Humidity

Having lived in the West for over a dozen years, I found myself missing some things from earlier stages of my life: Certain foods (real grits, fried Krispy Kreme's, collards with ham, etc.), architectural styles common before 1930, friends (most of all). The one thing I never missed - not for a moment - was humidity.

Pennsylvania apparently doesn't often suffer from the levels of humidity to which I grew accustomed - didn't know any better - living in Ohio, Georgia, and Alabama. When I would visit those places, or more sultry locations like Mexico, after moving to Idaho, I'd mutter a curse at how I felt like I was wearing a wet blanket taken straight from a hot dryer.

Temps in our neighborhood reached nearly 90 today, with humidity around 80%. Tina, having acquiesced in her battle with the humid air for control of her hair, admitted that she appreciates its affects on her skin. She noted, though, that after having walked only a few blocks I had already sweated through the t-shirt I was wearing (Icebreaker merino wool, chosen especially for the occasion. If you aren't familiar with the all-season wonders of merino wool, I'll be happy to educate you). To put it very politely, I was uncomfortable.

haze over Philly

Sitting on our little porch this evening, though, the dark and quiet was punctuated by the distant flash and thump of a fireworks display in an adjacent town. I felt an occasional breeze lift the dogwood leaves in our front yard and listened to the rattle of melting ice settling in my glass. I remembered sitting with my grandparents in their yard in rural northeast Georgia listening to a train approaching through the drone of the crickets; sitting on curbs outside stadiums after shows, eating PB&J sandwiches and chatting with my drum corps family; camping among and climbing the gritty limestone cliffs at Red River Gorge...

At night, I realized, humidity has a different personality - becomes a familiar and comfortable character, one I like to spend time with.

Out With The Old, In With The Not-so-old

Seven weeks ago Tina and I bid farewell to our 1995 Toyota 4Runner. It'd seen us through thick and thin over the half-dozen years I owned it; sporting nearly 170,000 miles, it shuttled me on numerous climbing, and backpacking trips, days of kayaking and cycling, and it was the dogs home away from home. The power windows worked only intermittently, the seats were shredded, the manual transmission slipped, and there was a permanent layer of Sawtooth's trail dust and climbing chalk on the inside. It was my "Rig".

The Rig met an untimely end at an intersection near here, when I made a left turn in front of an oncoming sedan. In my defense, neither Tina or I saw it until it was on top of us. We weren't injured in the collision - in fact, the dogs, who were standing in the back at the time, were barely knocked off their feet. The accident seemed like nothing more than amusement park bumper cars - the other driver hit us square on the passenger rear tire, which sent The Rig spinning clockwise as though the front end was anchored and sent the impacted tire bouncing down a side street.

So, six weeks ago Tina and I became the proud owners of a 2007 Toyota 4Runner - charcoal gray, automatic, power everything, clean. Way too comfortable, powerful, and tidy to be the rightful heir to The Rig.  Seriously, if you have to worry about scratching the truck or getting it dirty, and without the "feel" of a manual shifter and 4-wheel drive, would you consider taking it into the Upper Hell Roaring trailhead?!?

There may be hope yet that I can break it in. As one small step in its indoctrination, I've begun to put my brand on it.

Sticker Madness

People here seem to have a real thing for those oval stickers you'd see denoting autos registered in various European countries.  Herewith, a brief sampling of stickers we've seen recently.

A significant number seem to be collected at vacation spots, like the Jersey Shore.

Avalon NJ

Sea Isle City, NJ

Stone Harbor NJ

Outer Banks NC

Chincoteague Island / Assateague (it had you wondering for a second, didn't it?)

These little ovals are apparently the mid-Atlantic replacement for those silly "my kid was student of the day at XYZ Elementary" bumper stickers you see elsewhere.

Bishop Shanahan HS

Penn Valley Elementary

Wayne Elementary School

Drexel University

Even respected military academies aren't immune.

Virginia Military Institute

Some people have to show off both their kids' school AND their vacation spot.

