Sprinkler Attack!

Posted on September 17, 2014 by Molly

We'd been warned. We even took measures to avoid it. But the onslaught of the ferocious streams of water that pelted our tent after midnight still came as a shock.

We knew that there was a sprinkler system at the park. But due to budget cuts, there were notices on the park website stating that the water had been shut down. The nice showers and flush toilets would not be available to us, but we were willing to rough it.

What wasn't clear was whether the shutdown included the sprinkler system or not. The abundance of lush green grass was a hint, so I wandered over to talk to the camper where a few folks were sitting out enjoying the evening. They didn't know the status of the sprinklers. But being veterans of the park, they did inform me about the sprinkler guards. Short half-cylinders with stakes were available to direct the spray away from a tent. What an ingenious idea! Since we had unwittingly erected our tent within a few feet of a sprayer, we put one of the guards in place, just in case.

Not long after midnight, sure enough the sprinklers started up. We could hear them in other areas of the park, and within half an hour the one right behind our tent activated. But the guard did its work, and we were safe. We thought.

We had left the front flap of our tent open because it was so warm. When a light spray filtered through our screen, blown from a distant tap, we thought it would be prudent to close the flap. No sooner had we done so when another sprinkler started up. This one was a totally different variety. It was a strong stream that shot out with a much greater range, pivoting 360 degrees. It didn't take long to reach our tent. Wham! It pelted the front of the tent as it passed. But our trusty rain fly held and we stayed dry, even as it continued its rotation sending round after round of water at us.

That wasn't all, though. The spray also doused every inch of the picnic shelter where we'd left our bikes, panniers, shoes and other remaining articles for the night. A quick foray out into the wet night revealed puddles on top of our panniers, and a dripping table. Shuffling our gear to the dryest spot I could find, I retreated to the tent.

I guess with such a dry climate, watering only works when applied in abundance. Those sprinklers kept up for three hours, alternating positions around the park. Even when those within range of the tent shut down, I could hear them start up elsewhere, and I couldn't let go of the worry that our gear was getting soaked again. Not much sleep was had, especially when you add frequent trains rumbling past.

On a more positive note, we were treated to a nice sunrise. (Okay, so only Rich saw it and took this picture.) And the air dried our not-too-wet belongings fairly quickly. Let's hear it for those zip-lock bags.

Yes, it was a memorable night.

Are We There Yet?

Posted on September 17, 2014 by Molly

I was under the mistaken impression that as soon as we started following the Columbia River west, we would be in “the gorge.” My lack of homework showing. So despite following the river around the bend and another 50 miles downstream, we still have another day or so before the transformation from desert climate to the lush green gorge between mountains. We're just not there yet.

As a result, the dry rocky landscape continues. There is a certain beauty in it, and we found some especially interesting formations while turning the corner of the river. Ready for a snack, I pulled over into a roadside pull-out. It just happened to be at the Two Sisters rocks. Not a bad place for a rest and a short respite from the big trucks on the road. While that was one of the harrier sections of highway we've traveled, overall the semi drivers have been universally courteous on this trip. Unless there is an oncoming vehicle, they pull over to give us extra room away from their big bulk and strong slip-stream.

In addition, the hot, dry and sunny weather that has been the norm persists. Today turned into a real scorcher. There was little wind, and it actually felt much better cycling and creating a breeze than it did stopping to rest.

Originally this was to be a short day, going only 37 miles to the Crow Butte State Park where we planned to camp. But a conversation with our Warm Showers host last night revealed that the park had a large population of rattlesnakes and scorpions! Being the Minnesotans we are, totally without experience with snakes and posessing a healthy fear of them, we quickly revised our plans. We targeted a small campground in Roosevelt WA, which made for a 60 mile day instead.

Normally 60 miles would not faze us. But throw in temperatures well into the 80s and our strength was zapped prematurely. The miles seemed endless, and never mounted up quickly enough. To add to the equation, our various map apps disagreed on whether there was even a gas station near the campground, and the presence of a café was mere rumor. We'd stocked up on food just in case, but the thought of a cold drink and a late lunch sure was appealing. If ever we got there!

