acpt 2

Puzzle 5. What can I say. BEQ authored the pain this year. Again, most of the room failed to finish. What's really disturbing is when the elite are getting up and leaving while you're still looking for the first clue you can answer. It wasn't the hardest I've seen overall, but here's the difference from last year: I got less of that one in the allotted time, but ten more minutes and I would have finished. This one I've seen online and I remember some of the clues for the ones I missed, and I still don't know what the answers are. I don't know what that means, but there it is.

I've had some ups and downs today. After my big confession earlier, I looked at my scans, and the judges overlooked my mistake. [Man, since I found out I'm not supposed to double-space after a period, I am really struggling to stop that.] I'd like to think I'd own up and see that they correct things regardless, but now that I've publicly announced my failure, I really can't take credit for a correct solution. Further, after reviewing my #5 scan, I found another couple of squares that didn't get marked. #4 and #6 I finished correctly. So I can't say for sure what my ranking is, but I'm right around 200 of 646. Give me the 150 I got that I shouldn't have, and throw in about 175 for a correct #5, and I would be ranked at 150 or so. The online results haven't caught up yet to the point that I know where I'd be in the C division. All so much navel gazing anyway, but I'm intrigued to see how far I am from greatness.

Speaking of, 1) Dan Feyer 2) Howard Barkin 3) tie: Tyler Hinman, Anne Erdmann 5) Kelly Langan 6) Kiran Kedlaya 7) tie: Stella Zawistowski, Francis Heaney 9) tie: Al Sanders, Ellen Ripstein 11) Eric Maddy 12) Katherine Bryant 13) Trip Payne 14) Dave Tuller 15) tie: Amy Reynaldo, Doug Hoylman 17) Joon Pahk. I stopped there because it was a ways down before I recognized another name from the Rex Parker blog. Joon is exactly 400 points behind Dan, who has 9690 (I have 7750 uncorrected).

I finally met up with Rex Parker (who isn't competing), and he introduced me to Sandy (also not in it), imsdave, mac, Bob Kerfuffle, PuzzleGirl, Karen from the Cape (and her mom), Eric Berlin . . . it's funny how fast those dominoes fall. I had a great dinner with some of those folks and met ACME at the restaurant. Somehow I lost them on the way to this evening's unofficial puzzling. I hope they've done better than I have tonight.

One puzzle to go (21X) in the morning. Whatever miracles I may have been hoping for have not materialized, so I look forward to solving it for fun, then watching the finals.

ACPT has begun

Well, here I am in NYC. Last night I checked the bar for imsdave, but never recognized him, so dinner was with some non-puzzling friends who came up from DC. Afterward, I went to the wine-and-cheese thing, but I suck at that stuff and really didn't enjoy myself. That's okay. It was good to catch up with old friends, too.

This morning I staked out a spot in the big room and settled in to wait for the big start. I kept watching for online friends, but somehow the only ones I ever found were busy working the event so I haven't spoken to any of them. I have practiced hard puzzles all week as I toured the city—on the trains, at lunch, when I sat down in the park, always solving. And I don't know if I accidentally got some archived puzzles I'd done before, or if I'm improving, but I was really finishing most of them, albeit a little too slowly, making

me think I have a chance at solving #5. Incidentally, if you get a chance to see the paper exhibit at the Museum of Arts and Design, it's well worth the trip.

So now we're on our first big break for lunch. Three puzzles down. I have already learned two things that either I didn't get last time or I forgot.

1. It's better to sit near people who are slower than you. Last year, I was finishing ahead of the people around me. Sure, some speedsters were leaving in other parts of the room, but I barely noticed them. This time, both of the guys to my right are getting up while I still have half a puzzle to go, and it makes me think I'm going too slow and I need to get on with it already. Rushing and losing concentration are not conducive to good results.

2. When there's a niggle in the back of my head that says something is not right, I should pay attention. Short version is, I already have at least one mistake after three puzzles.

Longer version follows. I will not provide any outright spoilers, but if you want a pure solving experience on these puzzles later, stop reading now.

The second puzzle was by Liz Gorski. It was one of those alter-a-common-phrase-to-make-a-new-funny-phrase themes. I got off to a slow start and wondered if I'd even finish. I finally pieced together the first theme answer and found it quite puzzling. No time to dwell, though, so I kept solving. By the end, I had figured out the theme and knew all the other stuff was right, but I still couldn't see how that first one worked. Glanced at the clock, saw a minute was about to turn over, and stuck up my hand to get the extra 25 points for finishing early. I wandered around in the lobby awhile, unable to let go of that first phrase. I kept trying to figure out what the source was and could not make sense of it. Finally, it hit me. I had read the abbreviation “co.” as country, not company. And so my hopes of a perfect set of solutions were dashed before lunch.

