Travel notes: Colorado College Class of 1999 Reunion weekend, Colorado Springs, CO

This past weekend my 10-year college reunion allowed us the chance to blow this pop stand and head back to the mountains, to Colorado Springs, CO, home of The Colorado College. Checking the weather before our trip we read about the chance of rain and snow and low temps and packed accordingly. We arrived Friday afternoon to clouds slowly burning off the mountains and a relatively dry landscape so we thought maybe we got lucky. That night the skies clouded over again and coated the Springs in moisture. That moisture froze to ice, and stayed for the duration of the long weekend. But that didn't matter much. We were back in the glorious Rockies, at the base of Colorado's front range, and it felt good.
We wanted to be close to campus so we didn't have to rent a car. That would prove to be a smart move as Saturday alone there were way too many car accidents to count between the Springs and Denver, about an hour and a half to the north, all due to the unexpected ice storm. We stayed at the exclusive Club EL only a few blocks from my freshman year dorm. Friday night we met up with my junior and senior year roommate, Bob Pokorney, his girlfriend Jody Peterman, my other long time partner in crime McB Smith McManus, her husband John, and we decided to ease into the weekend with dinner at Phantom Canyon downtown. As we expected the food and microbrews was as excellent as we had remembered. Following that we would head over to Jack Quinn's to meet up with the rest of the class of 1999. So it wasn't until Saturday morning that I finally got to show my love around the old stomping ground. It was sensational to be on campus again and see that much of it was unchanged. The fall color was starting, the students still an interesting intellectual bunch, the natural beauty still very much there, even though covered by a heavy quilt of grey.
From my perspective as a horticulturist I was loving to see how the trees around campus had grown over the ten years.
I was thrown right back in time, remembering and visualizing the amazing classes and art installations, campus events and their leaders, fun characters, and free thinkers. It was just a shame the clouds wouldn't let up.

There were things like hardscaping changes but for the most part it was the same ol' CC we know and love. Places like Bemis Hall...
...and McGregor down on the lower portion of campus.
Of course Shove Chapel was still grand and spiritual and centering.
Shove Chapel has a side space where I was allowed to make on of my best art installations to date. It was a summer block about ancient Mesoamerican religions with David Carrasco, a genius visiting professor, and preseason for my senior project, a cultural ethnography of the history and ritual behind Los Dias de los Muertos, the Mexican Days of the Dead. For my final I created a sacred alter space. An indigenous alter of my own design intentionally perched within the societies idea of sacred and spiritual space it was an homage to how we all search for our own center of the world. I was never able to record it in any way (photo, video, etc.) which is a shame because it was a great marriage of rough elements creating formal ritual and beauty, complete with green bananas and broken radiators.

Tons of new landscaping all over campus looked great, like these grasses and shrubs where the stairs to Packard Hall used to be, one of Bob and my favorite skate sights those years ago. Today of course I preferred the sweeping plantings and big swaths of color and texture.
The courtyard at Packard Hall
It was definitely a little icy everywhere you went.
Pennisetum Popsicles anyone? (forgive me, I couldn't help the bad horticultural humor. ...humor?!?)
One of the best new additions to campus was the Cornerstone Arts Center across from Packard. I foolishly didn't get shots of the interior, but the facility and design of the space are no doubt huge and necessary improvements for the Art Department. Not to mention the venue for our Saturday cocktail hour before the classic CC Homecoming Dance on Armstrong Quad, both ridiculously fun affairs.
Of course no trip to Colorado College would be complete without a meal at Wooglin's Deli. Felis femina waiting for our breakfast sandwiches of egg, cheese, bacon, and croissant, in other words, heaven.
Then it was on to the bookstore with the ol' gang to get geared up in true Tigers fashion. ...well, that and another excuse to be totally silly and geeky with my dearest old and new friends.
GO TIGERS! Hahahahaha!!!