Rosemont School of the Holy Child; Wildwood Crest NJ

There are stickers that commemorate artistic organizations...

Gilbert & Sullivan Festivals

PA Renaissance Fair

Residents of certain cities and states feel obliged to put one on...

Narberth PA (next neighborhood over from us)

Vermont

We even saw a car with the real thing...

Unless you are, in fact, an orthodontist, would you really want a sticker on your car?

Reading Orthodontic Group

Finally, I must admit I'm guilty of slapping one on my truck, too. Friends from Boise will recognize it...

Idaho Mountain Touring

Ardmore ~ North End

As we announced in mid-April, we moved two weeks ago to Ardmore PA, an honest-to-goodness neighborhood about 9 miles from downtown Philadelphia. Our little (~1200 sq ft) house sits at the north end of a street entirely populated with "twin homes", essentially duplexes with a property line that subdivides the structure.

Yin-yang twin home in Ardmore

Although our place has been a rental since its owner moved out about five years ago (and so needs a serious cleaning and some cosmetic work), we're already way more comfortable than we were during our six months in the humongous house among the horse farms.  With the exception of the location, our routine would be familiar to most people who live in the North End:  We walk through the neighborhood to dinner (Ardmore's version of DBA lists over 40 eating establishments in the town, which measures about 1.5 miles square), ride our bikes to the Saturday morning farmers market (in Bryn Mawr, home to the eponymous women's college), walk the dogs (through campus of Haverford College, another highly-rated liberal arts college, only a few blocks from our place), drive about two miles to the local grocery store (Trader Joe's in Ardmore or Whole Foods in Wynnewood). Our achievements of the past two weeks include identifying a great neighborhood coffee shop (Milkboy), Irish bar (McCloskey's Tavern), sushi restaurant (Harusame), hardware store (DMI), and dog park. With the exception of the dog park, which is two miles away, everything's within walking distance.

I drop my shirts at the dry cleaners on my one mile walk to the Ardmore train station. Most days I ride Amtrak to Paoli (subject of several earlier posts), from where a shuttle bus takes me to Vanguard's campus. My commute has extended from 25 to 55 minutes but it consists of a 20 minute walk and reading on a train and bus.  Longer to be sure, but when I arrive in the office at 8:05AM I'm less stressed because I haven't had to deal with traffic or parking.  And when we have occasion to head into Philly (which we'll do next Saturday to see members of the Trey McIntyre Project perform Peter Pan with the Philadelphia Ballet) the train will drop us off downtown in about 15 minutes.

We're on the left side - 636 Georges Lane

Of course our new abode boasts a guest room - in fact we'll host Petra, Tina's  friend and former coworker, in a couple of weeks. Her visit is a great excuse to head into Philly, Washington DC (where we'll have dinner with Alan and Geri Bullard, Boise friends who're coincidentally visiting DC) and NYC (to see Porgy & Bess on Broadway) during her week-long stay.  PLEASE come hang out with us!

Change of Venue

It's been a month since we posted - no excuses (good ones, at least) - and we promise to get to it more regularly.  In the meanwhile though, we want to share the news of our pending relocation.

We shared with you the adventure of living among the horse farms west of Philadelphia. You'll recall we found the house too large (and expensive), without the neighborhood feel we enjoyed in the North End (although our next door neighbor is Christin Steele's childhood friend - how crazy is that!) and too far away from shops, restaurants, and other amenities.

The suburb to which we're moving, called Ardmore, is only nine miles from downtown (aka Center City) Philadelphia. We'll be one mile or less to supermarkets (Trader Joes!), restaurants (our new favorite sushi place!), a library, the train to Vanguard and Philadelphia, and heaps of other stuff we can walk or ride our bikes to.  Plus, the house is around the size of our Boise place, with similarly lower costs.

