Cycling in a Coastal Downpour

On the second morning of our trip I awoke to the sound of vigorous drums, which I soon realised was pelting rain. Outside, the line between sky and ocean was blurred and the patch of rocky beach we occupied was flooded. Inside, everything was damp from humidity - our clothing, the bedding, our faces. We had known that the forecast promised intermittent rain, so this was not a surprise and we didn't despair. We were not planning to cycle every day; we had loads of other things to do. We would see.



But as we drank coffee, the rain appeared to let up. Things were looking good - picturesquely stormy, but calm. It looked as if the downpour had exhausted itself in the course of the night and we decided to set off on our bikes after all, going along the coast for a manageable distance.



The ride started out fine. We made our way up a winding hill, past ominously abandoned beaches. Moody skies hung low over a dark gray ocean. The empty roads were promising. There was only a mild drizzle and we agreed that if things stayed like this, it would be even better than sunny weather - cooler, and less crowded. After cycling for a bit it grew humid and I removed my rain jacket, stashing it inside the handlebar bag. Two minutes later, the skies opened up. There was no build-up; it was as if someone opened a floodgate.



Instead of turning back we persisted, hoping the rain would eventually ease up again. But it only intensified. The amount of water was unbelievable, even compared to the many other times I've cycled in the rain. Visibility became non-existent, with everything turning gray and liquidy. The roads became flooded and soon I was cycling with my wheels partly submerged in water. Roads are terrible in this area, and even on a dry day it is a task to navigate around potholes. Now that they were invisible underwater, I could neither anticipate nor avoid them. My bike bounced violently over ditches at high speeds. This felt distinctly unsafe, especially on curvy descents. On a bike with narrow tires, the ride would have been simply impossible for me.



The coastal road was narrow and winding. As I tried to maintain a consistent line of travel, motorists sped past us, well over the posted speed limit, sending sprays of yet more water in our direction. I had my lights on and could only hope I was visible to them. My jersey - which had started out a bright crimson - was now a dark, dull brown. There are a few tricky spots on this route, where several roads merge on a twisty downhill - so that one must resist picking up speed and be prepared to brake instead. At these instances it became frighteningly apparent that my brakes did not work well under such conditions. I suspended disbelief and did my best, feathering the brakes and trying not to have a panic attack. Climbing up a flooded road while bouncing over potholes was horrifying as well.



Despite my best efforts I found this type of cycling too stressful to enjoy. I couldn't see where I was going, let alone anything resembling scenery, and frankly I had nothing to prove. This was meant to be a pleasant trip and not an endurance contest. I signaled to the Co-Habitant that I wanted to turn around, and we did - making our way back through the unrelenting downpour the same way we came. Before returning home, we took a detour and stopped at a hardware store to pick up oil for the bikes - later spending a great deal of time wiping sand and debris off of them and treating the components to prevent rust - which can form alarmingly quickly in a coastal environment. My wool cycling clothing took a day to air-dry, and my shoes are still soaking wet.



Though I know others enjoy the challenge of riding in this kind of weather, this is not an experience I care to repeat unless absolutely necessary. It is one thing to cycle in the rain, but a trip along the coast in a continuous and forceful downpour - with the roads flooded, visibility poor, and the wind assaulting my face, body and bike with sandy salt water - is not something I can justify, both in terms of safety and in terms of its detrimental effect on equipment. Hopefully there will be better weather ahead... though the forecast remains ominous!

Nature's Trifecta

Monday, August 29th - -



Water + Clouds + A Setting Sun = A Beautiful Montana Sunset!

Death Valley :: Mesquite Sand Dunes

Located in central Death Valley near Stovepipe Wells, the Mesquite Sand Dunes are surrounded on all sides by mountains, they are essentially captive within a 14 square mile valley. The highest dune rises to a height of about 100 feet. The wind and shifting sands alters the scene daily. These photographs were taken over several days at different times of the day.


For perspective, there are people walking on the dune on the right side of this photo.

Patagonia Micro D 1/4 Zip Synchilla

11K on Denali




When I get really confused as to what is available on the market for clothing today I generally think back to a specific piece of gear I want to duplicate with what is available now.If nothing else I am a creature of habit. Earlier this year went looking for a upper layering shirt/sweater weight upper that I had owned twice in the past. It was a really simple mid weight pile jacket that wasn't very durable but it was very warm and breathed exceptionally well. That one I have yet to replace but I might be close. Likely one or the other is a modern, Patagonia Men's R2® Jacket or the Better Sweater? But I am open to suggestions.