This is us chilling outside Worner Center, literally! Jody Peterman, Bob Pokorney ('99), McB Smith McManus ('99), John McManus, and Krissy Dunkle. And at the Saturday lunch we got to catch up with Renee Mackey ('97) and her adorable kids, Keenan (pictured here) and Sienna.

We also got to meet one of the newest and cutest of the next generation, Paul Wilson and Shea's little cutie, Otis.

L. to R.: Julia Nelson ('00), Paul Wilson ('99), Dana Stone Harris ('99), Bob Pokorney ('99), Jody Peterman, Megan McDowell ('00), and yours truly, Alex Feleppa ('99) with Renee's little Sienna Mackey there in front.
Paul and Mister Otis bundled and ready to dash to the next event.
Sunday the Springs quieted down a bit, or at least the lovely leftist little bubble I called home for four fabulous years. So we decided to take a Tejon stroll. You see, Tejon is the street that goes south to downtown C. Springs straight south from the center of CC campus. Freshman year I would take a Tejon stroll every night, a nice long walk by the mountains side to end the day and wind down before the next day's adventure.
It was the best to be able to share this weekend with my fiancee and introduce her to another part of Colorado. This Episcopalian church at the intersection of Monument I always liked.
...and it's statuary.
As you can see the plantings were still a bit frozen.

I especially loved the frozen annual Geranium.
We went on to Jose Muldoon's downtown in honor of our friend Custom who couldn't make it to the reunion this year. The margaritas were superb, the food delish, and the Broncos won in overtime. Our mini vacation was amazing. And to top it all off Pikes Peak finally decided to show it's face Monday morning before we had to head out and back to the northeast.

Well, maybe the adventure of trying to get home wasn't necessarily "amazing", what with the hydraulic leak, absense of crew, delays, missing luggage, and 15+ hours stuck inside various airports and planes. But in the end we did finally get home, safe and sound, and eager to figure out our next trip to the mountains. Hmmm, maybe honeymoon!?!?

In Bloom: fall blooming perennials

It is true, fall is finally upon us here in the northeast. But that is not to say that there are not still lots of fabulous things in bloom these days. Surely if you have taken a woodland walk recently you have spotted various Aster doing their thing. Out in the country where I grew up I am sure the fields are aglow with Solidago (golden rod) and Eupatorium, that tall white weed that us horticulturists know the moths and butterflies love this time of year. The buds on the perennial Chrysanthemum are about to burst, but maybe not for another couple weeks or more, reminding us that even when it is too cold for us to be out in the garden it is anything but inactive. Some of the plants in bloom this time of year really speak to me.
This is Anemone x hybrida 'Alba', commonly known as a white Japanese anemone.
A spectacular plant for sun to part shade the foliage usually only reaches about 3-4' tall but the flowers get up to 5' and seem to float in big glorious clusters above the autumn garden. If you allow the spent flower heads to remain on the plant and go to seed you will see they eventually open to disperse their seed in the form of little puff balls that get carried away. According to Flora they are hardy in USDA Zones 6-9, and in this day and age you can find various hybrids and cultivars in a variety of size and flower color.
I personally suggest you wait around long enough for a bee to come by and have a visit. They land and get busy as this little guy is doing above, but they quickly move around the flower sure to touch all the bright yellow-orange stamens before moving on to the next, going around in a perfect circle on each flower before moving on and repeating the motion for every flower in range. It reminds me of the old rotary telephones we had many years ago and that old visual and sound sensation of the face spinning around and around. Not to mention, not too bad a landing pad, huh?!?