The road sign read Mini Mart and the word “Open” lifted our hearts. Stepping inside the door revealed a tidy shop/café, exceeding all our hopes. We sat down gratefully in air conditioned comfort and enjoyed the best tasting meal in ages. Having cooled down, filled our stomachs, refilled our water bottles and splashed water on our faces, we happily cycled down to set up camp in the park by the river. We are already planning to return for breakfast tomorrow. I have my heart set on the huckleberry pancakes.

We made it. For today, we're finally there.

Grand Coulee Dam Camping

Posted on September 13, 2014 by Molly

Cycling to the Grand Coulee Dam, we were surrounded by golden wheat fields. Farms stretched as far as we could see, just as they have since we left Spokane. We could see the long parallel rows where tractors had recently harvested the grain, it's stalks making interesting patterns in the fields. Although it was fairly flat, there were plenty of ups and downs as the terraine undulated, and we could often see long straight stretches of road in front of us.

I saw the road sign with the truck pointing downhill, but I thought it was overkill as the descent was fairly modest. Then suddenly, the road became twisty and huge cliffs rose all around me. The landscape changed entirely, with scruffy vegetation covering the rough mounds and the road plummeting down through what had become a canyon. Down, down, down it went. For six miles! Dread filled my thoughts as I pondered the reality that we'd probably have to climb back up from this abyss. So it was with great relief that I saw glimpses of Lake Roosevelt ahead of me. It was still a long way down, but at least I knew our destination lay at the bottom of this free fall.

We camped at Spring Canyon in the Roosevelt National Recreation area. It was a beautiful spot, right on the lake, surrounded by wilderness rather then the bustle of a town. We knew it was several miles to get to the dam, but what wasn't apparent on the map was just how hilly that distance would be! We were thankful that we no longer were loaded down with gear as we made our way over to explore Grand Coulee Dam.

Despite being surrounded by grand sights, my favorite part of the whole day was the evening. Heading down to the lake to see the beach area, I was drawn to the long docks at the boat launch. I plopped down at the end of the longest one and didn't move for the next hour. The sun still held its warmth, the air was still and it was so serene. I remained through sunset, feeling greater calm than I have yet on this whole trip. The outdoors is the best lodging ever. We really must do more camping.

The Father of our National Parks

Posted on September 3, 2014 by Molly

I admit I didn't even know there was a Theodore Roosevelt National Park. But if I think about my history lessons, it seems more than appropriate that this man who set aside millions of acres of land for conservation purposes has a park honoring his name.

Making our way westward to begin our cycling trip, the Cottonwood Campground in this park was our targeted destination for our first night's stay. As we neared Medora, North Dakota the scenery developed the unique features of the Badlands. Buttes with distinctly colored strata interspersed wtih canyons covered in grasses and prairie shrubs dominated the landscape. Some of the mounds were more volcanic with fascinating shapes that resembled sand castles.

Theodore Roosevelt National Park is as understated as its reputation. It is an unassuming park whose greatest features are its natural beauty and wildlife. Its major activities are scenic drives and trails for hiking and horse back riding. Even our campground provided only the most basic of services. But it bordered a river and was tucked right into the dramatic sculptures of the land, which was of more interest to us anyway.

Up with the sun in the morning, we set off on the 36 mile circle drive through the south unit of the park. We had originally planned to cycle the route, but time constraints dictated that we cover it by car instead. The sky was blue and cloudless, and the rising sun set off the scenery to its greatest advantage. In addition, the park's natural inhabitants seemed to be especially active and abundant. Bison and wild horses dotted the landscape, and didn't seem to mind us passing by in close proximity. Prairie dog towns were frequent and bustling with activity. The little critters chirped at us in annoyance yet carried on popping in and out of their holes, keeping us entertained as we tried to take pictures.

The passing of Labor Day stripped the park of its peak visitors, leaving us to enjoy our drive in near solitude. Rich could take in the sights even while navigating the narrow curvy roads, and we took liberties with stopping to gawk or take photos. It was the ideal way to take it all in.

In sharp contrast, we are now headed to one of the best known of all U.S. National Parks – Glacier. I expect we will share its grandeur with a few more visitors. But the benefit is that its glory has been preserved for future generations. I think Teddy Roosevelt would approve.

