Blue Ice again?

I have been lucky enough to secure a steady flow of Blue Ice climbing gear to the NA market.



They offer someunique items now and more to come in the near future.



More here:

http://coldthistletools.blogspot.com//04/blue-ice-gear.html

Seat Stays, Who Needs Them?

Meet my latest long-term review visitor: the Paper Bicycle! Hailing from Scotland, this unusual city bike has recently become available in the US via Adeline Adeline in New York City.



TIG-welded in cro-moly steel, the Paper Bicycle has a number of unusual features - the most striking of which is perhaps the seat stay-free construction.



When I first saw pictures of this, I found it visually unsettling and intriguing in equal measure. How can such a frame design be stable?

Apparently, by reinforcing the seat tube with a hardy "ghost chaincase" structure on the non-drivetrain side. This is certainly one of the more unique frame designs I have seen. I daresay it officially beats the Urbana?

The Ride Studio Cafe received and prepared the bike for me, and I took the bus to Lexington, intending to cycle the 10 miles home on what I thought would be a geared, albeit clunky bike. Upon arrival I was alarmed to discover that the bike was a single speed. I braced myself for a tedious trip home.

But contrary to my expectations, the ride was terrific. Though hard to believe judging by the pictures, this thing really "flies" for me. It is also not as heavy as it looks - well under 40lb. Of the bikes I've tried so far, the handling reminds me of the Pilen and the Urbana in terms of stability (does this mean mountain bike geometry?), while also possessing an unexpected lightness and swiftness.

As usual, I will be riding this bicycle for a few weeks, then posting a review - after which it will be returned to Adeline Adeline. I will refrain from saying much more until I gain some additional experience with the Paper Bicycle, but I confess that I really like it so far, both the looks and the performance.

What do you think? I am too far gone into design appreciation la-la-land to tell whether my readers will find a given bicycle attractive or not, but to me this one looks downright beautiful. And now I leave you with a picture of Danny MacAskill... "jumping" a Paper Bicycle. Can you do that on your city bike?

Looking In

Lee took this photo of me in the crack in the rock. You can see the other side where it ends.

Tomatoes...Almost Ripe

This cluster of 'Oregon Spring' tomatoes is almost ripe.

In my garden, 'Oregon Spring' has not proven to be a vigorous variety. The plant seems to be slow-growing, and the fruits take forever to ripen.

Next year I will try something else.

Suggestions?

Racing, Spectating and the Human Factor

Two summers ago in Vienna I was fortunate to meet retired professional bicycle racer Kurt Schneider. Now in his 80s, he remains active on the Austrian racing scene in a supporting role, a local personality. A mutual friend introduced us, arranging to meet at Kurt's favourite tavern in the outskirts of the city. I expected it to be a reserved, formal encounter. I arrived to find a relaxed and stunningly energetic man laughing with the waitress, drinking wine, wearing a yellow Livestrong bracelet. We talked about his racing career and his thoughts on various topics, and it was utterly engaging. But even more than the content of that conversation I remember the ever-present twinkle in his eye, the overwhelming charm he exuded. By the end of the evening I was practically sitting on his lap. It was unbelievable. For me it is people like this who make the sport come alive.




As a spectator, my interest in bicycle racing is oddly selective. I notice for instance that I am more drawn to the local racing scene than to the international pro stuff. The more real the person is to me, the more meaning their racing efforts hold. I am in awe of some of the amateur racers I've met in the Boston area. Their physique, their demeanor, their very presence make me "feel" the sport, and I get genuinely excited about it. I love to watch them, and I follow their results with interest. And yet I do not find it terribly exciting to watch professional racing on television. I don't know what it is, but today's big names seem like sterile corporate identities to me. I sense no fire or magical charisma in their personas. I cannot get myself to care about their results or their doping scandals. Maybe it is a matter of not having met them in person. Maybe I am just not into the sport enough to understand. And maybe professional racing is just different now than it was in Kurt Schneider's time. As a spectator, I want more of the human factor, the charisma, the twinkle in the eye.

Review of "Spoke Count" at the Chorus Gallery

On Saturday night I stopped by the opening of Spoke Count, a group exhibition at the Chorus Gallery in Somerville Mass., which is affiliated with Open Bicycle. As someone who has both exhibited at and curated a fair number of shows, I thought it would be interesting to write an informal review of this one. Despite my friendly affiliation with Open, I believe that I can be objective, and I hope the organisers of the show will not take offense at anything expressed here.

