Back and Forth: Lessons in Positioning

Last week I rode my RivendellSam Hillborne for the first time in three weeks after riding exclusively the loaner Seven on a close to daily basis. It's hard to believe that the body can adapt to one position so quickly as to find other positions unnatural. I confidently got on my bike, expecting that old familiar feeling of riding it to welcome me back. But I was in for a surprise. The ride was as comfortable as I remembered, but everything felt off. It took me a while to understand what was wrong. Initially it was just a vague sense of not feeling as connected to the road and as much in control of the bike, which was disconcerting. As I kept cycling, I became aware that it was really two specific things: I felt that I was seated too far back, and that I wasn't out far enough over the front wheel. I kept wanting to shove my weight forward, and it was frustrating to feel almost as if I were sitting "behind" the bike.

Looking at the way the two bicycles are set up, the difference makes sense. On the Seven, the saddle sits further forward and the handlebars are further out. I was aware of this difference before, but assumed that I would find the Seven's set-up aggressive and uncomfortable, while the Rivendell's set-up a welcome relief. Instead the Seven's set-up now feels "right" and anything deviating from it feels "wrong" - as if I don't have sufficient control of the bike. That feeling is hard to shake. I think my Rivendellneeds a little make-over.

While moving the saddle forward is easy enough, changing the handlebar set-up will be messy, because I will have to replace the fairly short (6cm) stem with a longer one. When I fist began trying to ride with drop bars, I found it extremely difficult and a short stem was recommended to make the transition easier. I cannot say that it was a poor recommendation, because it worked. I rode with this set-up for a year, gradually becoming more comfortable with the whole idea of a roadbike, and feeling increasingly natural in a forward-leaning position. Some would look at my bikes and point out that my stems are too short, and I was perfectly aware that by most standards they are. But these things are highly personal, and last year I was concerned not so much with speed and agility, as with just being able to ride the bike. The way a bike balanced with a shorter stem felt better to me at the time. For what it's worth, I see many roadbikes from the 1970s-80s that were ridden by women set up with short stems. My previously owned vintage Trek had an even shorter stem than this bike, and that was the original owner's doing.

Going back and forth between the Sevenand the Rivendellhas been educational; each has what the other lacks. It is fairly clear to me that I "need" a lightweight, purely-roadish roadbike like the Sevenand that I also "need" a wide-tired, befendered, dynamo-hub, luggage-bearing long distance bike like the Rivendell. I would not want to turn one into the other, or to combine them into something in-between. If I could make changes to the Seven, it would be to magically decrease its size. If I could makechanges to the Rivendell, it would be to alter its positioning and to make it lighter. The former we will be doing shortly. The latter is not really possible without getting rid of the very things that make this bike practical. But I am very curious now whether it is the positioning, more than anything else that accounts for the difference in speed between the two bicycles. I am also wondering what the "ideal" stem length for this bike would be. The top tube is unusually long, so it would have to be 8-9cm tops. It's frustrating that experimenting with stems is not easy, but I will report the results of my trial-and-error fumblings.

Mt Erie ..

Steve and I decided on doing some rock climbing at Mt. Erie on Monday. Skies were to be clear, and temps around 40° up in Anacortes. This was our choice after being somewhat tired from our Saturday climb, and not thinking the skiing was going to be all that great.

We had a leisurely start to the day, and left Edmonds around 8:30am. Our intention was to climb in the Snag Buttress area of the mountain, and check out some new (to us) routes in that area. Steve's main interest was in the route Touching the Sky, a 5.9 sport route accessed from Snag Buttress. That meant climbing the first pitch of Zig Zag (5.7) to get there. Once on the ledge, we determined that the down climb, and water seep on the route meant we did not want to do it. Instead we opted to climb up the ledge slightly above the top of Snag Buttress where there were multiple routes to chose from. We opted for the Ray Auld Memorial Route (5.7) which brought us up to the top of wall.

We hiked around a bit trying to make sense of the maps and crags. We stumbled upon a short blocky sport route which I am thinking might be A View to a Climb (5.6) on the Lumpy Crag. Hard to tell. We climbed it, and just west of the top we were above the Friction Slab area. After that, we played the typical Mt. Erie find the best way down game. We looked through the book and followed some weak trails down. (Made more fun by walking on slippery grass with rock shoes.) A free-hanging rappel off a Madrone tree and some bramble bushwhacking got us back to the packs.