Tending the Light

Posted on June 18, 2014 by Molly

We knew that Crisp Point Lighthouse was remote yet charming, but nothing prepared us for the beautiful sight that greeted us upon our arrival. Not only was the tower in good repair – having been brought back from the brink of endangerment in 1997 – but it’s supporters have rebuilt it’s service building, constructed a visitor center and landscaped the area with boardwalks and plantings to protect the dunes. It’s truly a testament to a dedicated group of individuals in the Crisp Point Light Historical Society. Along with a thorough orientation by the volunteers who preceded us on site, we knew we were off to a good start for our 5-day stint as lighthouse hosts.

We have easily settled into our job of manning the visitor center. There we are surrounded by an impressive array of lighthouse souvenirs to sell, along with displays of historical items. It is easy to linger and read the various pieces of literature in our downtime, absorbing more lighthouse history. With plenty of slow periods, we can easily take turns minding the shop and wandering the grounds.Greeting visitors is the best part of our duties. At times the whole parking lot is full, and at others we have a slow flow of customers who dribble in one vehicle at a time. Some even come by dirt bike or ATV. But they are all unique and come for different reasons. For those new to the lighthouse, just surviving the road to reach it feels like an achievement, but invariably worth it. And there are those who have been coming for years. They have great stories to tell, having seen the place before it’s recent improvements. Or when they could walk the beach in front of the lighthouse – land which has since been reclaimed by Lake Superior. We even met a man who once spent hours in the cold October Lake Superior waters to help build barriers to protect the lighthouse – all done by hand. And then there are the avid lighthouse collectors, on a quest to visit as many lighthouses as possible. Finally, those who come for a different reason entirely – rock hunting on the beach. All have something to share, enriching our own experience while on duty.

Outside our lighthouse obligations our life is pretty simple here. We have a campsite in a tidy enclosure, surrounded by the sturdy boardwalks leading to the lighthouse, beach and viewing areas. It has everything we need – a grill, fire ring, picnic table and soft sand under our tent for comfortable sleeping.

The longer we are here, the easier it is to surrender to this existence. Our world is small, but the beaches and the horizon stretch forever. Our options are limited, but I have little need for much besides a good book to read. Our technology is rendered useless, but I don’t really miss it. In fact, it’s quite liberating not being a slave to the internet.This place is a photographer’s dream. At this time of year we can see both sunrises and sunsets, with the lighthouse adding a dramatic setting. Even I tend to carry my camera around wherever I go. Somehow the lighthouse takes on a different appearance throughout the day, and we never tire of looking for new angles or shots to take. Theoretically we have pure dark for vivid stars and night skies, although the clouds have not obliged on that front. But a short cloudburst this evening delivered a stunning rainbow – an unexpected gift.

Being able to go up in the lighthouse tower is a treat, particularly in the off- hours. From there we can survey our surroundings, seeing it from a new vantage point. A perk of the job. And the visitor center has proven to be a godsend. Numerous times we have sought shelter there, whether it be from the wind, the rain or the ravenous mosquitoes. A haven for hassled campers.

Yes, it’s a good gig we have here. Definitely worth repeating. We’ll be back again next year to tend the light.

Crisp Point’s Many Faces

Posted on June 17, 2014 by Molly

In the four days we've been at Crisp Point Lighthouse so far, this coastline of Lake Superior has served up a varied selection of weather. While tent camping here we are naturally tied to the elements, and all that Mother Nature brings our way. So far, she continues to entertain us with her many moods.

We arrived on a foggy, misty and brooding morning. The wind was howling, blowing off the lake and seemed to strip away every ounce of warmth I could muster. I spent that day shivering, piling on layers of clothes I'd packed for just such circumstances, including my winter jacket. But I did wonder how I'd survive five days huddled in those same layers.

Despite the conditions, the lighthouse grounds fascinated us. The tower stood tall against the elements, claiming its place as safeguard for the coast. Even when the skies cleared, the waves continued to crash furiously against the shore providing an angry display of power, and a constant sound that lulled us to sleep that night.

The wind abated on our second day, and left mosquitoes in swarming its wake. Not everything can be perfect here, and these pests let us know it. I'm usually fairly tolerant, but I've never seen such hungry hoards before. It was enough to drive me to wear a dorky hat smothered in bug spray or seek refuge in the visitors center. At night they swarmed between our inner screen tent and rain fly in noisy frustration at being unable to reach us for their next meal. Only then did we feel we had won the battle, temporarily.

