Poudre Canyon; Flattop; Mountains Don’t Care; Yellow-Belly! A Loch in Colorado?

This has been a great hiking week for us. First we hiked the Black Powder Trail in Poudre Canyon, just outside beautiful Fort Collins, Colorado.
Then yesterday Suzanne had lots of work to catch up on, so it was my chance to tackle Flattop Mountain, a “hard” 9 mile round-trip with 3,000 feet of elevation gain, from 9,400 to 12,400 feet. I did the math, and it was a 12% grade; going up was tough, with my pulse rate about the same as when I run hard. At the top it was cold, in the high 40s with a 25 kt wind. I sent this photo from my iPhone, with the caption "Sent from Hooters". Here's the reply I got back from Suzanne: If there is a girl in skimpy, tight orange shorts who took that photo, I am never letting you go off by yourself again!

 

No, it wasn't a Hooter's girl, it was another hiker, David from New Orleans. David had hiked from the back side of the mountain (over my shoulder in the photo) and slept out in a valley without a sleeping bag or tent. (He was traveling ultra-light, and said the temps were quite comfortable).

 

 

 

 

 

 

The views from the top of Flattop Mountain were spectacular. There are only a handful of nearby peaks that are higher, and I was blessed with good weather: only two light showers and one minor thunderstorm that hit when I was back in the trees. Going downhill was much easier for some reason… like, “gravity”. It had taken me 2 and a half hours to climb, and only 2 hours to descend, but the stress on ankles and knees was worse on the return.

 

 

 

 

This trail marker warns of unpredictable weather that can include whiteouts even in summer, and five foot high cairns (piles of rocks) are sited every 50 yards or so to keep you from getting lost and going over a ledge or cliff.

 

 

 

 

 

There weren’t any big animals up top, but lots of yellow-bellied marmots (Marmota flaviventris) who often pose briefly for photos. Marmots live to about 15 years of age. When young males finish their winter hibernation, they leave their burrows and look for mates. A robust, healthy male may have as many as four females living in his burrow by the time winter returns. (One wonders if he gets any rest during this period… hey, not for that reason... I was thinking about all the talking that his girlfriends must be doing before they hibernate and he gets some sleep.)

 

 

 

 

On Thursday, Suzanne was well-rested, while I was pretty bushed from my previous day’s hike. She picked out a “moderate” 6 mile hike with a 1,000 foot elevation gain. She looks pretty chipper in this photo, doesn’t she?

 

 

 

 

This fly fisherman was casting for trout, and caught and released one while I was watching. (You can’t keep them here in the park.) You will note that he has waders on; the water temp is probably in the 50s.

 

 

The lake which was our destination was beautiful, surrounded by mountains and with very few hikers around. Thankfully, everyone respected the serenity and kept their voices to whispers… allowing Her Highness to catch a quick nap.  Actually, she's not sleeping, but gasping for breath.  It seems her sensitivity extends to altitude, and the 10,000-foot-plus elevation left My Lovely Bride a bit winded.

 

 

 

 

The rest may have helped, but she was like a new person after a short  meditation alongside this waterfall.  Funny how that works.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

After we returned home to The Coach, several thunderstorms came through, leaving this lovely double rainbow as a treat. (At first I thought that the Cabernet had gone to my head, but Suzanne assured me that there were, indeed, two rainbows here.) 

Assistant Scribes; Canadian Bacon; Custer’s Last Stand; A Dinner Treat; Cub Lake; New Hiking Friends

As most of you know, My Lovely Bride is an author. Back in Greek and Roman civilizations, scribes wrote on parchment, lambskin scrolls or maybe clay tablets. Suzanne uses a computer, but she has two assistant scribes that some of you have met, but you might have been unaware of their hidden talents. Sometimes they actually use their paws to type for her… making her editing more time consuming, but loads of fun.  