The usual suspects in the same sweater/jacket






But this blog isn't about thatsweater. The sweater and how much I liked and used itgot me thinking about what was under that sweater I used and liked so much. That was an expedition weight 1/4 zip T-neck. That one I also liked a lot and didn't have in my closet any longer. Thankfully because iirc it got pretty rank in the end.



This is actually the first in a serieson current Patagonia Alpine clothing. In thelast few decades I have not been a big fan of Patagonia. But as you can see I have been in the distant past. I don't generally write about gear I don't use and like. A series on Patagonia surprises me....but my experience this winter showed me it waswell deserved.



When I finally started counting, Patagonia clothing made up a shockingly large percentage of the clothing I used in the alpine. Even more so this winter.



So to the topic at hand? That 1/4 zip expedition weight fleece? More than one Patagonia advocate tried to convince me the Capilene 3 and 4 were a good choice. I have several R1 hoodies and pullovers. I didn't want the typical grid patterns in any form. But I wasn't quite sure why. I guess it was because I didn't really like it as insulation or wind protection. R1 and the Caps are good at keeping you dry but not really what I as looking for. I guess what I really wanted was something more old school. Better wind resistance, more creature comfort if you weren't working hard (read soft next to the skin) and more warmth from the garment.



I have to admit...none of this would have ever happened if theCap 4 didn't retail for $99. The Micro D 1/4 zip retails for$59.00









Patagonia sez:



A lightweight, warm, and fast-drying u-zip microfleece that works as either insulation or an outer layer.



Key Features of the Patagonia Micro D 1/4 Zip Fleece:

• Ultrasoft, quick-dry, microdenier fleece


• Zip-through stand-up collar; u-front zip


• Clean-finished hem and cuffs


• Hip length


• Regular fit


• (8.4 oz) 238 g


• Fabric: 4.7-oz 100% microdenier polyester (85% recycled) fleece

What I say?



I don't own another piece of clothing that is as warm for the weight or as comfortable next to the skin as the Micro D. I generally wear a thin base layer under it for skiing. But nothing warmer in that application that I own. Too warm for back country skiing I think and it doesn't breath well or get rid of the moisture as fast as I would like. No question it is not an R1 layer. But then it is more wind proof and warmer I think as well. It has limitations if you want to move quicklyand know you will be sweating. I haven't bothered yet to see how it does next to the skin. Although I did use something similar in the distant past as a base layer. I might try that again knowing full well the limitations of this pile fabric. Knowing that it dry fast is a big help. The more I think of it the more places I think about using the Micro D in the mountains.



Some times it is just figuring out how to use a fabric to best effect. This is a pile that I really like but it took me most of the winter to find a place in my own "clothing system" for it to be the most effective. Now I have a hard time going skiing, on lift or side country when I don't take the Micro D. I bought the first one on a lark....choking on the Cap 4 price. I figured what the heck. "Patagonia has a stellar return policy..I can't loose here".



The other day all my ski clothes badly needed cleaning. But it was cold in the house andI was tired but needed to be working. I wanted something warm and soft to wear around the office. Jeans, flips and a Micro D made my day! Just as the Mirco D did in the last big storm cycle on the mountain. At that point I knew I'd better buy another. And at$59. it was an easy decision.

My vote is for the brighter colors!

Some Changes

With Spring so close to being here, I have been thinking about changes. We have a lot of changes going on around us and with us. As I said with our Sunday drives, we see signs of new life everywhere. We are also noting changes in our family.



My first and favorite change to share is that the princess is now standing up and well on her way to walking and making her Mom's life more interesting.



Here she is with my baby sister, Traci, looking adorable and bearing the same mildly amused at the world expression that her Mom did at that same age. Since I know her Mom better than I know the princess at this point, I'm hoping this does not mean, "just wait until later", like it would have with her Mom. If her Mom was bearing this expression it usually meant she was plotting her next covert mission that she then accomplished while I tried to do insane things like pee or take a 30 second shower without her.



