Grand Canyon :: From Indian Gardens to The Rim

It was getting dark as we returned from Plateau Point. We had a quick supper then laid our sleeping bags and pads on the tarp. No tent. It would be my first time sleeping under the stars. It had cooled down quickly with the darkness and we didn't waste any time crawling into the sleeping bags. The night sky was filled with bright, brilliant stars. Amazing. During our brief visit, I had told Craig Manson that the night sky at Big Bed was incredible, but here in the Grand Canyon it was even more so. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that there was nothing between me and the sky! Several times I woke up during the night and simply gazed at all of the stars in the sky.

I awoke at first light, made a quick trip to take care of the necessities, and sat at the picnic table wrapped in the sleeping bag to wait for Sue and Fred to wake up. I was a little stiff, partially from sleeping on the ground but also from yesterday's hikes. I was dreading the trek that was to come yet oddly looking forward to it. I recalled a sign posted alongside the trail at the 3-mile rest-house “Getting to the bottom, OPTIONAL. Getting to the top, MANDATORY.” We hadn't gone to the bottom, but still, the only way out was up, and you had to walk it.

It was another beautiful day! The sun had finally crested the rim, throwing it's warming rays into the Canyon. The coolness of the early morning spurred us on. We were packed and on the trail at 7 o'clock.

A group of half a dozen small deer greeted us at the 3-mile rest-house.

The Rim. The end. The beginning. Taken from the 3-mile rest-house a few minutes after 8 a.m.

Indian Gardens and Plateau Point, with the North Rim in the background. Photo taken at 9:45, near the 1.5-mile rest-house.

Look, we're smiling! That's because we know we're near the top (we were just 7 minutes away at the time) and almost finished with a fantastic experience. It was worth every ache and pain along the way (and the ones for several days after).

The trek to the top took not quite five hours. We left Indian Springs at 7 a.m. and arrived at the rim at 11:50. We celebrated by stopping at the Bright Angel Lodge Dining Room for a hot meal then back to the campground for a hot shower! The rest of the day was spent resting, relaxing, and recuperating, though the latter took several more days for me!

Thank you so much Sue and Fred for allowing me to join you on this trek. I've said it before, and I'll say it again – it was AMAZING! And possibly the most challenging and fantastic thing I've done on this journey, or ever!


Other posts in this series:

• Grand Canyon :: Bright Angel Trail to Indian Gardens (part 1)
• Grand Canyon :: Bright Angel Trail to Indian Gardens (part 2)
• Grand Canyon :: Indian Gardens to Plateau Point (part 3)

Lovely Dress Guards Give-Away

To brighten up your Fall, I am giving away these fantastic, colourful Dutch dress guards, which I reviewed here earlier.



To receive the dress guards, please ask your bicycle - yes, your bicycle - to post a comment here explaining why he or she would like them. A link to pictures of the bicycle is a plus (but please no nudity). My Dutch bike,Linda, will then decide which she likes best and will announce the recipient on Friday.



Comments by humans will be disregarded; bicycles only please. Multiple bicycles belonging to the same owner are eligible.Have fun, and thank you for reading Lovely Bicycle!

What Tan Lines?

thanks to PL for the leg modeling!

This summer I've received some emails from readers asking for suggestions on how to get rid of tan lines from bicycle shorts. The women I ride with sometimes discuss this as well. Some say they actively try to cultivate cycling tan lines, seeing them as a source of pride and part of their identity as road cyclists. Others say they dislike tan lines, because they look unflattering when wearing skirts and bathing suits. For me, it's more about the attention they generate and feeling branded: I've had stares and questions from cyclists and non-cyclists alike that I'd rather avoid.




For those who do not wish to cultivate obvious cycling tan lines, one solution is to alternate bicycle shorts of different lengths. Assuming that you are not a racer who is required to ride in a specific kit, yet ride often enough to justify owning more than one pair of shorts, this method works pretty well. I now own three pairs of shorts, each from a different manufacturer: One hits just above the knee, the other half way up the thigh, and the third somewhere in between. I make sure to rotate them, while also doing my best to regularly apply sun screen. The result is a very gradual colour-fade from the knees up instead of a harsh tan line. The leg model above is sporting a similar look, though a little more crisp than mine.




If you've already got the tan lines and need to quickly get rid of them (say, for an event), try makeup. Buy liquid makeup in a shade that matches the tanned area and apply it to the untanned part - reducing the density as you move upward. A friend of mine did this when she had to wear a short bridesmaid's dress (the bride said the tan lines would ruin her wedding photos). It works, though will smear on the underside of your hem a bit. Spray tan would also work if you need the effect to last longer, though makeup tends to look more natural.




What's your take on tan lines from cycling shorts? Are you bothered by them, pleased by them, or does it not matter? I admit that I've identified other cyclists by their tan lines... though I try not to stare!