Do you fellow boomers remember Canadian bacon when you were kids? I haven’t seen it in years, but when we were in (duh) Canada, we decided to try their bacon… Wow, it has about 20% of the fat that US bacon has, and is delicious. I got the industrial sized package, so we might be ignoring Kansas bacon for another week or two…

 

 

 

On the way south from Montana to Colorado, we stopped at the Little Big Horn Battlefield. I had mentioned Custer in the previous blog, but wasn’t sure we’d be able to get much time at the National Monument because of the Crow Fair being held nearby… but it worked out well. These markers where Custer and his men fell are on the hillside not far from the Little Bighorn River where 5,000 Indians were camped. He lost over 200 men that morning, a tremendous tactical victory for the Sioux and Cheyenne Indians, but which also led to their ultimate defeat within two years.

 

 

One of the interesting side notes of this action was that Custer had about 40 Indian scouts, mostly Crow, who had signed up with the US Army to help it fight the Sioux and Cheyenne, their historic enemies. Before the battle, Custer sent almost all of his Indian scouts off to safety, likely thinking that they would be treated savagely if captured by the Sioux. One Crow scout, whose English name was White Man Runs Him, said in 1919, “I remember Custer well. The Indians called him Son of the Morning Star. We scouts thought there were too many Indians for Custer to fight. It was the biggest Indian camp I had ever seen.” White Man Runs Him’s tombstone is located a few hundred yards away from the Last Stand markers in the Little Big Horn US National Military Cemetery.

 

 

We had a special treat Monday evening in Fort Collins, Colorado: we were invited over to Donna and Bob Visocky’s for dinner with some of their best friends. Donna created a fabulous gourmet dinner and Bob raided his extensive wine cellar… does this group look happy or what? (From left to right, Suzanne, Ann, Bill, Bonnie, Bob, and Donna; the guys are the "thorns between the roses", so to speak.) Ann’s golf pro husband was absent; having played day one of a golf tournament, scoring a 67 and in the number one position, he decided to stay at the hotel and get some rest (probably a good decision!). Bill departed shortly after this photo was taken… not because Yours Truly insulted him, but to play… HOCKEY! Yes, that game they play on skates, like with “full body contact”. He’s really only 27 years old, but you can see that hockey has already given him grey hair. 
 

We have been frequent moochers… er, I mean, guests… at the Visockys’. Suzanne met Donna through her fabulous online magazine, http://www.bellaspark.com/. Donna organizes spiritual events around the country, and her husband Bob is like me, a strong supporter of his wife’s work but yet not at her spiritual level. Unfortunately, the four of us share the loss of a daughter. Like our Susan, Bob and Donna’s daughter Kristi transitioned to the other side in her 20s. They now hold an annual golf tournament in her name to fund scholarships and a Habitat for Humanity house. These are some of the young people who have been awarded scholarships by Kristi’s Fund. For more information, see http://www.kristisfund.com/about/about.html  

 

 
 
 

Today after Suzanne gave a fabulous phone reading to a lady in Canada, we moved to a campground in Estes Park, Colorado, just a mile from the entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park, one of our favorite places in the USA. We immediately dressed out for hiking, and got a three hour hike in at the Cub Lake Trail.

It’s a lovely area, with a stream from Cub Lake winding through a lush green meadow. The hillside above the meadow was badly burned in a forest fire last October, but it doesn’t diminish the almost sacred feeling of the valley. We saw rabbits, chipmunks, marmots, raven and mule deer (doe and fawn).

 

 

 

  

 

On the trail, Suzanne decided to commune with nature, in the form of this little baby bunny. It was an adorable little thing, only about 6 inches long, and well-hidden in the twigs under a tree. We were lucky to get a glimpse of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

We also met Geoff and Jim, fellow hikers who were coming the other way on the trail. They live in the area, and gave us excellent advice on other trails not to miss. We hope to get together with them next year for some hiking and dinner when we return to Fort Collins. We’ve decided that at least a month is needed to do the hiking and sightseeing here in the National Park and surrounding area.

 

 

 

This last photo is of Cub Lake. It is a sublimely beautiful spot, showing the starkness of the burned forest above the beautiful shades of green in the lake itself. We could have stayed for an hour just watching the colors and light change, but Rudy and Gretchen were awaiting us back at The Coach, and you don’t keep dachshunds long from their dinner… 

New Windows; Lewis and Clark; A Crow Fair; Custer, Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse; I Scream! A Deere View; "Sans Cullottes?"

