More Thoughts on Tandem Riding

I hoped that I'd get over my tandem fever by now, but instead I have only grown more curious. So when local tandemnist Matt O'Keefe offered to take me on an early morning ride, I was there with bells on.Matt and his wife Susi have been riding tandem for years. They have one for the city and one for sport, both of which Matt -production managerat Seven Cycles,and welder at Merlin prior to that -built himself.



A former mountain bike racer, Matt's attitude to cycling is "the less pavement, the better." When we set off, he suggested we do an unpaved loop instead of going on the road. I had no objections.



I was actually very interested in the logistics of how a tandem would work where we were going. The thing about dirt roads in the Boston suburbs, is that they are more like trails: For the most part not technical, but quite narrow - at times claustrophobically so, with a path through the woodsjust wide enough to fit a single bike. They can also be twisty.I was curious how a tandem could be wrangled around corners through some of the trickier spots.



But neither the tight turns along the narrow parts of the path nor the sharply zig-zagging boardwalks across bogs were a problem: Matt steered the long machine with precision through gravel, dirt, mud and sand, over ruts and ditches, and around tight corners. Tandems really can go anywhere! The experience from the stoker's seat was fantastic. All I had to do was pedal, and the huge bike did all this cool stuff under Matt's captaining.



In this vein, I keep mulling over the idea that tandems are a great way to expose cyclists to styles of riding they are not yet comfortable with on their own. They could be a tool not only for couples and friends of disparate abilities, but also for cycling clubs and various organised events. For instance, I can imagine a club event where experienced tandem captains offer stoker spots for tours through gorgeous but tricky terrain. Or a tandem race, with stoker positions open to cyclists who would not race on their own. Just a thought, but it could be great fun... Then again, it could turn out like this. Either way, I am in!

The Age of Ascent

Ian Elliottis a modern sport climber.

Heclips bolts, he grabs draws, he uses tricks, sticks andkneepads.





But he's no slouch.

Tenacity like a cockroach. He comes back from injuries again and again. The kind of stuff that would stop someone half his sons age.











He's known almost exclusively as Old Ian. Not sure how he got that name.



Style:Gandolf meets Harry Butler. Rocking these Arthritis support kneepads in blue, poly pro underwear in black, and red polar tech beanie by Hot Tuna.

He gets the covetedjjobrienclimbing tick.











Ian channels Bhagwan Shree Rajnessh as he works the moves on "Weapon of Choice" 27, Coolum Cave.Spooky, huh?



I somehow feel proud that the cave has such a climber as Ian, as though I gain some prestige just by association.Climbers, I have to confess to being ageist. I know, coming from me! Old people, they gamble, they take drugs, they drive like maniacs.But then there are exceptions that give us an alternative model.







I could watch it again and again:The scene where this kindly old gentleman shows a Forester load ofbumpy boyshow to do the route they've been dogging all day. And then offers to retrieve their draws.Priceless.









Grow old, stay strong.jj

Crevasse fall - Climber Injured on Kautz Glacier

Kautz Glacier, Mount Rainier

On the afternoon of Tuesday, July 1, a climber fell approximately 15 feet into a crevasse at around 11,400 feet on the Kautz Glacier of Mount Rainier while descending the Mountain. The injured climber, Mitchell Bell, was rescued from the crevasse by his four teammates. Bell had injured ribs and visible lacerations to his head and face, but he was conscious and in stable condition. A doctor in the team quickly determined that due to his known and potential injuries, Bell could not continue the descent without assistance. Two members of the party climbed down in search of help, leaving the doctor, another teammate, and the patient at the scene. Back at Camp Hazard about 1,000 feet below, they found Alpine Ascents International (AAI). Several AAI guides responded to the request for assistance and contacted the National Park Service. A plan was put in place for two AAI guides to travel to the accident scene that evening to assess the injured climber’s condition and bring with them materials for an overnight stay on the Mountain. Based on their assessment, the Incident Commander, David Gottlieb called for air-lift/hoist extraction the following morning.

Within an hour of take-off on Wednesday morning at approximately 6:45 a.m., a US Army Reserve Chinook helicopter from Fort Lewis successfully extracted the injured climber from the Kautz Glacier. The patient was transported to Madigan Hospital for further medical evaluation. He was released later that day.

You can find more in the ST and PI.

~ Monica Magari

Wild Mustard

Just don't try spreading it on any food.

Mountain travel?

One thing that became glaringly obvious to me in Chamonix was..to climb there in winter you need to ski. And notjust get by skiingbut really ski. Walk like you ski and ski like you walk kind of skiing.



I keep up on Colin's blog. Paid attention to but didn'treallyclue in on the skiing. I figured, "Chamonix...when I couldn't climb, I'd ski". How bad can it be to be me ;-)



http://colinhaley.blogspot.com/



I've spent months at a time on skis, with a pack, a bomb or even a full size grain shovel. But I haven't been into skiing for a while now.