Of course, I said going in that I didn't expect to win, and it was true, and even if I hadn't made the mistake I wouldn't win, and that's okay. But it really hurts my pride and my ego to fail so early, and it really dashed my confidence going into the third puzzle (by Patrick Berry). I was slow and shaky. Then I had a couple of places near the top where I was stuck, which shook me even more.

I kept plowing along, though. It was a larger grid with sports-related puns. Again, an early theme phrase was stumping me. I didn't rush to stick something in there, though, and kept staring until finally the correct fill hit me (I hope—I'm pretty sure—well, we'll see). I was thinking how I'd cry foul at the blogs if this was a daily puzzle, since it involved a proper name crossed with something else I found obscure—already things are blurring in my mind. I'll get the set of puzzles tomorrow and I can really beat that dead horse to death, but for now I'm just glad I dug it out and regained a little mojo. Anyway, once I finally saw the pun, the other answers seemed pretty gettable after all (probably a good lesson to learn for the next time I'm tempted to pick nits).

Now it's time for lunch and regrouping. More later.

American Crossword Puzzle Tournament

Since I haven't been keeping up with the trees here, I thought I'd derail myself to hype the main event of my vacation, which begins next week. Starting Feb 20, I will be competing in the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament in Brooklyn, New York. This will be my second time in the contest, which was created and continues to be primarily the work of Will Shortz, editor of the New York Times crossword puzzle. If last year was any indication, he culls out the best of the best for this event, presenting seven puzzles by constructors well known to most of us who are geeky enough to participate in the event. I think the 7 contest puzzles are meant to approximate the range of difficulty that the NYT uses, starting with fairly easy puzzles on Monday, then getting progressively harder till Saturday, with a moderately challenging but oversized Sunday.

The puzzles last year didn't quite adhere to the same difficulty range. Of course, I am speaking from only one year of experience, so take this all with a grain of salt. But I would say the easiest puzzle was probably not quite as easy as the typical Monday NYT; the middle puzzles were probably all Tuesday-Thursday level. Instead of a pair of killers, as is typical on Fridays and Saturdays, the tournament has only the dreaded Puzzle 5 to sort out the top solvers from the rest of us schmoes--it was hard, but I would say not quite as bad as some of the NYT weekend offerings. As in the newspaper, some puzzles have a theme that may give extra hints to solvers, while #5 was themeless last year (I can't remember for sure, but I think the rest all had some kind of theme).

The hotel sets aside a huge room for the contest. Long, cafeteria-style tables are filled with contestants, who get one puzzle at a time. Everyone starts together, and a timer begins to tick off the minutes. Proctors around the room watch for hands; when you finish, you turn in your solution, the time is noted, and you may leave the room. The next puzzle begins about half an hour after the deadline for the previous one. In between, people talk about the puzzle; play other games; and shop in the lobby for puzzle books, games, and (at least last year) crossword-themed art. There's a lunch break, which means a lot of impromptu groups walking to one nearby restaurant or another. I suspect there are elite, highly competitive solvers who go to their hotel rooms to stay focused and eat special crossword-solving diets and such, but I didn't meet any of them. Saturday night (and Friday night) there are informal games and social activities, then there's puzzle #7 Sunday morning, and the live finals Sunday afternoon. The top three solvers from the A, B and C divisions all work a final puzzle on a stage with live commentary (wearing headphones to drown out any help from the audience or commentators). They all have the same grid and solution, but three different sets of clues makes each round significantly harder than the previous one(s). It was very exciting to see the A final especially--this video shows eventual champion Tyler Hinman as he agonizes over the last couple of squares, and finally figures it out to win with the only correct solution (again--accuracy trumps speed).

My skill level puts me solidly among the schmoes. I can do well on the early-week puzzles, and pretty quickly by most people's standards, though I'm not nearly as fast as the best. As of last year, I'm not sure I had ever successfully completed a Friday or Saturday puzzle. I can now say I definitely have (a few times), but I am far from the level where I expect to be able to do so on a given weekend. After four puzzles, I think I was near the top quarter of the field (someone who really cared about this could go to the site linked above, where all the results are listed and broken down in more ways than I care to list, to calculate my actual position, but I'm satisfied to guess). Puzzle five dropped me down to somewhere between the 35th and 40th percentiles. I had a good #6, and then missed one letter on Sunday to finish 244th out of 674 (MOAPO!!).

