Hats Off!

Because quite a few of you have ordered hats from me as part of barter deals via the Trading Post, I wanted to announce that: (1) I am now done with all the ones I promised thus far and they are going out in the mail on Monday, and (2) My waiting list has cleared and I am ready for more trades. Thank you for your interest in these, and I am happy to make them. I have problems with the nerves in my hands and knitting is a good form of physical therapy for that - so it's great to be "forced" to do it. While I am not looking to start selling hats, I am more than happy to trade them for bicycle components and whatever other stuff might appear on my Trading Post "want" list. Since I've received a lot of questions about the hats, I thought I'd provide some details here, and link to this post whenever someone has a question. Please feel free to skip if this is not of interest.





Materials and Patterns: I use a soft 100% Peruvian wool. I have a very good source for the wool now and can get pretty much any colour you want. I don't use patterns, but make up my own designs.





Styles: I can make three basic type of hats in many variations: a ski-hat ("beanie"), a rounded Scandinavian style hat, and a slouchy beret. I don't make hats with ear flaps or visors.





Texture: Most of my hats have some textural variation to them. This adds structure to the hat, as well as visual interest - especially when the hat is all one colour. If you prefer them to be smooth, that is fine as well.





Extra warmth? By default, the hats are warm and wind-proof. But if you want one that is extra warm, I can do that by using stitching that makes the hat thicker.



Summer hats? I can also make a summer weight beret using a delicate cashmere blend.





Colour combinations: Hats can be made single tone, or in various colour combinations. I like stripes and organic forms. If you have something specific in mind, let me know!





Which hat for under a helmet? If you want a hat specifically to wear under a helmet, I recommend opting for a ski hat with no textural variation. The colour combination of course does not matter.





Trade value?No idea. So far I've traded for things like handlebars and vintage camera equipment, and multiple hats for a (new) wheelset. The more complicated the pattern, the more time consuming a hat is to make, but I have no concrete value system in place. I am not looking to start a hat business or to market these. It's just a fun way to trade and thanks again for the interest!

Racking Your Brain!

For the past month, I have been working on a rear rack prototype for the Bella Ciao "Superba" (which will look nothing like the Roadster rack above), so racks have been on my mind lately. I've been checking out the racks on practically every bike I see, and also paying attention to how I typically use mine.



Although on occasion I will carry a substantial amount of weight on the rear rack of my bike, more often than not all I carry is a single pannier or bag. Sometimes there are groceries and packages involved, and even those often fit into a single large pannier. Once in a while, I will strap an item or two to the top of the rack, but it is not an everyday occurrence. When I look around at other cyclists, at least in the Boston area, I see mostly the same: One or two panniers attached to the side of the rack, or a bag strapped to the top. If I see more than that being transported (on a regular bike, not an Extracycle or a "utility bike"), it's an anomaly.



What about you? Be honest - how much do you really carry on your bicycle's rear rack on a typical day, assuming that it is a standard city bike?







Looking at other cyclists in the Boston area, I've also noticed a gender difference in how much stuff cyclists carry - with women typically having fewer things strapped to the rear rack than men. But there could be many factors accounting for this, and I am not sure how typical this trend is overall.



In addition to how much stuff I carry on the rear racks of my bicycles, I have also been trying to note in what ways I find them convenient versus not. For example, I often lament the lack of bungee cord attachment points on my Gazelle's rear rack. Also, not all racks are compatible with all pannier attachment system - the spacing of the slats on some racks can interfere with the spacing of the hooks. What major complaints, if any, do you have about the rear rack on your main transportation bicycle? You can select multiple items on this one:







Having discovered how to embed these polls and surveys, I admit it's fun to set them up and then look at all the results - but hopefully also useful. I will soon be receiving a sample of the "Superba" rack prototype, and from there it should be just a matter of time until we're done. These racks will fit a standard 700C wheel bike, and regardless of whether you are interested in a "Superba" bicycle, the racks may be available for sale on their own. They won't be sold by me, but I will keep you posted - and your input will certainly be valuable.