Yesterday afternoon a storm appeared to be brewing. Fortunately, it didn't materialize but it did bring huge gusts of wind that persisted for the remainder of the day. Our tent blew over three times before we finally gave up and collapsed it, anchoring it with rocks. And our screen tent pulled up its stakes and blew right off Rich who was sitting in it at the time. Sleep was hard to come by that night as the tent pulsated in the wind, the sides alternately collapsing in toward us and flapping away. I'm sure it was only our bodies that anchored it to the ground.

Today, in contrast, it's hot and sunny. The light wind is out of the south and the lake calmly laps the beach. We can see out into the water, with it's varying colors. It's a perfect day for walking the beach, which seems to be a bigger attraction to our visitors than the lighthouse today. I'm happy to sit by the water's edge and read in between the slow flow of guests.

My favorite times of the day are morning and evening. We have the place to ourselves then, a powerful feeling of good fortune to be surrounded by this natural beauty. Mornings are magical. Emerging from the tent in time to catch the sunrise leaves hours to enjoy the golden colors of the low sun as the shoreline awakens. It's peaceful, quiet and different every day.

Sunset comes late here. And we've had some beauties. By the time the light fades, I'm already thinking about a campfire – a camping requirement, in my opinion. Once the fire is established and roaring, I love watching the glow of the red-hot coals underneath. To add to the allure, the crackling of the fire is accompanied by the rhythmic flow of the waves on the beach in close proximity. The other night I could see a distinct line of red in the distance marking the sun's departure over the horizon, and the rhythmic repetition of the lighthouse's signal light. A pleasing combination.

Tomorrow is guaranteed to be different from today. I'm looking forward to what Crisp Point will deliver for us.

The Angels of Grand Manan

Posted on August 13, 2013 by Molly

I had never heard of Grand Manan Island until my cousin Judy recommended it for our cycling trip. My first hurdle was convincing Rich to add this detour to our trip. But we're both in agreement now – it was well worth the few extra miles of cycling and two days to come here. It didn't hurt that we had a warm sunny day for the ferry trip over from Blacks Harbor and could sit outside and enjoy the view.

Ready to board the ferry

Molly enjoying the top deck of the ferry

Approaching the island, we could see campsites perched on the cliffs. Little did we know that just minutes later, we would be setting up our own tent on that very spot! We had only one word for the location – WOW. The Hole in the Wall Campground is modest and humble, friendly and has the most phenomenal campsites. We had all the view we needed right there. In fact, I saw five meteors and two brilliant red sunrises from right inside our tent. Rich saw seals just offshore, and heard whales breaching during the night. What more could we need?

Campsite views and the Hole in the Wall

Enter the angels. Two young women, Mel and Chantal, took a campsite nearby shortly after we arrived. Heading to the grocery store, which was more than a few miles away, they offered to take us to get groceries. Offer quickly accepted! We soon had the makings for a picnic dinner and breakfast, and were able to reallocate the time we would have spent cycling to the store enjoying our environs instead.

It didn't end there. We were just about to head out on our bikes to explore the island the next morning, when Mel and Chantal came by. They were going to take the ferry over to Whitehead Island. Did we want to come along? Soon Mel was piloting us to the far end of the island. First we went to see the Southwest Head Lighthouse. While that was an unimpressive structure, it was perched on amazing cliffs. The best views were down a short trail which we might never have found on our own.

Cliffs at Southwest Head

Molly at Southwest Head

The small free car ferry took us to a small island with little more than a fishing village and an old lighthouse. We walked to a secluded beach beyond the lighthouse, relishing the solitude and quiet shore. Poking at seaweed, checking out shells, rocks and other sea litter left behind by the tide was all the entertainment we needed.

Fishing boats at Whitehead Island

Lobster traps on the dock

Our angels - Chantal and Mel

Traveling by car certainly allowed us to see more of the islands than we could have covered on our bikes. But it did far more than that. Mel and Chantal were a wealth of information and tidbits about the island, which is a favorite destination for each of them. We shared stories, laughed a lot and enjoyed a day of camaraderie. The scenery was unparalleled and the company unbeatable.

My cousin Judy was right. Grand Manan is a heavenly place. She just didn't know about the angels.

P.S. Mel and Chantal – if you leave a comment, I will send you pictures. I have some good shots of you!