Of course I am just kidding because unlike her Mom at eight months old, the princess has not yet figured out how to push the kitchen chair over to the kitchen counter where she could then somehow scale her way to the top of the fridge where the childproof capped medicine lay waiting for her to conquer! So far, Pookie seems content to pull herself up to just stand at the furniture and sing songs at the top of her lungs so I think her Mom will not be getting those paybacks we were sure would come her way after all.



BTW, all of my sisters except one are my baby sisters and both of my brothers are my baby brothers. I figure I can get away with this until they are fifty or so. This particular baby sister is only two years younger than me and if she looks younger than me, that is because she is. Just don't tell me that about my older than me by two years sister looks younger than me and it will be fine.



On to the next change. We have been planning to go back to the Outer Banks this summer and enjoy the same fun we had there last year. I can't even express how much I loved, loved, loved being there. It was my favorite summer that I think I've ever had in my life. Just magical really and exactly what I needed at the time.



Due to some of Austin's life plans and my ongoing health issues, we have decided it would be wisest for us to stay right here for now. I have cried over this life change. I am at peace that we are doing the right thing, but I still am sad about the thought of missing our time at the beach with people we have come to love.



As a part of that decision, we also decided to get this so we can more fully enjoy being here by doing lots of local Staycation things:



This is an older version of a car that Nathan had when we lived in our last house. He really enjoyed that car and he is really enjoying this car. This is also one of the reasons behind the Sunday drives that we are now taking. I didn't think I'd be excited about the fact it is a convertible, but I have now realized that I can do this:



Yes, I did this with the truck all the time. But with no top restricting me, I can take drive by shooting pictures even easier than before! So Nathan drives with the top down feeling the wind rush by and loves it and I can snap pictures the entire time and I love it. Life is good. Even when it isn't exactly what we'd pick. Changes. Just a part of what keeps our life moving along.

Rough Road

This is a really rough part of one of our favorite roads in the Jemez Mountains.

San Abino Church

Nearly all of the old southwestern towns were built around a catholic church with small shops and maybe a courthouse around the church with a park or a place for festivities in the center. Old Mesilla is built around the Basilica of San Albino church which was built in 1855 and still offers mass in both English and Spanish. Originally built out of adobe it has had to be remodeled some. There is a memorial to parishioners who have died in combat in front of the church with a white statue on it.

Gunks Routes: Alley Oop (5.7) & Dry Heaves (5.8)

(Photo: L following me up Alley Oop, pitch one. She's about to exit the roof. The Dry Heaves finish is at the next little alcove down to the left.)



Alley Oop (5.7) and Dry Heaves (5.8) sit right next to each other in the Trapps, starting from atop the same boulder pile, to the right of Balrog/Bullfrog and to the left of Cakewalk.



I have only climbed the first pitch of each. All the climbs in this area of the cliff feature easy, lackluster second pitches. Alley Oop and Dry Heaves both share a bolted anchor atop the first pitch, making it easy to quickly run up the first pitch of both climbs. You could also easily toprope Dry Heaves after leading Alley Oop.



Each climb features a low crux, then some mellower climbing to an excitingroof escape.



Alley Oop has a reputation as a climb with a difficult, problematic start. Maybe I was just feeling good when I climbed it the other day, but I thought the start featured simple, good face climbing. Usually, when I hear that a Gunks climb has a bouldery start, it means to me that the moves down low will be two grades harder than the rating suggests they should be, and that there will be inadequate pro until the early challenge is over and done with. Think of climbs like Laurel or Drunkard's Delight and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about. But Alley Oop? Not so! The moves are all there, and there's seemingly good pro. Dick Williams says "yellow Alien helpful" to protect the starting move, and when I got to the first horizontal, I thought he must be crazy. The crack seemed too shallow to accept a cam. But then lo and behold, right in front of my face, there was a spot where the yellow Alien fit like a glove. I yanked on the sucker pretty hard, and of course there's a limit to what that kind of testing will tell you, but it appeared to me that it would hold a fall.



Once you place the yellow Alien (a yellow TCU or a #2 C3 might also work), it's another couple thin moves up and right to a stance with bomber gear. From there the pitch follows an obvious corner up and then left to an orange face. Climb past a couple hollow flakes straight up to the corner under the roof. It is not necessary to place gear behind these hollow flakes; look elsewhere for pro, there's plenty. Exit left out the roof, and you're at the bolts. The roof is awkward but not too difficult. It feels pretty airy when you're in the thick of it.



