Hiking & Art

Many artists opened their homes (and studios) for the Columbus Day weekend:

At one of the studios, the artist had made animal sculptures from found objects (e.g., bottlecaps and bits of plastic) - I think my favorite was a jellyfish. She'd also self-published a book with lovely woodcuts to accompany animal poems her dad had written for her back in the day. (This was in honor of his 75th birthday, a lovely gift.)

We found a hiking trail far from the madding crowd:

Beautiful pale pink fungi:

One small leap for hiker-kind:

The leaf collectors:

Relaxing at lunch time is said to assist with digestion, so I think we were all set.

Chivalry

In NYC, I've noticed that men typically make a point of allowing women to exit the elevator first. Or at least this is true in the two elevator buildings I frequent. So I make a point of saying thank you whenever they do this - not effusively, but graciously and in keeping with the level of chivalry shown. I try to encourage this sort of considerate behavior whenever I find it.

A far cry from my high school days when we used to play a game I think of as "Feminists & Gentlemen." The game spontaneously evolved because Jim and Josh would try to open doors for me and Steph, and we would (naturally) try to race ahead and open the doors for ourselves. There was one time we were all going to the beach together, and as we headed for the exit, Steph and I just looked at each other and flat-out sprinted to the front doors. We opened them for ourselves, and waited for the guys to catch up to us. They came tearing up behind us and -- as I remember it -- pulled us back through the doors, and then one of them held the door open as the other one heaved us outside again. All in good fun, of course, as Steph and I were almost helpless with laughter, but it was the beginning of a sea change in my world view: the realization that no one was really questioning my ability to open a door and that, in light of that fact, it might behoove me to accept these small courtesies in the spirit they are offered, with dignity and grace.

UNH Seacoast Day

We learned all about the New Hampshire seacoast with volunteer docents and scientists from UNH. I liked this chart:

This creature is apparently from the sub-tidal zone:

There was also an opportunity for Fine Art - people would paint a dead fish and then press it onto paper.

(credit: "Striped Fish" - artist unknown)

We also got to go on several of the UNH research vessels. Unfortunately, they were all tied up to the dock and no one offered to let us go on a research expedition or joyride. Oh well. These controls were pretty cool:

A trap for the unwary:

Found: 1 Diving Suit. Missing: 1 Diver.

The Grand Experiment

I'm almost 2 months in to The Grand Experiment to see if living in Manhattan totally transforms my life. It won't do that directly, of course. But I'm stripping away a lot of the excuses, and trying to strip away at least some of the inessentials.*

One thing - or rather, one drawer of things - that I've been carting about with me through the years are negatives. (I'm realizing as I write this, that it is also metaphorically true, but I mean it in the literal sense of ye olde fashioned photo negatives.) Are they heavy? No. Are they bulky? Not unbearably so. But they are useless to me in their current form, and they do carry a kind of negative emotional charge because I just don't know what's on them and I've been afraid to get rid of any of them and lose the ability to make new prints of some deeply significant memory or scene.

Trapped, eh? There are two easy ways out of this trap. Option A: I could simply throw them out, losing them as surely as if some apocalyptic hand had snatched them from me. Because of course if they were destroyed by some natural or man-made disaster, I'd certainly be able to go on (just a little bit freer). Option B: I could send them to some outfit that claims to be able to read the negatives and put them on digital media for me.

Since this is my year of spending dangerously, I went with Option B. I sent a few hundred negative frames to some folks in Utah, and they sent me back a link to low-resolution images so I can organize and delete them as desired. So I just spent most** of my train ride sorting through the images. Their organizing tool doesn't like the Safari browser, but it looked like it was working well enough for my purposes. I lumped them into 6 folders -- to the extent that I like the high-resolution images, I'll be able, perhaps, to make finer distinctions. A few of the photos I recognized as favorites that I'd really like to keep. Most are not that interesting.

Once I see the final result, I'll decide whether I want to go through the same Option B process for the rest of my photo negatives... or whether I'll go with Option A for some or even all of the remaining ones.

Either way, it feels good to make progress in this area. And I'm not going to load all of them into iPhoto -- only the great ones.


FN* Of course, I've also bought a bunch of stuff, some of it intended to help me organize and streamline. You know you're buying too many new things when the delivery guys start assuming that random stuff that other people have ordered is yours.

FN** Once the Acela Wi Fi finally started working instead of stranding me in an endless loop with the Terms & Conditions page, that is. Grrr.

Author's Note: LeesMyth sincerely regrets the grating grammatical error in the first sentence of the second paragraph. The subject/verb agreement is completely off. Unfortunately, I could not use the sentence structure I wanted to use without choosing between something that sounds right or something that "is" right but sounds completely wrong. Readers are advised that comments relating to the sentence structure and grammatical choice will be ruthlessly ignored - unless they are very, very funny. Consider yourself warned.

Day 9: Scarborough to Filey

N.B. This is the last of 11 posts about my trip to Yorkshire England in 2010. Feel free to browse forward or backward using the navigation links.

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Today's path was re-routed due to crumbling cliffs. Apparently, there was a serious landslide last year. So we had a fair amount of street walking (along the road to Filey) until we got to the point where the road was closed due to the unsafe conditions. At that point, we followed the trail down a gulley along the road, and then up again onto the cliffs....

However, with all the road walking, we passed a number of bus stops. The temptation was very strong to wait for a bus or see if I could flag down a taxi.

