Tuffee & Yucca

Tuffee is on our side of the fence but I was on my neighbors side taking the photo.

Aquamarine

We have been staying on Cape Cod since Saturday and will be here till the end of the month. The water is freezing, but the scenery is gorgeous and the bicycle trails are nearby.



Marianne was happy to discover that her aquamarine outfit matched the colourscheme of the landscape.



Come to think of it, so did mine! Yesterday we spotted seals frolicking on this beach, though I failed to capture them on camera.

Yes, Mount Rainier is opening

Mount Rainier is going to open this weekend, so get ready everyone! There is a lot of internal moving and shaking in response to the May 5th opening. The park is preparing for crowds, media, and general hoopla. I'm envisioning a rock concert: ardent fans pushed against a barricade eager for the band...

Emailers: I have no advice on how to get into the park earlier than Saturday 10 a.m. Anyway, I hear there is going to be a ribbon cutting ceremony and you wouldn't want to miss that. I realize that it may mess with your alpine start, your day of good skiing, your available day light; but hey, it is Cinco de Mayo. Oh, and if you're climbing the mountain: register at the Jackson Visitor Center, and park overnight in the picnic area (just below the Paradise lower lot). Also,save time by filling out your climbing permit early. Print it out from this website, fill it out, and bring it with you.

It's a challenge trying to compose Mt. Rainier-specific prose given the recent terrible news about Lara Kellogg... Steve Hyde is sharing an incredible photo gallery of Lara over here. I recommend checking it out. This image of Lara Kellogg at Camp Schurman on Mt. Rainier was contributed by Mark Westman, 1996.

I Don't Want You, But I Need You... When Bike Love Turns Irrational

Once in a while, I see a bicycle that is completely unnecessary for my lifestyle, and perhaps even impossible to ride given my skill level... And yet, that bicycle fills me with desire. Here are three bad-boys that evoke these conflicted feelings. (For maximum enjoyment, I suggest playing "You Really Got a Hold on Me" as background music.)

[Rivendell Bombadil, fitted with cream Fat Frank tires. Image from Bearded Peter]
The Bombadil is a clear-coated, lugged steel mountain bike from Rivendell. It is completely rigid (no front or rear suspension), and comes with a double-top-tube frame. I see myself as a Warrior Princess seated high over the fearsome double top-tubes and hopping over roots and rocks with wild abandon - my hair fluttering in the wind like a fiery trail and my face streaked with dirt (attractively accentuating my cheekbones)... Of course, I really should learn to at least mount and dismount a bike properly before entertaining such fantasies...

[A.N.T. Basket Bike, lady's frame, in blue-gray. Image from antbike]

Here is my most recent forbidden love: the A.N.T. Basket Bike, lady's frame. I do not require a specialised basket bike. But every time I look at this photo, I want to cry. It is so beautiful, and I have never seen anything quite like it. (Yes, I know that the idea of a transport bike with a small front wheel is not new, but they did not usually come with such graceful frames.) I absolutely love the classic Porteur chaincase, and that slate gray is one of my favourite colours. The overall look is at once so vintage and so modern and so... poetically eccentric, that my very soul cries out for it. Yes, my soul. These are some heavy feelings I am sharing with you.

[Royal H. Cycles, track bike. Image from Royal H.]

And finally, the most bizarre crush I've had: This is a track bike by Royal H. Cycles. The enormous frame is painted cream, and the lugs are meticulously outlined in a rich orange. I can't explain why I have such a strong reaction to it. I can't ride fixed gear to save my life, and I don't like orange. But I look at it, and it just seems so... perfect. If I gaze at it for too long, I feel the need to learn how to ride fixed immediately. And also to stroke it and feed it caramels while whispering sweet nothings in its ear... Is that wrong?

Writings under a drawbridge in Amsterdam

Drawbridges are typically Dutch. Because the Netherlands is literally a swamp country, meaning there is water everywhere—canals, rivers, seas, lakes, everything that you can think of that is a body of water, we have that here in the Netherlands.



Ergo drawbridges. We cannot escape from them. They are everywhere in the country, and in the city as well. They come in different sizes, shapes, styles and material. They can cause traffic too.



This one I found in Amsterdam is quite unique. There are writings underneath the drawbridge. It’s in Dutch but the fonts are quite complex for me to understand.



At first glance, it looks like Hebrew to me, but it’s not. It’s Dutch. Can you read it?



Visit Period: July

Snoqualmie Mountain ..