We are now in Montana, on our way toward Frederick, Colorado, where our new coach will be repaired. Parts are on order, and the big job should take a day or two for technicians to remove one of our slides, replace the metal tracks and bearings, check motors and wiring, etc. They will also repair our automatic jacks/leveling system which is on the fritz. We stayed at Malmstrom AFB for several days to find Your Faithful Correspondent a new computer. Commodore 64s are really hard to procure, so I settled for a new Toshiba Satellite laptop with Windows 8, a touch screen operating system. It is really cool, and based on my past history with Windows XP, this new system should take me only 5 or 6 years to figure out.






Speaking of history, one of my favorite subjects in American history was the Lewis and Clark Corps Discovery expedition back in 1804-06. For those who may be unfamiliar with this expedition, a team of 28 Army men (and one unofficial dog, a Newfoundland named Seaman) were tasked by President Thomas Jefferson to explore and map the recently acquired Louisiana Purchase, traveling from present-day Wood River, Illinois, to the Pacific Ocean. They were also to find a usable transcontinental route, study flora, fauna and natives encountered, and return safely. Along the way they picked up five civilians, including Sacagawea, a Shoshone Indian woman and her husband, a French trapper.

 

 

The expedition completed a heroic and grueling journey across the Great Plains and the Rocky Mountains, most of which had never seen the footprints of a white man. We were fortunate to be stopping in Great Falls, Montana, where the Lewis and Clark Historical Trail Interpretive Center is located.  While Suzanne was giving a phone reading in the coach, I spent a couple of hours at this excellent facility on the south bank of the Missouri River where the intrepid explorers had to portage 18 miles around a series of five cataracts (waterfalls). (This display of them hauling a wood canoe up a 75 foot cliff showed what a daunting and exhausting evolution it was, particularly in July sun and heat.)

 

 

 

During their trans-continental trip, Captains Lewis and Clark encountered hundreds of Indians, and managed to maintain polite, friendly relations with them all. (It’s unfortunate that many later travelers weren’t able to maintain that same relationship.) Only one man died on this epic adventure, probably due to a burst appendix. There were many close calls, mostly due to interactions with grizzly bears. On one occasion, Capt. Clark had shot an elk with his muzzle loading rifle and was attacked by a grizzly before he could reload. Barely making it to the river ahead of the bear, he stood in waist-deep water and fended off the bear with a pike in one hand, holding his rifle above the water with the other. (These were Real Men!)

 

 

 

The Interpretive Center had this well-executed display of a Mandan Tribe home; some of the interesting artifacts were the warrior’s shirt (deerskin and dyed porcupine quills);an antler rake and scapula hoe used by women to till plots of corn and squash (the men were  probably out hunting, warrioring, trading lies and "counting coup" stories, and generally goofing off); a small bucket made of bison (buffalo) heartskin; and a beautiful basket made of box elder bark and dyed willow bark, woven in patterns on a willow frame. Sacagawea and the expedition’s interpreter George Droillard were instrumental in keeping in the good graces of the various tribes that Lewis and Clark met along the way, and added immensely to the sparse body of knowledge about these "original Americans". Toussaint Charboneau, French trapper and Sacagawea's husband, added some gastronomic diversity to the expedition’s somewhat limited cuisine, which consisted mostly of SEVEN POUNDS of meat a day, mostly deer, elk and bison. His recipe for boudin blanc, very similar to Cajun boudin, was to take a bison’s intestine (except the last six feet, which was neither safe nor pleasant to eat), then stuff it with a suet of kidney and shoulder meat, tie off the ends, rinse briefly in river water, and then fry in bear grease. Sounds so yummy!

Suzanne and I also got in a nice bike ride along the Missouri River’s River Edge Trail. Mostly paved for road and hybrid bikes, but part mountain bike single track, it runs along the south river ridge, with expansive views of the Missouri River, the several falls and dams, and the prairie stretching to the horizon, probably looking not too different than when Lewis and Clark stood on this spot in 1804. Here is Yours Truly, alongside the two captains and Sacagawea, gazing at the intimidating cataracts that temporarily delayed the Corps of Discovery’s previously rapid progress.