A last look back at Scarborough Castle as we head off to Filey on the route proper:

We traveled along more pastures:

Today was also the first day where we were warned about dangers of walking along the cliffs:

Yes, they were sheer:

Amazingly steep:

We made it! We got to the trail end marker, then hiked an additional mile into the town of Filey for a grand total of 110 miles over 9 days. We somehow outpaced our luggage, so we went to a cafe and enjoyed some refreshments (no Crabbie's though).

We took the train from Filey to York together, and then I caught the intercity train back to Kings Cross, London. Next time, I want to make a reservation at Novotel St. Pancras. That looked really luxurious! I got a delicious hummus salad wrap for dinner, and vegged out with some Dr. Who, a program called "Scaling Britain" which was very cool (history + architecture + rock climbing!), and a game show or two (probably "Eggheads"). It was strange to be really alone after 10 days of camaraderie.

An early night, and an early morning for the trip to Heathrow and back to JFK. Bought a copy of The Girl Who Played with Fire at the airport, and declared it on my customs form, but it went all too quickly and did not in fact make it off the plane.... And I was not treated to a boot cleaning this year. Oh well, you can't have everything.

N.B. This is the last of 11 posts about my trip to Yorkshire England in 2010.
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Day 8: Robin Hoods Bay to Scarborough

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Today was probably the toughest day for me. My muscles were aching from the somewhat unexpected ascents and descents on yesterday's long day of cliff walking; today was equally long and the elevation changes continued. I became a zombie, almost indifferent to the unfolding landscape. (But without the eating brains part.)

Still, it was all pretty spectacular for the first part of the day:

We stopped for lunch...

We encountered more and more people walking the trail (day trippers!), and eventually descended into the northern suburbs of Scarborough. We stopped for drinks at the first pub we saw, thinking we could see the end in sight.

It turned out, however, that we were about 3 miles away from our final destination. It took us a while to figure that out, but we had a nice walk along the water. As we began climbing up again, we saw Scarborough Castle:

After descending again into the heart of Scarborough, it turned out to be a tourist-heavy boardwalk town complete with beachgoers and sand sculptures. My favorite was the Sand Dalek:

We saw Coney Island en route:

A lift took us up again to the top of the town and walked around to the furthest bay where our hotel was.

We stumbled upon a bar which had recently re-opened its kitchen and was offering a one-day promotion: a full turkey or vegetarian dinner, with Yorkshire pudding, for £ 2.00. Yes, we couldn't believe it either. But there was no catch. It was delicious as well as economical, and we dined on the terrace overlooking the sea.

To be honest, much of Scarborough felt depressingly industrial - so far removed from the natural beauty of the rest of the walk, including the towns and villages we'd stayed at or passed through - and this made the 3 miles through town seem much longer than it was. But the neighborhood we stayed in was refreshingly "old school" with gracious Victorian homes and lovely views. The neighborhood had seen better days, perhaps, but the buildings are well-built and hold promise for restoration when people are ready to breathe new life into them.

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Day 7 (pm): Whitby to Robins Hood Bay

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After lunch, we crossed town and climbed up to St. Mary's Church to continue the walk.

According to Sacred Destinations,

From 1890 to 1896, Whitby was the home of Bram Stoker, who set an important scene in Dracula (1897) at the church:

For a moment or two I could see nothing, as the shadow of a cloud obscured St. Mary's Church. Then as the cloud passed I could see the ruins of the Abbey coming into view; and as the edge of a narrow band of light as sharp as a sword-cut moved along, the church and churchyard became gradually visible... It seemed to me as though something dark stood behind the seat where the white figure shone, and bent over it. What it was, whether man or beast, I could not tell.

Although we didn't see any vampires, I noticed that the graves have a good sea view:

I liked the see-through ruins of Whitby Abbey:

Coastline and clouds:

Coastline in bright sunshine:

Sarah and Bill forge ahead, eyes on the prize:

We hit the jackpot in Robins Hood Bay: a store window replete with Crabbie's Ginger Beer!

View down a narrow street:

I got a "single en suite room" at Raven House, which basically consisted of a toilet and shower next to the bed, with a partition to block the toilet from the view of persons who might happen to look in the window as they walked by. But it had a nice view of the bay.

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Day 7 (am): Runswick Bay to Whitby

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Today was the 9th anniversary. How time flies. Unfortunately, the news was dominated with foolish discussions. So it was especially good to be walking today.

We followed the trail through the town of Runswick Bay, down to the beach.

Bob and Poppy joined us, which was lovely.

The first of many looks back to the town of Runswick Bay:

A boat is stored just above the high tide line:

We did not see the much-lauded fossils, but there were some caves to look at:

The skies begin to clear:

We crossed a long stretch of beach with little in the way of encouragement from the Cleveland Way trail markers:

In other words, picking up the trail from the beach required some faith as we kept walking with no clear guidance:

But as we passed a small rock outcropping, we were rewarded with this glorious ascent across a gully stream:

A look back down the slope:

Bill traipsed on ahead once we got to the top:

Another look back:

Sarah and Bob took their time, talking of academia and Ph.D.'s.

I couldn't stop looking back and taking pictures of Runswick Bay as it receded from our path...

The ever-changing shoreline:

And the ever-changing sky:

We stopped briefly at the end of Sand's End for our elevenses, only to stop an hour later for lunch in Whitby.

Whitby seemed to cover a large geographic area. For example, at this point, as I recall, we were well within the town's outskirts, although far from the town centre:

It was a fine day for sailing:

A glimpse of Whitby Abbey on the headland overlooking the town centre:

Finally arrived in the heart of downtown Whitby:

We stopped for fish & chips (or in my and Sarah's case, just chips). Let's just say, based on my experience, that may not be the mid-day fuel of choice for a full day's walk.

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