California :: Moving On

My stay with Kathryn Doyle was a very pleasant and much needed “break” and I am indebted to her and her husband for their hospitality. I was also able to finally view the television series “American Faces” and “Who Do You Think You Are?” and thought that they were both well done and quite interesting. Thank you very much, Kathryn!

Leaving Oakland, I took the much despised Interstates south, heading for a rendezvous with my friends Sue and Fred at the Grand Canyon. Sue also happens to be my 3rd cousin once removed. Her great-grandfather, Luther Marion Joslin (1852-1930) was a brother of my great-great-grandmother Malissa Mariah Joslin Brubaker Bower (1849-1937). They were the children of Lysander and Lydia Robison Joslin. Sue's uncle, Irwin Joslin, was the first to make contact with our branch of the family (in 1968).

I allowed several days for the drive from Oakland to the Grand Canyon – it was much further than I had thought, about 850 miles. I didn't make any sightseeing stops along the way except for a slight detour to the Antelope Valley Poppy Preserve, however I didn't take the time to walk any of the trails. It was almost impossible to get a good close-up shot of the poppies because of the wind, but they were absolutely gorgeous!






Photographs taken on April 8, ...

The Tree-Root Waterfall

The Tree-Root Cascade, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Here's a pretty unique waterfall.

This cascade is formed by the roots of a bigleaf maple growing through the creek bed. The water flows over the roots in a curtain and plunges into a somewhat deep pool.

This waterfall, like many others in the area, only flows during the rainy season. It's completely bone dry right now.

Quiros City Bike: a Boston Classic

Co-Habitant's friend Erik recently had a frame made by local builder Armando Quiros. I watched the bike being assembled and had the chance to photograph it upon completion. This bike is interesting to me, in that it epitomises the Boston aesthetic of making transportation bicycles with tight, aggressive geometry, yet upright positioning and accessorised for the city. In fact Armando calls this a "city track commuter." It is also interesting, because increasingly I enjoy looking at fillet-brazed frames and this one is a nice example.






One of the young new names that have become prominent over the past couple of years, Quiros Custom Frames are based in Natick, MA and offer a variety of lugged and fillet brazed options.







I met Armando a few years back, when Royal H.and Icarus still had their studios in Somerville, and all sorts of interesting bikey people would stop by that part of town. Later I snapped this photo of him receiving a trophy at the Larz Anderson show, where one of his bicycles won an award. Not bad!






Quiros frames can be recognised by the prominent gothic headbadge






and by the "787" painted above the bottom bracket - the area code for Puerto Rico.






Erik's frame is fillet brazed, using Columbus tubing.






What I like about this method is the seamless, almost liquid look to the construction. The brazed sloping fork crown goes nicely with this.






The British Racing Green paint, silver components, hammered fenders and caramel-brown accessories create a classic, distinguished aesthetic. At the same time, the narrow riser bars and track geometry give the bike a contemporary "fixie" look. It's an interesting and somewhat unexpected combination. Looking at the bike, my mind's eye keeps trying to either replace the cork grips with hot pink rubber ones, or else change the bars to North Roads. But I think the marriage of styles is ultimately what makes this bicycle unique to the owner.





The bicycle is built up witha Phil Wood hub wheelset, an IRD crankset, Tektro brakes, MKS Stream pedals, straight Thomson seatpost, Brooks saddle, and Honjo hammered fenders. Erik rides it as a fixed gear single speed.





The idea behind building a city bike with track geometry is that it is quick handling and responsive in traffic. While personally I cannot handle the tight clearances on a bike like this, I understand the concept and this is certainly a successful execution of it. The bicycle looks very much at home on the streets of Cambridge, and the owner enjoys the ride. Many thanks to Erik and Armando for the opportunity to document this bicycle. More pictures here.

Mini stroll at Harewood House.

This was on a dull afternoon, and probably around three miles wandering altogether. A couple of hours on my own after looking after my grand-daughter in the morning.