This blog started with a totally different title. I had intended the comments to high light some of the newest gear available for BC skiing. But the truth is skiing is just another skill, like belaying or using an ice axe that anyone that really wants to climb mountains needs to know. The Europeans have known that from the beginning. Their environment demands it. Two major dangers in the mountain snow pack, avalanche and crevasses. Sure you can climb withoutskiing. But you'll never be an Alpinist.



My first real AT boots were a pair of plastic Trappeurs with a Vibram sole. Not the best sole for a decent release in a DH binding of that era. (circa 1980) My skis were 190cm Rossignol Alp 3000. Fat, wide and short for the day. Loved those skis.But not the panche or speed of the 207 SMs, just more fun generally. Only theAT binding set ups kept them from being a amazing bit ofgear. To be honest one of my reasons for the lack of excitement in skiing the last decade or so was the lack of gear that was up to the technology available.



I still hadn't seen anything to impress me forlwtmtn travel past Ned Gillete'sEpoke900s and 50mm bindings. We used that gearup to 14K on Denali for over a decade. Great for mileage...not so good on the down hill. Butstill way better than walking. Easier to carry the climbing boots than ski in them.



So after skiing for a month and then doing the high traverse off the GM and over to the north face of le Droites in my Spantiks and a pair 180cm of BD Aspects I was well aware of the limitations of my skill and my gearthat day. Embarrassing so...and imo dangerous.



I am seldom intimidated on a pair of skis or by terrain. Kinda goes with the the knucklehead idea of "water ice..how hard can it be?" That morning I came to the conclusion one could be easily killed just getting to a climb in Chamonix.It as the first time that the thought had occurred to me after all the talk and previous incidents and the heartfelt discussions. This while everyone else in the basin that morning whipped by me on AT boots and generally shorter skis. By the time I got to the faceany notion of actually climbing (it or anything else) was drained away by each patch of bare glacier ice traverse, one kick turn and each open crevasse at a time. Places most sane people would be roped up on. But no one ropes up in Chamonix for the "normal" runs. And this is a ski run commonly skied by locals or guided for the tourists. Tourists like me..



The thought of actually climbing in AT boots (which I have detested for several reasons) at that point seemed like a reasonable and much healthieroption if you didn't first end up in the bottom of a crevasse just getting there. (to be fair way fewer rescues in the Argentiere than the Vallee Blanche it that is any consolation)



I had great beta and a plan for the climb. Only the approach and decent were stopping me. When I asked one of my acquaintancestheir suggestion after having just done the route again for the umpteenth time...the only suggestion offered was "take skis up and over".



Ya, I was fooked at that point. Out of psyche, out of time and out of my league.

I have never been stopped on a climb because of my gear selection. ButI have questioned my own choice in gear and what I could have done better while on route many times. I prefer not to do that on climbs Isuspect willbe challenge enough with out extra weight on my back and some funky boots to climb in.



More to come on this subjectbut now you know why I have been looking at the AT ski blogs more closely.

Right now I headed out to go bc skiing for the day. A renewed passion.



Here is an idea of where I suspect toeventually be going. (and I'd bet thesport of climbing and skiing does as well)



http://www.wildsnow.com/4461/dynafit-tlt-5-performance-review/



http://notesfromtheneve.com//03/02/a-new-era-in-touring-boots/





Photo courtesy of Colin Haley @ http://colinhaley.blogspot.com/

Moser 2.0 - a Vintage Racing Bike with Modern Components

I have been riding my "new" Francesco Moser for a couple of weeks now and wanted to share my impressions. This is the same frame that I rode last year as a fixed gear conversion, then sold, then bought back and rebuilt as a geared roabike with modern components. Since the summer, I have been vigorously shopping around for a road/racing bike for . The Moser resurrection is an experiment to determine whether it is feasible to refurbish a vintage steel racing frame for this purpose without putting myself at a disadvantage in comparison to cyclists riding modern bikes.

The Italian frame was built in 1978 and raced in Austria throughout the 1980s.Through an interesting coincidence, I happen to know who the framebuilder was, but that is another story.The frame is lugged steel and allegedlyColumbustubing. Whether "tretubi" or something nicer I do not know; there are no decals. The lugs are pointy with elegant cutouts. Chromed fork crown, dropouts and seat stay caps.I have not been able to find this exact model in a Moser catalogue; something is always different. As I understand it, Moser frames were handmade in small batches and the framebuilders would sometimes get creative with individual frames. This could be one of those.

The current incarnation of the bicycle includes an older Campagnolo Vento wheelset. Retired by the previous owner, the wheels have got quite a few miles on them, but are in good shape.