For your records, as of this Sunday 21 April, our address will be:
636 Georges Lane
Ardmore, PA 19003

As a reminder, Vanguard's just north of Paoli and we're living (for the moment) on Yellow Springs Road (in the very upper left corner). Our new place is marked. Philly is at the bottom right.

The River Trail Showdown

We spent many, many hours on the Boise Greenbelt during our tenure in the city. Kenn did most of his marathon training and took hundreds of other runs and rides along the entire length of the trail from Discovery Park at Lucky Peak Reservoir to where it crosses beneath Eagle Road. Tina likewise walked and jogged the Greenbelt many times. While it's a convenient site for community members to exercise they may take for granted to beauty of the strip of urban park that is the Greenbelt and the River itself.

We must admit we did exactly that. We extracted two of our five bikes from their basement prison and took our first ride on the Schuylkill River Trail and Perkiomen River Trail this afternoon, taking advantage of the continued excellent weather to get a little outdoor exercise. We'd read and been told about the paved trail beside the Schuylkill (skoo-kull) River and looked forward to making use of it ourselves.

The SRT is a paved path, two auto lanes wide, following the River as it arcs northwest from the western edge of downtown Philadelphia. The Perkiomen River Trail intersects the SRT near Phoenixville, northeast of our house and adjacent to a fenced dog park to which we take Karma and Bailey. We rode on the SRT north from the dog park then followed the PRT north another few miles to a convenient turn-around.

While both Trails are surely convenient for runners, walkers and cyclists (although in our opinion not an appropriate substitute for roads for the hard-core cyclist because of the density of other users) the main drawback to us was the state of the Schuylkill River itself. The muddy banks are choked with underbrush in which trash hangs; myriad dead trees litter the banks and channel; the water appears thick, brown and sluggish, with streams of white bubbles swirling downstream. Not a body of water in which I'd be inclined to let my dogs cavort, much less that I'd want to kayak or from which I'd eat a fish.

More or less what the PRT looks like, at least for the moment

In sharp contrast we've had the pleasure of doing all three of the above in the Boise River.

While perhaps a technicality - our disappointment is with the River, not the Trail itself - round one must go the to Boise Greenbelt.

How we remember the Greenbelt...

Spring Is Here (we hope)

The Taters moved to PA in the fall - in our opinion, the most beautiful time of year Idaho. October turned out not to disappoint in Pennsylvania either, but by Thanksgiving the woods around our house were literally a stark reminder of winter's thrall.

Like most of the rest of the US (including Idaho), Pennsylvania's been spared a harsh winter, granting us one small favor in our adjustment to the east coast. And, as of the past few days, it appears as though spring has arrived in earnest, if not on the calendar (it officially starts March 20th) at least in temperatures and, perhaps, temperament.

We heralded the season with last weekend's visit to Longwood Gardens in nearby Kennett Square. In the early years of the last century Pierre S. DuPont, great-grandson of the founder of the eponymous company, bought a farm on the site and created most of the extensive horticultural center that exists today. The place is like a Smithsonian for plant and flower lovers; every imaginable variety is on display in a gargantuan, rambling greenhouse and in various formations around the vast grounds of the estate. Even on a crowded spring weekend it was hard not to find it impressive and charming.

This past week brought consistently warmer temperatures until today, when we noticed the farmland and trees around us greening quickly and enjoyed sitting on what passes for our front veranda. Crocus, daffodils and other greenery are bursting through the brown grass and dead leaves in the yard, and the merest hint of leaves tips most of the trees that are no doubt enjoying the warmth as much as we. So warm was it today that the dogs even took themselves out of the game (of fetch) at the local dog park, lying in the shade panting. 

We're not foolish enough to believe without reservation that the potential for wintry temperatures and precipitation is behind us. Anyone who's lived in Idaho knows that the key to successfully surviving the "shoulder months" is to dress in layers and keep the umbrella handy. But the probability of a nasty surprise is diminishing daily and we're very much looking forward to cycling, hiking, fly-fishing and otherwise experiencing the outdoor life in this part of the country.