Those 674 people came from all over the country and beyond. The majority were from New York, of course, and most of the others were from nearby states, but plenty of us made the trip from across the US. I don't have my contestant list, which included brief bios, but the results show a handful of "foreign" competitors (which I'm sure includes at least some Canadians--I don't really know how exotic we got). Being in Texas, I was torn between entering the West division or the South; I competed in the West, which meant I was in the same region as the eventual winner (for his fifth title), Tyler Hinman. Not that in mattered--there was a similarly elite solver, Trip Payne, in the Southern division, as well (This year I saw a handy map -- don't know if it's new or if I missed it last time -- that puts TX in the South.). No, like most of the contestants, I knew in advance I was not going to win in any of the various subdivisions of the field (well, I was hoping to squeak out a top place among the rookies, but knew it wasn't likely).

The primary divisions are the skill levels: A through E, with most of us falling into the C division. To get into B or A, you have to have competed in the past and done exceptionally well (top 20% or better, or top 3 in the lower division). To get into D or E, you have to have done worse than at least 40% of the field in an earlier contest. As a rookie, I was automatically a C. If I'm reading the statistics correctly, there were 301 of us last year; of those, I finished 108. That's just about what I expect, since I solve the NYT puzzle everyday online and the applet there tracks times--I routinely finish fairly close to the line between the top two thirds (though in good weeks I can make the top 20-25% on Monday and Tuesday, and I often don't finish Fri or Sat at all--or cheat with google to do so).

A word about that--scoring is pretty complex when you first try to read the rules, but the gist is, you get points for each correct answer, a bonus for each completely accurate puzzle, and more bonuses for each minute you finish ahead of the allowed time limit. I think most people finished most of the puzzles in the time allowed, although puzzle 5 ended with most of the room still working. So speed is good, but only if you're accurate. Many people cursed their own failure to check a cross that would have revealed an obvious mistake and saved over 150 points. Again, all the details are at the ACPT site.

By finishing behind the top 20% but ahead of the bottom 60%, I kept myself firmly in the C division for this year. I would have needed another 1400 points or so to make the C finals last time--just about what I would have gotten if I had solved correctly on #5 and #7. So it isn't impossible to imagine. But I won't be holding my breath. So why am I spending all this money to do it again?

It's fun. Not only are these some of the best puzzles anywhere, but nowhere else can I finish a puzzle with a funny theme and talk about it with others who shared my enjoyment (except in the virtual world). If I mention a puzzle to most of my friends, they smile politely and generally try not to look bored. At ACPT, everyone is talking between puzzles about the good jokes or the clever clues. Some people bring puzzles they have made themselves and leave piles of them in the lobby for those of us who need more than six a day. Some dress in crossword-themed clothing. All are receptive to an invitation for lunch or a trip to the bar after the event is over. Most are like me, fully intending to finish well below the winners, and they simply do not care. The rankings are virtually irrelevant to all but a few of us. It's about the camaraderie and the shared passion for puzzling.

So if you made it through this whole write-up, the ACPT just might be for you. See you in Brooklyn!

Crape Myrtle show

After one of the hottest, driest summers Austin has ever seen, we finally got some rain last month. Not just a quick shower that disappears in minutes, but days of slow, steady soaking. For fans of crape myrtles ( Lagerstroemia indica), it was a sweet reward.

Crape myrtles are native to Asia, but they do well almost everywhere. They are tough, reliable trees that usually bloom all summer. In this year's heat, not so much. Irrigated trees in parking lots and commercial developments (and a few residences) bloomed, though perhaps not as boldly as in other years, but most of us saw few, if any, flowers. Finally, the rain changed that. For several days, it was hard to find a place in Austin that was not in view of a burst of blossoms on at least one crape. It was an amazing show.

A few of my friends

I've been on another long hiatus. My original idea for this blog was to record the often random thoughts that go through my head all day while I climb trees. Somehow, it morphed into a tree advice and education column. As much of my time is already spent in these pursuits, I kind of got burned out on blogging.

So here I am, back to share some photos from recent climbs without any yucky education to go with. First, I was working near the lake, where high humidity leads to unusual amounts of ball moss (Tillandsia recurvata). I was climbing a live oak, and what had appeared to be a large cluster of the bryophyte turned out to be a bird's nest. Pretty sneaky! Even in this photo, it's hard to see, but it was really quite well formed and deep. It looked very cozy, although nobody was home. I think the year is over as far as baby birdmaking is concerned.