It was a fun day. However, I seemed not mentally up to the climbing and had difficulty at times with moves/grades that are well within my ability. Also of note, was the generally crummy rock quality and lack of good protection in some areas. Plenty of relic pitons and old bolts around too.

Coming up Zig Zag (photo by Steve Machuga)

Steve leading up Ray Auld

Show off

What Makes a Bicycle Shop Good?

A couple of weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to discover Open Bicycle in Somerville, Mass. Recognising a good bicycle shop is similar to meeting a person you really like for the first time: It's hard to describe the feeling, but when it's there you know it. That is how I felt when I walked into Open Bicycle.



Open can best be described as a bicycle shop, art gallery and community project in one -- executed in the most unpretentious and inviting way possible. In addition to the regular bike shop stuff, there is a lounge area with a sofa and coffee table, and an adjacent exhibition space that is home to the Chorus Gallery. The cavernous shop is softly lit and exudes a club-house coziness. The merchandise is lovingly arranged and placed on display like specimens of a precious personal collection.



A gorgeous display case of saddles, hubs and cranksets.



Nitto handlebars.



Hand-sewn leather U-Lock cozies!



A treasure chest of grips.



Leather helmets!



A lovely tool-wrap and wool socks. Other products include crocheted gloves, leather toe clips, cycling shoes, messenger bags, and clothing. The items for sale sport typewritten tags, and some are wrapped in twine like little gifts. Even if you are not looking to buy anything, just viewing these things is an aesthetic treat.



Oh yes: and they sell bicycles too. Open focuses on urban and commuter needs, offering mainly quality vintage bicycles and new bicycles made by local frame-builders, including Icarus, Royal H Cycles, and Independent Fabrication. There is a strong fixed gear vibe, but roadbikes and touring bikes are available as well.



If you are looking for a custom project involving building up a vintage frame, or having a unique bicycle made by one of the local frame-builders, Open will guide you through it (pictured above is a prototype frame by Icarus). They also repair bicycles with a good turn-around time and give honest advice. Their product prices and labor fees are very reasonable, and their customer service is top notch. The staff is enthusiastic about bicycles and caring about customers.



As an artist and a velo-lover, I truly appreciate what Open are doing for the local cycling community. If you live in the Boston area, you really must visit this wonderful shop. They are having a gallery opening this Saturday, so that's a great opportunity to stop by!

Get in the Bunker, It's Snowing Out! Our Relationship with 'The Elements'

The blizzard that has swept over the East Coast in the past couple of days has left everyone stunned. After Boston received over a foot of snow within a 24-hour period and another half a foot the next day, life came to a halt. The street plows were quickly overwhelmed, a snow emergency was declared, public transportation ceased, and drivers were asked to stay off the roads. What had been a perfectly functional city only a day earlier quickly turned into a desolate snow-covered landscape. Our Cambridge/Somerville neighbourhood in particular resembled a Siberian village by Sunday evening, with only the rooftops and the tips of pine trees peaking out under a thick blanket of white, as the darkened sky continued to dump more powder onto the abandoned streets.

Our family phoned to ask how we were coping. Did we have enough food and was our heating working? I had to giggle at the imagery of being trapped in our home, eating canned food next to a space heater. After all, I had just returned from a mile-long trek to the grocery store, somehow managing not to perish in the process. I sympathise deeply with those whose travel plans were derailed because of the storm, and even more so with those who are stuck in airports. But I am surprised by the mass panic and the "hide in the bunker" sentiment of those who are merely staying at home in the city. We are not being bombed. The snow is not radioactive or poisonous (well, at least not significantly so). We can conquer it by... walking! and by wearing really warm clothing!

It seems to me that at least part of the problem, is that "dressing for the weather" has become a novel concept for so many people after years of driving. Despite living in a cold climate, a number of my friends simply do notownwarm clothing. A thick wool coat and proper winter boots are not necessary for getting in and out of the car and walking across a parking lot, so why spend money on them? It makes sense, given an automobile-reliant lifestyle. But as soon as the car is unavailable or non-functional, you are trapped - and that is a horrible feeling for those who like to be independent.