Spoke Count is a collaborative installation of over 100 small works about bicycles, submitted by local artists. Each piece is no greater than 8" in one direction and the work is arranged in a large grid along the gallery's main wall, in much the same manner as we are accustomed to seeing a set of "thumbnails" in a virtual image gallery.

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, Spoke Count displays several bicycles that are of historical interest. These hang suspended from the ceiling, their gentle swaying evoking the comparison of cycling to the feeling of flying. Among the bicycles on display is my 1936 Raleigh Lady's Tourist (not for sale).

All in all, I felt that Spoke Count is a successful exhibition both in terms of the way it is put together and in terms of what it communicates. An additional question that is often asked in a themed show like this, is whether it stands on its own as an art exhibition per se, rather than just being a show for bicycle enthusiasts. For the most part, my answer to that would be "Yes". Joshua Kampa knows what he is doing when it comes to aesthetics and critical theory. And in terms of relevance, Spoke Count succeeds as a meditation on a significant social change that is currently taking place in the community. It is a small, cozy show that does not attempt any grand gestures. And yet it sends a strong, personal message.

In general, I would describe the Chorus Gallery not as a place that exhibits "bicycle themed art", but as a gallery featuring a diverse selection of young local artists whose work is occasionally related to the theme of bicycles or self-propelled movement. Having said that, one thing I believe would help the gallery affirm itself as a community art space, is making an effort to reach out to a more diverse audience. The openings at Chorus are always exceptionally well attended. But in some previous ones I have been to, there was a feeling that all the attendees knew each other and that the event was more of a party than an art opening. And while such an atmosphere is fun and full of energy, it can feel alienating to visitors who have come to see the art and are not part of "the scene". At Spoke Count, I noted a more diverse group of visitors than at previous openings, and I hope this trend continues. As a community art space in Union Square in Somerville, the Chorus Gallery has tremendous potential and I am looking forward to its future shows.

The Three-Year-Old Amaryllis That Bloomed

Red Amaryllis, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

After purchasing this amaryllis bulb 3 years ago, I never figured it would bloom again.

Well, this spring, it did!

Pit Profile 2/14/

If you are heading to higher elevations, be aware that the top of the slope heading up to Panorama Point was icy on Saturday under a light layer of new snow that has now increased to a depth of about 6".

The current forecast is predicting almost a foot of snow at Paradise this weekend.

Waffles will be happening throughout the day on Monday February 20 in the Old Station at Paradise. Fuel your adventures. Again please bring your own cup/mug and a topping or fixings to donate.

Pass It Along

A few weeks ago, I experienced my very first incident of dropping a chain. Of all the times this could happen, it happened during a paceline ride: We were transitioning from a downhill to an abrupt uphill and I rapidly switched to the small chainring. It's funny how we don't immediately recognise things that we haven't experienced before, and it took me a moment to understand what was happening. I sensed that pedaling suddenly became way too easy and that I was losing speed rapidly... but what could be the matter? It wasn't until somebody yelled "chain off!" that I looked down - and oh my God, my chain was off! It was surreal, like one of those dreams where someone says "But why are you wearing a duck costume?" and that's when you realise that, indeed, you are wearing a duck costume. First comes the wave of shock, then realisation that this must be a dream. Except this time I was awake - and aware that three other girls were pedaling behind me, so that a sudden stop on my part would likely cause a crash.

Everything happened quickly. I managed to make a "pulling over" gesture, then steered the chainless bike onto the grass and dismounted, averting disaster.But the rest was pathetic. Though I knew how to get the chain back on, my hands were not cooperating. Soon I was covered in grease and bleeding from somehow having cut myself on the chainring, but the chain would not stay on. "Need help?" said a voice next to me. I became aware that one woman stayed behind with me and was now observing my ineptitude. Still in a state of shock and now also red with embarrassment, I could not even answer coherently, and could only mutter "it won't stay on... why won't it stay on?.." Next thing I knew, she calmly took the bike from me, put the chain back on the ring, and turned the pedals until the chain was back on. I felt like an idiot as I thanked her profusely - but she expressed not an ounce of annoyance. "Don't worry about it. I froze the first time it happened too." I don't know whether this was true, or whether she was just being self-deprecating to make me feel better, but it did make me feel better.