After departing Great Falls on Saturday, we drove through that part of Montana where Chief Joseph’s Nez Perce tribe made history with their 1,200 mile long fighting retreat  and battles with the US Army after being forcibly removed from their ancestral lands in present-day eastern Oregon. His real name was Hinmuuttu-yalalat, or "Thunder Rolling Down the Mountain". He was known as Young Joseph after his father, Tuekakas, converted to Christianity and was baptized Joseph the Elder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We arrived at our campground in Hardin, Montana, to find the campground almost filled with a military travel club caravan; it was also the weekend of the 95^th annual Crow Fair. The Crow Fair is the largest gathering of North American Indians in the country, and includes daily parades, a rodeo, and the largest teepee village in the world, with approximately 15,000 canvas teepees (buffalo skins being much harder to find these days). This event, appropriately (unless you are a Seventh Cavalry veteran), is sited next to the Little Bighorn National Monument, about 15 miles away from our campground. History buffs will recall that Gen. George Custer’s Seventh Cavalry met with one of its less happy moments there in 1876 when Custer decided to take on a much larger force of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians led by Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse.

 

 

All 263 troopers and the flaxen-haired Custer were surrounded and killed by more than a thousand very angry Indians near the Little Bighorn River; the battle is usually remembered as Custer’s Last Stand. (Custer should have learned some negotiating and cultural awareness lessons from Captains Lewis and Clark!) These two paintings show the battle from both the Indians' and Custer's perspective.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, we arrived too late in the day for the Crow Fair Rodeo, but we were in plenty of time for the campground’s daily ice cream social. Lest you think this is a trivial matter, you may be surprised to learn that My Lovely Bride has a secret craving for ice cream that is not well-known among her friends. She favors Magnum almond bars, but does not discriminate against other flavors or presentations; my specialty, Cherries Jubilee, is normally also well-received.

In closing, I would like you, Faithful Readers, to know that we do not always reside in campground scenic splendor alongside babbling brooks and with glacier and mountain views. Here is the view tonight, in Hardin, Montana, from our coach's front window. The campground owner also mentioned that this site is particularly good for those guests who like to parade around naked (in their RV's, at least) because there is nothing but a field in front of us. (I won't go any further, to protect the privacy and reputations of the guilty and innocent alike, except to say that "Yes, we do dress for dinner.")

Calgary; Stuck Out in High River; Heading Home

We arrived in Calgary on Monday afternoon. What a difference from Banff! It’s like driving from Estes Park, Colorado, in the middle of Rocky Mountain National Park down to Denver, on the western edge of the Great Plains. And where were the cows and saloons? When I was a kid, I remember reading about the Calgary Stampede. But we couldn’t find a single cow, cowgirl/boy or real saloon. They don’t even wear Stetsons here. And the traffic was terrible (cars, not cows or even sheep)! But we were on a mission to find a computer repair shop, and as Suzanne looked at the choices on her computer screen, Lo! There was one just a mile away. We found a parking spot, and I carried my old, unresponsive Dell into the shop and a nice woman named Terri said they’d do their best, but why was I still carting around a relic that runs XP and not Windows 7, for Heaven’s sake. (I didn’t want to tell her that I am a Luddite who would prefer to use a notebook and No. 2 pencils; they don’t crash, after all...)

As we stepped out the door onto the pavement, My Lovely Bride turned left, away from The Coach. Where was she going? “There’s something down this way I need to check out...” Not two doors down was a small sign for “Self Connection”, a metaphysical shop. I knew then that we weren’t going anywhere very soon. (Maybe I could find a nice outdoor café and have a few cups of coffee, several pastries and read the Sunday New York Times cover to cover.)  She went inside while I walked the puppies, and then a half hour later she stepped outside and said to come on in. Self Connection’s owners, Mike and Marla Finch, have a lovely shop filled with everything that Suzanne could want. She already had a couple of books under her arm. Suzanne was very impressed with the energy of Marla and Mike’s center, which includes a classroom, and they agreed to get together during the next year for a “webinar” or an on-site workshop if we get back to Calgary next summer.  