Rural Cycling: Fantasy vs Reality

Though fate has been such that I've spent most of my life in cities and suburbs, I have always been drawn to rural areas. When I first started working after grad school, I finally got my wish and lived in the rural North for two years - but for logistical reasons this could not last, and we subsequently moved to Boston. Still, I continue to dream of long country roads, of creaky farm houses surrounded by unruly gardens, of moody seascapes with not a housing development in sight, and of miles of dense forest stretching as far as the eye can see. This is probably what drives my interest in touring, and I use my bike to get out of the city every chance I get.

On Memorial Day we rode through the hilly country roads of Lexington, Lincoln and Concord. It is so nice there, that my rural fantasies flared up again big-time. Oh to wake up in my farmhouse (modestly sized, white clapboard, mansard roof), get the bike out of the barn, and cycle 20+ miles along a pastoral landscape to the nearest town on errands... I get overwhelmed just thinking about it!

But how realistic is cycling for transportation in a rural area? According to the Co-Habitant, my dreams will be crushed by harsh reality if I actually get what I want. He reminds me how far away everything is from everything else. He reminds me that in Northern New England winter can last from mid-November till April and in many areas it is impossible to get around without an all-wheel drive motor vehicle. He reminds me that cars do not uphold the speed limit on those picturesque winding rural roads, and points out that narrow road + blind turns + trucks speeding along at 60mph = bad news for cyclists. Plus, when it gets dark in the countryside, it gets really dark - pitch black! Will I be able to deal with that?

I agree with all of these points if I stop to think about it. Yet, I continue to depict myself as a rural cyclist in my mental picture of the "ideal future". Is it pure fantasy? Will I be longing for the bike lanes and the urban landscape of Boston when living in my farm house in the middle of nowhere? I do wish there were more websites out there that focused on rural cycling, so that I could form a better idea of its practical aspects. The cows refused to share their honest opinion.

Mt. Adams, South Climb

One group at the start of a good climb on Adams.



Chris on the steepest part of the climb.




More climbers heading up Widowmaker.




Mt. St. Helens and sunset as seen from our camp at 9,300'.




Climbers starting up the south face early in the morning.







The true summit as seen from the false summit. There were a lot of threatening clouds and even some wind-driven 1/4" hail, but it did not last long.



One group on the summit...



and another...



and another...



and another.




What a great climb. The road was clear, the weather was good and the snow was excellent. The guides were awesome, the sherpas were strong and the climbers were determined. What more could you ask for?

Yorktown Victory Monument

Today we headed over to Yorktown. While driving around, we came across this monument. We hadn't even heard of this monument before, so we felt quite lucky that we did happen upon it. It was just gorgeous!

Some fun facts:

The concluding battle of the Revolutionary War ended October 19, 1781 in Yorktown, Virginia. General Cornwallis and his 7,157 men surrendered to General Washington. To commemorate the important Allied Victory over the British, the Continental Congress on October 29, 1781, authorized the Yorktown Victory Monument. Construction began a century later with completion in 1884.

Lady Victory, a younger sister to the Statue of Liberty, exquisitely tops a slender pedestal of Maine granite. In 1956, replacement of the original figure of liberty, damaged by lightening, took place.

The shaft is 84 feet high and Liberty is 14 feet high.

This is a monument that we are sure to remember!

Living the life in Historical Virginia!

Velo Conversations

Over the past two days I have been cycling a lot around town on various errands. It's been cold but sunny, and the roads are entirely clear of snow. Cycling down a main road, I often get the feeling that I just want to keep going and going, picking up speed until I am faster than all the cars and not stopping until I reach some mysterious far-off place, like Western Massachusetts. Alas, there were errands to do.

One nice thing about winter cycling, is the availability of bike parking. In the summer, all the bike racks next to or even near the post office are usually full. But nowadays I am one of the few bicycles there.

Interestingly, the racks outside my favourite grocery store are full even in winter. When I came out of the store, there was a woman waiting for me next to my bike who wanted to ask some questions about it. She was riding a "winter bike" - an aluminum mountain bike with very wide knobby tires - and complained that it was much too slow, and that the chain often came off. How was mine? I summarised for her everything that I've described here, and she was excited - until she asked me about the price. She then told me that she is "not in a position to afford a bicycle in that price range". I asked how much her winter bike cost. The price she told me was 60% of what my Pashley cost. I decided to leave it at that, rather than get into a long conversation about "value".

This was one of several unexpected velo-conversations with strangers that I've had over the past few days. The second one happened when I was stopped at a red light. A cyclist on a road bike pulled up next to me, said hello, and asked whether I was riding an electric assist bike. "Oh no, it's just a regular bike," I said - secretly offended that someone would even think it was electric assist. He then asked what the hub on my front wheel was for, and I explained about dynamo-powered lighting. This seemed to be a new concept for the roadbike cyclist and he was pleased to learn about it.

I wonder now how many others who see me cycling think that I have electric assist on my bike because of that front hub! Hopefully, as city bikes with good lighting and drum brakes become more popular, such misunderstandings should decrease. As it is, even Shimano is all about dynamo hubs and drum brakes - as this advert I recently saw attests. It is nice to see a large manufacturer embrace the image of the upright city bicycle in its ads: It is a good indicator that city and transport bicycles have a future in mainstream cycling.

