Photos, travels, good food, cooking, meandering, birds, and oh yeah, a bike.
Shawn Kielty Photography. All images and content are Copyright © 1982-2015, Shawn Kielty with all rights reserved, unless noted otherwise.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
To Hell in a Hand Basket ...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Today's Ride
Mike's Bikes in Palo Alto was totally Johnny on the Spot fixing a broken spoke at 10 on a Sunday morning.
I carried the camera the whole way but never stopped to take any pix.
In the Absence of Running Water ...
Whatever that means. I am working on a show. 20 photos or so in black and white.
In my early life there were Polaroids, later, when I was grad school I met a woman from the desert, who had a thing for Polaroids. She took me to the desert and helped me to see it's richness, taught me to find life there, water there; I found myself there more often than not.
Years passed. A $15 dollar Polaroid camera and a passion for the desert grew. It turned into a fourbyfive and better Polaroids. Now, I am sorting through them looking for a show.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
First Aid Kit
So I thought maybe I should look over some of the first aid kits around and try to make one that would be pretty comprehensive, just in case I need to (try to) save anyone.
I started with a National Recreation and Parks Association (NRPA) First Aid Kit from the American Red Cross:
5 packs of Antiseptic Wipes
5 packs of 1 fl oz Triple Antibiotic Ointment
2 packets of Hand Sanitizer (0.9 fl oz)
2 packets of Hydrocortisone Ointment (1 fl oz)
10 .375" x 1.5" Adhesive Bandages
25 .75" x 3" Adhesive Bandages
15 Adhesive Bandages-1" x 3"
5 Adhesive Bandages-1.5" x 1.5"
3 Adhesive Bandages-2" x 4.5"
3 Fingertip Adhesive Bandages
3 Knuckle Adhesive Bandages
2 Bandage Dressings-5" x 9"
1 Bandage Gauze Rolls-2"
1 Bandage Gauze Rolls-3"
2 Triangular Bandages 42" x 42" x 59"
5 Gauze Pads 3" x 3"
5 Gauze Pads 4" x 4"
1 Adhesive Tapes 1" x 10yds
1 CPR Breathing Barrier
1 Adult Emergency Blanket
1 Red Cross First Aid Guide
2 Pairs of Gloves, Non-powdered Latex-Free, size: large
1 Scissors, Pointed, metal
4 Thermometers, Disposable, Oral, Non Mercurial
1 Tweezers (Metal)
2 Aspirins, 81 mg each
1 Bio Hazard Waste Bag
1 Instant Ice Pack
1 No. 2 Pencil with eraser
1 Emergency Contact Card
In all fairness to the kit. It's pretty good, if you're in a playground in an urban area. If you're in the wild though, it might prove difficult with this kit. So I added:
2 Sam Splints
1 Trauma Pad
1 Ace Bandage with velcro closure
1 Trauma Shears
1 12 cc. Irrigation Syringe
1 Yellow Duck Tape
12 Ibuprofen
12 Aceteminophen
12 Naprosyn
12 Aspirin
1 Note Pad
2 Liquid Glucose (96 calories each)
1 Honey Stinger Gel (120 calores)
12 Dulcolax Laxative
1 Sanitary Napkin
1 Black Permanent Marker
3 Safety Pins
1 Package of Certo™ Liquid Pectin
1 Flashlight
1 Roll of Adhesive Tape
2 After Bite Towelettes
1 Qiuk-Clot Sport Clotting Sponge
1 Benzoin Tincture
2 Benedryl Tablets 25 mg.
10 Benedryl Strips 25 mg.
1 Fake Moleskin
9 Corn Cushions
1 Watch with a Sweep Second Hand
1 Gatorade Powder
Just for completeness, if I were employed by a company and/or had a medical advising physician, I might have epinephren and some antibiotics included in my kit, but a Wilderness First Responder can't administer any of these in most states without a well defined protocol and a prescribing advisor.
Needless to say, it no longer fits into the neat little bag. Additionally, it weighs 4 lbs. plus, so it's great for boating, or riding around in a truck, but is a bit heavy for backpacking. I'll be working on the weight of it, and working on a reduced list of items for backpacking.
This assumes a certain amount of other gear will be available for evacs (like a folding saw, or a section of rope, or some paddles, poles, or skis ...), and tasks like sterilizing water, and that someone (hopefully me) knows what to do with all of it.
Toenails, and Other Missing Stuff
I had a black and blue toenail after that -- which fell off. Yesterday. I love it when that happens.