Mike wanted to introduce me to his dog, so I left Rudy and Gretchen in the front with Suzanne. When I walked into the back room, I saw what I thought was a small grizzly bear. Briggs is a 120 lb. Leonberger, a mix between a Great Pyrenees, a St. Bernard, and a Newfoundland. As enormous as Briggs was, he was obviously a very well-mannered lover-dog. Mike was also interested in our sailing adventures, and I told him about Rudy the Sailing Wiener Dog having crossed the Atlantic with us on our sloop Liberty. (It took me about 5 seconds to visualize Mike rowing Briggs ashore in a 10 foot long dinghy for a walk and I almost burst out laughing, but restrained myself, for once...) 

There was a very important reason for stopping in the Calgary area; about 40 miles south was an Itasca RV dealer, High River RV, that had agreed to repair one of our three slide-outs, which had begun acting very badly, grinding and moving erratically on its four tracks. In fact, we had not even extended that slide for the past two weeks because had it gotten stuck in the out position while in the Rockies, we would be in “deep doo-doo”. We had heard that High River was particularly hard hit by flooding last month, and as we drove through town, it was evident that complete recovery was a long way off. Parts of town still don’t have electricity, water and sewer service, and blue porta-potties were scattered through the business and residential areas. Hardly any businesses were open downtown, but fortunately the RV complex was away from the flooded area.


Just down the street was a large ServiceMaster recovery staging area, with long lines of workers about to start or just having finished their shift cleaning out mud, ripping out soaked dry wall, and other critical tasks in saving the town’s homes and businesses. It reminded me of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, when we went back to New Orleans to see my old family home, a two story house only a half mile from the major levee break on the 17^th Street Canal. Lake Pontchartrain’s waters had risen two feet above the upstairs floors, washing away a couple of smaller houses on our block, and even though our visit was a year after Katrina, it was still a disaster. We felt very sad for the people of High River, many of whom worked at the RV dealership where we had just arrived.

Tuesday was entirely devoted to trying to repair our damaged slide-out mechanism. Unfortunately, it appears to be what is called in the Navy “a cascading casualty”, first, a design fault, with insufficiently sized bearings having been installed to support the heavy slide carrying the kitchen and living area furniture, which then caused the second problem, one of the two motors having burnt out because of excessive loads. There was an additional issue in that replacement parts would have to be shipped from Indiana to Canada, with a likely week-long shipping and Customs process delay.

 After talking to a Winnebago factory sales rep who just happened to be visiting that day, we decided to get the slide retracted and drive south to Longmont, Colorado, where we had purchased The Coach. That way we should be arriving in the Denver area at the same time as our parts. Sounds like a good plan, right? Well, there is an old Army saying that “No plan ever survives initial contact with the enemy.” In this case, the “enemy” was the now-extended slide that decided it didn’t want to retract. These photos show the series of maneuvers the RV repair team had to use to get the slide in so we could drive away. Starting with a couple of guys pushing while I hit the buttons for the surviving motor, the slide would only move in a few inches, and was canted at a 10 degree angle, instead of sliding in level. NOT GOOD!

We then recruited some additional shop guys to push, but the slide still would not go in.

Finally, they got a padded wooden support and used a jack to lift the slide level. With one motor and lots of strong arms, the slide finally retracted 98% of the way in, and we were again ready to travel.

We also had limited success in getting my computer partially repaired, at least to be able to retrieve most of its data. The corrupted Windows operating system was reinstalled, but wireless capability and my contact list were lost, so I'm still relying on Suzanne's laptop for connectivity until I get a replacement... let’s see, I’ll ask my Minnesnowta IT advisor, “Hey, Terri, is the Commodore 64 still available at Best Buy?”

In celebration of our last night in Canada, we decided to splurge on a dinner out. First try was Bistro Provence, in Okotoks, Alberta, but the $45 entrees put me off my feed... (How can you ask those prices in a town with a name you can hardly pronounce? I think the answer is that it’s one of the closest restaurants to where the hundreds of out of town recovery workers are staying...) Anyway, we both agreed that the $14.95 Indian buffet would be a lot more sensible. Here is Suzanne enjoying her naan, butter chicken, beef curry and daal.

As I complete today’s blog, My Lovely Bride is guiding us down Canada’s Highway 4, with 65 miles to go to the US border at Sweetgrass, Montana. We have truly enjoyed our time in British Columbia and Alberta. The scenery was spectacular, the wildlife visible but non-aggressive, and the people delightful. We are looking forward to returning next summer and spending more time in both provinces, with much more hiking on the schedule, as well as keeping Suzanne busy with presenting workshops and giving readings.