When I was first getting started in horticulture I, like most, took each step one plant at a time and slowly over the years my plant palette evolved into the thousands of plants I know and love today. With that let me introduce you to one of my all-time favorite shade perennials, and one of the first plants I ever learned. This is Tricyrtis hirta, commonly known as hairy toad lily. No doubt it was it's unusual coloration and almost orchid-like appearance that attracted my novice eye. I am sure it has that affect on a lot of people as many friends and perfect strangers have stopped me and pulled out their iPhones hoping I can identify the wonder they have discovered.
Native to Japan hairy toad lily proves to be a fabulous garden or woodland plant for part shade to shade. The three foot stems are upright with a slight arch to them and the flowers form right up at the tips of the soft foliage. The foliage provides a nice coarse texture in the fall garden and the flower a subtle but sensational surprise so I can't help but think this is a pretty killer plant.
So, obviously our annuals are slowly but surely on the way out. And perhaps with all the rain and gray we had in June they didn't do as well as we would have hoped this year, but just the same they added extra shots of color and flower where we needed them for the summer months so we can't feel all that bad. We have all seen lots of different kinds of tropical begonias that use as houseplants or annuals, but I find that not very many people know about hardy begonia. Say hello to Begonia grandis.
Native to China and Japan, hardy in zones 6-9, and able to get to a couple feet high and wide, hardy begonia is a great plant option where you want a bit more showiness in your garden. The foliage is thick and fleshy like you would expect it to be and the light green leaves with tinges of red (nodes, venation) are themselves very poppy and contrasty. And then late summer in to the beginning of fall you get these great inflorescences of delicate pink male and female flowers.

And after the flowers pass their pollinated flowers transform into these great hanging clusters with pink, red, and yellow and persist to frost. Place it in your garden in sun to part shade and make sure it is kind of protected.

Platycodon grandiflorus in known as balloon flower. Also an Asian native, this member of the bellflower family (Campanulaceae) is hardy to USDA Zone 4, an upright plant that reaches 2' to 3' in full sun and maybe a couple feet in width. Not only is this a great garden flower because of it's 2" blossoms that persist through most of summer, but it also will have great fall color in a month or so before it dies back for this winter, a great combination of bright yellow and rich purple. The only thing you really need to know is that they need regular watering, some staking, and very regular dead-heading to keep going all summer long. But trust me, they can, so break out the needle-nose pruners and keep them close. It is easy to tell the spent flower from the buds, which you can see is where the plant gets it's name.


Lastly, for now, this is Actaea simplex 'Brunette', formerly known as Cimicifuga. Brunette cimicifuga is maybe not the most striking plant in the garden these days but with it's dark foliage and tall white spires it does hold up very well. But the best part of this plant I can't even begin to describe. If you are strolling in a garden some time soon and see this plant walk over to it instantly and without hesitation. Then sniff. The sweet smell of cimicifuga in the early fall is so good there is nothing like it.
The flowers are inflorescences, which to a novice gardener basically means that the each flower is not one flower, but actually a ton of tiny flowers next to each other in a specific arrangement to ultimately make up what most people call one flower. Here is a close up.

Actaea simplex 'Brunette' definitely gets to a healthy 3'-4' in height and width in sun to part shade in organic rich soil. The foliage tends to fade before the flower so it can get kind of bare looking, but provide me that amazing fragrance to work by for a cool breezy afternoon and I'll take a few brown leaves anytime.

speedy bear commute home

It's a Sunday during football season and I had to work, so you can imagine how I was hauling ass to get home in time for the Broncos vs. Cowboys kick off. And to top it all off I got screwed by an R train deciding to go express from Queens Plaza. That means that I then had to walk from that subway station up to the nearest N train at 39th Ave., a walk I am quite familiar with. But I had never seen the bear before. Not necessarily the kind of sign you expect to see on the face of a car and auto-body shop, right? Had to laugh and pause for a quick pic and slow down a bit. Great clouds above the platform at 39th Ave. once I got there...
Oh, and the Broncos win. Not a bad day. cheers,