Down the small hill past the big house, to the Himalayan Garden and Woodland walk, and then through the Bird Garden.

A glimpse of the Stupa, built in 2004 by monks from Bhutan

The lake was created by Lancelot 'Capability' Brown in the 1770s

Not one of the exotic birds.

More photos here.

More Blossoms

Mesa Verde :: Balcony House

After having first visited the Cliff Palace, the tour of Balcony House was as much about the ladders, passageways and tunnel that had to be traversed in getting there and back as it was in seeing the 40 rooms of the complex. The tour to Balcony House is touted as being the most adventurous of those offered at Mesa Verde and is definitely not for the faint of heart!

Getting down to the level of the Balcony House involved a series of metal stairways firmly attached to the sides of the cliff.

Then you had to go back up. To that level, up there.

The 32-foot entrance ladder. I got to go up first with the Ranger. I'll admit to being a little nervous. I kept repeating what she had told us: “Don't look down! Keep your eyes focused on the rock in front of you.”

This picture was taken from the second story of the Balcony House, looking down at the ladder and those who have yet to come up.



Upon leaving the dwelling we had to crawl through a 10-foot long tunnel, just barely wide enough for a large person (me) to get through. The Ancestral Puebloans were smaller people than we are today!

Once through the tunnel, it was awkward to get out and stand up again. There wasn't a lot of room to maneuver.

Oh, and then there were two more ladders to climb up. See that chain fencing? It's there for a reason.

Looking down from the base of the second (and final) ladder.

The Ancestral Puebloans wouldn't have had fancy ladders and chain fences to help them get up the cliff walls. How did they do it? The Ranger said they carved hand and foot holds out of the rock. I guess you get used to using what you have available, but I'm very glad we had the ladders and chains to help us along the way!

Ring of Steall project sent!

Ring of Steall, 8c+, Steall Crag, Glen Nevis. Photos by Claire MacLeod. Click on the pics for a bigger view.

Yesterday I climbed the Ring of Steall project at Steall hut crag. When I got to the belay I had to slap myself and confirm with Claire that it had actually just happened and I wasn’t dreaming. In fact, a dream like state was exactly how I climbed it. The whole thing flowed with effortless ease and perfectly focused effort, on the very first time I made a proper redpoint attempt. Ascents that happen so perfectly with no mistakes, no hesitation and no consciousness of self are so rare. Nevermind on a route I’ve been trying for ten years! I’d say that was by far the most focused moment of my life so far. It was so unexpected, but maybe it had to be to occur in the first place?

This project has been an inspiration simmering in the back of my head for ten years. It was equipped and tried by Cubby in the early nineties and he worked hard on it, coming very close to getting past the crux section before injury and work got in the way and the momentum was lost. I’ve talked with Dave about the project many times since and it was always a huge goal for either of us. If Dave had done it in ’92, it would have been one of the top five sport routes in the world at the time – an incredible effort.

Dave was (still is) a massive inspiration to my climbing, and climbing his hardest routes was a huge goal of mine, in my progression in climbing. Although I managed to climb most of them, the Steall project always remained as a huge test I wanted to pass, but that crux just felt brick hard. Every year I had a day on it, and every year it seemed above my level.

The crux Egyptian of Ring of Steall

It’s about 8a+ to get to the big undercut in the centre of the wall, then you have to get an evil sloping crimp with your left hand, that is so smooth, it’s almost like its been buffed and polished – nothing but pure strength will do to hold it. Then, it’s the Egyptian. Over the past month I’ve walked down the path from Steall feeling that it’s the most beautiful move I’ve ever experienced on rock, and other nights been cursing it to hell. Last week I finally mastered the correct timing of how to drop the knee and then push in the exactly correct direction with each foot. It’s the ultimate move – when performed with technical excellence, it's easy. But if you don’t move the limbs in the correct sequence of subtle shifts, no amount of strength or psyche will make any impression.

