Yesterday afternoon we were in Grand Marais to pick up some groceries and possibly shoot the sunset. We were contemplating just heading back home without shooting sunset, though, because the cloud cover was so thick. But, just as we were deciding whether or not to head back, the clouds right along the horizon started to clear. So, we headed over to the campground to photograph the shoreline looking to the west. I sure was glad we decided to try it, because sunset was glorious! Especially when photographed over this shoreline ice that Jessica said looked like cotton candy. We also ran into fellow photographer and friend Bryan Hansel, who was coming out of the library when he noticed the same thing we did and headed to the same location as us. It's always a wonderful experience to witness a sunset such as this. Even better when you can share it with others!
The worn, nearly illegible grave marker for twin sons of William and Catherine Dunfee. It faces west and is in the shade most of the day. 
The grave marker "wrapped" in aluminum foil and rubbed down. While still not quite totally legible, this technique brings out some of the details, including the two doves at the top of the marker. The inscription at the bottom (beneath the parents names) still is not legible and some of the numbers are hard to read.
Cumberland Island National Seashore, St. Marys, Georgia
I felt that arranging the work in this way made an impact on several levels. In the most basic sense, it illustrated the sheer variety of possibilities when the concept of "bicycle" is evoked. Submissions included images of vintage 3-speeds, slick track bikes, stately roadsters, and even penny farthings.
Additionally, it showed the variety of personalities of the people who ride bicycles. The type of artwork a person makes, the colours they choose, the themes they portray - all of this is information that gives the viewer a glimpse of the artist's inner world.
There were many, many different inner worlds on display, rather than just some single stereotypical notion of "cyclist".
Indeed it was refreshing that the exhibition was not dominated by glossy images of excruciatingly hip young people doing excruciatingly hip things with track bikes. It really was representative of the community at large.
And the fact that all the pieces are the same size and priced equally, communicated the idea that everybody's vision of "bicycle" is equally valid, equally important, equally valuable.
In addition to the grid of small works on the main wall, 
All in all, I felt that 
In general, I would describe the 
As you have probably noticed, I own more than a couple of bicycles at this point. I have also sold a fewand may be paring down further before the summer's end. Most of the bicycles I've owned have gone through a variety of experimental alterations - some minor, others major; some successful and others not so much. So, what is the point of it all? Were some of these bicycles "mistakes" that I should not have gotten in the first place? And are my various projects ultimately wastes of time and money if I end up selling the bicycle in the end?
Bicycle ownership for me has two purposes. First and foremost, it is utilitarian: Ideally, I want to own several bicycles, each of which will excel at a designated function - such as commuting or cyclotouring. But I also enjoy learning about different kinds of bicycles. This includes understanding bicycle history, geometry, positioning, and the differences between manufacturing styles. And I would argue that this kind of knowledge can only truly be gainedthrough owning and riding a variety of bicycles; just reading and chatting about it is not sufficient. For me, bicycle ownership has been educational, and no bicycle I have acquired and subsequently let go of has been a "mistake": They have each helped me understand something crucial.
Some things I have learned through my experiences:
Though there have been frustrations, there have also been great rewards. The Pashley Princess was a dear fried whose beauty inspired me, and thanks to whose stability and reliability I immediately became comfortable with vehicular cycling. The Raleigh Lady's Sportstaught me all about vintage English 3-speeds, plunged me into anobsession with cream tires,and, ultimately, made me realise that I prefer loop frames to straight step-through frames. And the Mercier mixte helped me understand derailleur gearing by allowing me to boldly experiment with drivetrain conversion, as well as to experience an authentic French city bicycle from a bygone era.
Rapha is one of those companies that people tend to either love, or love to hate. Essentially a manufacturer of high-end cycling clothing, but also a magazine publisher, racing sponsor, event organiser, bicycle design collaborator, and general "lifestyle brand," Rapha promotes an unapologetically romantic vision of roadcycling via an endless output of dreamy images as part of its advertising and social media campaigns. Slender, beautifully backlit cyclists suffer exquisitely as they scale mountains - often in black and white, and often to the accompaniment of haunting music, fostering a sense of nostalgia for a time that is not yet in the past. The garments offered are minimalist and expensive. That is Rapha in a nutshell.
Now, let me make it clear that I have nothing against Rapha's marketing tactics. I appreciate an effective advertising campaign achieved through emotional channels, and for this they surely deserve an award. When something inspires suchexcellent parody, you know it's reached iconic status. I also have nothing against brands that are considered luxury or high end, if the quality of their products reflects the price. So what's my problem with Rapha? It's not so much a problem, as a genuine feeling of dissonance - at least when it comes to the women's line. When I encounter their clothing in person, what's in front of me does not match the image cultivated by the impressive adverts.
Take, for instance, theWomen's Stowaway Jacket. Last summer I was desperate for a cycling rain jacket after my old windbreaker came apart. I wanted the jacket to be form-fitting, waterproof, and, ideally, red. Having exhausted the less pricey alternatives, I followed up on a suggestion to try Rapha. The Stowaway happened to be on sale at the Ride Studio Cafe at the time, and I came prepared to buy it. I tried on the jacket. It wasn't bad. I mean, not horrendous. Basically, it looked like a tracksuit top circa 1982 - something you'd expect to see on, say, an East German gymnast of that era. It's an intriguing look if you can pull that sort of thing off,but not especially flattering. The shade of red also strikes me as uninspired: not an exciting bright red and not a classic vintagey-brick either, but a dated crimson that I do not readily associate with cycling.
True to '80s tracksuits styling, the fit is tight in the chest, but mysteriously baggy above the chest - forming strange folds at the collar that threatened to constrict my breathing.
And do you see that bulge in the back? You're probably thinking that's the rear pockets. Nope. This cycling jacket has no rear pockets; that's just a bulge that forms on its own.
Although there are side pockets, they are small - so small, that I had trouble sticking my hands inside. Mind you, none of these design flaws are at all unusual in the sadistic world of women's cycling apparel, and if anything Rapha is not as bad as some of the alternatives. But for me, that is just not good enough given what I was made to expect.
Moving on to the Classic Women's Jersey - which I had considered when looking for wool cycling clothing: The styling in itself is all right, except that the full-length zipper creates artificial "tummy folds," as is common with this type of jersey.
The fabric is described as "sportwool," but as soon as I put it on, it became clear that this was a euphemism for a polyester-heavy blend. I later checked and yup: "sportwool" is 60% polyester.
Though the minimalist design is tasteful and subtle, I would rate the texture of the fabric as average on the rough vs silky scale. And for a hot weather jersey, it seemed somewhat heavy to me.
One nice thing about the Rapha jerseys, is that they come with arm warmers. Problem is (and I am not the only one to have noted this), that the arm warmers seem to be one size smaller than the jersey - rendering them essentially useless for those whose arms are not stick-thin. Too bad, because including matching arm warmers is a wonderful idea.
I could go on about other items in the Rapha women's line, but that's probably enough for now. Suffice to say that I find all of it more or less all right, but by no means extraordinary either in quality or looks. I am supportive of what Rapha is trying to do - create inspiring, classic, tasteful, well made cycling clothing. We can certainly use more brands that create such clothing for female cyclists, so really, I am all for it. But come on Rapha: Live up to your image. Watching all those dreamy backlit videos, I expected some truly "epic" women's cycling apparel... and this ain't it.
