The quiet stillness drapes the sheer rock walls that jut skyward in powerful majesty, defying the laws of nature with their serene heights while the gentle snows of winter silently fall and wrap the living things frozen in delicate white crystals; yet even the crags seem to shiver from the winter nymph's chilling caress and the blanket of snow sleds in horrific torrents off the stoic faces of these sculpted battlements. The sky turns colder still as the clouds part before the breath of Diana who half aglow comes into view from the eastern horizon and the stars twinkle with such beauty to be taken for diamonds and pearls caught in a sea of black velvet ready for the mortal hand to pluck if only one could reach just a wee bit higher. The next day wrought even more snows as if the gods were amused at the havoc they bring to the mortals scurrying and skidding about in their pursuit of life's little pleasures that revolve around a warm meal and a toasty fire's glow while the winds howl unabated outside the shuttered windows and barred doors, for the chill comes through any crack with the whine of a wrath and the teeth of a hungry wolf that tears at the skin and seeds chills deep within the soul. For the( better part of a day did we tarry so, in the warmth of Garmisch and feasting on the sights and sounds of Bavaria until the clouds parted once again and the chilled and clammy radiance of the sun began to melt the smashed flakes trodden into long gray rows upon the hard black roads and we took heart, sending our bright red flame into the sea of autos that were heading every which way but no where fast. 

The day grew cheery, the twisted roads over a pass or two were but wet and the tires held true, never once swaying from their course. Then there was Oberammergau and the ice and small streets that wind about as the wind swirls past the lofty spires of gray-black limestone high above the essence of Bavaria. And on the "Flame" fled, out across the plain that lays nearly flat before the mighty mountains as does the sea before the shore or the hound before its master, and from this visage one first sees the marble white walls, bold turrets, and grandeur of the fairy book castle of Neuschwanstein. The mind swoons and the car swerves, the eyes drink in the castle and view in awe of a madman's dream or a genius fantasy gone wild.

All that is left is to climb the several hundreds of meters up the steep winding road, dodging piles of horse droppings and snow blobs and the castle walls are yours. The inside is magnificent with carvings, stones, paintings, and art. And the craftsmen poured over the dream with a passion caught from the owner of this fair place. Now if they would only turn the heat on! 

And the poor Germans are failing to the guile of the wily Americans and the lure of fast food and goofy sayings on clothing. There are McDonalds all over this fair country, a McChicken is understood in all languages. I don't know how many American football teams come here but the shirts and coats with the official logo are everywhere as well as shirts with the numerous TV characters and English slogans like "NO FEAR" adorn many a T-shirt. And we Americans slink about trying not to look American. Now the real allure to McD is the free bathroom. A tradition even the pay as you go Germans can't break. We have managed to mark many of these fair arches on the map, opposed to throwing the kids out into the weeds at the side of the road (at which they are well accomplished even at their age) or digging into a purse for one more 50p coin.

We made it through the town of Nordling en, where the meteorite smashed into the fair earth some 14.8 million years ago. It was a bit too chilly to attack the town walls and the clouds hung at the top of the 300 foot tower which kept us from seeing the surrounding old lake bed. The church, tower, and many buildings are built of suevite, the rock made from pulverized sandstone and limestone that resolidified. So we stayed in the museum and then let the "Flame" (our red van) guide us about the town several times trying to see as many one way streets as possible going the wrong direction. It is amazing what American plates on a car will let you do. We were the only Americans we saw there and so we were cut a bit of slack. 

Thanksgiving was wonderful -- celebrated in Bavaria. Syndia cooked a big turkey before T-day and we had the boss and a lonely captain over for dinner. It was a great feast. We got to chew on turkey for several days and then it was off to Garmisch on a 4 day pass. We are in the charge around mode, even in the chill and gray skies. 

My boss wanted a good run on Monday so we ended up going about 5.5 miles. Not too bad unless you throw in the busiest street in Heidelberg as one mile of the adventure. We always seem to end up on the Hauptstrasse (Main street) where a bazillion people are looking into shops, buying food, going to class, (the oldest university in Germany is right there too) as well as magnificent churches and did I mention the castle and all the tourists? It is a feat beyond my wildest expectations to put the brain to all this triangulation and best fits and trying not to run over anyone or into anything while admiring 400 year old buildings and treading where poets once pondered the verse and great minds bantered ideas about or where cannons once belched fire and destruction on the lovely castle perched on the hill, and there's a loose dog and a guy with a dangling cigarette! Three of us did the frigid run again, much to the mirth of the Germans.

