 80 in mid-June. Since then progress has been slow. . . . I think I can get to 90 on a good day, but 100? I just don't know.

Biking BATS

Every year--usually in early July--my wife and I load up the two cats and make the fifteen hour drive to Northern Wisconsin. By that date the thermometer in Arkansas is usually bursting its top, and it is a great relief to dangle a foot in the recently unfrozen waters of Trout Lake. Since we live in a post-and-beam cabin in the Arkansas Ozarks and my mother's guest house is also a post-and-beam cabin, the adjustment in lifestyle isn't substantial, but switching from the prevailing oak forest of Northern Arkansas to the prevailing pine woods of Northern Wisconsin does bring welcome sensory impressions. A good general impression of the lavishly-laked and heavily-wooded terrain is provided by the satellite view above.

Another delightful aspect of a vacation in Northern Wisconsin is a result of the beautifully paved roads that meander through the entire area, financed by sky-high property taxes. For avid cyclists, this is biking heaven--something obviously noticed by the Boulder Junction township elders who have had the foresight to establish the Boulder Area Trail System (BATS). There are roughly eleven miles of paved trail running from Boulder Junction down along the east side of Trout Lake and then east to Crystal Lake. This entire ride is stunningly beautiful, with expansive views of Trout Lake and Crystal Lake and plenty of places worthy of a stop and further exploration. Not to be missed is the short trail out to Cathedral Point near the mid-point of the Trout Lake section. Cathedral Point is a famous picnic spot at the narrows of Trout Lake. The tables are sheltered by massive pines and the views take in the entirety of one of the most beautiful lakes in Wisconsin. Another nice feature of the ride is the roadside wildflowers.

Click on the small photo at right to see a larger picture of the paved trail and a profusion of "Butter-and-Eggs."

The BATS trail system connects with similar trails from other nearby townships, so that a great web of interlinked biking trails is gradually emerging. But serious road bikers actually favor ROADS! The paved trails are great for family rides, but all those kids and distracted adults on the bike paths makes for a perilous experience if one is hoping to hammer down the path at top speed. I find it safer and more satisfying to wander around on the many, many wonderful paved roads. Here are a few fine rides:

The Trout Lake Loop is, perhaps, my favorite ride. The ride starts with the toughest climb in the whole area--Pope's Hill--a short, savage little thing that causes a fair amount of suffering. It's dangerous, too. The pavement is very rough and it's easy to get going too fast on the downhill section. A crash would hurt! The north leg of the loop follows North Creek Road, which is a little bumpy, but worth it--no traffic, deep woods, wild strawberries and blueberries along the roadside. The east side of the loop follows the bike path discussed above. The southern portion is quiet and generally safe. Finally, there is a short section on busy Highway 51. Fortunately, the gravel shoulders are firm enough for road bike tires at moderate speeds. On weekdays the traffic is fairly sparse, but this is a road to avoid on weekends.

Both Sue and I think the out-and-back ride to Manitowish Waters is a local treasure. The paved roads are smooth and seemingly endless. There are about as many bikers as cars on them. The whole ride is fun, but the section on Alder Lake Road is especially enjoyable--winding, wooded, with plenty of lake views and side roads to explore. After one gets up to Highway 51 near Manitowish Waters, one picks up another paved bike path, which makes its wooded way up through the town, past several lakes, and eventually into a forest trail. Usually, I'm ready to turn back at Manitowish Waters, but some day I will continue on. A host of secluded, paved roads await my exploration.

A third, perfect road-ride heads east to Star Lake. The prettiest part of this ride is the northern section on CR K out to Star Lake. It is winding and a little hilly through a lovely pine forest. The sight lines are not good, so I keep a sharp eye on my helmet mirror for cars coming up from behind. There are a couple of nice parking areas where one can hike down to Lost Canoe Lake and there is a lovely paved loop with fine views of Star Lake.

Here are links to larger maps of these three rides:

Trout Lake Loop

Manitowish Waters Ride

Star Lake Loop