Dry Heaves is a definite step up in difficulty and commitment. The route starts up a nice right-facing corner just to the left of Alley Oop. the corner leads to an overhang about 15 feet off the ground. This overhang goes out right for about eight or nine feet and then turns upward, forming a big flake against the main wall. The strenuous crux involves the underclinging traverse out this overhang to the outside corner of the flake.



There's great gear and a good stance in the corner before the crux sequence. I spent a lot of time standing and fretting in that corner. Again Williams advises that the yellow Alien will be "helpful." For some reason I never even tried to place it on this pitch. I think I know where Dick wants you to put it. About halfway out the traverse the crack under the overhang (which to that point is too small even for fingertips) suddenly widens enough to fit the cam. But there is a much wider opening a couple feet further right, almost at the end of the traverse, and I thought I could reach over there instead and slam in my big #4 Camalot. When I climbed it, I tiptoed out two or three times before I decided to go for it and place my #4. I grabbed the undercling hold, had my feet in place, and edged to the right as I reeeeeached over with the big cam in my hand... but then I dropped the freakin' thing.



I'm lucky I didn't bean my partner L in the head with it.



So then I quickly retreated to the stance, shook it all out again, and recommitted to the sequence. I had to go right away or I was never going to do it. This time I forgot all about the yellow Alien and motored through the strenuous, underclinging crux until I turned the corner of the flake. Then I slammed in a red #1 Camalot and exhaled.



My recommendation to you, dear reader, is that you don't do as I did. If I'd blown it at thecrux I would have had a long swing into the corner. You should place the yellow Alien or its equivalent halfway out the traverse. You can probably get it in before you commit to the undercling and step off the good footholds. It will greatly lessen the pendulum swing backward if you blow the next move.



At the end of the traverse you can fit anything from a #1 through a #4 Camalot. Then it's another couple thin moves up the flake to easier climbing into the final roof problem, which is just as entertaining as the final problem on Alley Oop.



It's a really nice pitch and in my opinion kind of stout for 5.8. I imagine it's good preparation for Inverted Layback (5.9) in the Nears, a climb I've really been wanting to try. Now that I've done Dry Heaves I think I might be ready.

Beaver Tree

This tree had been cut down by a beaver near the creek. You can see the marks where it chewed on it with it's long front teeth.

Wally

We chose a balloon at random to watch as it went up from the beginning as they unrolled out the balloon from it's bag onto a tarp, filled it with cold air, heated it with the propane burner, rose up into the air and then lifted off to fly away, or in this case maybe swim would be the better word. This is the first year that Wally has come to the Balloon Fiesta, so it was his first flight here. Maybe even his first flight in New Mexico. We learned from the card that was handed out by one of the crew members that he was from Wisconsin and had just been "born" this year.
Most balloons have a web site and many give out cards simular to baseball cards that have information about the balloon.

Winter Climbing in the Eastern Sierra, -13

There is indeed more to the climbing here than the very popular stuff. Perhaps more than most regions, winter climbing activity in the Eastern Sierra is veryconcentrated. On a busy weekend Chouinard Falls can have eight or more ropes hung across its width. The final weekend of “calendar winter” on Whitney’s Mountaineer’s Route can see hundreds of climbers. Not to mention, of course, the bouldering scene around Bishop. The rest of the range may see fewer alpine climbing visitors in
winter than a single weekend on Whitney.

However, there is a contingent poking around after suitable winter routes. Most classic routes have seen first winter ascents, and then very few, if any. Winter cragging has been, remarkably, limited to the fat flows in Lee Vining Canyon and a handful of more obscure falls. In general, High Sierra climbing has operated through history in hushed tones. These truths leave the contemporary winter climber feeling adventurous and exploratory.

This winter has provided excellent conditions for winter climbing. In early December, a heavy, wet storm plastered the mountains with a coat of base snow.




The Minarets in rare rimed conditions. Closed roads, but still thin snow-base made access too difficult to access. There would have been a day or two of awesome rime climbing for the motivated.


Ian McEleney and I got out around that time to take advantage of the drippy and decidedly Cascadian conditions. First, some “wet-tooling” near thin, early-season ice flows.



