Ironcat!

Mrrrrr Friends,

Every year for the past 10 years or so our neighboring community of Lake Placid has hosted an Ironman race. This is pretty impressive stuff. Some seriously fit humans first swim 2.4 miles. Then they bike for 112 miles. Then, as if that weren’t enough, they run 26.2 miles.

This is a big deal event in these parts. The Adirondack Park is a bit of a Mecca for buff humans. In part that’s because of Lake Placid, site of the 1968 and 1932 Olympics, but the Park in general seems to be a place where very serious climbers, bicyclers, ironmen, hikers and other sporty types converge. Alex and I can choose to spend a good portion of each day watching helmeted, spandex-encased bicyclists whiz or wheez up our little hill on Springfield Road and wondering what color combination we’ll see next.

The Ironman race shuts down all the primary roads into and out of Upper Jay. One can get out in a car but you have to come back the long way. I think we’re all gonna stay put and watch the bike race perforce.

Now, I know your thinking, “Ironcat!” And, yes, it has crossed my mind. Obviously, I was not going to be ready in time for the 2009 race, but let’s think ahead to 2010.

I’d do well enough I think in the swimming and running portion. Of course, there’s the issue of my needing to groom myself after a swim…that would take a bit of extra time that my human competitors would not, I think, credit me. Nevertheless, no self respecting cat would get out of the water and not groom for at least 20 minutes before moving on. I guess one tradeoff is that the human competitors get on their bikes with wet shorts on? Doesn’t that sound just a bit compromising?

Bicycling is the second and, of course, slightly problematic, leg for me. The Ironman organizers (Ironman is actually a series of races that culminate in a world championship in Hawaii this year) do identify a “physically challenged division.” I’m not too thrilled about my lack of opposable thumbs being labeled in this manner, however, I’m not looking for a lawsuit. So I’m thinking a handcycle just might become a pawcycle. I shot off some schematics to my Long Island pawcycle engineer Richard H. to see if he can begin to develop some prototypes that meet USAT specs.

If they’d insert a 112-foot freestanding, branchless tree climb instead of bicycling, I’d be much happier, but I’m working with what I’ve got.

Then there’s the run. This isn’t an area of great concern for me. I’ve got four legs! I can maintain a fast-pace trot for quite some time. Inclines don’t really affect me that much. I was thinking, though, given the hard surfaces, of getting an athletic shoe sponsor and having them work up some nice paw booties. Think of the demand – 60 million 4-pawed domestic cats in the US alone.

We hadn’t quite worked out how they would body mark me for the swim leg and the fact that they demand a swim cap and a bike helmet with a chinstrap. And I just figured they’d forgive me the nudity thing, since I’m furry. And I’m looking forward to après race – the wonderful folks at Ironman offer free massage to all the participants…imagine the lucky masseuse that would get to rub me down!

So things were moving forward. I was preparing my USAT application and getting quite excited.

But then I hit a wall.

It turns out one of the rules of Ironman is that you can only get food from the official food stations during the 112-mile bike run. Here’s what they provide: “water, Gatorade, powerbars, powergel and fruit.” No kibble! And I’m not sure they provide bowls of water either. I was stunned.

This is just too much.

Ironcat will have to wait for a more enlightened age.

Born to Climb; tree-scaling revealed

Mrrrrr Friends,

The world of tree-scaling continues to occupy my time here in Upper Jay. I have a host of new trees and species varieties to work with and have set some goals for myself as cats around the world prepare for the 1402nd bi-annual Catolympic Games to be held in Australia this December. Primarily, my new home is allowing me to hone my trunk skills. As those of you who follow the blog know, I am better known in the cat world for my small-branch paw skills.

Here’s a very quick video previewing my latest work. Unfortunately, the cameraperson was not quick enough on the start button to capture my lightening 30-foot sprint up to the base of the tree in question, but she recovered herself just as I started my ascent.

Look at the base of the Linden tree in the video, then click the play button and you’ll see my tightly coiled black form spring to life. Not only will you see my no nonsense climb, if you watch closely, you’ll also catch a glimpse of my radical head down descent. Since its introduction at my 2007 debut at the Catolympics, the “Diesel Dive” is catching on!