Sammy and I planned a day of climbing something for Sunday and we didn't want it to be too intense. After throwing around a few ideas we settled on Snoqualmie Mountain. I have never been up it, and Sammy had when there was no snow, so it would be a new experience for both of us.

We arrived in the Alpental parking lot a little after 7am and were discussing our route options. Sammy was originally thinking to come up the Commonwealth Basin and then access Snoqualmie from Cave Ridge. We had both done that approach for winter ascents of Guye Peak. The guidebooks tell a tale of going up the trail to Cave Ridge from the Alpental Parking lot. I suggested we try something new and if it went, the distance was a whole lot shorter than circumnavigating Guye Peak.

From the parking lot we picked a high spot below a tree band that we would go up and assess the conditions to see if we could continue upward. We figured on twenty minutes to that point and potentially leaving us with enough time to come down and try the other route if this one did not go.

We entered the snow at the "Transceiver Training Area" and started to head up. Within five minutes it seemed like we were half way to the trees. Then the slope got steeper. Sammy and I stayed in some tree where we were following steps and we felt the snow was a little better. It was still before 8am and the sun was not hitting the slopes and the snow was hard and icy. We wondered why we brought snow shoes and contemplated stashing them. I said it would be a guarantee that we would be in waist deep snow later if we cached them now, so we kept them on our packs. This was Sammy's first time on steep snow this season and he was not feeling great about the snow climbing and lagged behind me a bit. I broke out of our stretch of trees and waited for him at a final tree in a more level area before we were to make the push to the trees above to see if the route went.

At this point, Sammy was having reservations about climbing the steep snow. But we agreed to go to the trees to see if the climbing became less difficult. Since we were on more level terrain, we donned crampons at this time. That decision gave both of us a little confidence boost to make the trees.

Nearing the trees, I went ahead of Sammy to check out the situation. I had to cross a moat with a small ice bridge with the help of an alder grab and then front point up steep solid snow into the woods. I stopped below a fallen log. While I thought the terrain looked easier above the log, I did not see any easy ways around it that did not involve minimal snow on rock or other loose terrain. I relayed the information to Sammy who made the decision to descend.

Sammy downclimbed facing in while I attempted to get out of the trees without having to downclimb over the small moat I came up over. It took me a while to reach Sammy after he returned to the more level area where we had put crampons on. At this point we had probably burned too much time to attempt via the Commonwealth Basin.

Fortunately due to our time wasting, the temps were a little warmer even if the sun was now obscured by clouds. Sammy got a new dose of confidence and started to traverse the slope to our left. Before we knew it, we were following another boot path up into the trees and feeling like we might still have a chance at the summit. At a minimum we were hoping to gain Cave Ridge and get a view.

Then we followed the the boot path to ice. There was about an eight foot stretch of maybe 40° ice. I started to chop steps into it. I made some moves with my left foot on rock and my right on ice. I had to swing my ax just to get the pick in and inch. A few moves up I questioned what I was doing, and Sammy and I set about to find another option up. Sammy set out on a traverse left while I tried a section directly above us. Neither was going to go without spicy moves on thin snow over moats and wet rock with significant shrub pulling only to get onto a similar steep hard snow slope. All the while considering how we would get back down once we got around the obstacle. After checking four options around the ice patch we finally decided to head back to the car. We down climbed through the woods back out to the open slope where the sun was shining and the snow already quite soft. We removed our crampons and plunge stepped our way back to the car.

Sammy nearing our high point

Before the plunge step down, I told Sammy it was our hubris that caused our failure. While perhaps an exaggeration, we both had underestimated this climb and had full expectation of reaching the summit. This expectation of easy climbing affected me (at least) in regards to my head space when the going got difficult. Climbing when not in an ideal head space is taxing, and not why I go out.

The plunge step out

I usually say that you learn more from a no summit climb than from a climb where the summit is achieved. On the way down and in the car we discussed things we took away from this. One was that we waited too long to put crampons on. I guess we succumbed to the boiling frog issue on that one. Because we underestimated the climb and snow conditions, we did not bring second tools or steel crampons, not to mention helmets or any type of rope.

Overall we had a fun time and joked about the situation throughout. It was great attempting a climb with Sammy and now I'll have a better idea for the next time I give Snoqualmie Mountain a go.

Sunset over Kanopolis Lake

Saturday, May 7th - - After such an exhilerating visit to the Center of the US and the Largest Ball of Twine, I headed south and ended up at Kanopolis State Park. It is located 33 miles southwest of Salina. It was a scorching 95 degrees by the time I arrived – and the air conditioning wasn't working in the van! I found a nice primitive campsite with shade and settled in for a late afternoon nap.