Ian on Luke L’s newly bolted dry-tool route “Jango Fett” (M8 or M7 or easier... I on-sighted the 2nd ascent, and I’m no M-rock star) in the Narrows of Lee Vining Canyon. A couple handfuls of newly developed dry-tool routes grace the compact granite walls of this approach-hallway. How many ice climbers have carried their spikes right past opportunities here? How many have climbed without spraying?





http://mountainproject.com/v/narrows---right/107473474








Same day, a little later. Decidedly un-Sierra-like wet snow. Contrary to popular belief, here on the high and dry side of the Sierra we are more accustomed to lighter snow.

Ian and I got out again the very next day on “the Eiger of the Sierra”. Mt. Morrison dominates a climber’s view of the range in the Mammoth Lakes area. Morrison has one of the best peak-bagger’s routes anywhere, an imposing NE face, a few radster ski lines, and a reputation for real crappy rock. I love Mount Morrison. With a plowed trailhead right at the base and the heavy plaster-coat of
snow, a scouting mission to the North Ridge seemed in order. We had ridiculously windy conditions, but otherwise found a classic, metamorphic ridge in great shape. Rumors of loose rock were not unfounded, but somewhat exaggerated. In short, this ridge is fully worth the effort for a winter climber.




Ian low on the North Ridge of Mt. Morrison.



The metamorphic experience is unique for us Sierra-spoiled
scramblers.



Given that this is primarily a gear review and discussion blog, it wouldn’t do to gloss over what experienced Sierra ridge practitioners are carrying for a day like this. Truth is, I can’t speak to exactly that. But I can tell you what Ian and I carried. With 5000 feet of vertical relief and most of that relief at least mildly technical, pack weight is crucial. A day like this reveals the truth in the
oft-quoted Exupery maxim: “Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” As you can see below, we didn’t come even close to perfection, given what percentage of our pack weight we didn’t use.



Critical gear considerations:

Boots: Silver Trangos for me, some sort of orange boots for Ian. He’s since “seen the light” and now owns a pair of Trangos. Packs: I rock a CCW Ozone, basically stock. Ian now has his own as well, with CT-approved customizations. Indeed, Ian has copied me twice already in this list. But that’s where it ends. I won’t even open Pandora’s box of lessons he’s taught me. Rope and rack: 30m, couple cams, few stoppers. Never used. Light axe each: Camp Corsa for me, Grivel something-or-other for Ian. One pair of Darts between us. Never used. Light, go-fast clothes. Crux for both of us was sealing pant/boot interface without gaiters and/or crampon straps. The now “standard” practice of an instep bungee was inadequate for the big post-holing descent. Any reader tips? I know, I know, maybe full gaiters have their place, but it’s tough to reverse the vanity...


Lightweight emergency kit. More than first aid, but not much more.



http://www.jediahporter.com//01/emergencyfirst-aid-kit.html







Higher, dancing with slivers of sun. Wind and cold
conspired to make the sun little more than a photo-enhancer.









Even higher, another bit of sun, and the Great Basin desert beyond.


Lee Vining Canyon has long been California’s ice climbing headquarters. Beta here:

http://aboutmyadventure.com/directories/shared_photos/lee_vining/72-75.htm]



Chouinard’s well-known early instructional piece shows photos of climbing and training in the drainage that shades a frozen fall bearing his name. Countless climbers, between sunny boulder sessions, big-time ski mountaineering endeavors, and 5-days-a-week in one of the Golden State’s countless industries, have learned, do learn, and will learn, their icy trade here. Busy weekends at LVC prompt a cringe from even the most dedicated climber.




Ian on Plumb Line on the Main Wall, LVC. With fat ice and fat bolts, who’s to blame folks for mobbing Lee Vining Canyon? Find a mid-week day, get there early and stay late, and crowds won’t be a problem. Show up at 10am on a holiday Saturday and all bets are off...



Avoiding the crowds and getting as much sun as you can safely get while Cali ice climbing. Late afternoon refraction on the Main Wall.





Yet another crowd-avoidance strategy: Rocking out on the
locker-tool-cams-in-a-blank-shallow-corner, pull-up-party that is “Carless Torque”.

Ian and I grabbed a day for each of us to clean up some old projects. He ticked off a scrappy mixed line right of the main flow on Chouinard Falls and then we swung leads on the mega-classic, “Heel Toe”.



Topping out pitch 1 of Heel Toe.