CampagnoloRecord 9-speed drivertrain and shifters, circa 1999.

The crankset is 52/39t with 175mm crankarms. Not ideal in the long run, but at least it will allow me to try the bike. MKSStream pedals and Power Gripsas usual.

From my spare parts, the bike is fitted with an 11cmNittoTechnomic Delux stem and 42cmNittoNoodle handlebars. White Fiziktape. Cateyecomputer with a cadence reader.Just to be silly, I finished the handlebar tape with thin strips of multi-coloured electrical tape, to match the "champion" bands on the frame.

I bought a set ofCampagnoloVeloce brake calipers and used the 700Cx23mm Michelin Krylion tires that I had on another bike earlier.

The saddle is a new generationSelle AnatomicaTitanico (with cro-moly rails), on loan from the manufacturer. I will be comparing my impressions of this model to those of theprevious version.

The bicycle is a 52cm frame with a 53cm top tube (closer to 52.5cm). Right now it is set up with an 11cm stem, handlebars 1cm below the saddle, and the saddle positioned to emulate the seat tube angle with no setback. The positioning feels great, but would probably feel even better with the handlebars a bit lower and the stem a bit shorter (the current stem cannot be lowered, because there is no more space inside the headtube). The weight of the bike as shown here is 21lb.

One reason I decided to get this frame back instead of looking for a different one, is that I remembered it having no toe overlap. Later I began to doubt myself, as several framebuilders told me that it might be impossible to make a road/racing frame this compact with no TCO. However, now the Moseris back and I was right: no toe overlap, as in none/zilch/zero/not-even-close. How did they do it? I will try to bring this bike to a framebuilder with one of those magic machines that can measure frames precisely; hopefully that will provide some answers.

So, riding Moser2.0 so far... I think I got exceptionally lucky with how well this frame suits me. I did not fully understand or appreciate what it was until now. With the long stem, the geared drivetrain, and the lightweight moderncomponents, the bike feels as if it has been unshackled and allowed to soar. The small size feels just right, the forward positioning is exciting, and the lack of toe overlap eliminates my main source of anxiety with small frames. The bicycle feels lighter and easier to propel forward than other steel roadbikes I've tried, including modern ones. Judging by the numbers on the computer, my speed when cycling on my own is more or less identical to what it was when I was riding the Seven Axiom over the summer. I have not had a chance to go on a group ride yet, but will report on that once it happens. Acceleration feels effortless - that same "slingshot" feeling that, once experienced on a fast bike is hard to give up. The ride quality over bumps is better than I could have hoped for.

It is impossible to make a direct comparison between the Moserand theSeven, because the latter was twosizes too big for me. But for someone of my ability, the bikes feel as if they are in the same ballpark, or at least from the same planet.The revamped Moser is the first roadbike I've tried aside from the Seventhat I can see myself riding and being satisfied with.

On a critical note,Moser2.0 is a bit squirrelystarting from a stop and at very slow speeds. My bike handling skills are good enough at this point to not consider that a problem, but I wouldn't have felt comfortable riding it set up this way last year. Also, the bottom bracket is so low that with the 175mm cranks there is pedal strike unless I am very careful to keep the inside pedal raised on turns. Can't decide whether this means that replacing the cranks is a priority (trade, anyone?), or whether it is an opportunity to improve my technique.

Aside from this, there is the question of whether it is a good idea to ride a well used, retired racing frame with well-used, retired 10-year-old components and wheels if I mean to ride strenuously and possibly competitively. While the Moserframe is photogenic from a distance, it is in rough shape: scrapes on the tubes, missing paint, rust on the chrome. There is also a slight bulge at the rear of the headtube that, as I understand it, happened during the manufacturing process (the frame has been checked for integrity and shows no structural problems).If I decide that I like the bike and don't need a new one, it might still be wise to replace the components with less worn ones and have the frame repainted. Or start from scratch and get a framebuilder to replicate the geometry and tubing. It's hard to say, and for now I am just excited by how great Moser2.0feels compared to almost every single new bike I have considered buying so far.

Knowing thatsome readers are interested in the outcome of thisexperiment, I want to note that Idon't think it's as simple as buying any old vintage racing frame and putting modern components on it. But I do think I got lucky and ended up with something pretty cool that I would like to investigate further - with a big ThankYou to all those who pushed me in this direction.

Thoughts of Spring

Even with the two weeks of cold, nasty winds we have been having my thoughts have been turning to spring. The days are longer and the birds have started singing as they look for mates. Since we finished the sunroom on the back of the house I decided to try some summer bulbs in pots. I put in a bleeding heart that hasn't come up yet, and a couple of lilies that are about 3 inches now, and some Dutch Iris that are the small grass-like blades that you can just barely see in the pots. I brought in a couple of pots of nasturtiums and one of allisum last spring. They have done better than I expected if not a lot of blooms. The bright orange and yellow ones were like reminders of things to come even if there weren't many.