Icefield Parkway; Bear! Train Whistles; A Solo Hike; Docs on Bikes

On Saturday, we took a long drive north from Lake Louise up the Icefield Parkway, touted by none other than National Geographic as one of the most beautiful drives on earth. It didn’t take long to prove that magazine correct. This was the view from Bow Summit, with Peyto Lake below our viewpoint. The turquoise lake looks almost frozen-over, but its 50 degree water temp is still a bit brisk for swimming.

These hanging glaciers are actually several miles away, and much larger than they appear in a telephoto lens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Canadian Rockies around here are mostly limestone, with lots of sheer cliffs for rock climbers to enjoy. Unfortunately, the glaciers are receding, so if you want to see them in their splendor, book a trip here sooner rather than later!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just past that viewpoint, Suzanne looked in the rear view mirror, gasped, and pulled over for a photo of Crowfoot Glacier. It’s hard to imagine that during the last Ice Age, glaciers filled all of these U-shaped valleys, and much of North America, with thousands of cubic miles of moving ice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the drive, we encountered a traffic jam (that’s more than three cars up here). The center of attraction was this very photogenic black bear. (My Lovely Bride suggested that I snuggle up to him for a buddy-buddy photo shot. I declined…)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glancing down from the highway, we saw a small riverside campground (almost deserted) and decided to take a peek. The gurgling stream, mountain views, and warm sunshine made this an idyllic venue for Suzanne to meditate while I stretched and read a book.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because we had added two days to our planned visit here in Lake Louise, the campsite we had been in for three days had been booked for the weekend, so we had to move to another spot. Although we lost our mountain and river view, it seemed like a good spot until midnight, when the first of 8 late night trains came down the tracks only 50 yards from The Coach, each engineer ensuring that the tracks were clear of bear and elk by loudly announcing the train’s approach with a ten second series of blasts on their whistles. Suzanne must have intuitively known I wasn’t sleeping, because she kept saying aloud, “Oh, my God.” My initial subconscious thought was that Suzanne’s dad, a train engineer himself, was sending her a greeting… after the second and third, though, I knew we had simply been allocated a campsite that the Canadians didn’t want! Unfortunately, we had scheduled an early reveille for the next morning, and constant interruptions weren’t helping our beauty rest.

The purpose of rolling out of our bunk early was to complete a steep mountain hike above Lake Louise, up to the Plain of the Six Glaciers, a 9 mile/4 ½ hour hike with 1000 foot elevation gain where your efforts are rewarded by fabulous glacier vistas and a Tea House. We had been looking forward to this hike all week, but since my back is still in recovery mode, My Lovely Hiker Bride had to do this one on her own. After a spinach and feta omelet breakfast, she set off to beat the crowds while I stayed back with Rudy and Gretchen.  Here is a view of the trail and Lake Louise far below. (She looks pretty perky for having climbed that far!)

 

Part of the trail is along a rockslide area, where a safety cable provides a modicum of security for those not at ease with several hundred feet of “exposure”… that’s a mountaineering euphemism for “potential free fall”! (As climbers joke, the first few seconds are exciting… it’s the last half second that’s no fun at all.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suzanne reached the top of the trail to find a viewpoint with several splendid glaciers that she had to herself for a while. Good think she started early, because several other hikers started arriving as she began her descent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While on the trail, Suzanne had met two doctors, Marisa and Lis, whom she invited over for a glass of wine. We enjoyed their company immensely – they are bicycle camping here in Banff National Park during their summer vacation. Both are runners, Lis in training for her first half marathon and Marisa having run Boston last year. (She was at the 24.5 mile point when the terrorist bombs exploded. Fortunately she was not hurt.)

 

 

 

 

 

Tired but happy after a day of mountaineering, My Lovely Bride was happy to let me make her a pasta dinner with sausage, sun dried tomatoes, garlic and olive oil. As the shadows lengthened on our last full day in the Canadian Rockies, we both wished that we had planned more time here. Tomorrow we head for Calgary, Alberta, where I hope to get my computer repaired and some corrective work done on The Coach.