Ice and mixed climbing and splitter granite. Indeed folks,
this is the same batholith that underlies Tuolumne Meadows and into which Yosemite
Valley has cut. This alone is worth the price of admission.

It seems that each winter I climb with just one partner the entire season. This winter it is Ian. Ian and I both guide, climb at similar standards, have similar aspirations and have remarkably similar backgrounds. We are both new to dry-tooling and mixed climbing and have appreciated reviews and gear recommendations from this site. Perhaps more than anything else, Ian isn’t afraid to try and fail big. I too love trying and failing big. Well, the love of failing is a complicated love. But isn’t all love that way? Anyway, there’s nothing like a buddy that will invest it all (and has a lot to invest) in some harebrained mission. One day in mid January this year we set out to tackle such an endeavor. We’ll keep the details few and the photos fewer. It can be summed up thusly...



So much promise... (and no, that’s not where we were headed)





And so much punishment. (and no, we don’t recommend that amount of post-holing, especially up hill, and especially early in the day when psyche is so vulnerable. Lesson: Given the choice, post-hill downhill and toward home. Obvious, right. I wish we could claim to be “thinking outside the box”.)


Needless to say, we didn’t send that day in Rock Creek. We have, together, failed on larger endeavors with greater heartache. Individually we have come up short on even larger undertakings. We will keep trying, keep sending, and keep failing. I wish you all the same!

About the author: Jed Porter climbs, skis and lives in the Eastern Sierra of California. He works full-time, year-round as a guide there.



Check out his website
at http//www.jediahporter.com

Jeff Lowe's Metanoia

Jeff's list of accomplishments in the alpine could easily fill several books...OK...several more books. This project, like everything from Jeff's imagination should be spectacular.



More here:



http://jefflowemovie.com/





Dbl click the topo:







Here is a recent update from Mr. Lowe himself on the project, from Supertopo.com and reposted here with his permission.



I am very excited to see this project happening!





"Our plan from the beginning was to go over to Switzerland last winter and get helicopter footage of Ueli on the route, then come home and edit a teaser that would help us to raise more money to go back this winter to re-create some key scenes from my climb in the exact spots they occurred.



The weather was never good for Ueli to start up last winter, but we worked the Eiger and the surrounding peaks by helicopter and shot scenes with Ueli, Catherine and me that allowed us to cut a good teaser. Back home we also got key interviews with the Latok crew (thanks to Piton Ron!), and Malcolm Daly. We are currently raising money to go back late this coming winter, hopefully to capture Ueli on the second ascent, but definitely to do the re-creations from my climb. We still have a release date of autumn, .



We will have a major presence at the OR show in January. The OR folks feel this film, which documents my career from the 50's to the 2000's, also reflects the evolution of the outdoor industry itself, so they are helping to sponsor it. Very soon, the website, jefflowemovie.com, will have major new features and information and will be a good place to find out what's happening with the film. I will also try to do better to keep ST informed.



Ueli actually did make a start on Metanoia in October, but loose snow over compact slabs in the First Band below the Hinterstoisser Traverse caused a big fall, so he rightly came down to wait for better conditions. Understandably, Ueli does not want us to make a big deal out of his "second ascent", until he's actually done it. Considering all the elements that have to come together for a climb of Metanoia, together with Ueli's full-packed schedule of other projects more central to his own vision, we sre ready to cut versions of the story with or without a second ascent.



Werner, it's actually a bit of a stretch to claim many people have tried to repeat Metanoia, although that is what it says on the trailer. Over the years I've been asked for info on the route by about a dozen different climbers, many of them hard-core eastern European climbers for whom the sort of "suffering" required seems to be more palatable than for more pampered types. None of them reported much progress in even finding the route through the First Band. I've made certain Ueli knows it, though, and that's been proven by the fact that he got through the key pitch which is A4 followed by unprotected free climbing to the next possible belay. This pitch is directly behind where Toni Kurtz was hanging on the rope when he died, and the five pitches through the First Band were my tribute to the spirits of the Eiger Pioneers of the 1930's.



My decision to climb without bolts is one of the things that defines the Metanoia experience. It's really analogous to trying to find a bolt-free line up El Cap somewhere in the vicinity of the Nose: it ain't easy!



