Mrrrrr Friends,
Except for the cat costumes - some of you can get away with this, others, well...not so much - this whole sugary, scary costume day doesn't make a lot of sense to a cat. Now, if you were going door to door for the equivalent of a nice kibble: a tagine, nice lamb stew, a good Barolo, heck, even pizza, I think we'd understand.
We used to have kids come by when we lived at the little house. But not here. What's up? Do you think the Adirondack mountain kids are smarter than other kids? Do you think they are staying home, instead of going out at night in rain, snow, and 30 human degree temps? Perhaps spending their time, instead, lobbying for chicken stew, a plate of steamy beets (cats love the small of beets), and a nice Barolo?
I got a bath today. That was scary for Alex. Me, I'm into a nice warm bath, a towel off, then apres bath in front of the stove fire with Boo.
We're staying home, drinking a little Bordeaux, and looking forward to some steaks from Essex Farm! Oh, and there is pumpkin pone for dessert...hopefully with a dollop of cream to share with the cat.
Diesel is a cat, not a petroleum product. He lives in the Adirondack Park with his two people and his pal Alex, a female stripey cat (and purebred Iowa Wildcat). Diesel has things to share, observations about the world around him from his feline perspective. In these pages you'll follow Diesel's paws-on exploration of places, people, critters, issues and more. Welcome to Diesel's domain and the unique perspective of a curious Wisconsin Snowcat.
Showing posts with label Adirondack Park. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adirondack Park. Show all posts
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, August 13, 2009
NCPR Breaks Species Barrier
Mrrrrr Friends,
What did you do today? Me, I joined our local public radio station (and, yes, I had to use my peoples’ bank account). But not just any public radio – North Country Public Radio. NCPR is really wonderful. Why? In a nutshell, NCPR is one of the common threads that knit our wonderful new community together.
I speak with some listening experience, having lived in very different NPR communities in both Wisconsin and on Long Island. My people have also been listeners of NPR in Chicago, Minnesota, New York City, and Washington DC. We are of accord that NCPR is something special.
Perhaps it is the fact that our world is fairly remote, winters are long here, the full-time population is relatively small, and services are sparsely scattered. It is safe to say that folks who have come to live here full-time and folks that were born here and choose to stay here, find value in these things that many others would find inconvenient. Nevertheless, knowing what is going on in your community is pretty important to staying in touch, engaged and enjoying life.
The Adirondack Park is 6 million acres of public and private land knit together by the protection of the NY State Constitution and the principle that public lands will remain “forever wild.” Hamlets and villages are scattered throughout the old mountains that reach up to 5000 feet into the sky, east across the Lake Champlain Valley, west and south to the Black and Mohawk River valleys and up toward our neighbors to the north and Lake Ontario. It is a lot of space…a lot of wonderful mostly forested and, yes, critter and flora-filled space. Tying the human elements (resources, controversies, news and society) together intelligently, democratically and creatively and integrating them with flora, fauna, waterways, and mountains in a way that complements the remoteness, is important.
NCPR does a bang-up job of giving us all the cool usual stuff of NPR: Morning Edition, All Things Considered, Fresh Air, Click and Clack…but then they also weave a very local touch throughout the day and with the 8 O’Clock Hour and the All Before Five news and information segments, lots of wonderful music and art news, and the especially cool Calendar which tells us what’s going on right in our own park. I especially like a nice segment called Natural Selections with a very nice-sounding lady named Martha and Dr. Curt. They’ve done some excellent educational work on turtles and how they breathe – how cool is that?
But perhaps the coolest thing about NCPR is that the folks are all from here. They are broadcasting and mostly living right around us. They drive on our local roads, shop in our local stores, show up at many of our regular local events and they bring that intimacy to the radio. The folks on the radio are us. They can look out the window and talk about the weather as it happens, they talk about cool critters they see on their drives. Case in point, from my feline perspective: they report the adventures of cats and dogs. I’ve noted this here before, but they do announce when people “lose” their animals. It is true that the NCPR announcers seem to couch their language in a very ethnocentric manner - “lost dog,” for example (why do dogs get lost more than cats?). But, to be fair, they might be considered a little loopy if they catered too much to their cat audience.
And they handled my membership well. During their now close to complete 2-day fund drive, I decided that my people should belong…they had talked about it. So I hopped online (let’s face it, humans just don’t even try to understand Meowese, so I couldn’t call) and filled out the form – I got a carbon credit that had been donated by the Adirondack Council, another cool group up here. I was the 102nd new member to join in the past two days and, I believe, their first cat member. I checked the box that said they could announce my name on the radio and made sure they knew that I was getting the membership with my people in mind.
At the next break, they mentioned two human names and then mine! The nice lady didn’t pronounce it right – she said Diesel The Cat not Diesel T. Hecat – but I didn’t mind, indeed, it might have been the best route to take for a radio broadcast. I could tell they were a bit unsure if I was real or if someone was playing with them (like a cat and mouse kind of thing), but they were gracious and quoted me as writing “NCPR is essential to our wonderful community.”
Turns out, in a brief correspondence with June, who is the membership front-lady, they actually have a few dog members! She did confirm I was their first cat…and stated that they were always glad to add a new species to their membership rolls.
I’d say they are pretty far along the species-relative curve.
Please note my new blog list to the right. Here you can go straight to the cool NCPR news blog and to another invaluable Adirondack blog resource, the Adirondack Almanack.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
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.

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.
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