Ray Spahn: 1952-2009

I just found out that the world lost an amazing horticulturist, artist, and gentleman today. My dear friend and mentor Ray Spahn passed away at his home on the eastern end of Long Island this evening after a long bought with cancer. He was only 57. I first met Ray when I began on my career path in horticulture at Marder's Nursery a little over ten years ago. Ray maintained the houseplants and tropicals in the massive barn Charlie and Kathleen had moved from PA to it's new home in Bridgehampton, NY. The structure was beautiful, but the ideal place to raise moisture and humidity loving specimens it was perhaps not. But Ray, a brilliant plantsman and caring soul, had this ability to grow the most tempermental tropicals and ornery orchids with grace and ease. It was his panache for plants that lured me in, made me want to have that same connection to the living world. He would quickly prove be one of the major players to infect me with the horticultural bug. Of course I have to laugh that my orchids and ferns will never look as healthy as his. When I would go on to manage a garden shop of my own one day I would think of Ray and try to maintain the same cool, calm collectedness while trying to keep the plants alive and appease the impatient New Yorkers all in one breath. I realized he really did have a gift. As I would get to know Ray over the years I would learn he was also a phenomenal painter and artist. Ray and his partner Stan invited a number of us from work to their home for a summer party and to this day I don't know if I have ever seen a home as beautiful. Everything was intentional, finely selected, full of character and culture and reflective of life lived well. The Australian tree fern took over the living room and took you to another place and time. In the kitchen Ray was experimenting with different epiphytes and miniature ferns mounted on verticle wall panels, years before anyone would hear of these things called "greenwalls" or Patrick Blanc. The huge canvases of seascapes you wanted to stare at for hours, just like the real thing. Through it all Ray would focus on the positive as much as he could and he truly lived life right, surrounded by life and love and friends and family and the richness of nature. As Dave C-K reminds me, even after being diagnosed Ray made the most of 7 or 8 more years before he passed away. He will be so missed but his unforgettable spirit will live on. Rest in peace dear friend.

Chances are you or someone you know has been affected by cancer. Please at some point in your life consider supporting cancer research/care/support. Whatever the donation, of money or time, it does make a big difference. Here are links to two of the many worthy causes out there:

The Lance Armstrong Foundation
&
East End Hospice

Saturday morning projectizing

I just unearthed about a hundred spring bloom pics I had completely forgotten about. Here is the flower of a Hyslop variety Malus floribunda, a Japanese crabapple. Supposedly these trees were raised on a farm up the Hudson and brought down the river in full bloom one spring before being planted at their permanent home within the Conservatory Garden in Central Park. Today the trees make up two formal allees that are spectacular in any season. The trees were supposedly planted at 10-years-old or thereabouts so today they are well into their 80's.

It's a cloudy fall day in New York City. The weather is mild today but with the early trees like the crabapples and the native flowering dogwood beginning to change color we are forced to acknowledge the passing of another season. And that is fine by me. This time of year is my favorite. Returning to jeans and hooded sweatshirts feels cozy and comfortable, the cute city girls don their foxy sweaters making us men do double-takes, and we celebrate the coming of cold with weekend walks in fallen leaves and football season. But alas, as we get older we can't help but once again ask the rhetorical question, "where does the time go?"
September was sensational yet a blink of the eye. I didn't get to take nearly enough photographs or enjoy ample free time to allow for blogging. You can probably relate. So today I am trying to attempt a little catching up. Looking back through my pictures I realize I am months and months behind updating the flickr account and the arborboy blog. My hopes are to get a number of new (old) posts up here soon but realistically I realize that could take a little while, a long while, forever, maybe never in fact. In any event, I encourage you to check out my flickr page and check out the hundreds of images I have been uploading. It is true, they date all the way back to April and therefore are perfectly outdated, but hey, maybe they will help put a fire under your ass to get out there and get some bulbs planted, to think about what worked in the garden this year, assess what didn't, make your notes on the year, update your maps before things die back completely, and enjoy putting your garden to sleep knowing spring is actually just around the corner. Here are a few tastes...

perennial Geranium

Magnolia x soulangiana is commonly called a saucer magnolia

Rhododendron 'Delaware Valley White' we know as a 'Delaware Valley White' azalea

pretty sure this is Spiraea nipponica 'Snowmound', a Snowmound Nippon spirea

and Wisteria floribunda, Japanese wisteria, so insanely aggressive but clearly so beautiful in early May.