But the third conversation I had took the cake: I went to a cafe to do some work, and locked my bike outside in a way that was visible from the cafe windows. As I settled in with my coffee, a group of older ladies began a conversation with me that basically consisted of disturbing admonitions about all the horrible things that could happen to me on a bike. One of them had a grandson who was hit by a truck. Another knew "at least six young people" who had been involved in gruesome cycling accidents. And so on. I assured them that I was very careful on my bike and somehow managed to politely disentangle myself from the conversation. But my goodness, it is frustrating that cycling seems to invite unsolicited advice of this sort. On the one hand, I know that it's because people "care". But on the other hand, there is a fine line between "caring" and relishing an opportunity to dispense advice. I try to keep that in mind.

Technical Hammers Revisited.

Ice Blue Sky

Here's an abstract ice shot from earlier this week. I found this piece of ice along the shoreline of the Grand Marais harbor, then held it up against the sky and took a picture of it. The overall size of the ice from left to right was about 18 inches. Ice is fascinating and I never tire of photographing it!

Velophilia and Its Symptoms (and Announcing Dress Guards Recipient!)

Several days ago I offered togive away a set of dress guards, and the rule was for bicycles (not their owners) to post comments about why they would like them. I expected a dozen or so comments from bicycles, but receivedclose to 40... which made me realise that I am by far not the only one to anthropomorphise my bicycles to a point that borders on delusion. And the good news, is that when 40 people share the same delusion, that's called sanity!



[image via Laura B.]

Without further ado, I now announce whom my bicycle Linda has chosen as the recipient of the dress guards: a 1950's step-through Dutch bike named Fanny (pictured above). Here is Fanny's comment:

I'm a Dutch lady, from the mysterious Fanal family, born in the 1950s. I have naked holes running along both sides of my back fender. After reading your post about dress guards, I realized how un-lady-like it has been to leave these dress guard anchors exposed.

I have recently been working on my appearance--rust removal, new pedals, touch-up painting, pin-striping with a gold paint pen, re-shellacking my grips, etc. It would be so nice to show up at the farmer's market this weekend with a lovely dress guard. The lilac branches in my photo (link below) might have appreciated the guard, too.

Love,

Fanny, the Fanal

A vintage Dutch bicycle who lives in exile in the US, loves lilacs and has gaping holes in her fender? Linda dabbed at her eyes with an embroidered hanky as she read Fanny's story, and would like her to have the dress guards. If Fanny's human companion Laura B. could please send me her mailing address, the dress guards shall be on their way to her shortly! And thank you everybody for all the bicycle comments on that post; they were hilarious and a lot of fun to read!



Speaking of acute symptoms of Velophilia, I knitted this skirt while convalescing from my hopefully-not-pneumonia. The design is bicycle friendly:It looks like a narrow pencil skirt from the front, but the pointed end in the back allows it to open up while pedaling. I think cycling exclusively on a road bike for the past several weeks has made me crazed with desire to ride an upright bicycle in a skirt again.



And once the skirt was completed, I also realised that my choice of yarn looked a little familiar...



Ah yes, my mixte!My Velophilia is at its most acute when something prevents me from cycling as much as I'd like. Everything I do ends up being about bicycles.I look forward to returning to Boston later this weekend, hopefully entirely recovered.

Pickleball Tournament at Sun City

Rich and Donna invited us to another Pickleball Tournament in Sun City. So we got up very early this morning and headed over there. I saw some familiar faces from last year and many new ones. From our Thousand Trails group there was Rich, Donna, Stan, Sally, Buddy, Tracy and Nathan, Austin and I.



The courts here are very nicely done so they are easy to play on. We did have some wind and sun, but not so much so that we couldn't play. I saw a lot of really good games played today.



And now, a moment to pause and brag on the boy. Whenever we are in these type of settings, I am always so impressed with how he handles himself. He was the only person under 40 playing and yet he acted as respectably and maturely as most of the adults there. He's pretty cute too!

Ok, back to the tournament! There were games for men and women's doubles in the morning. Mixed doubles in the afternoon. A bunch of people left after the morning games. Some without letting anyone know. So that switched things up in the afternoon. They did a great job of still making it a lot of fun and working out so those of us who stayed had fun.



I'm so glad we did go, and we are already making plans for the next one in February!



living the life in sunny Florida!

Finding their groove

A dog team finds its rhythm after blasting out of the starting gate at the first-ever Gichigami Express Sled Dog Race in Grand Portage, MN on January 6, .


This is my favorite shot from this morning. I gotplenty of cool shots of the dogs lunging forward at the starting line, but this one I think tells more of a story. The starting line is chaos; with dogs barking, mushers and handlers scrambling to keep things in order, and spectators everywhere. A couple hundred yards down the trail the chaos of the starting line is nowhere to be found. All you hear is the rhythm of the dogs breathing and the sound of the sled as it glides by on the surface of the snow. It is a wonderful thing to witness!