Stage 03

The garden in August just after the replacement of the plastic tub with a ceramic container.

Still Fighting With 5.9+: Jean (again)

(Photo: Trying to get psyched beneath the crux roof on Jean (5.9+), back in August.)



In my last post I wrote about my unexpected triumph over my first trad 5.10 lead, Beatle Brow Bulge. This was a great milestone for me. My onsight success climbing this soft 5.10 also made me wonder if the old rumor might actually be true:



Is 5.9+ in the Gunks harder than 5.10-?



Earlier that same day I found a reason to believe the rumor. The lesson came courtesy of my second attempt at Jean.



Back in August I'd attempted to lead Jean, but I hadn't liked the pro for the crux roof and I'd bailed without attempting to lead over the ceiling. I'd wanted a piece at the lip or above the roof but the best pro I'd been able to get was under the roof and to the right. I felt like a fall from just over the roof would result in a sideways landing onto the slab below the overhang, which would quite likely result in injury.



After giving up on the lead I'd tried the crux on toprope and found it to be not that difficult. Above the roof are a couple bad crimpers but then you get a great jug. I started to think that blowing it might not be so bad after all, because if you fell it would happen at those first couple of poor holds, before pulling over the roof and not too far from your gear.



I resolved to go back before the season ended to get redemption and conquer Jean.



Fast forward to November. With the end of the season coming quickly I figured if I was going to exorcise my Jean demons I had better get around to it soon.



But my memories from August were fading and I wondered if I'd really be any happier with the gear this time around. I decided to start a thread on Gunks.com asking about the appropriate gear for Jean. I'd read that there used to be a ball nut fixed right at the spot where you pull over the roof. I know nothing of ball nuts, but I thought maybe I could place one there myself, so I asked the wise climbers of Gunks.com which ball nut I should buy.



The consensus seemed to be that the cam off to the right is good enough, and that I should forget about the ball nut placement.



Armed with this information I felt somewhat reassured, but only somewhat. When our climbing day arrived I knew that I had to attack Jean right away or I was going to lose my nerve, so when we got to the Trapps parking lot I told Adrian that I wanted it to be our first climb of the day. We found it open and I went right at it.





(Photo: Here we go again. I'm hanging instead of trying the crux on Jean, this time in November.)



I felt strong as I got started. There is a cruxy little 5.8-ish move about halfway up that gets you established in the shallow corner system that leads to the roof. The pro for this move is totally solid, and while the move has pretty good hands, the feet are smeary. In August this move caused me much hesitation but this time, in November, I committed right away.



So far so good.



Then I got up to the pocket right under the roof and placed the key cam out right without too much strain. With this bomber pro in place, I should have been ready for the crux.



Determined to send, I reached up to the shitty crimper with my left hand...



and I couldn't make myself go for it.



Again.



The crimper felt so lousy. And I still didn't like the thought of that fall.



So I downclimbed a step and rested for a minute without weighting the rope. I still wanted this redpoint, in the worst way. I gathered my courage and tried again.



Such a bad hold! Was it this bad in August?



I chickened out for the second time and took a hang.



So much for that redpoint.



I must have repeated this routine once or twice more, going up, testing the hold, not liking it, retreating, and hanging.



Finally I decided to shorten the draw on my top piece of protection. I figured drag be damned, I need to reduce the potential fall. This decision gave me a certain amount of additional (and perhaps irrational) confidence. With the fall distance shortened by a foot or two I could commit to the moves and found them easier than I remembered. The bad crimper feels from below as though you'll pop right off it but once you crimp hard and commit, it isn't so bad. Shitty crimper left, shitty crimper right, then shelf, then jug and you're done. The crux is over in a few seconds.



I left Jean frustrated that I didn't get it clean. But I told myself I'd made progress. At least I finished it on lead this time. And my failure to redpoint had nothing to do with any inability to do the moves. It came down to a lack of faith caused by a combination of that crummy crimper hold and sub-optimal pro. Maybe my lack of faith was actually, in retrospect, completely justified. I wonder if that ball nut placement is necessary after all; theroof movemight bean ankle-breakerwithout it.



Even though I haven't conquered Jean, I don't thinkI need to go back to lead it again. I don't know what I would be trying to prove. And I might be risking a needless injury, unless I buy that ball nut...



IsJean a sandbag at 5.9+? I am torn. The climbing isn't easy. It isn't nearly as sustained as Beatle Brow Bulge. But those two crimps over the roof on Jean are less positive than any of the holds on Beatle Brow Bulge. Jean may require a little more technique, and a cooler head.