Fungus ID: Chicken of the Woods

Back in early July I was headed to work one day when I noticed this in a small planted area in Central Park. The environment is an isolated triangle of turf with a few oaks planted throughout it. This cool looking fungus, about 6" x 6" with amazing orange coloration, was pretty but I had no idea what it was, though it made perfect sense to be around given the super saturated June we had. I figured it had to be growing off of the roots of the oaks as the only other thing growing was the turf. You see, grass does best in a more bacteria-based soil while trees and shrubs prefer and have more symbiotic relationships with different kinds of fungus. So realizing my mycological skills are lacking I had to email my good friend and trusted mycologist Rachel and get her opinion. I gave her the basic rundown and luckily she was able to identify it, or at least we both think it's the best guess so far. Below is what Rachel had to say.
Chicken of the Woods (Laetiporus sulphureus)
Single to overlapping clusters of fleshy, smooth, orange-red to orange-yellow caps with sulfur-yellow pores (not gills) beneath. Grows on stumps, trunks, and logs of deciduous and coniferous trees; also on living trees and buried roots.
(From Audubon Society Field Guide to Mushrooms)

That sound right? From where it's at it sounds like it could be feeding on some buried rotten roots. This website says that once you see these fungi on a tree, you can be pretty sure the game is over, which may be useful information for ya.

And bonus: it's supposedly deelish. Tastes like Chicken. I think for the most part you're safe with polypores, but everybody reacts to mushrooms differently. I'd hate to be responsible for liquifying your insides. A bit more info about edibility here.

Anyways, it's a cool mushie! I remember seeing a really big Chicken of the Woods at NEWFS in the garden. It was *bright* orange. Pretty beautiful stuff.

Thanks for a reason to break out the mushroom books!

Thank you Rachel!

stupid pet humor

Perhaps you have already seen this, but it was new to me.

Saturday News Update

Thanks T. Galbraith for sharing!

remembering 9/11, another New Yorkers tale

As New Yorkers can attest and tourists can understand September 11th is a big deal here in the city. It's everywhere in the media and certainly on everyone's mind. This September 11th, eight years after the terrorist attacks of 2001, it is rainy and cold. The work day was relatively quiet and we plugged away, did our work, and got out of there. Coming home I caught up on checking voicemail and returning phonecalls. On the phone with a woman in Colorado she politely asked how the weather was today in New York. I admitted that it was rather rainy and miserable, fitting with the day in many ways. The pause announced that she was lost. "You know, because of it being September 11th and all", I continued. Of course then she realized what I was talking about and had no idea what to say. In the same polite tone we got out of the conversation and off the phone. A bit stunned I realized some people forget this day. Hmm. Because I remember it so clearly, my story at least, like it was yesterday.

It was one of those perfect September mornings on Long Island. The air temp was soft and comfortable, the sky clear blue with picturesque little clouds. The surf was kicking so there was an extra dose of salt to the morning breeze and it smelled fabulous. I had to go to work selling trees at the nursery so I barreled along in my old blue Explorer. That day I was on the schedule from 9am to 6pm. When I got to the main building to punch in the administrative offices were buzzing. People were saying a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center, others were hopping on the phone, there was no internet. I went downstairs to the basement to Alex Mao's desk, the IT wiz kid who started as a cashier with me years ago. Before the internet got jammed Alex had been able to save a tiny picture of the twin towers with the fiery impact of Flight 11 atop the north tower. Of course then I didn't know all these details, as a partying 24 year-old in the country I barely knew anything about the World Trade Center at the time. I kind of didn't get it. Things weren't registering. But that visual was like nothing I had ever seen. I retreated to the tree and shrub shack.

