Discover PCF

In this episode - A Controlled Fall . . .

Summer is here; as you hit the hiking trails, let me suggest a technique you might find helpful or at least a challenge to try. I call it the PCF technique "Patrick's Controlled Fall."

If you live near any large hills, I challenge you to at least try this technique. I stumbled upon this during my adventures wilderness backpacking in the Sierras a few years ago. Of course, this is not for everyone; falling gracefully takes coordination and skill. Me, I'm able to practice the technique when hiking Daley Ranch in Escondido, CA.

During a recent Saturday morning hike, my conversation with Lori went something like this, "This may sound crazy to you, but training for this year's High Sierra trip, I'm going to practice my controlled fall technique to improve my decent pace; on the mountain trails."

Her response was, "I'll see you back at the truck."

"I'll wait for you at the bottom of the hill; we're not in a hurry."

Here's the procedure.

First, you will need a pair of easily adjustable; I prefer aluminum (or fiberglass) quality Trekking poles. A superb set of poles will have Quick Locks vs. Twist Locks and ruled markings, usually in centimeters (cm).

With a pole in each hand, hold them about shoulder-width apart to determine your correct length before descending, be sure to have the wrist straps attached. Adjust the height, so your arms are parallel to the ground, wrists straight, at about waist level. This is the recommended height for hiking flat terrain. For my height (about 5 ft. 7 inches), my preferred shaft length is about 130 cm. Now extend each rod another 20 cm. from that position.

As you begin your descent, lengthen your stride; (you will feel like you're falling at first). As each foot comes forward, pump your arms; the hand with the corresponding pole has extended in front of you at a 45-degree angle. You will develop a rhythm. It's essential to keep your feet straight and avoid pronation. This allows you to take full advantage of the non-slip tread design of your hiking boots. Using the wrist strap as your support, hold the poles loosely as you jab them directly to the ground. Keep your wrists straight and pivot the opposite pole into position as you stride.

There will be times that you will slip, don't panic; your hiking poles will prevent you from falling. This cadence allows you to descend rather steep trails at a fantastic pace. With practice, you will get into the "flow" of the exercise and make great time.

Now, I know what you're thinking; WHAT? This sounds crazy! Hah ha, Yes, Lori's sentiment exactly. If you are brave and just a bit crazy, give Patrick's Controlled Fall a try!

Disclaimer: The participant hereby warrants that they are physically fit and able to participate in (Patrick's Controlled Fall) without any undue risk. We are not responsible for accidents.

On second thought, maybe it's best not to try this ridiculous maneuver.

I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Comments

Sunflowers, French Steel, and the Yellow Jersey

Watching Le Tour de France this year, I found myself transported back to August 1983 as the Peloton in Stage 10, Bastille Day, flowed through the French countryside like a brightly colored ribbon. I was in my twenties, visiting family in the Charente-Maritime region of France, completely obsessed with bicycle racing—and convinced I was much stronger than I was. My connection to cycling—and to France—runs deep. I was born in France, and my very first real road bike, at age fifteen, was a Mercier . To me, it wasn’t just a bicycle; it was a work of art made from beautiful French steel. I rode that bike for miles, through high school, into college, and until the day someone decided they needed it more than I did. I hope they at least appreciated the craftsmanship. Its untimely disappearance led me to a Schwinn Voyageur, and later, when I started racing around Illinois, to a Raleigh Competition . But during that summer of ’83, while staying with my Uncle Jean Paul in Lagord, just north of L...

The Big Rip and the First Tee

The telescope (Celestron) sits quietly under its cover, temporarily blinded by Southern California's annual meteorological hostage situation – June Gloom. Somewhere above that thick gray ceiling, photons that began their journey before humans appeared are streaming across the cosmos, only to be intercepted by a marine layer that seems to have veto power over astronomy. Instead of observing the universe, I find myself imagining – The End of Everything (Astrophysically Speaking) by physicist Katie Mack. According to modern cosmology, the universe may eventually end in a Big Rip, a Big Crunch, Heat Death, Vacuum Decay, or some other catastrophe that sounds suspiciously like a rejected heavy-metal album title. Astrophysicists spend their careers calmly discussing the possibility that reality itself could suddenly cease to exist because a quantum field had a bad day. It's a remarkable way to start a Saturday morning. One moment you're contemplating the ultimate fate of spacetime...

The Places You'll Go . . .

Well, the time has arrived. Yes, July's drawing near, And somehow I've managed to last seven years! I've analyzed forecasts and studied the trends, While spreadsheets multiplied without seeming to end. We've planned for the sunshine, the storms, and the load, while Mother Nature kept changing the code. But through all the numbers, the forecasts, and charts, the best part of Cenergy's always been hearts. The people beside me, year after year, Made even the toughest challenges clear. To the bright, talented folks reading this today, The future is yours now—you're well on your way. And unlike my era, here's the key: You’ll work with AI just as smooth as can be. The reports that took hours may take only minutes. The models you build with intelligence in it. The data will flow faster than ever before, While AI handles tasks that are mostly a bore! But here's my advice as I head out the door: Technology changes, but people matter more. AI can predict, calcula...

Rediscovering the Magic of Summer . . .

Summer mornings, especially on a holiday weekend, have a special magic. The air is cool, the world quiet, and the day full of possibilities. This July 4th weekend, Lori and I decided to capture a bit of that magic by beating the holiday traffic with an early morning bicycle ride. We went through our usual pre-flight checklist: Stretched out the morning stiffness. Filled the water bottles. Strapped on the helmets. Checked the tires. Three tires passed inspection. The fourth had apparently declared independence. The rear tire on my e-bike was flatter than a Kansas highway. “Well, it looks like we’re not riding today,” Lori said, with the calm acceptance of someone who had already mentally promoted coffee to the day’s main event. “Why not?” I replied. “I’ll ride my old bike.” She gave me that look —the one that safely translates as, "Are you sure about this? " “Absolutely,” I said. “Why not?” I dragged the bike stand out and surveyed my options. One glance at the aggressive gear...

On The Fly

Search This Blog