Enjoy.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Image of the Canyon
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Portola Redwoods State Park -- Iverson Trail
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
The Endless Desert
The idea here was to show that I was just driving through an endless desert. Most people probabably don't think that the central valley in California is really a desert ... but it's a lot like a desert. Any way, I am in Twentynine Palms, CA for the night. Tomorrow, Joshua Tree, and onward to Phoenix.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
A Fork in the Trail
Yawn. Now that I am free, I am going to run out to Arizona, for a few days. I'll spend the New Year Holiday in the Superstitions with the Happy Hiker Guy, and our friend Dale. We are going to Reavis Ranch for two days and I'll be in the Phoenix Metro for a few days. currently temps in Mesa are about like the are here, but promising to drop0 to freezing over the next few days. It will be cold at night in the superstitions at 3-4000 feet.
After a few days in Phoenix (looking for a job.) I'll spend about 10 days in Flagstaff, where it's snowing and the temps are ranging from 4 degrees F. to 25 degrees over the next couple of days. I am taking my bikes and gear and plan to try to ride a bit around Flagstaff while I am there. So I developed a little checklist for my gear for riding in winter with snow. Since I'll be a rodie in Mesa and a Snow Biker in Flagstaff, I'll have 2 bikes. The Trek mountain bike and the Marin San Marino.
- Spare platform pedals (so I can wear my boots).
- Gloves (2 pair)
- Cycling shoes (2 pair)
- neoprene booties
- rain pants
- long underwear (capilene or merino wool)
- Wool shirt
- Scarf
- Jacket
- Raincoat
- Socks
- helmet
- balaclava
- Pump
- Toolkit
- Spare tires
- Water bottle
- patch kit
- tights
- bike bag
I'll be getting ready.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
HO HO HO!
2 eggs, whole
10 teaspoons sugar
10 teaspoons cream
Any flavoring can be used
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Ummm ... I Baked Some Bread
... Spicy Currant Bread, to be exact. I used to bake a bunch of whole grain breads, which, as we all know, takes special voodoo magic. I haven't baked bread for some years ... but it seems like maybe it's a bit like riding a bike ...
This recipe comes from the Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book, which is a must read if you are interested in making good whole grain bread.
Tomorrow morning I will share it with some friends. Tonight, my place is filled with great smells and warmth.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Ahhhh ...that's better
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
New Saddle ...
... what will gilby think. I have always been a strong advocate of a Brooks saddle as seen in this old post, Tearing Myself a New Asshole, so this must seem like an absolute reversal of great past wisdom. But it's not. When I got the Surly KM, I moved my swell Brooks Saddle over to it and returned my Selle Italia Trimatic to its original home on the San Marino Yellow Bar 20 lb. roadie. After last week's ButtRendering&trade on the Selle Italia; ride, I decided to look at a new saddle.
I let the bike wizard guy talk me into looking at the Specialized saddles with the hole in the middle, which I like to refer to as the assGap™. He had me sit on an assGauge™ to determine my bony butt wants a 143 mm wide saddle and then we picked out one with gel. A Specialized Phenom. Despite my original tirade against gel, with the assGap™, the gel won't be able to wedge itself up where the sun won't shine -- so maybe I can tolerate it.
So I put it on the bike -- and have so far retired the Selle Italia Trimatic ... 2003's finest and a very popular saddle. It has Manganese gizmo-rod things and is handmade of leather and plastic in Italy, by expert seat makers. It has a couple of signs of wear after about a 1000 miles of use, and is scuffed on both ends. If you're willing to pay shipping and a hundred bucks or so -- it's yours. It's well made and although I don't like it, many people rave about it.
If I don't like the new saddle, I suppose I'll have to buy a Brooks Titanium Swallow (wholly crap, I'll need a loan), and move The Specialialized Phenom Gel over to the trek -- which has a generic foamy crapSaddle™. It will be an improvement.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Layers of My Life
Monday, December 8, 2008
On Becoming Human ... Or I'm a Statistic
It's clear that no one who actually knows me was involved in the decision. Hopefully that makes it easier for them. I know that makes it easier for me. I am probably an ok guy, and they just don't know what they're doing. After all, they don't even really know me.
When I was in graduate school at the school of Wazzu, we practiced being human. It was our job. There was 16 of us, grad students in art. We loved and hated each other, the faculty, and the undergrads. We were the face to classes and accesible for schlepping stuff around, or helping at the firings (ceramics, not people), or bronze casting, to lecture ad hoc, read papers, spout untested opinions, give technical advice, but most importantly, to find the way to justify and explain are own humanity. To find the big T truth, to explain our very meanderings, the real arguments for the being in human being.