Toward evening, it started cooling down and I went for a walk down toward the lake. There I found just the “right spot” for viewing the setting sun. The skies had been hazy all day and the haze created the perfect atmosphere for an amazingly colorful sunset.

Want a Drink?

Traveler drinking from the water hose while getting his bath. He did a lot better than I expected for his first one. Me, I just look really hot and tired. And I was.

Little Switzerland North Carolina

Fall Produce

We've been in fresh produce heaven since we arrived in Holley. I can walk across the street to the above produce stand and that's just one of many in this area. I'm taking advantage of the bounty and trying to do some batch cooking to make some home cooked goodness that we can eat now and freeze some for later.



Normally I take time each morning to have some quiet time. I do many different things during this time. It doesn't matter so much what I do, just that I have some quiet time that is good for me and gets me to be a bit more centered before I face the day. The part that is consistent is that I take this time to stop and be mindful of things I am grateful for so I call it my Gratitude Walk, even if I'm not walking while doing it.



With all the prepping I've been doing for the cooking, I've used this as my quiet time. Interestingly enough, it has also been easy for me to do some pondering of things I'm grateful for too while handling all the fresh fruits and veggies. While cooking is not one of my favorite things to do, I do find that I like it so much more when I am using whole foods. It is something that I am in awe of each time I do handle them. I can't help but be aware of the fact that the earth gives us these precious gifts and that whole process is just spectacular in its own way. I think of all of the parts that go into the process in order for food to grow from seed to maturity. Food that nourishes us with its life giving properties and tastes so wonderful to boot. Yesterday I was chopping tomatoes and realized it just feels as if each time I do come in contact with this kind of food in this way, I am literally pulling up a chair to God's table to eat.



So what goodies have I managed to cook up this week? Two batches of bolognese sauce, (Mira gave me her recipe for the Bolognese Sauce which is similar to Pastor Ryan's), two batches of marinara sauce, two batches of chunky vegetable spaghetti sauce, pizza sauce, a huge batch of chili, fried apples like Cracker Barrel makes, apple dumplings, apple crisp, apple butter, applesauce and coleslaw. Nathan has made his oh so good salsa and still wants to make another huge batch. I still have butternut squash and pumpkins to use. I'm guessing we'll get some extras to take with us before we leave. I'm going to miss it when we do leave, but we'll soon be back in Florida where we can get year round fresh produce again.



Now if I could just find a way to get someone else to clean up the mess after I cook, I might not mind this cooking stuff at all!



Living the life in New York!

All Happy Bicycles Are Alike?...

According to the Anna Karenina principle, it might be said that all happy bicycles are alike and every unhappy bicycle is unhappy in its own way.

Jacqueline - a vintage Steyr Waffenrad that has become my "Austrian bike" - is happy. She has a relationship with a human who loves her. She has an idyllic work commute along the Danube Canal.

She has beautiful heirloom jewelry in silver and gold.

She feels useful and fulfilled, responsible for the safety and well-being of the people in her life.

Back in Boston, Eustacia (my Pashley Princess) has recently reached a similar state of happiness - interestingly, after the addition of some of the same components, such as the rear folding baskets and the speedy cream tires. It seems that bicycle happiness is indeed, at least to some extent, formulaic. When all the factors come together just right, it works. When something is off, it doesn't.

This brings the question of whether happy bicycles inspire being written about. When everything feels just right, there is nothing to say really. The sun is shining, my bicycle is running smoothly, my folding basket fits my briefcase snugly, my shoes don't slip on the pedals, the route to work is safe and beautiful, and it took me less time to arrive at my office than had I taken the subway. That pretty much describes my commute this morning, and it sounds rather uninteresting.

As I said to Anna from Cycling is Good for You the other evening - If I lived in Vienna and had Jacqueline to begin with, I doubt that I would have ever started a cycling blog despite loving bicycles. Maybe an image gallery, but not a blog. There would have been nothing to discuss.

After all, most posts are written about challenges, questions, restorations, the search for new components or better routes, and so on. But is bicycle happiness newsworthy?

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.

Souvenirs

While writing my post for the 45th edition of the Carnival of Genealogy, I looked for a picture of this car but couldn't find it then. In the background is our 1956 Nash Rambler Super Sedan, like the one pictured at Old Car and Truck Pictures, about halfway down the page.