I was born to climb.

Goings On and Upwards

Mrrrrr Friends,

Life is pretty busy here in Upper Jay. I’ve got my paws full surveying and monitoring a new yard and getting to know its inhabitants. Here are a few highlights.
My tree of choice right now is the many-trunked Tilia americana, Linden or Basswood, just behind the house at the base of a hill. It sits in a very slight depression with spongy, spring-fed ground around it, sprouting sedges and other cool wet-loving plants. I’ve ascended three of the trunks so far – one at a dead run this morning with a successful 10-foot climb. Here I am scoping out the approach and launch area.

I find the damp wet ground a very appealing launch pad substrate. The shallow mini-pools of water make it possible to abort a run, stop and take a drink of ground water like it was all planned. There is a very nice medium-sized glacial erratic next to the lone trunk, which could serve as an alternative launch pad or sunning rock. It also affords a perch for viewing frogs, who congregate among the sedges and are amazing creatures. The frogs I’m meeting so far are streamlined numbers…not the peepers of my native Wisconsin. They don’t seem too disturbed by me looking at them, but there’s something about them that doesn’t inspire a paws-on approach.
The Linden tree dominates our view from the back porch, and it seems to be one of the favorite haunts of many of the birds that visit us.

While I’m out in the yard, at least once a day, Alex keeps tabs on our winged friends from the back porch. The Linden has hosted racketing Blue Jays, mrrmrrring Cedar Waxwings, staccato Chickadees, tippity tapping Downey and Hairy Woodpeckers, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Juncos, Phoebes, Nuthatches, at least one White-crowned Sparrow and a couple of elusive little warbler-types that Alex and Kelley have not yet identified.

Our most frequent bird visitor of late is “Stinker,” a noisy, very territorial male House wren who is renovating the Carolina Wren box hanging from our back porch. He’s had his eye on the place for a month or so, but only recently took the plunge. We think he’s trying to convince his partner Rose to move in for a double-clutch year. Rose seems to be a bit shy of Alex, so I’m not sure that Stinker will persevere in moving her…maybe with some further renovation of the interior he’ll convince her next year?

This bird box has an illustrious history of producing happy wren families. It was chock full of sticks and bird junk from its last happy brood (click on the House Wren link in the “Labels” column to see more on that). In a fit of human moving and organizing mania my male person cleaned it out this spring. Stinker was pretty appalled that the place didn’t come with furniture, but he took care of that right away.

Cat Suffrage and So On

Mrrrrr Friends,

Greetings from Upper Jay!

Did you hear the news? Al Franken is now the esteemed Senator from Minnesota. When I heard this news on North Country Public Radio, I became very excited and immediately began drafting letters in support of my pet legislation – cat suffrage.

Now, I love my people and I consider them pretty smart cookies, though sometimes a tad impractical, and I can always depend on them to support my efforts to advance cat philosophy in all its forms. In this case, however, my female person insists that just because the Democrats now have a supermajority in the Senate, this is not an open door for cat suffrage. Her words were: “Diesel, they’re Democrats – not animists”.

I feel a bit let down. Actually, I was incredibly discouraged when I first recognized that she wasn’t going to be able to go along with me on this one. But after looking into a time-share in Florida, I decided maybe this was asking a bit much…and perhaps on too large a stage. I will turn my attention to local affairs and remain in Upper Jay.

Speaking of local…North Country Public Radio it turns out is the voice of our new community in the Adirondacks. All day long we have public radio at our claw-tips – NPR, PRI, BBC World Service, interspersed with local news and weather, supported by advertisements from local businesses, schools, and even environmental non-profits.

This is pretty cool stuff. I am particularly fond of the fact that “lost” and “found” cats and dogs get their 15 minutes of fame. Why, just the other day they were announcing a puppy lost in Olmstedville, just a mountain range or two south of us. I think we’re just a step away from cats calling in to request various blues and jazz tunes. So why not give us the vote!