I remember at that time I was reading an amazing amount. I was also hiking and exploring the Bitterroots, the Palouse, Eastern Washington, and Idaho. I was exploring. I was looking for myself in a landscape of farmland and hard work, wilderness, and my own acute philpsophical mind. I was making Congoesque objects from grease and wool, and barbed wire, trying to heal myself. I was reading Vine Deloria and Jose Sepulveda, and arguing the case for my own ideas in a great scholastic swirl. The freedom to chase these ideas was intoxicating.
Like I said I was reading a shit load. I was looking to Pablo Neruda, Borges, Terry Tempest Williams, Edward Abbey for the evidence of my humanity. Neruda spoke of love and injustice, Borges of an undefinable dream, of desire, Abbey of the absolute, of travel in the wild, and Terry Tempest Williams of the desire of people to become human.
The desire to become human. Just think about that for a minute. Why is being human so difficult that we all want to do it. You might be wondering about now what this has to do with being layed off -- seemingly less than humanely.
How do we get to the place we where fear life without our job. That we won't survive. That our kids won't thrive. That we won't be defined well. How do we get to the point where the conversation is about whether or not we're willing to agree to not speak disparagingly about the company that is laying us off, in exchange for the small bit of severence they allot us. How do we get to the point where we call our co-workers, our friends, "resources."
It's because we don't take enough walks. We don't go outside. We focus on our stuff and not our actions.
I know this because I did it. When I finished grad school, I set out to make art; teach art. I worked for two years, showed all over the west. Lectured, won prizes. I made no money. I took a job out of desperation and turned it into a great career. I just got layed off in the middle of a an economic disaster and I am so delighted and scared. Why?
One. I doubt myself. Two. I know this is just another opportunity for me to be a human being. I know I can travel, work hard, be kind, and get by. I am relieved because I feel abused. Pay doesn't make up for abuse, time does. I am excited because I have been planning a trip for a while. I just needed to get some time to go. Now I can. I can go to Alaska and look for a job. I can retrain for a new career. I can try to find a way to have more fun and ride my bike.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Ask Me Where it Hurts ...
The Mushroom Girl shooting God beams at Fort Funston.
A while ago, The Mushroom Girl scored a bike, a X-country Peugeot, possibly about 15 years old, all steel and set up to bring home the bacon. She has been riding it everywhere. I think she likes it. I would have bought it for myself if I could, but it was exactly her size, and it's the perfect bike for her.
So, the Mushroom Girl came to me and asked if I wanted to go for a thirty mile ride with her before she leaves for some Asian islands in about a week. She said -- well -- "I want to go to Lake Merced", and I am thinking -- oh, that's like a fifty miler. We'll need to start early, say -- 11:00. She's training for the ride for your life AIDS thing, where you have to raise a crapload of money, and then also ride your bike 450 miles (from SF to LA) or so in 5 days. So I am all for helping out.
Well, I haven't been on a bike since October 1 or so, but I figure, well -- I am in pretty good shape. I've been working out ... and so on. So we park up in Hillsborough by the watershed, but away from the trailhead at Crystal Springs, where so many cars (including the Mushroom Girl's) have been broken into, And head North. It's like 2:30. We tear down the first 6 miles, so quickly, neither of us believes it.
Seriously, we bounce down the bike trail and the crazy girl is pointing and calling out Mushrooms alongside the trail (it rained finally) and it's looking like a serious roll into the city. We break briefly and I ask if she has any lights ... No. I think, well I have lights. We hammer up Skyline road and gracefully descend past Fort Funston and into the city. At one point we found ourselves on the freeway so rode back to a Starvebucks™ and asked a Barristar™ if it was ok to ride on the freeway. He said it was, so we believed him and did. Zoom-Zoom.
We found the Lake. I looked at my odometer and it said 15 miles ... We briefly debated going around the lake, but decided we better turn back for fear of the approching darkness.
There's a HangGlider in This Shot.
Or Maybe the Hanglider's in This One.
At Fort Funston I discovered that I actually only had a headlight (the crappy Blackburn tailight has fallen out of it's holder) ... and we were probably going to be riding in the dark. I estimated 1.5 hours of useful light. We could make it, but we had to Go. Despite a fairly tough ride back, championed by the MGirl, we still were trapped by darkness, with the last bit being a bit challenging.
When I got home I ate like a horse. A roast beef dinner with a baked potato, cornbread, and green beans, followed by a 700 calorie protein shake and a pint of vanilla ice cream. Yummy. I love riding a bike.
There was this one spot during the ride where I had to stop and walk while climbing Trousdale Blvd., due to some cramping, but it only slowed us for a few minutes. I might have pulled a quad slightly. I suppose I'll know before long.