That season at the nursery the tree and shrub sales staff set up our own office in a small wooden shed a long stone's throw from the main garden center and shop. The wood was worn, the windows still filled with the old wavy glass panes. The shack let in a warm sunlight through the huge panel doors at one end, exposing pieced together computer stations and bookshelves full of reference material, plant samples, tools. A lot of people worked at the 21-acre nursery, and five very different characters ourselves, we liked our safe little space to hide out. Clad in our work boots and summer uniforms, walkie-talkies on the hip, we found an am/fm radio and turned it on.

Already a few minutes after 9am the second plane had crashed into the south tower. We heard how Manhattan was being shut down and the military was being called in. Like everyone else we had no idea what was going on. People were pacing around the small office getting worked up. I ran out of the shack and scrolled through the address book on my cell phone. I was able to catch my mom at home. Frosty, my brothers girlfriend, worked on the commodities exchange in the basement of the World Trade Center. Luckily she was late to work that day. As she got out of the subway there was already a flow of people walking away from the twin towers towards the Brooklyn Bridge. Frosty called Gian Carlo still at home in Brooklyn and told him to turn on the news. Gian was able to call mom and let her know Frosty was alright before the phone lines into and out of New York became jammed because of the high call volume. Mom was watching the news on TV, and couldn't describe the images. I stepped back into the shack as the radio had a new announcement. The DJ was interviewing a general at the Pentagon when all of a sudden they themselves were hit by commercial Flight-77. The Pentagon, attacked! This is big we confirmed with each other.

It was 10am when the south tower collapsed and even the radio announcers were speechless. An hour had gone by but time was standing still. It's that moment that I remember most clearly. There was something about the duality of the perfectly beautiful day and the unfolding devastation that together made the moment so surreal. We just stopped and listened, suspended in space, absolutely motionless. James, a proud firefighter, sat with his 6'+ frame hunched over the small computer desk, the screen still inactive. I think that was the summer Cassady was pregnant, sitting at her desk, facing the other side of the shed. Kevin and Jessica stood in the late morning sun pouring into the building, motionless like stone obelisks balanced atop the worn wooden floorboards. About this time my brother was finally getting to the water's edge at the end of North 1st in Williamsburg. He joined the crowd and stared in amazement at the scene unraveling across the river. At one point, he would later tell me, he turned around to register the sea of eyes staring along with him. Expression was inevitable and instantaneous because none of us knew such devastation, violence, uncertainty, death. We screamed and cried and questioned. We heard the rebirth of "terrorists" and "terrorist attack". We hugged and held each other, wondering if this was really happening. Gian Carlo watched the second tower collapse with his own eyes around 10:30am.

All of a sudden our walkie-talkies rang out through the airwaves. "I need a tree and shrub sales associate outside the garden shop to help with flowering trees". The five of us looked at each other in angry bewilderment. There were no words but we were all thinking the same thing. Are you fucking kidding me?!? Someone wants to shop right now?!? Aggravated curses started and already tired of the banter I said I'd take it, grabbing my wide brimmed hat and heading out towards the larger barn. I passed through the admin building to confirm I was taking care of the call and it was the first time I heard of Flight-93 crashing in the Pennsylvania countryside. I met the clients and their garden designer and we began into the sea of overhead balled and burlapped trees. They told me their wants and we began to swim through the options and price tags. Somewhere between the fruit trees and the espaliers I finally had enough. I asked them in a smooth tone if they knew that we had just been attacked by terrorists. They did, though their reaction seemed enragingly bland. The garden designer, a local woman I knew, began in on her own rant. Soon the richie couple realized their priorities were kind of fucked up, or at least the garden designer and I did, and the purchase was pushed back to another time. The couple got back into their Range Rover, the gardener back into her Chevy, and they were off. They would be my first and last clients of the day. Once again I would retreat to the tree and shrub shack. James had found an American flag and we hung it across the front entryway. Kathleen then announced that we were closing for the day and sent us all home to be with our families.