This type of climbing suits Cubby’s technical mastery perfectly, so it’s a shame that he wasn’t able to finish it. It’s no surprise to me that the route left such a big impression on him as it has done on me – perfect movement in a beautiful place.

Having completed this route, if I had to give up climbing tomorrow due to some disaster, I’d be satisfied with my effort. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt that. Climbing it has confirmed in my mind something I felt for the first time after climbing Rhapsody; We can really do anything, and I mean anything we want. Circumstances are indeed barriers, but never impenetrable ones. We are limited only by knowing exactly what we want and having the pure motivation to find it. I always heard this idea from ‘motivational types’ in the past. As a sceptic I’ve spent over ten years trying to refute it by repeatedly trying seemingly impossible projects. Every time the result is the same – Tasks you are not truly motivated for may always remain beyond your reach, tasks you are deeply motivated for take you on a long and convoluted route around the barriers that circumstances create. Sometimes, in the thick of the maze of circumstances, you realise your motivation is not deep enough and its best to try something else. But when the motivation remains through deep frustration, the results are always… always… just around the corner.

How cool is that.

The Road is Calling

Despite those innocent-looking cherry blossoms, Marianne is gradually turning into a lean, mean, cycling machine - albeit in the loveliest way possible.

My upside-down Albatross bars are considerably lower than my saddle, which I hope will gradually prepare me for the drop bars on my (soon to be ready!) Sam Hillborne. I want to make sure that by the time I get the drop bars, I am able to use them properly (with my hands either in the drops or on the hoods of the brake levers, but not on the straight top portion of the bars).

But I guess the big question here is "why?". Why the desire for speed and aggressive riding positions, why this sudden appearance of shorts? Well, because I like it - Not instead of relaxed cycling on a nice heavy loop frame - but in parallel to it. It's like someone enjoying both strolling and jogging - but not at the same time and not wearing the same clothes. I have discovered that I like pedaling fast and traveling far, I like learning how to maneuver a road-bike, and I like using those muscles in the back of the upper thighs that only get engaged when riding in this position. I am a remarkably un-athletic person with some long-standing health problems, and yet I can handle cycling. So I suppose I want to see how far I might go if I put my mind to it. Can someone as "frail" as me really hope to do century rides? Multi-day touring? Race at the velodrome? I guess we shall see!

Meanwhile, meet my latest addition to Marianne's fearsome accoutrements: these vintage Atom 700 French road pedals. Harris Cyclery had some used ones in the shop, and now they are mine!

To describe these pedals in an uneducated manner: The metal surface is toothy and grippy, more so than that of touring pedals I've tried. In addition, there is a raised notch on the side, that keeps your foot in place - At least I am guessing that this is what it is for, since that is the effect it has on my foot.

See the raised notch? Once the shoe is firmly placed on the pedal, the toothy surface and the outer notch make it feel glued in place. It is the closest thing to a foot retention system I have been able to handle so far. The benefit of feeling your foot "attached" to the pedal became clear to me once I switched Marianne's previous pedals to these, and returned to the rolling hills of Concord. I know that there are conflicting opinions regarding whether retention systems are useful, so I speak solely for myself: These pedals made a difference to me when cycling long-distance, especially on hills.

The downside, is that these are a pain to use in the city where one has to make frequent stops and starts. Unlike other pedals, there is a "right" and a "wrong" side to them: The correct side has the grippy surface and the outer notches. The wrong side is slippery and pretty much impossible to keep your foot on. The problem is that the pedals naturally want to hang wrong-side up when left alone, and so, when starting from a stop, you first plant your foot correctly onto the starting pedal, then push off and begin searching with your other foot (without looking at your toe! - remember, you're in traffic) for the correct side of the other pedal. Sounds horrifying, but actually it's not so bad once I got used to it. I've got the toe-searching down to only a few seconds now. For long sporty rides, it is worth it. I will keep cycling with these as they are for a while, and add "half-clips" when I feel ready... I need to get myself used to foot retention systems gradually if I plan to try cycling at the velodrome in the future!