Any one care to have a guess at where today's ride really hurts?
Friday, November 21, 2008
Friday Night at the Laundromat
I did sets of:
Standing Shoulder Press with a single @ 75.
Squat with a single at 120.
Deadlift with a single @ 150 lbs.
Assisted Pullups with a single @ 150
Assisted Dips with a single @ 150
Sit ups
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Fitting Fitness into a Busy Life
It's the truth. What he said. I remember reading the beginning of a book about whole wheat bread baking, The Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book, which went to great lengths to describe how to incorporate bread baking, or other things, like raising a cow, into one's life. Serious plans for baking bread regardless of work schedules, day care, or any of a variety of other interference.
Making a space in life for the important things, like personal health, is pretty imperative, I suppose. So I quit the climbing gym, and signed up at the Y near my house.
This morning I turned my morning shower in to a workout. I got up, drank some juice and grabbed a hard boiled egg, and brushed my teeth, gym bag, drive, stop for coffee, drive, swim, shower, drive to work.
Normally, it takes me about an hour and a half from my bed to shower, coffee and get the car on the freeway to work. This morning I was up at 6:45 and on the way to work at 8:30, an hour and forty-five minutes. By getting up a few minutes early, I squeezed in a half hour swim. Amen to that.
day/month/year
Swim: 500 yd/100 yd/5650 yd.
Run: 0/0/9.55 mi.
Bike: 0/0/15 mi.
Paddle: 0/4 mi.
Hike: 1.5 mi/11.4 mi/28.8 mi.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Swim: 0 yd/500 yd/5150 yd.
Run: 0/0/9.55 mi.
Bike: 0/0/15 mi.
Paddle: 0/4 mi.
Hike: 1.5 mi/11.4 mi/28.8 mi.
Weight: 155
That's a base for the week of 12.5 miles with a 3.2 longest trip, so I think that may be a starting point.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
A Little Recovery Drink
Swim: 0 yd/500 yd/5150 yd.
Run: 0/0/9.55 mi.
Bike: 0/0/15 mi.
Paddle: 0/4 mi.
Hike: 2.1 mi/6.8 mi/24.3 mi.
Weight: 158 (grumble)
It seems like my weight is increasing ... I came home from the gym after about 25 minutes with a 146 average heart rate, which indicates a fair workout. Assuming I could burn about 500 calories at a serious walking pace per hour, this could be approximately 250 calories burned. I figure the 15 minutes or so in the hot tub maybe doesn't burn all that many calories.
So I burned a couple hundred calories. I have been reading this book called the Paleo Diet for Atheletes by Loren Cordain an Joe Friel, which talks about the importance of eating relative to recovery -- in fact, it seems to consider all eating in terms of recovery -- and recommends a recover drink.
SO I mix up my favorite recovery drink:
1 cup Brown Cow Cream Top Vanilla Yogurt 220 calories
1 scoop Solgar Whey Protein Powder (20g) 70 calories
1 scoop Green Vibrance Super Green Food 44 calories
8 oz Grape Juice (Grape or Apple or Mango) 160 calories
1/2 cup trader Joes frozen organic blueberries 40 calories
2 crushed Advil caplets (just kidding)
Ok -- so I do the math real quick like 22 29 33 49 53 +4 = 534. Let's see ... that can't be right.
If I were to drink another glass of whatever at 200 calories and then have had an espresso with cream before ... that puts me in the same category as the folks that drink a caramel machiato and then walk to the car to work it off... 800 calories - 250 == 550 calories in the unwanted fat category. No wonder this recovery drink sends me right to nirvana.
I go back to the book. It says to skip the caramel machiatos and the beers. It says to cut back on the recovery drink unless you workout intensely or for more than 60 minutes. Go figure -- I think I need to work harder.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Swim: 0 yd/500 yd/5150 yd.
Run: 0/0/9.55 mi.
Bike: 0/0/15 mi.
Paddle: 0/4 mi.
Hike: 3.2 mi/5.7 mi/22.2 mi.
Weight: 156 (grumble)
I managed to keep a bit higher pace today, managing a 5k in about 42 minutes. It's almost a running pace.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
Saving Willie Martinez
For me, this story is a tale of a real life changing event. I have told the story a few hundred times, and although my role in it might be considered to be heroic, for me it was just the least I could do.