I do not subscribe to the "you're not made of sugar and won't melt " line of thought: We can get sick if we go out in bad weather dressed inappropriately. But dressing appropriately is not difficult, and can vastly improve our relationship with nature. Remember the fun of "snow days"? A walk to the grocery store during a blizzard can be just as nice. There are parts of the world where this weather is normal and not a "snow emergency" at all. I have lived in such areas and found my winters to be more enjoyably spent there. But in Southern New England, the winter months are treated as something one just needs to tolerate until they are over - which, to me at least, is rather sad. While I miss cycling on the days the roads are impassable, I don't want to contribute to that mentality. I love snow, and I love the magic of winter. And I did see a mountain biker on my way to the grocery store! The streets were abandoned except for me, him, and the occasional snowplow. We waved to each other across the vast expanse of white and silver, each encouraged by the other's presence.

Allensworth State Historical Park

After leaving Death Valley on March 27th I had decided to continue west to the coast of California, still seeking warmer weather. Along the way, I saw a sign for the Colonel Allensworth State Historical Park, which is located off of Interstate 5 northwest of Bakersfield, California. I went there not knowing what it was, only hoping that it had a campground.

The entrance welcomed me and I knew that I was in a very special place. Thankfully, it also had a campground!

According to a brochure that I picked up, the town of Allensworth was established in August 1908 by Colonel Allen Allensworth and four other settlers. It was the first settlement in California founded, financed and governed by African Americans. Their dream was to develop a thriving community based on the belief in programs that allowed blacks to help themselves create better lives. By 1910 Allensworth’s success was the focus of many national newspaper articles praising the town and its inhabitants.

Born into slavery and educated illegally, Allensworth ran off and joined the Army during the Civil War. He became one of the Army's first Black chaplains and at his retirement in 1906, he was the highest ranking African American commissioned officer in the United States military.

The townsite was purchased in 1974 by the California State Parks. Some of the homes and buildings have been restored while others are reconstructions.

The Stockett House and outbuildings.

The First Baptist Church.

Each building has a sign which provides a brief history.

The prefabricated house of Colonel Allensworth, delivered by railroad and assembled in 1911.

Additional photographs can be found on this page of the Allensworth Historical Park website. A biography of Colonel Allensworth can be found on Wikipedia.

Crushing It

Last week was warm on the mountain - and the forecast is for record temps early next week. Climbing on the mountain has been heating up too. A former climbing ranger, Chad Kellogg, was seen mashing up and down the mountain - three times in a row. His earlier tour this summer (climbing from White River up and over the summit, down to Paradise, and back in less than 24 hours) was just the beginning of the triple header throw down. Round three has yet to be rung in.

A helicopter was up on the mountain Wednesday afternoon for what was thought to be a climber with a broken leg. The injury occurred at 12,800' on the Emmons Glacier and the patient was flown from a flat spot just below. All rescuers and the patient made it down safe and sound.

Check out the recent updates on both the DC and Muir Snowfield. While skiing conditions have gotten worse, climbing conditions have improved.

High Wheel in Somerville

This cool Penny Farthing is often left locked up outside a local bike shop, and a couple of days ago we had a chance to investigate it. I was surprised at how large this thing is - nearly the same height as the Co-Habitant.

We debated whether it was antique or a replica, and it turned out to be a replica, made by Rideable Bicycle Replicas in California. It's funny that the bike is locked to an outside rack with a u-lock; that makes it seem as if at any moment somebody will come out, unlock it and pedal it away down the streets of Somerville.

But as you can see, no one is riding this thing anywhere - the tires are broken into pieces, and other components look aged and weathered, most likely from keeping the bicycle outdoors during the cold seasons.

Penny Farthings are fascinating, because they are so distinct and old-fashioned looking. They are direct drive, and I imagine that riding one is quite challenging. I am not even sure how to get on and off it - let alone how the ladies used to ride these wearing skirts. But they would definitely provide great visibility in traffic!

Trip to the Jemez

We took a trip to the Jemez Mountains last week. There are two ways to get into the forest area where we prefer to go but this time we went in by way of the Gillman Tunnels. Gillman is a little town that is near the tunnel area. During the early 1900's a railroad was built up through the forest to bring out the logs. Two tunnels were blasted through an area that was solid rock with a small rocky canyon below them with a creek going through it. Eventually the railroad line was taken out and a narrow dirt road still allows cars to make the same trip. The tunnels are still there. This is a photo going into the first tunnel.