It is now Saturday night. I ordered insulators and the insulators arrived on Friday safe and sound from the U.S. The CD 126 and 126.3 with the great embossing are perfect. The CD 126 will go to Marion, our dear friend who has taken it upon himself to help my habit/hobby into new wonders while we are here. He and his wife Lucina live near Stuttgart. Last year we kept their daughter, Maggie, for her junior year of high school as an exchange student. It was really neat to get the assignment here in Heidelberg and to be so close to them. So far we have conquered several castles, a gasthaus and outdoor cafe, caves, and similar adventures while keeping an eye out for insulators. They got us several pieces from Poland, right off his mothers farm house. He had three varieties of CD 472 one of which is not in Marilyn's book. I sent her the same picture of the three similar pieces. (Mind you, they speak no English and my German is OK and getting better). Marion also went to the local electrical station house and there were barrels of insulators. He grabbed as many as he could easily carry. Among these gems are CD 470s and CD 600s. There are the CD 470 (EIV) with a smooth wire groove and others have a small ridge around the skirt. This too is different than any shown in Marilyn's book. There is a picture of this piece. This ridge looks like that found on a CD 600. Thee molds are all three piece. It looks like they took the top from a CD 470 and used the base of a CD 600. This would remove the top saddle. Both insulator types are N 95, rated for the same type service. One small problem, one is French and the other German.

The other pictures are from our travels about. I have not been able to find the people at home or the correct people to ask to try to get some of these pieces from their perches. It will be a challenge to get one of the Johnny Balls but that is a goal.

"Johnny Balls in service"

I have had some success getting insulators from the American Kassems and I have half the engineer community across Germany looking for me. I did find some old white ceramic pieces in a junk pile near Mannheim. All these insulators are a challenge to get off the smooth steel pegs with either some fibrous material holding the post and the insulator together or a plastic insert that fits into the threads and is jammed onto the peg. I tried twisting (a pipe wrench and not scratching the oak table we got in a small town near Fort Sheridan is a real challenge), freezing (hoping the coefficient of contraction would be enough to let me win out, all I got was really cold hands), PAM (which worked on two fiberfill and otherwise made a gooey mess as it dripped off the peg), pounding with a hammer on the lower nut and hoping to pull the smooth peg out of its strangle hold within the threads, (most effective but oh so very noisy and what a work out), and finally just slow digging, one fiber or chunk of plastic at a time (effective method but slow and I won't say how long it takes to resharpen one of Syndia's better knives). 

Several cities in our travels have these gems.

Hirshhorn home built in 1600-1700's with small ceramic insulators.

Ceramic insulator on home in Hirshhorn, 
town east of Heidelberg on the Neckar River.

Overhead on a street near the rail station in Altingen, 
25 miles south of Stuttgart. CD 470's -- either EIV 95 of ESA 95.

CD 449's in Altingen and (below) other CD 449's and 
their ceramic counterparts with and without "marker" stripes.

Old house in Auerbach with ceramic pintypes and
 "two-finger" and "three-finger" lead-in wall through insulators.

The pounding method required holding the jewel in one hand and aiming the rock hammer with the other to strike a 1 cm² area on a mangled 2 inch nut. The left hand had to absorb the blow and keep the piece from whacking the sink. This anvil chorus took place in the kitchen no less between the hours of 6 p.m. and 8 p.m. only. It took several weeks to get the mess all cleaned up. Meanwhile, I have insulators in various states of undress if you will all over the small kitchen, a piece or two still in the freezer and the smell of PAM emanating from the pegs. Syndia is so very patient. The kids got to help a lot and I bored Katie with the physics and force - I forget that kids only want to learn what the teacher is studying. We are into biology this year, force and momentum were last year. There will be an article forthcoming with some pictures of the kids. Take care. You are always welcome if you need to see some off the beaten path places. We went into France one day -- what a bust, the kids wanted to get back home to Germany. T-bars and Gingerbread jewels will be the only way to get me there. Syndia speaks French, so Monet's gardens here we come.