My parents had just returned from a fishing trip to northern Minnesota with Dad's sister, Fern, and her husband and daughter. Doug, Jack, Terry and I are showing off the souvenirs they brought us. It was August 1957.

In July that year, Doug, Jack and I had gone on a trip to the Wisconsin Dells with Grandpa Vic and Aunt Shirley. It was the first time that we had been away from our parents and little sister. We were only gone for a few days but we still got homesick, or at least, that is what I've been told - many times!

When Mom and Dad were planning their trip to Minnesota they decided to split up us kids and parcel us out to several aunts and uncles. Doug went to Columbia City to stay with Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Walt. Jack and I were sent to Pierceton to stay with Aunt Jessie and Uncle Toby. Terry went to Goshen to stay with Aunt Leah and Uncle Shocky. I don't remember how long Mom and Dad were gone, probably a week. But at some point during that time someone decided that we kids needed to see each other. So Doug and Terry were brought to Pierceton since that was somewhat the "middle" distance between Goshen and Columbia City.

When the time came for Doug and Terry to go back to their respective temporary homes, apparently we all started crying and quite simply couldn't be separated. Each time one of them would get into the car the crying would resume. I'm sure there is some exaggeration on the part of the adults regarding the extent of the hugging and crying ;-) at least there are no pictures of that! Bottom line, we all ended up staying with Aunt Phyllis in Columbia City for the few remaining days until our parents returned. Hers was a full house with her own four children and the four of us, but comfy. And we were together. And it didn't matter that we had to sleep on the floor!

Taking the Lane with Elly Blue

Following the online presence of Portland-based bike activist Elly Blueover the past year, her perspective seemed so different from mine that it was as if she wrote from another planet. Critical Mass, relentless activism, political organising, and the accompanying stylistic elements - It's not my world and it's not my way of thinking. But when faced with swathes of difference, it often happens that the littlest suggestions of a common thread begin to stand out and attain significance. For me, the first of these was Elly's post My So-Called Out of Control Life- a non-bike-related essay thatexpressed my own unease with the hyper-confessional style of writing so popular with females of our generation. It was odd to read my own thoughts echoed in this piece, and to recognise our shared cultural references.



Shortly thereafter another common thread emerged: We both decided to quit facebook, independently and at around the same time. But what's more, is that right before I quit I noticed with amazement that Elly Blue appeared to be a "friend" of one of my real-world friends. How could they know each other? My very good friend L. has nothing to do with cycling, activism, or Portland. She does not read bicycle blogs (and, like most of my friends, has no idea that Lovely Bicycle exists). So how were they connected? I didn't feel comfortable asking at the time, but found myself paying closer attention to Elly Blue as a result of this discovery. When she announced the publication of Taking the Lane Volume 5: "Our Bodies Our Bikes," I bought one with intent to review it. She then included a couple of other volumes, so that I could get a better feel for the zine as a whole. I will be distributing those locally once I am done with them.



"A zine is like a small book or a large pamphlet, but with extra magic," explains the editor. And that it is. The compact format and eye-catching cover design make each zine inviting, pick-up-and-readable. My first thought: Is this a subversive tactic? Are these zines essentially vehicles for political agitation, which the attractive exterior and diminutive size are meant to ease the unseasoned reader into? But the Taking the Lane zines (a quarterly publication "about women and bicycling") are not quite that.



If I had to choose two words to describe my impression of the Taking the Lane zine, they would be "feminine" and "folkloric." Feminine because the various pieces of writing come across very strongly as being writtenby female authors andfor a female audience. And folkloric, because the tone of each piece is narrative and subjective. The authors do not attempt to speak for everyone, and they do not attempt to convince; they simply share their own experiences and thoughts - in a manner that is almost alarmingly unguarded in an era of self-conscious and self-defensive blog writing we are all growing increasingly used to. It is essentially lots of stories, told in lots of individual voices. In each zine, a theme emerges - and this emergence is organic, not forced. Reading a zine is like seeing the pattern reveal itself in a woven tapestry or piece of knitting, which comes back to the "feminine" feeling again. While I realise that associating femininity with folklore and traditional craft is loaded, nonetheless it is what went through my mind when reading thezines - I had the sense that I was listening to stories told in a knitting circle of contemporary-minded women.