Black Diamond video of Fight the Feeling

The video of my 8c+/9a from last autumn ‘Fight the Feeling at Steall is now up on the Black Diamond digital catalogue here. It’s on page 9. While you are there you should check out some of the other videos and articles from fellow BD climbers. There are pretty damn good. My favourite has to be The Wheel of Life footage of James Kassay. Would LOVE to go there sometime soon.

Hyak ..

What a difference a week makes. Although not in temperatures. (Telemetry shows the temp at Hyak today never exceeded 8°F during the time we were there.)

Julie and I headed to Hyak for a skin/ski trip. Snoqualmie has not yet opened Hyak or Alpental, due to "lack of snow." While it was adequate for skiing, it was probably not suitable for commercial skiing. A few more feet should hide the remaining conifer tops and all the alder. We decided on this location due to the 'short' drive, and moderate to high avalanche danger. Also, there was a "deadly" storm scheduled to hit later in the day, and we wanted to be home before that.

There were quite a few people out with the same idea. But, not as many as I saw last week at the Silver Basin. There was about a dozen or so "backcountry" skiers there. Probably a half dozen Nordic skiers and a few snowshoers. (Or is that slowshoers?)

The idea was to skin under the Keechelus Chair and then figure out what made sense for the descent. Under the chair was somewhat skied out, but it was the obvious line. There was a nice skin track on the way up, and we had no issues arriving at the top. At least that is what I thought. Julie lagged behind a bit, but I believed it to be because this was her first skin since the spring. When she arrived at the top, she explained that her back was bothering her and she was unsure about how the descent would affect it.

After some mulling about, we decided to descend under the chair. (The way we came up.) Julie was interested in attempting some powder as she did not have great success last season with deep powder. I too was interested, as my ski day last Sunday was less than ideal. We took our time on the way down with a couple of stops for Julie to reattach her ski. Near the bottom, we took the cat track as it didn't have as many alder branches sticking through it. (It didn't have any actually.) It was an alright run.

It was now 10:45am. Due to her back, Julie did not feel up to another run. I negotiated with her that I would head up and be back to the car by noon. To my surprise, I was able to skin all the way to the top and have a nice run back down in time to leave the parking lot at 11:55am. The second run was really nice for me. I was able to link turns and build some speed. I crashed once and arrived back at the car with snow pouring out of my clothes. I skied well.

(Photo by Julie Labrecque)
My photos are here.

Mixte Lovers, Rejoice: VO Prepares a Little Something

Some of you know that I have been considering a custom bike for next spring. It has been a somewhat tortured search, because of my pickiness when it comes to things like lugs and stylistic detail. Basically, I want the mixte to have the classic twin lateral stays (as opposed to a single top tube), and I want it to be fully lugged (which is nearly impossible to achieve nowadays, as mixte lugs are no longer made). To get the kind of bicycle I want, I basically had three choices : (1) to go with a builder who can hand-make the lugs, (2) to go with a builder who can alter lugs meant for diamond frames into mixte lugs, or (3) to find a builder who has a stash of NOS (new old stock) mixte lugs that they would be willing to use. All three choices are rather costly, and I am not sure whether I am in a position to commit those kinds of funds to the purchase of a bicycle. A more economical option like Rivendell was not possible, because although beautifully lugged, their mixtes are the type with the single top tube.

[image from Velo-Orange]

Enter Velo Orange, which announced in their recent blog entry the release of a fully lugged mixte with twin lateral stays. Thank you, Mr. Kulczycki! The photo above is a prototype frame.

[image from Velo-Orange]

Here is a close-up of the lugs. The projected price is $700 for the frame and fork (!), and the anticipated delivery date is January . Three sizes will be available: 50cm, 54cm, and 57cm, making it accessible for both short and tall riders.

What I love about this frame:
. the lugs,
. the classic construction with the twin stays,
. the choice in sizing (54cm should be just perfect for me),
. the 700c wheels (larger than the wheels on the Betty Foy, which I found too small)
. and the excellent price.

What I don't love so much:
. the colour (if I order it, I would definitely get custom colour or have it repainted),
. the way the rear stays connect to the seat tube (I think this could be more elegantly done),
. and the fact that, like the Rivendell Betty Foy, it is made in the far East.

So what do you think? Regardless of whether I decide to go for this bike, I am very excited that this product has appeared on the market. Now, if only I can persuade VO to alter the rear stay connexions and change the production colour...