Rivendell Sam Hillborne: 2 Year Review

It has now been nearly 2 years since I began riding my Rivendell Sam Hillborne and it seems a retrospective is overdue.Myinitial reviewof the bike was written in the Fall of after 6 months of ownership, and it was basically a celebration of what this bicycle did for me over the course of that time. I had not been able to master riding a roadbike with drop bars until I got the Sam, and so this bike opened up a whole new world to me and made me very happy. Two summers later, I am a different cyclist than I was back then, and my main roadbike is currently a racing bike with skinny tires. So while the Rivendell Sam Hillborne has not changed over the time I have owned it, my perspective has changed dramatically and it is only natural that this review will reflect that.




In its essence the Rivendell Sam Hillborne is a road-to-trail bicycle optimised to fit fat tires and to carry a good amount of weight. Smaller sized Sams are designed for 650B wheels and larger ones are designed for 700C wheels. The frames are made with cantilever brake bosses, eyelets for fenders and racks, braze-ons for two water bottle cages, a kickstand plate and a pump peg. The lugged steel frame is built with oversized tubing that is somewhere in the middle on the heavy-duty scale as far as Rivendell models go. A good way to describe this bike would be as a touring bike with off road capacity. It can also be set up as a transportation bicycle, since it can be fitted with either drop or upright handlebars. The current price for a Taiwan-built frame is $1,050 - almost half the price of most other Rivendell models. It is worth noting that "back in the day" when I got the bike, it was the pre-2TT era and this model came standard with just a single top tube. Now the larger sizes have double top tubes.







The frame geometry is relaxed(71.5° seat tube angle) and "expanded," with a 6°sloping top tube. The Rivendellian concept of an expanded frame is the exact opposite of what in standard roadbike speak is known as a compact frame. A compact frame's sloping top tube is designed to have lots of seatpost showing and the handlebars low. An expanded frame's sloping top tube is designed to have little seatpost showing and the handlebars high. Unless I am completely misunderstanding these ideas, the compact frame and the expanded frame are in fact one and the same, only the sizing is determined differently. According to the compact philosophy, the size of the bike is determined by the top tube's virtual intersection with where the seat tube would have been, had the top tube been level. According to the expanded philosophy, the size of the bike is determined by the actual seat tube length. As such, by Rivendell's standards my Sam is a 52cm frame, and it is the size they recommend for a person of my height. However, a compact geometrist would consider my frame to be more like a 56cm given how tall the headtube is and how long the top tube (57.5cm).






Have I thoroughly confused some of you? Think of it this way: Rivendell's sizing guidelines assume that the rider wants their handlebars at or above saddle height. If that's what you want, go with their sizingguidelines. But if you want a more aggressive position with handlebars below saddle height, go smaller. Given my current riding style, technically the bike I own is now too big for me to set up exactly as I would prefer (ideally I'd like a longer stem and the bars several cm lower). On the other hand, Rivendell's philosophy is what enabled me to learn how to ride with dropbars in the first place. The fit and geometry of this frame size worked well for me two years ago and I was thankful for it.




Currently my 52cm frame is fitted with a 70mm stem, a zero-setback seatpost, and bars 1cm or so below saddle height. The bike is set up with a Shimpagnolo drivetrain with a triple crankset, a 9 speed touring cassette and Veloce ergo levers. The 650B wheels were built with a dynamo hub in the front, which powers the headlight and tail light. The tires are 42mm Grand Bois Hetres. The bike is fitted with VO Zeppelin fenders, a Nitto front rack, and a large Ostrich handlebar bag. I also have a Nitto Campee rack with lowrider attachments that I use during loaded trips, but it is not part of the bike's usual setup.I use Power Grips as foot retention. This setup was arrived at gradually, but has remained stable since the middle of last summer. The complete bike weighs around 30lb, give and take depending on how it is set up.There is no toe overlap.






I am very pleased with the aesthetics and the construction quality of this bicycle. Rivendell is one of the few manufacturers that designs its own lugs instead of using commercially available lugsets, which I find really cool. You can see my close-up shots of the lugwork here. The frame is finished beautifully, with no imperfections. There is a couple of small chips in the paint after two years, but they are not noticeable unless you know where to look. I love the c. shimmery moss-green of my frame and the dark gold accents. I like the design of the headbadge and the decals. I like the fork crown design on my frame, which is slightly different from subsequent fork crowns on the same model (see the comparison here). I do not mind the6° top tube slope, though if given a choice I would prefer a level tube.




As far as weight, I do wish the bike were a bit lighter while retaining the characteristics that make it what it is - namely the fat tires, fenders, rack, handlebar bag anddynamo lighting - none of which I am willing to give up. However, I recognise that the 30lb range is a fairly typical weight for bikes of this style, built up in the same manner.