Cycling en Route

Posted on August 1, 2013 by Molly

Having pushed through Ontario, our reward was having short driving days for the remainder of our trip to the East coast and time to do a few bike rides. After all, it's not enough that we are heading out to start a 2,000 mile bike trip. We still want to cycle through some of the scenic areas along the way.

Our first stop was the Lake Champlain Islands. A string of islands at the top of the long narrow lake, they are joined by causeways and crisscrossed by bike routes. We pitched our tiny tent in the Grand Isle State Park Campground and set off to explore the island by bike. It was a hot, sunny afternoon but most of the cycling roads clung to the lakeshore, and just looking out at the deep blue water was refreshing.

The affluence of the area was unmistakable, with quaint homes immaculately landscaped and picturesque little villages full of artsy shops and restaurants. Yet in the interior, i was surprised to see that there were also working farms, busily making hay as we passed. I can never resist a Farmers' Market, and we stopped at one with everything from ethnic foods to iced cider to homespun wool. Oh yes, and a few vegetables and local blueberries as well.

Molly cycling on Grand Isle

Rich sampling food at the farmers' market

Today brought us to Dartmouth College, Rich's alma matter. Naturally, our first stop had to be the boathouse, where young crew members were going out for their morning training. As a former oarsman, it was tough for Rich to drag himself away from the rowing to begin our bike ride.

Our route took us up the Connecticut River on the Vermont side, hugging the river's edge and cycling through pretty little towns. We had another picture perfect day, and naturally couldn't resist stopping for ice cream at the far point of our ride. Those were the biggest “small” cones we'd ever seen! But we didn't complain. We returned via the New Hampshire side of the river, encountering some major climbs and descents on that route. Good training for our upcoming trip, I kept reminding myself. I especially enjoyed going through Lyme NH, which Rich and I visited when we were just dating, oh so many years ago.

Students rowing at Dartmouth

Rich cycling along the Connecticut River

Yummy ice cream at Whippi Dip!

Molly in Lyme NH

It's a good thing we didn't do a longer ride, or get larger ice cream cones. We barely had our bikes back on the car when the afternoon's threatening rain materialized in a heavy downpour. Whew, timing is everything! We can only hope to continue that luck on our Grand Gaspé Tour.

Have Tent Will Travel

Posted on May 24, 2013 by Molly

Day 5 - Chatfield to Mantorville 56 miles

Day 6 – Chatfield to Mantorville 56 miles

We finally did it. We are camping tonight. Just not where we thought we’d be. Instead of returning to the Mississippi River Road and staying in Lake City tonight, our route took a sudden turn to the West. We continued in that direction to Mantorville. Not even on my map.

The day started innocently enough, and with a wonderful diversion before we even began cycling. We stayed at the Oakenwald Terrace B&B last night, and came downstairs this morning to feast on a sumptuous 4-course breakfast. We hadn’t had time to explore the house yesterday, so our hostess took us on a thorough tour after breakfast. First, it is the largest house we’ve ever stayed in – the rooms are innumerable. Second, what we found so fascinating is that it is the family home of the innkeepers. So not only are the furnishings and collections of china, silver and figurines family heirlooms, but they have continued to be used throughout the years. We loved hearing the history of the rooms and seeing the beautifully preserved and well-maintained craftsmanship of the home. It is truly a treasure.

We headed off in the bright sunshine with the promise of good weather throughout the day. It was a later start than normal, but we had no deadlines to meet and a long day of daylight. We left town in good spirits, and aimed for Lake City. Our route took us Northeast, and as soon as we hit the open farm fields we ran smack into NE winds. This time our battle was compounded by the fact that we were in rolling farmland, so we had continual hills as well as the wind to contend with. And it appeared to be a losing battle. By the time we reached St. Charles just 14 miles away, we knew we were not going to make Lake City. Rather than continue to fight the headwinds, Rich decided the most prudent thing to do was to change plans, work with the wind instead of against it, and head West then North to Northfield.

Now I don’t give up easily, even when presented with good logic. So I have to admit to being an unhappy camper (pun intended!) at turning away from the river and ditching the scenic route we’d chosen. It didn’t help that our view was reduced to endless miles of mostly flat freshly tilled farmland with fewer trees and towns to break up the monotony. The road continued straight west for mile after mile, and we had to weave our way through Rochester and it’s traffic. It’s not a route I would recommend.