-Jello"

aka: Jeff Lowe

Land of the Lily

Taken along the Pigeon River in Northeast Minnesota. I love lilies, but taking a nice photograph of them is a challenge. This was shot from my kayak without looking through the camera's viewfinder. I held the camera as close to the surface of the water as possible and pressed the shutter button… “shooting blind”, so to speak. It took several tries to get a level horizon!

Childs Cup

These cups were very popular in 1950's. The little bird on the handle is a whisle and it says 'Whisle for Milk' on the bottom. This one was mine. I found them on line and they are worth about $5.00 now and sold for 39 cents orginally.

Like a Track Suit Top with Rear Pockets

So, be honest please: Do you ever wear a cycling jersey off the bike? My first time was unintentional. I was returning from a ride later than expected and had no time to change before meeting someone. So I threw on a skirt, changed my shoes and went - wiping my forehead with a napkin on the way there. I know, classy. My jersey's rear pockets still contained my keys, credit card and ID, so I didn't even need a bag. And that's when I noticed how darn convenient it is to wear these things. The person I was meeting did not seem aware of anything odd about my outfit, so why not? I began to experiment. The key is for the fit to be on the looser side, and for the colourscheme to be acceptable for "business casual." No team names or sponsor logos obviously. Muted colours. Long sleeves. A drapey fit. I own a couple of jerseys that fit the bill nicely, and so I started to sneak them into my wardrobe.




I had no idea whether anyone even noticed, until a woman in a cafe approached me last week. "Excuse me, but I really like your top. Where did you get it?" She was English, so I eagerly explained that it was a cycling jersey from England.




"You couldn't tell it was a cycling jersey?" I asked, "I feel silly wearing it, but it's so convenient."




"Oh no," she replied, "it's lovely! Like anhaute couture track suit top with rear pockets..."




Fashion designers, take note!

Notes from the Trails

I have been trying to cycle on dirt trails a couple of times a week in preparation for D2R2, and I wanted to jot down some notes while it is all still new and wonderous to me. While this is by no means meant as advice, perhaps my impressions will be useful to those who are similar in skill and level of fitness, and are considering giving this a try.



It is effortful!

Naively, I thought that my biggest hardship with cycling on dirt and gravel would be the technical aspect - dealing with roots, rocks, loose surfaces and the like. Well, ha-ha. While it's not exactly a surprise that cycling on rough terrain takes more effort than on a smooth road (think walking on sand vs on a paved sidewalk), I did not expect it to be quite this draining. Replacing only 5 miles of a 40 mile ride with off-road trails made a big difference in how tired I felt afterwards. And here I thought that I was getting fit with all that roadcycling; turns out I am a weakling.



Molehills become mountains

Directly related to the previous point, is the need to use lower gearing for everything. Benign-looking upward inclines on gravel or packed sand feel like proper hills do on pavement. Huge difference!



Just keep pedaling

This simple concept has been tremendously helpful. If a stretch of the trail seems difficult, or slippery, or overly bumpy, continuing to pedal (instead of coasting or trying to stop) is the best way to get through it. It was counter-intuitive in the beginning, but quickly became intuitive. The best way not to fall or get stuck is to quickly switch to a low enough gear and pedal through it.



Foot retention is helpfulHaving my feet snugly inside Power Grips helps when I get nervous, discouraging me from attempting to stop the bike (which is a good way to fall) and teaching me how to keep my balance.

Scenery is everything

Beautiful surroundings are a huge motivator for me. The first couple of trails I tried were sort of monotonously woodsy and led nowhere. I did not find cycling on them particularly enjoyable, because all the focus was on the terrain and there wasn't anything exciting to look at. Then we went through a different set of trails - with farms, meadows, varied stretches of woods, historical structures, fields of sunflowers, and a network of narrower paths going off in all directions - and it became an entirely different story. Suddenly I was interested and wanted to keep going despite being tired, and suddenly that narrow muddy offshoot of the path began to seem worth following just to see where it would lead. After a couple of these experiences, I will amend my earlier ambivalent comments about cycling off road with "I like it, if the scenery is worth it."



It surprised me to learn how many options there are for cycling off road close to Boston. The trails are all fairly short, but there is a great deal of variety. Though I am starting to doubt whether I am fit enough for even the easy 40 mile D2R2 route, I am enjoying this cautious exploration of a new type of cycling. It was not love at first site, but it is growing on me - particularly if meadows and old farms are involved.