Fast forward to my ride this morning. I stopped to drink some water and saw a woman walking her bike toward me from the side of the road. "Excuse me, could I use your phone?" I gave her my phone and asked what happened. She replied, with some embarrassment, that her chain came off and she wasn't able to get it back on. She wanted to call her boyfriend for a ride. "I know how to do it, but it's just not working." I looked at her chain and decided to give it a try. This time I wasn't nervous or under pressure to fix my bike as soon as possible. I said "May I?" and - miracle of miracles - got the chain back on. She rode the bike down the path and back, confirmed that it was working, and no longer wanted to call her boyfriend. She was just as flustered about not having been able to do it herself as I had been two weeks earlier. So I said the same thing the woman in the paceline had said to me:"Don't worry about it. I froze the first time it happened too." It was true!

When mechanical problems happen, I think it's natural to freeze. We may know how to fix things in theory, but when it's actually happening to us for the first time, it's a different story. It's nice to be helped without being judged as inept. I appreciated that help when I got it, and will reciprocate in the same manner when I can.

Tombstone Tuesday :: John Bray

John Bray is my one and only Revolutionary War ancestor who made it to Indiana. He is my 4th Great-Grandfather and is buried in McKay Cemetery, Craig Township, Switzerland County, Indiana.


John was born on April 28, 1761 probably in Maryland or Virginia to Henry and Cathryn Bray. According to other researchers, John's wife was Nancy Morgan, reportedly a sister of Nathan Morgan who also lived in Switzerland County. However, I have found no evidence to support those claims.

According to his pension record affidavit, John enlisted in 1777 in “Romley” Hampshire county, Virginia under Captain William Voss of the 12th Virginia regiment. He served three years and was honorably discharged at Yorktown, Pennsylvania by colonel Morgan. He was wounded in the battles of Brandywine (Delaware), Monmouth (New Jersey) and Stony Point (New York) and also participated in many other skirmishes.

In December 1784, John received a bounty land warrant for 100 acres of land for his three years of service and, with his father and several other siblings took up residence in what was then Nelson County, Virginia (it became Nelson County, Kentucky in 1792).

His first son, John Bray Jr. was born about 1787 so it has been assumed that he married his first wife about 1786 in Nelson County, Virginia but no record of the marriage has been found. It has been assumed that his first seven children were by this wife (presumed to be Nancy Morgan).

John and his children removed to Switzerland County, Indiana at about the time Indiana became a state (1816). On April 15, 1820 in Gallatin County, Kentucky (just across the Ohio River from Vevay) John was married to Mrs. Elizabeth Coones. They would have three (or four) children, the last one born just four years prior to John's death on June 10th 1832 at the age of 71.

John's will, dated June 26th 1832, names his beloved wife Elizabeth and children: the youngest son George Bray got the land. His three oldest sons (John, Daniel, and Samuel Bray) each received one dollar. The three oldest girls (Jane Ray, Elizabeth Cotton, and Nancy Culver) also received one dollar. The three younger girls (Pelina, Amealy, and Sophia Bray) were each given one bed and bedding.

George, Amelia, and Sophia were the children of his wife Elizabeth and perhaps, so was Pelina. We have no record of what became of her.

Much more information on John Bray as well as his siblings and children, can be found in my database on WorldConnect.

Sparks Will Fly

Sparks Will Fly, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

As part of a photographic experiment in long exposures, earlier tonight I launched a small shovelful of glowing bonfire embers into the air and onto a very wet, rain-soaked lawn. The end result showed the embers leaving parabolic trails in the air, quite an interesting study of math in nature.

Although, I would hardly call hurling embers a natural occurrence.

Don't worry - the rain was coming down all night and I had the hose handy...no houses burned down in the making of this picture.

Last Woman Standing

Pushing my bike uphill, I am high off the ground and high on happiness.




"Look, look! I can stand out of the saddle!"




My riding companion's face registers confusion, then bewildered comprehension.




"Oh my God. You mean all this time you couldn't?!"

"Nope!"




Funny that she hadn't noticed - although many people I ride with don't seem to notice my deficiencies in cycling skills; I guess I find ways to disguise them. But privately I remain acutely aware of those deficiencies. And ever since I started riding as an adult, I've been trying to master this particular "skill" - something most riders seem to take for granted as just being part of riding a bike. Standing up when a gear feels too high is simply the natural thing to do for them. Pedal sitting, pedal standing, what's the difference?




For me there was a big difference. Since childhood, I've had problems with balance and proprioception (the awareness of one's body in space), both of which made riding a bike in anything but a rudimentary manner seem unattainable. 4 years ago, I could hardly swing a leg over a top tube without toppling over. But my irrational love of cycling made me persistent. Things are much better now than they used to be, to the point that I can almost pass for "normal" on a roadbike - all the more reason my few remaining difficulties are so frustrating.