By mid afternoon the media coverage of the same video clips was getting tiresome. I went over to Bob and Raina's house, my great older punk rock friend and his amazing daughter who I was dating. Having lived in the city for many years I wanted to see Bob and hear what he had to say about it all. We sat in his room with the dogs sharing a bone and talked through the flurry of emotions trying to make sense of it all. Years ago when he lived in Breezy Point and shaped surfboards Bob had befriended a fellow surfer, a firehouse captain. That morning when Bob first heard about the twin towers attack he called his friend. It went right to voicemail. Bob left a message saying to call him back right away. Eventually Bob would get a call back, his friend the captain on the other end. Because the surf was so killer that morning he took the morning for himself and decided to paddle out at dawn before going to the firehouse. When he got back to his truck he had two messages. One message was from Bob, the other was from his firehouse that they were heading into Manhattan. He called Bob back right away and Bob was the one to fill him in on the news. In the end the captain was the only one who survived from the entire fire company. Ultimately surfing saved his life that morning. An entire company of firefighters, killed in the collapsed dust and debris that swarmed the city. How would he ever get over those feelings of grief and guilt for all his lost men? I still don't know. Thinking about it still makes me well up. That's when it got really personal.

The church bells begin their evening chimes across the street. The rain persists in New York City. Manhattan is barely visible through the fog from the elevated N train carrying me back to Astoria, Queens. Each person in our own way reflects on this day. We relive our memories, and continue to move on, to help others cope, to show our support of the men and women who gave their lives. From the standpoint of this New Yorker, even though I can rant and rave like the best of them, I am thankful to those men and women who give their all to ensure safety and peace for the rest of us, and I hope people never forget 9-11-01.

Bill's leftovers at Long Beach

This morning we woke early and headed south to see what was left of the swells created by Hurricane Bill. When we got to the jetty at Lindell we found some substantial surf. With a few people out it seemed like the sets were a solid 6-8', nice and evenly spaced, the wind keeping them clean for the time being. Anxious to get out there myself I shot these pics in a fury before and then in between surf sessions. They're all jumbled by this point.
Of course the pics I took show waves that don't seem as big as they were, but realistically I think any surfer tends to feel that way.
Either way, we knew it was big and burly out there today.

Even the little waves in between the sets had a good push to them and we were all psyched.


As is typical it got a lot more crowded as the afternoon set in, and as forecasted the swells began to slowly weaken. The woman catching the right was totally on her game and definitely making the most of the afternoon.
By the time we wrapped things up I'd say there were at least 25-35 people out at the small weekly break so we hit the road. ...but that's alright, big sets were seen, solid head-high waves were had, a fabulous afternoon followed, and once again life is good, life is good.

Krissy got the best shots of the day so you have to be sure and check out Felis Femina!
This is a video of yours truly she shot during the early afternoon session. I had never seen myself surf before, you know, except for a pic or two dad took when I was 15, so even though the takeoff was a bit wonky I was still giddy as a spazy little schoolboy. God I love surfing.

surfing Hurricane Bill: a youtube gallery

a few clips I found this morning among the many things posted to youtube - I'm sure much more will be posted soon

I don't know what the typical break looks like, but this is Kitty Hawk, NC, looking pretty big:


and this is Long Beach, NY, yesterday. I can't wait to see what it looks like when we are there in person tomorrow! ...and yes, we will have our boards with us.


Bob Alexander is a man I have not yet gotten to meet but he has shot lots of great Long Beach footage over the years. This is his piece from today, 8/23/2009:


This is Spring Lake, NJ, shot by Steve Donohue this morning (great footage Steve!):


...and the surfers a little later on:

I was hoping to find Montauk footage, but apparently not yet. My friend Claire Lamond Condon took this great shot out there today:



ok, back to stretching and hydrating