I will take a deep breath at this point and tackle the subject of speed. Over the past year, I have been test riding some racing bikes and a lightweight randonneur, and being that the Rivendell Sam Hillborne was my only basis for comparison at that point I described those bikes as "faster" than the Riv. The biggest difference I feel between the Sam Hillborne and the racier roadbikes is the acceleration: the Sam is not as quick to take off from a stop and not as quick to accelerate. All that said, I think it's important to note that those comparisons should be considered in context. The Rivendell is slower than racing bikes, because it is not a racing bike. It is a heavier, more relaxed machine, designed to perform a different function.It is reasonably fast for a touring bike.






When it comes to handling, my favourite characteristic of the Rivendell Sam Hillborne is that it is stable and intuitive. In describing test ride reports often I'll mention that such and such a bike takes getting used to before it starts to feel "normal." By contrast, the Sam Hillborne does not require getting used to; it's intuitive from the beginning and remains so. Everything feels safe, neutral and predictable. It is stable at slow speeds and it is stable at high speeds. It is stable uphill and it is stable downhill. It turns easily and does not need to be "forced" to corner. Neither does it "over-react" on turns. The wide tires on my bike further enhance the stability, as well as contribute to the cushy ride quality. Once you've ridden on 650Bx42mm tires over pothole ridden roads and dirt trails, it is difficult to forget the ride quality.




My favourite rides on the Sam Hillborne are those best described as "exploring." Unstructured, rambling, with no time constraints or ideas about optimal speed. With my camera in the handlebar bag, a book, some food, maybe a notebook, a pen and some extra clothing, the bike feels likehome away from home.





And perhaps the most definitive characteristic of the Sam Hillborne is its ability to carry weight. As I've mentioned previously, I ride this bike with a full handlebar bag and experience no adverse effects on speed or handling. The bike just does not care.





When we went on vacation last summer and did not want to bother renting a car, I carried most of our (2 weeks' worth of) thingson the Sam and it was great fun. Carrying weight on a bicycle is not merely a matter of attaching racks and strapping stuff on. Not all bikes do well under a front and/or rear load, and not all bikes have the proper clearances to carry panniers. The Sam Hillborne was designed specifically for things like this, optimised for the culture of "bike camping" that's so popular with Rivendell owners. The front end seems insensitive to properly supported weight, the chainstays are long enough for panniers without heel-strike, and the frame's tubing is robust enough to handle the weight itself. It is really a shame I do not take advantage of these characteristics more often.






In my view, the Rivendell Sam Hillborne is a good choice for loaded touring, bike camping trips, commuting, exploring-by-bike, and all around casual riding - on paved and unpaved terrain. To get the most out of this bike, I would definitely recommend lights, fat tires, fenders, a rack, the whole nine yards - it's what makes it special. If, on the other hand, you are looking for an aggressive lightweight roadbike for training rides, competitive long distance events and such, this isn't it and was not meant to be (Rivendell does make a more aggressive and paired down model that may be more up that alley).




I have tried to put together my thoughts on this bicycle in a way that is fair and well-ballanced. For anyone deciding whether a Sam Hillborne is right for them, I suggest reading my original review and this review (if you can stomach that much of my writing, that is) in sequence: They are both sincere and accurately describe my impressions of the same bike at different points in time.

The Kennedy Space Center

In-between Sebastian Inlet and Anastasia Island, I made a stop at The Kennedy Space Center, near Titusville, Florida, about 50 miles east of Orlando.

I've always been fascinated by the thought of going into space. As a sophomore in high school I remember writing an essay for English class in which I was welcomed back to Earth as the first woman to walk on the moon. Quite a stretch of the imagination for someone who couldn't “get” algebra or trigonometry and disliked science immensely. Well, it was just a work of fiction. At any rate, The Kennedy Space Center was on my list of places to see.

The entrance fee of $38 (+ tax, making it $40 and change) is a bit high, at least in my opinion, but there is a lot to see and do. I got there at 9 a.m., which was opening time, but the bus tours and the Imax Theater presentations don't start until 10 o'clock. So I wandered through the outdoor displays of the different rockets, getting a refresher course in our quest to get to the moon and beyond.

I was reading the brochure that I received when entering and saw that they had something called the “Shuttle Launch Experience” that looked interesting so I headed over that way. It only lasts about 20 minutes but I had just 15 minutes until the Imax movie started so I decided to return later.

They offer two Imax movies but due to time limitations, I was only able to view one of them – Man on the Moon. Now, I've been to Imax movies before but had never experienced one in 3-D. It was magnificent. Really. It was almost worth the price of admission just to see this movie. Talk about in-your-face reality. It just can't be described. I wish I could have seen the other one about the building of the Space Station but it wasn't showing until later in the afternoon.

