Davos, Switzerland
My brother Phil (together with his über-energetic wife Tammy) has just completed the highest high altitude marathon in Europe—the gruelingly beautiful 42.2 km Swiss Alpine Marathon. The pair ran side by side from start to finish along a demanding route, partially on rough mountain trails, with a total ascent of 1890 meters and a descent of 1710 meters. A record number of participants (5910 entrants) and stellar weather helped make the event an unforgettable experience. More information about the race here.
Congratulations, you two!
Munich, Germany
A year ago, I posted about some lovely illustrations I had come across from Simplicissimus, the satirical German weekly magazine started by Albert Langen in April 1896 and published through 1967 (with a hiatus from 1944-1954). Combining brash and politically daring content, the magazine sported a bright, immediate, and surprisingly modern graphic style… today I came across the online Simplicissimus motherlode, here.
Above images: Simplicissimus covers from 1924, 1929, and 1930 respectively.
Caldas da Rainha, Portugal
Rosa Quitério is a design student I met at ESAD/CR during the days I spent in Caldas in May this year—she had earlier contributed to the feature on Portuguese design I’d written for Communication Arts magazine. Imagine my surprise and delight when I received a beautiful time-themed linocut engraving by post from Rosa last week (printed on Artistico + Fabriano paper, 390 mm x 558 mm). She recalled my mentioning that I was fond of clocks (which she is too it seems)…
Obrigado!
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
For now hath time made me his numbering clock:
My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial’s point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
Show minutes, times, and hours.
—King Richard in Richard II by William Shakespeare
Warstein, Germany
A nude climber stuck halfway up a cliff face in the pitch dark had to phone German police officers, who shone a spotlight on him so he could find handholds to lower himself back down, they said Friday.
The 47-year-old man was unable to explain why he had drunkenly stripped off at dusk on Thursday, packed all his clothes in his rucksack and headed up the 40-metre quarry wall in Warstein, 100 kilometres east of Düsseldorf.
Clinging to a ledge, he became too weak to proceed and could not get dressed for fear of falling. Hours later, becoming both very cold and sober, he managed to get out his mobile phone and contact police.
Police took him to hospital as a precaution, in case he had suffered from “exposure.”
Could happen to anyone… though methinks there’s a cautionary tale in there somewhere. Source: the Alpine Club of Canada newletter (thankfully without accompanying imagery).
Falcon Lake, Manitoba
My rockin’ kid brother John Paul Peters just completed his first 24-hour mountain bike race this last weekend. Not only did he survive, he even managed a 2nd place in the open solo category. Here’s how JP describes the experience on his blog, 29erlove.blogspot.com
“Well, it was great to race, and it was almost as good to finally be done. Each hole punched in the license plate represent a 7-km lap completed. Not an overly fast pace, the course was quite technical in places and fairly rooty and wet in the woods. Dallas told me early on that there would be sections of the trail that, after encountering over and over again, I would absolutely despise. He was right. There was that little mud hole just after the first climb. Had a way of draining my speed EVERY single time as I eventually gave up looking for that perfect line. There was that squishy swamp where I got stung in the butt cheek at least twice by wasps (pain then, Itch now). And there was that technical rocky section about half way through where several sharp rocks tried their hardest to puncture my sidewalls (luckily they were thwarted).
This was my first experience with a 24-hour race and in many ways it lived up to my expectations. There would be periods of intense desire to quit riding. There would be butt pains, hand pains, leg pains, gut pains, and all sorts of pain I’d probably never experienced. I did learn that I can stay on a bike longer than I thought I could. I learned that cantaloupe is the greatest thing in the world after 12 hours of racing. I learned that a little mud added repeatedly over the course of a number of hours has the ability to stop things from working. I learned that having someone to cheer you up and encourage you means that much more so many hours into the race. Vanessa is awesome. Thanks to everyone who was such a great cheering section for the racers (fgbc crew at the top of the list!) Renee T. even took a slow lap with me to help keep me human. Thanks dude!
Things that did not live up to my expectations: my butt is not sore from riding 23 hours—it is only sore from wasp stings.
I had no idea I could last as long as I did. I’m looking forward to getting feeling back into my left hand and being able to bend over to tie my shoes.
Great times… some random photos here…
24 Hours of Falcon Ridge official site here ”
Congratulations, little bro!
Via Ads of the World, here.