Our turning point came during a late lunch stop. Searching the map for a park for camping, we stumbled on the town of Mantorville. Not only did it have camping sites right in town, but it boasted a 12-square-block downtown that was all on the National Historic Registry. Suddenly we were re-energized! We had a destination and something to look forward to exploring. Life got a lot better again after that.

We found the campground to be a lovely area right on the Zumbro River. Like all other rivers right now, it is swollen and flowing rapidly – a wonderful sound to lull us to sleep. Our new tent set up easily, and we were soon off to explore the town on foot. We had dinner at an old restaurant in town, and finished in time to take some pictures in the glowing late light of the day.

Having our own tent and sleeping bags definitely lends itself to a high degree of flexibility, as today illustrates. In fact, I learned a new term on this trip – apparently touring cyclists take great pride in being “self-contained.” We don’t quite meet the criteria as we do not carry food and cook kits. We choose to limit our weight to just sleeping gear. But that’s good enough for me. I expect to be warm and cozy tonight in our tent. And I’m already looking forward to my latte in the morning at the coffeehouse down the street.

Cycling and Executive Decisions

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Molly

Day 4 - Prairie du Chien to Caledonia 62 miles

By all rights, you should not be reading this post. We are supposed to be in a tent, sans Internet. But we caved. Instead, we are in a modest but well-equipped Mom and Pop motel room. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Today we crossed the Mississippi River and headed back North. It started out really well. We were on a much smaller road with little traffic. We were at river level, meaning it was nice and flat. And the wind was finally behind us for a change. The first thing that I noticed was that in Iowa, they managed to squeeze houses, shacks and mobile homes between the railroad tracks and the river. Some of them were wisely built on stilts. I'd just never seen an elevated mobile home before! But it was justified – the river has just come down from flooding its banks, and trees were still marooned in the middle of the river.

Trailers alongside the Mississippi River

Early on we stopped at a National Monument to see some effigy mounds. There we met friendly volunteers, one of whom clued us in to the long, steep hill we were about to climb. We were grateful for the forewarning, as the 3-mile hill lived up to his predictions. What we didn't know was that it was only the first of four such brutal ascents we would face today! Every time we left the edge of the river, it meant a stiff hill to mount the bluffs. As long as we were in river country, that meant a steep downhill back to river level. Rich loved plummeting down at great speed, but to me (who hates speeding down) it was just unravelling all the hard work we'd just done. Our final hill took us inland for our detour into southeastern Minnesota. That time it felt rewarding to stay “up top” for the remainder of the day's ride.

Looking back down the hill doesn't do it justice!

We were definitely in the heart of farmland, first in Iowa and then Minnesota. Pretty farm buildings, tilled fields, curious cows and a few horses were the primary features of the landscape. We even set one herd of cows off in a running pack as we passed. Given the quiet country roads, it was a very peaceful ride.

We managed to spend some extra quality time among the farms while Rich repaired a flat tire on the rear of his bike. It was our first repair job of the trip, and happened as we were closing in on the last major town for the day. While it was a straightforward repair, it did set us behind and Rich in particular was already rather fried from the hill work. (Is this where I mention that considering his 57 years of age and the added burden of carrying camping equipment that he decided it was A-OK to walk up the steepest hills? He said I could… To be fair, then I need also include the fact that I would have been hopeless at replacing that inner tube. So I guess we're even.)

It was at that point when Rich announced he was making an executive decision. We would seek out a modest motel instead of camping tonight. After all, he reasoned, it was our anniversary. Who was I to argue? I did feel a quick pang of regret that we'd given in so easily, but it was easily squelched.

And so it was that we enjoyed a nice dinner and a bottle of wine to celebrate the occasion this evening. It also gave me the opportunity to drag Rich to the Dairy Queen to consume ice cream cones, just like we did on our wedding day 30 years ago. We have plenty of nights to spend in a tent. I enjoyed the outcome of this executive's decision.

Superior Footprints

Life and the Outdoors in the Northland

Tag Archives: Camping

Sprinkler Attack!

Are We There Yet?

Grand Coulee Dam Camping

The Father of our National Parks

Tending the Light

Crisp Point’s Many Faces

The Angels of Grand Manan

Cycling en Route

Have Tent Will Travel

Cycling and Executive Decisions

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