Another job was more reptilian. First, I was moving across the tree when I looked up to see a big lizard, about a foot long. Usually, I see these as a flash of gray as they disappear into the underbrush or up into the highest canopy, but this guy sat there long enough for me to take a couple of closeups. I then had to take off a couple of twigs a few inches from his nose. It was the second of these that finally were too much for him, and he did, in fact, disappear up the tree.

Later that day, I noticed a small snake (thin, but maybe two feet long) slithering along a branch. He was not as quick as the lizard, but he was quick to move away from me. He slithered out a branch a ways, then, when I followed him with the camera, dripped down into the bushes below, which offered him better camoflage.

And that's a sampling of what you miss if you never climb a tree. I hope to get better about regular postings, even maybe some that might teach you a little bit.

Root Crowns

Most people never get to see what a tree looks like underground. Today we did some root crown excavations so I took a few pictures. This first one shows clearly what can go wrong and why we sometimes excavate.

The tree is about 10 inches in diameter and the width of the hole is about two feet. We blew out the top six inches or so of soil to get a look at the primary trunk flares. When soil gets added around the base of a tree, it loses some of the deepest roots that no longer get enough air and/or water. It responds by sending new roots upward toward the surface. Sometimes a small root crosses over a flare and chokes it off like a noose. The dark line across the center flare in this picture is such a girdling root. We cut it at either end to relieve the pressure, but left it in the groove that had formed around it so as not to damage the bark underneath.

Another problem with added soil is that it traps moisture against the stem of the tree. Roots are well equipped to keep out water they don't want, but stems and branches are not. Trapping moist soil against the bark can lead to decay, disease, or insect infestation. The second picture shows a tree that was about 4 inches too deep. In this case, it wasn't from raising the grade of the lawn, but rather it is a recent transplant that was buried too deep. It may have been the fault of the installer, but just as likely could have been that way in the container. Nurseries tend to add a little soil to the top of the root ball each time they repot, so often container-grown trees are several inches deep before they are ever purchased. The next shot is from the other side of the same tree. You can see a dark line where the soil was before we started at the bottom of the gray bark . The hole is a little deeper than it needs to be because we like to inspect thoroughly for problems when we have the opportunity. When all is finished, we will fill the deepest parts of the hole, leaving the arching trunk flares exposed.The last one shows a tree that has been excavated and had the soil aerated to about 10 feet from the trunk. There are bits of grass still poking through, but it has been pretty dried out and may not survive if we left it like this. The final step is to spread compost over the soil, then top it all off with a three-inch layer of wood chips as mulch. That combination will choke out almost all of the remaining grass. Any stragglers that poke through will be easily pulled out. By creating this buffer between tree and lawn, we avoid weedeater damage and make more water and nutrients available to the tree (grass is a very good competitor).

I'm often asked how far out a tree should be mulched. I always say, some is better than none, and more is better than less. In a forest, there would be little or no grass and everything would be mulch. The closer we can get to that ideal, the better off our trees will be. For more information about mulching, visit the ISA consumer site.

Leaf Rollers

In Austin, it's oak leaf roller season. Every year, live oaks are visited by these small, green caterpillars. Some years, it seems like a plague. This year, I have not seen many yet, but there may still be time.

Most people notice these things when they start dangling from the trees. They will hang by a single strand of web, similar to a spider's web. For those of us who find tiny, green worms really creepy, this can be a very difficult time. Walking to the car or mailbox means dodging worms and webs left and right. Often, after I've been working among them, I feel something tickle me hours later and absentmindedly squash one of the caterpillars onto my fingers. It's not very pleasant, but really it's no big deal for the trees in most cases.

Today I didn't see any caterpillars, but I did see the signs they were around. These photos show how the moth gets its name. On the right is a healthy branch next to one with all the leaves affected. Below is a closeup of some affected leaves. If you pry open those curled leaves, you will find inside either a larva or the remains of a cocoon that one made.

We usually get a few calls every year asking what to do about these critters. In the heavy years, we tend to get a lot of calls. But, except in severe cases, there really isn't much cause for action. The caterpillars eat some of the leaves, and some people get really creeped out, but things quickly run their course and the problem solves itself. The birds feast during heavy years, leading to light infestation the following year.

If a tree is so covered that it seems likely to suffer from the leaf damage, treatment would be the same as for any worm or caterpillar. I recommend spraying with Bt (Bacillus thuringiensis), which is deadly to larvae but pretty harmless otherwise. It still is wise to take care with Bt, since it does not discriminate between nasty larvae and caterpillars of desirable, pollinating moths and butterflies. Stronger pesticides are available, of course, but they would be overdoing things in this case. The Bt will do the job, and if it misses a few, they will be gone soon regardless.