So what was the problem getting out of the saddle?.. The physical memory is disappearing now, but try to imagine this: Whenever I'd try to stand up, I would lose the sense of where I was in relation to both the bike and the ground. Not only did I have no intuitive notion of how to hold my body up when no longer seated, but I'd start to experience general disorientation and mild vertigo. Not surprisingly, these sensations would make me anxious, which in turn made the whole thing worse; a vicious cycle.Verbal instructions from well-meaning riding companions did not help. This was obviously just something I needed to work on myself. And I did keep trying.




But the first break-through came when I wasn't trying at all. It was a couple of months ago. I was riding an Xtracycle Radishone day, up a gentle hill. Just before I was about to reach the top, I stood up and leaned forward instead of downshifting. My mind was elsewhere and the whole thing was unintentional; it just happened. After I realised what I'd done, I was so happy I almost had to pull over on the side of the road to laugh or cry or something. My mind was blown!I tried it again later, this time intentionally. It was not quite as natural as the first time. I was jerky in my movements and my legs grew tired quickly,but for a few pedal strokes at a time it worked.




Several days later came the 300K brevet. I was losing time on a long climb, and in a moment of frustration I tried standing up again so that I could push a bigger gear. This did not feel the same as it did on the Xtracycle and I nearly fell off my bike. After that I decided to give my standing attempts a little rest.




And I did, until one day - on my roadbike in Northern Ireland - it "just happened" again on its own. I simply stood up, absent-mindedly on a short hill. This time I decided to harness whatever impulse had enabled me to do this. Continuing to ride on rolling terrain I stood up again and again, rather than switching gears, until I began to trust that I could do it. After a week of this, I was no longer hesitant or nervous to stand up at will.




A few days ago I pedaled over to County Tyroneto visit a friend. It was a 100 mile day with around 6,000 feet of climbing over the "shoulders" of the Sperrins mountain range. I stood up whenever I wanted, and finally, in the course of this ride, it began to feel as I imagine it's felt to other riders all along - normal.




One thing I realise now, is that in addition to whatever balance issues were involved, another problem was weak legs. At first my legs would start to quiver after just a short time out of the saddle; I felt like one of those newborn colts learning to walk. On a serious hill, I still get worn out quickly when standing. So even though thebalance and proprioceptionproblems are gone, I continue to practice just to develop more leg strength. And finesse. At the moment, my technique is not exactly elegant. I don't throw the bike from side to side needlessly, but my pedal strokes are jerky and awkward compared to how I pedal seated.




As my last two years of roadcycling have shown, it is possible to do even long distance rides without ever standing out of the saddle. And there are, after all, experienced riders who simply prefer not to stand. I do not know whether I am one of them yet. But once I form a preference, it will be exactly that - a preference, and not a limitation.

Another Balloon

ANT Headbadge in the Making

Visiting ANTyesterday, I got to see something very cool: The making of a headbadge from start to finish. The ANTheadbadgelooks like a piece of antique jewelry - resembling an oxidised copper brooch. I've been wondering how Mike Flanigan makes them, and now I know:





Turns out the headbadges are brass, not copper. While initially Mike made them by hand, for years now he has been getting them laser-cut in batches. But on this occasion he needed a headbadge for a bike with a short headtube, so he made a smaller one from scratch, starting with a blank plaque.





The headtube was not only small, but had decorative lugwork around the edges, limiting the space for the badge quite a bit.To start with, Mike measured the available space and cut down one of the blanks to size with a saw.





Using one of the laser-cut badges as a model, he then drew the design on the smaller blank freehand in black marker. Because of the difference in scale, the ant on the smaller badge came out slightly differently - chubbier and shorter, with a rounded head. We decided it was a juvenile ant.





Not sure whether this is obvious, but the rendering of the insect actually spells "ANT" - the head being the "A," the torso the "N" and the bottom the "T." It's a clever logo.






Using a variety of files and an awl, Mike carved out the ant and "distressed" the plaque.






The remaining traces of marker were then removed and the surface smoothed down.





Once the headbadge was ready, the patina was applied. This is the stuff that gives the headbadge the look of oxidised copper.





This is a liquid patina goes on blue, but turns rusty-green as it air-dries. The process can be speeded up by putting the patina-covered headbadge in a plastic bag for a few minutes.






As the "oxidation" completed, Mike attached the badge to the headtube and it was done. The process took about 30 minutes total and was pretty exciting to watch. I don't think that many headbadges are carved out freehand anymore, and doing it this way gives them a distinctly hand-made look. A big thank you to Mike for letting me observe and share the process!