"Our Bodies Our Bikes" (volume 5) contains snippets of personal experience as diverse as surviving cancer, worrying about body image, and having orgasms while cycling downhill. "Unsung Heros" (volume 3) contains some of the most compelling and disarming descriptions of bicycle activism I have ever read, precisely because it focuses on human experiences and not on the activism itself. "Sexy on the Inside" (volume 4) is an entire issue dedicated to the analysis of the bicycle dance troupe the Sprockettes that goes off on interesting tangents about the history of punk culture and various types of feminism. To explain the content of the zines in any more detail than this seems impossible, because by its very nature the content is resistant to summary. When there is no one succinct point, the writing is unskimmable, and the reader ends up reading everything. The message in Taking the Lane sinks in slowly and stays with you - even if you're not sure what that message is.



Whether these descriptions are making the zine seem good or bad, interesting or dull, I am not sure. It is a unique publication and reactions to it are bound to differ. Most if not all of the contributing writers seem to be from Portland, OR and the surrounding areas, which gives the zine a local feel, and as an East-coast resident I find myself not always sure that I "belong" in the audience. If this is something the editor wishes to change, she could invite writers from other regions to contribute. Based on the subject matter covered and on the glimpses we see of the writers' background, there is also a distinct sense of cycling being portrayed as a fringe subculture, which some readers may find difficult to relate to. As someone who feels passionate about cycling and bicycles, but whose style of dress, social life, and political views do not revolve around cycling, I sense that I am different from the zine's writers and intended audience. If this is not intentional, then perhaps some diversity on that end could be introduced into future issues as well. [Edited to add: East-coasters and non-cycling-subbaculturalists are welcome to email submission inquiries to "elly[at]takingthelane[dot]com"]



Publishing content in the form of a zine in itself signals that the content is of an "alternative" nature, and there are so many ways to play with that idea - which Elly very much does. How she develops the zine in the future depends mainly on what type, and how large of an audience she seeks.



As I read through the volumes of the Taking the Lane, the final question for me was whether these publications "needed" to exist in printed format. Can the same not be said online, in a blog? What would compel the reader to pay $3 per pamphlet when there is so much free content around covering many of the same topics? In the end my impression is that this writing would not in fact exist in an online format, simply because the internet discourages it. Whereas print was once a means to disseminate information as widely as possible, it can now function as a means of limiting our audience. In that context, the writers feel safe to express themselves in a manner they perhaps would not in a blog post, and the reader benefits from thoughtful, unself-conscious writing offering new perspectives on cycling, women and activism.



When I read Elly Blue's blog and twitter feed I disagree with her as often as I agree, but I am also fascinated with the way she expresses herself. Who knows, maybe one day we will meet and will either get along or not. Until then, I enjoy her writing online and in print.

A Most Civilised Outing

It was a sepia sort of afternoon. We were cycling through Cambridgeport, when Eustacia Vye spotted a charming lady friend on the hillside.

We decided to join her.

It continues to amaze me how much nicer it is to explore on a bicycle than using any other means of transportation. On foot, you are going too slowly and can't possibly cover as much distance. In a car you are going too fast. A bicycle is just right, and it is so easy to pull over when you come upon something interesting. Like a park full of cannons and carved iron figurines.

The Co-Habitant proceeded to inspect the weaponry, lest the ladies require protection.

Satisfied that all was in order, he assumed a post of vigilance. The ladies watched him with delight as they engaged in polite conversation.

In case you are wondering, this was shot in the Fort Washington Park in Cambridgeport - the site of one of the cannon emplacements used during the siege of Boston in the American Revolution. Once in a state of dilapidation, the park has recently been restored and made accessible to the public.

For more picturesque velo-nonsense, see the Lovely Bicycle flickr set.

Bad picture of a good fish

We walked in the creek. Apparently it's become our warm-weather holiday tradition. We spotted these fish, that I photographed poorly, and one other cool long-skinny-stripey one that I missed altogether.

Hubby said he thinks this is a sunfish. I looked online but couldn't find anything that matches exactly. (I'm hoping one of you will enlighten me.)

The weather was hot, the water was cool. The gnats were horrible. The mosquitoes, surprisingly, weren't unbearable. I did get an interesting bite that looked like it might have come from a 6-inch-tall vampire. It's still a little swollen, but I've experienced no bloodlust so far.

It hasn't rained in over three weeks. Most of the county got a nice downpour last weekend, but not here. The grass makes sad crunchy sounds. Hubby put in drip irrigation in most of the garden again this year, so I fired it up for a good soaking this week... and forgot to turn it off. For a long time. A looooong time. An "I'm embarrassed to tell my husband exactly how long" long time. The plants didn't seem to mind.