It was a normal sort of day in suburbia and my wife and I, went to check out a Play Zone store in Fremont, California, to find out about a party for my daughter's fourth birthday. Since my daughter is now 21, that means that this was the end of July, early August in 1991. I can't remember entirely the date, but I sort of suspect August 2nd was the day -- since I think I read the Saturday paper to find out details about it the next day. So anyway my wife and I and the two kids went to this play zone in Fremont to arrange a party in the Subaru.
I am getting a bit ahead of myself. At the time I was working teaching recreation classes in painting and recently the administrator of the city of Half Moon Bay had forced an official San Mateo County first aid kit on me, since I was teaching a course in landscape painting, which I put under the seat of the car. Although I had had Red Cross first aid training, I don't think it was actually current, but the night before I had seen an interesting story about emergencies, first aid, and how to stop major bleeding.
So we are in this Play Zone checking out the party action, and book a party and leave ... I insist on going back in to pee, but find the bathroom all jammed up so leave any,way and then make a wrong turn to the admonishment of my wife and we are driving through the parking lot and there's a guy on his back the ground in the opposing lane of traffic with a panicked woman screaming on top of him and shaking him. There's blood. I reach under the seat and grab the first aid kit.
I stop the car and get out.
"What's happening?" I ask.
"It's my boyfriend, he's been stabbed. A bunch of guys, they beat him, then they stabbed him."
The right side of his shirt is soaked in blood about heart high. There's a lot of blood.
"Ok, sit down right there on the sidewalk, and I'll see if I can help him." I ask. "What's your name?" I ask him as I open his shirt. There's a one and a half inch wide puncture wound in his chest, just about where I imagine there's a huge vein. It's bleeding. Not pumping. But there's a huge amount of blood coming out.
"Willie Martinez."
"I am gonna try to help you, but I think it's gonna hurt."
"Ok." he says, and passes out.
I take a look around. I am in a lane of traffic and I am alone. I see a guy in the near distance running directly at a phone. I assume (correctly) that he's going to call 911. Willie's right hand is bleeding. I open the first aid kit and grab the biggest gauze thing I can find -- which is a 4" compress. Open it and press it against the wound. My wife asks if I need anything.
"Can you bring me a diaper, I really need a bigger bandage?" I pinch the opening closed in Willie's chest by squeezing it with my fingers. A crowd is gathering.
A woman approaches and says "I am a nurse, can I help?" I hand her the first aid kit and tell her that he has a huge cut on his hand. A large woman approches me and states that she is a doctor. I hear a siren. The doctor has trouble getting down to the ground but has a black bag. I am going though the first aid training ABC's and by now am trying to get a pulse. The doctor instructs me on finding the carotid artery, but is clearly reluctant to touch the victim.
The doctor has me roll our victim up on his side so that his good lung is up.
My wife returns with a blanket and says, there aren't any daipers -- this is all I can find. The Doctor thinks Willie may be in shock -- so we use the blanket to wrap him up and try to raise his head. The siren is close now. I now have him in a sort of hug where I am holding this little piece of guaze against his chest and pinching his wound closed between my fingers.
The cops arrive. I think, thank god -- maybe someone will take over. There is a pretty large crowd. The cop asks me what happenned and I explain the Willie got stabbed. He asks me, "How big was the knife?" I say, "I don't know," and he asks if I saw what happenned, and I say no.
"Who did?" the cop asks, and I point at the girl, still on the sidewalk. He takes his notebook and walks away. I hear another siren. The Fire Department is arriving. They run up carrying toolboxes, and whatnot. I hear another siren. The fireman look at me, and ask what's up. I tell them about Willie and they ask, "How big was the knife?" Oddly, they stand there in wonder and immobility. and the parametics arrive.
The paramedics immediately shout instructions to me -- "Don't move." "What happened?" "..."
"How big was the knife?"
"I don't know."
The paramedic ripped off Willie's shirt to examine the back of Willies body to see if the wound had gone through. It hadn't. They roll him on a backboard and I maintain my position holding him together. They setup an IV. He said to me, "Let me see what you got."
I removed my hand and showed him the wound. He made a loud gasp and so did I. Willie wasn't bleeding. He wasn't bleeding. The paramedic plastered him with a large piece of plastic tape.
I get up and walk over to the cop, "Do you need me for anything?"
"Did you see what happened?"
"No."
"You can go."
I get into the car and drive home. I wonder to myself if I just fulfilled my life's purpose.
Later that night I call Washington hospital (he's not there), the Fremont Police, and Alta Bates (the coronary truama unit -- he's there).
The nurse at Alta Bates I talk to -- and I explain I was there when it happened -- she says -- "oh you're the one ..."
I learned that he lived -- that 6 kids got arrested for beating him ,, that's everything I ever knew about it.