The horses at Grand Oaks

While we loved seeing the museum, I think the highlight of our visit to Grand Oaks Resort and Carriage Museum was our time with the horses after we saw the museum. First we visited one of the many barns, to see if there were any horses in their stalls.



We did not find any horses there so we headed to the pastures. There are 400 gorgeous acres at Grand Oaks and everywhere we looked, we were surrounded by beauty and horses.



Here are were some of the sweethearts we got to spend time loving on.





And I just have to share two shots of this beauty. Can you believe those eyes?!?




She was a sweetie too!




Living the life in The Villages, FL.

Bicycle Headbadges: Going Custom

A post on ecovelo some months ago noted the increasing scarcity of bicycles that come with headbadges. Alan writes:

"Bicycle head badges are ...slowly being replaced by decals as a cost saving measure. I love head badges and in my opinion any bike without one feels incomplete and cheapened due to its absence. Some are works of art, while others are downright kitschy, but they all speak volumes about the bike on which they’re mounted. Let’s hope they don’t completely disappear in the coming years."

I could not agree more. Both my Pashley Princess and my Rivendell Sam Hillborne frame came with beautiful headbadges, and I knew from the start that I would want one for my custom mixte as well. After looking around a bit, I discovered that Shane of BostonBiker.org is a metal worker and makes splendid bicycle headbadges.

["Getting Schooled" Alleycat Race headbadge, by Shane S. ]

What I like about Shane's work is that it is artisanal: every badge is hand made, which I think is a good match for the "expressionist woodcut" style logo I have chosen. In the course of making arrangements with him to create my headbadge we also discussed the process itself, and I paraphrase it here in case others are curious how this works.

[Boston Tweed Ride headbadge, by Shane S. ]
To order a custom headbadge, the customer needs to decide on three things: image, material and size. If you know exactly what you want your headbadge to look like, it is best to provide the exact image in electronic form. But if you just have a general idea or a theme, Shane can also create the design himself. He begins with a sketch on paper, then transitions to photoshop, resulting in a final image which is then printed out and used as a stencil to create a metal cutout. The headbadge can be flat, or it can have an etched or layered design. The latter can be done on copper, brass, and bronze.

Selecting the material for the headbadge really depends on your preferences. Brass is probably the most typical metal used for headbadges, but Shane also works with steel, aluminum, silver, copper, and bronze. Copper is relatively easy to work with because it is thin, and the green oxidation it produces can make for an interesting effect. Sterling silver (like the headbadge on the left, made for a customer) is a very special choice, but pricey. Steel is durable, but difficult to work with when it comes to fine detail. Once the headbage is completed, the surface is finished according to the customer's request: mirror, matte, or brushed. Each metal and finish has a unique look to it, and you should consider how these will suit the style and colour of your bicycle frame. I will be getting a brass headbadge for my mixte, because it is classic and will complement the "sea-mist" frame colour nicely.

The size of the headbadge is entirely up to the customer. Consider the proportions of your headtube - or measure an existing headbadge that you think is sized just perfectly.


[Cogs for Cans Charity Race headbadge, by Shane S. ]

Once the customer receives the finished headbadge, they (or their bike shop) can use a rawhide mallet to gently bend it to the shape of their head tube. Shane can drill holes in the metal to allow for screws to affix it to the bike. An alternative is to use double sided tape from 3M or epoxy to affix the head badge.

And then of course there is the matter of price. Shane's custom headbadges start at $50. The price depends on the cost of the materials (the choice of metal itself plus its size) and the complexity of the image. I was tempted to ask for a price-quote for a 14K gold headbadge with a photo-realistic rendering of my cats, but held off in case he took me seriously. If you are interested in Shane's work, get in touch via BostonBiker.org's contact page. If you have other headbadge makers to recommend in your area, feel free to chime in.

Mountains

Would have liked to go to the mountains on this 3 day weekend, but I know they are always packed on the first holiday of the summer. Besides we can't afford the gas, and neither of us is feeling that good to take that long of a drive. So guess we will just hang out here at the house. Pet the dogs, cats, and horses, and watch the car races. I did give Sonny a bath this morning. The horses were attached yesterday by some sort of horrid bitting, bloodsucking nat (gnat). Each one I killed was full of blood. So I made a stronger fly spray and sprayed them good yesterday and today and got out the fly masks. I had bathed Nita and Star a few weeks ago but hadn't done Sonny yet this spring. He really likes his bath and to be pampered with grooming. Now to teach the ponies, Trave and Stormy that they can like it, too.