After watching Man on the Moon, I returned to the Shuttle Launch Experience. The brochure promised that I'd experience the same sensations and feelings that the astronauts do when they launch into outer space. Honestly, I wasn't disappointed at all. You may not feel exactly everything as they do, but you get the sensation of 3-Gs pushing you into your seat and you feel the shaking and bumping just as they would, only not quite as severe, obviously. And once you get “into space” you get that sensation of weightlessness too. This Experience, combined with the Imax movie, really is worth the price of admission!

But that wasn't all. They have guided bus tours to three areas of the Complex (an observation gantry, the Apollo/Saturn 5 Center, and the International Space Station Center). As you go from one area to the next, they show short videos and the bus driver keeps up a rolling commentary about what you are seeing. Once you get to the area they show an 8-10 minute movie and there are displays to see. (And at each stop there is a refreshment center and souvenir shop that they encourage you to visit.) Again, due to time contraints (I had to be at Anastasia State Park before sunset and it was a hundred miles away), I cut my tour short and missed out on the International Space Station Center portion.

I highly recommend a visit to the Kennedy Space Center. However, there is no way you can see and do everything in just one day. If you are going to go I suggest making it into a two day visit, if possible. Your ticket allows for one return visit within seven days of purchase, which is nice (it has to be validated before you leave the first day though). Wish I had known that in advance, I would have gone there the afternoon that I got to Titusville instead of waiting until the next morning. Also, if you get there at opening time, go to the Shuttle Launch Experience first; it starts operating when the Center opens.

Astronaut Snoopy greets you at the entrance to the outdoor display area. Another one of those gray, gloomy days. It was actually a nice day though a little on the chilly side. The sky cleared a bit later in the day, but the clouds never went away.

The videos play as the driver takes you to another stop on the tour.

The business end of the Saturn V rocket.

The Space Capsule sitting atop the Saturn V rocket. You just can't appreciate the size of that assembly until you walk beneath it. It's huge!

As an extra bonus, which was (we were assured by the bus driver) a rare site for the average visitor, as we were heading back from the second stop, we saw them preparing to move the Space Shuttle to the launching pad for its next mission in early February.

Indian Bread

The first photo is of a horno or oven that the Pueblo Native Americans bake their oven bread in. This day I didn't get the oven bread but got the fry bread which is a dough that they work out into a circle sort of like pizza dough. Then they fry it in a cast iron kettle full of hot oil that is on a wood fire usually of mesquite wood which gives it a really good taste. Some people like to sprinkle powered sugar or put honey on it but we prefer it just plain. It's best while still hot but still good even hours later when room temperature. We bought some and ate about half of it, then saved the rest for our picnic in the mountains. We had the left over bread with a boiled egg, some canned fruit cocktail.

Positively Biketastic

When I look back at (I know it's been a while, but I needed time to take it all in!) I remember it as the year when I started to notice a lot of positive changes in the cycling world around me. Positive changes not only in the widening selection of transport bikes available in local shops and not only in the public perception of bicycling, but also in the increasing amount of rapport, cooperation and even overlap between different "camps" of bicyclists. And I think this latter point is just as important as the others. We cyclists can be tribal and divisive; we can be each other's harshest, cruelest critics. But if we insist on identifying within rigid parameters and lashing out against each other's choice of bike, attire, and riding style, how can we hope for positive changes for cyclists as a group?




When my cycling club, the Ride Studio Cafe, began to blur the lines between the randonneuring and racing cultures, I remember it felt as if a paradigm shift was taking place. They threw a big party, where cyclists of different stripes interacted with each other with a degree of enthusiasm that showed a genuine eagerness. Dynamo lighting, racks, and wool were discussed. Unexpected common interests were found. It was truly an exciting thing to be witnessing.




At this same party, I finally met Maureen Bruno Roy, a Massachusetts-based professional cyclocross racer. In her off time Mo leads a regular life, and part of that regular life involves riding her pink mixte for transportation. For me, seeing Mo so happy and casual on her city bike was an encouraging moment: I had not encountered an athlete-cyclist outside of Europe before who saw value and usefulness in such bicycles. But to Mo the value is pretty clear, and she credits her attitude to her time racing in Belgium. "There were these Dutch bikes, and I rode them to get around when I wasn't racing; it was great!"




Around the same time, a local man named Jeff Palter got himself a Brompton folding bike and began commuting on it, posting excitedlyon Twitterabout how much he enjoyed that. If you're outside New England that name might not mean anything to you, but Mr. Palter happens to be the CEO of the Northeast Velodrome and theowner of Cycle Loft -one of the biggest roadie shops around. CycleLoft is also the main sponsor ofthe Northeast Bicycle Club - the largest local racing club and the very club that offers the "infamous" paceline ridesthat so divided my readership two summers ago. Until recently, it would have been difficult to imagine anyone associated with this camp entertaining the idea of riding around on anything but a racing bike with a backpack. I was more than a little surprised when Jeff approached me about sponsorship, explaining that CycleLoft was expanding into the city bike market.




"Looks like the war is over," said a local cyclist when I shared this news with her. I guess sometimes, with all the insults flung about, it can indeed feel like a war - especially when some are described as "riding tanks" and others as being "weekend warriors." With a chuckle, I pictured an army of speeding Cervelos clashing with an army of menacingly rolling Workcycles (incidentally - a Dutch bike company founded by an American, who got his start at Fat City).




Some time in December, I was approached by Bicycling Magazine and invited to write a weekly online column about "city bikes and gear." I was initially skeptical about what they had in mind, but it seemed pretty straightforward: They wanted to expand their coverage beyond racing, to encourage people to commute by bike, introducing them to a variety of bikes and accessories for the purpose.I agreed to writethe column. It's a short-term contract and I may not be the one doing it in the long run, but I hope to give it a running start. Or rather, a re-start: Historically, such coverage is not new for Bicycling. A 1978 copyI found of the magazine includes articles such as "Choosing a Three-Speed Commuting Bike"and "Road Test: the Bickerton Folding Bicycle."These things are cyclical. Hopefully the current cycle, with its interest in transportation and city bikes, will be around for a while.




A few days ago I read a story in the New York Times about a man who, a couple of times a week, commutes from the suburbs outside New York City to his office in Manhattan on his racing bike. It's a 40 mile ride and he uses the milage for training. He does it year round, sometimes in snow. I thought it was a cool story, especially after the cyclist himself provided additional details on Velocipede Salon. Then today I read astory in Atlantic Citiesin response to it, about ordinary New Yorkers commuting. The author mentions that some readers criticised the NYT piece for "alienating [ordinary people] who might want to ride to work," but I am glad the author herself did not go that route. Instead she gave examples of some interesting New Yorkers who rideand urged cyclists to unite in promoting their shared interests.




For those of us who have been cycling in major North American cities over the past few years, it is hard not to notice that things are changing. Now more than ever, I feel there is room for everyone who loves to be on a bike to promote their style of riding without criticising others in the process. Whether 4 miles or 40, whether in a business suit or a skin suit, whether on a cheap or expensive bike, bottom line is: It's all positively biketastic. The more we understand that, the better off we will be.

Wear and Tear

I've been spending a lot of time road cycling lately, and suddenly it seems like all of my gear is falling apart at the same time: Socks are pilling to the point where they no longer look decent. Gloves are developing holes in the fingers. Baselayers are growing threadbare under the arms. A piece of the zipper broke off on my cold weather cycling jacket. And my thermal winter tights are fraying everywhere. The damage to the last two garments is particularly frustrating, because these are "big ticket" items that I was hoping would last for some time. While the jacket is a year and a half old that's still not a terribly long life span. And the tights I've only started wearing this October. It doesn't seem right for things to be wearing out at this rate. Aside from the financial aspect, I am simply too exhausted to start the search for the right gear from scratch. When it comes to cycling clothing, finding the fit and functionality that work can be a nightmare. I don't want to look for new stuff; I want the "old" stuff to last.



Are my expectations unrealistic? I would love to hear from roadcyclists what the typical life expectancy of their clothing is - jerseys, shorts, jackets, etc. If you cycle, say, 5,000 miles a year, what kind of wear and tear do you consider normal?

The meeting of Earth and Sky

Crazy cool, INCREDIBLE northern lights last night! What made the night totally unforgettable was not only the lights but the music of nature. Spring peepers and wood frogs were calling all night long and while I was shooting over a lake I could hear a barred owl calling from across the lake. It was one of the best nights I've ever spent in the woods with my camera! For the first hour of viewing, the Aurora held the form that you see in the photo above. To me it sort of resembled the funnel cloud shape of a tornado. This photo was taken at about 11:00 PM. A couple of hours later the scene was totally wild as the lights easily filled 75% of the sky and were moving much, much faster than they were when the above photo was made. The lights shown in the photo above were hardly moving at all. The variety that exists in the lights of the Aurora never ceases to amaze me!



































The last few times I've gone out shooting the Aurora I've been trying to get more creative with some of my compositions. I've been trying new locations as well as new perspectives. The above photo is one such perspective, with the lights reflecting in the lake and the top corners of the image framed by pine branches. I personally really like this composition. To me it feels like I am looking through a window out into the scene beyond.





































This was such an incredible night of photography, it's hard to imagine being able to top it. Between 1:00 and 2:00 AM the lights were some of the best I've ever seen. At the time the photos below were taken, the lights were flickering incredibly fast and it felt as though they were actually touching the tops of the trees. They were emanating from the sky directly overhead and washing down over the surrounding landscape. Indeed, the Earth felt connected to the Sky that night.