Gunks Routes: Phoebe (5.10b)

(Image taken by Anthony Baraff; I swiped it from mountainproject.com.)

I tried Phoebe the other day on top-rope and I have to say it is a nice little climb. It made Gunks 5.10b seem like a realistic possibility for the future, although I can't say I got the thing clean. My partner L. was able to do it clean on top-rope on her second try. I could do all the moves but I wasn't able to put it together without a hang. Maybe next time. Probably. Definitely.

The climb has two cruxes, one low, one high. The low one requires a right foot high-step while your left hand is pulling down on a mediocre crimp and your right is on a mediocre crimpy sidepull. The kid climber in the photo above is above the low crux; her body is hiding the bolt in the middle of the face.

The high crux comes after you move past the bolt to the tiny overhang above. You have to gently move right on poor, smeary feet and then step up to grab the undercling hold in the next small overhang. Then it's all pretty straightforward to the top.

I would like to say that I'd consider leading Phoebe one day after working the moves a bit more... but I don't think it'll ever happen as I don't see how you protect the upper crux. You could definitely get a cam in the undercling right AFTER the crux, but if you blew it on the smeary feet with only the bolt clipped beneath you, you'd almost certainly hit the block at the base.

So I think it will always remain a top-rope climb for me but I found it surprisingly enjoyable. it is certainly worth doing after a warm-up on the wonderful Ken's Crack (5.7). The setup only takes a few minutes; there is a wedged block at the top around which you can thread a cordalette; I also placed two cams in nearby cracks for a three-piece anchor. Next time I'd like to go back and try Charie (5.10a) and Fitschen's Folly (5.8R), both of which are easily set up using a couple of trees at the top of Charie, just a few feet to the right of Phoebe.

Kayaking Kachemak Bay

The bright early morning that had looked promising with the sunrise quickly faded when the dark clouds appeared in its place. It has been an unusually cold and wet summer throughout Kachemak Bay and although a day with pretty blue skies would have been quite nice, we would be happy if if just didn't rain! Because, on this day (Saturday August 14th) we were going on a Sea Kayaking Tour.

It was a short walk from the campground to the Marina where we were to catch the Water Taxi out to Cozy Cove on Little Tutka Bay where our guides (and owners of the resort) Rick and Dorle would show us around the area.

The skies to the northeast of the Marina looked threatening.
While to the southeast, where we were headed, it was a little brighter, but it was still cloudy.
The Blackfish and its owner, Dave, would take us across the bay and out to the island.
The Marina area is sheltered from the wind and the water looked calm as we pulled away from the dock. But looks can be deceiving. There were four passengers (Sue, Fred, Me and another girl) and we each took a seat on large coolers in the open area of the front of the boat. Almost immediately after leaving the protected marina, the seas turned rough, as did the ride. We toughed it out until water from the increasingly high waves began to drench us. It was then that the “captain” yelled out from his enclosed cabin that he couldn't guarantee that we wouldn't get wetter and advised us to sit in the cabin with him, which we gladly did. I'm sure he got a laugh or two out of it. It was a bumpy ride the rest of the way but at least we weren't getting soaked any more.

The first order of business (after introductions and a potty break) was to get suited up in our rain pants, rubber boots, life jacket, and kayak skirt. Not pretty, but it gets the job done! The Kayak skirt actually gets pulled up a few inches over the bottom of the life jacket. Fred snapped this picture of me with Rick who is one of the owners and who was to be my paddling partner for the day.

The first kayak being carried down to the shore.
I don't remember what this sea creature was called. They pulled it out of the water to show it to us.

The top side of the same sea creature. Slimy and icky.
The underside of a Sea Star. The small “hairs” help it to cling to rocks.
Sea Stars of various colors – the color of a Sea Star is determined by what it eats.
Barnacles and other little creatures attached to the side of the rocks.
As we paddled our kayaks around the bay, Rick and Dorle gathered “stuff” from the water that would be used to make our lunch of Beach Soup. I didn't get any photos of the kelp and other things they pulled out because I was in the front of the Kayak with Rick and it's a little difficult to take pictures when the subject is behind you! However, Sue got a couple of nice shots.

Dorle is giving Rick some of the ingredients for the Beach Soup.
Rick is explaining what is going into the pot.
Lunchtime! Not being overly fond of seafood of any kind, I was more than a little skeptical about the Beach Soup. But it was surprisingly good – or else I was very hungry! Dorle is of German descent and her father was a baker. She picked up on some of that expertise because her homemade bread was delicious.

The little group of kayakers. Sue and Fred on the left, Me and Rick in the middle, Maggie and Tom on the right. Their son, Thomas, was in the kayak with Dorle who was taking the picture.

We stayed fairly close to shore most of the time to try to avoid the wind and rough seas out in the open water. However, there were several times when I was paddling that I turned to Rick to see whether he was paddling or not – gusts of wind would come out of nowhere and although we were both paddling, we weren't going forwards! Thankfully the gusts didn't last long.

The tide was turning when we reached this channel (photo taken by Sue). Rick and Dorle debated for a few minutes as to whether we should go on in or not, we didn't. It was low tide and when we got to this spot and the water was running towards us. A few minutes later the water started running back the other way and quite quickly as the tide came in. The danger was that we would be able to get into the little bay but not be able to get out because the water would be running too fast. The tide rises here to the base of the trees in the background.

On our way back to the launching area we encountered high winds and waves where we needed to go around a point. Rick and Dorle decided to not chance it – they didn't want to blemish their record of never having had anyone tip over in one of their kayaks. I think we were all secretly glad that they didn't want to take that chance, the seas looked extremely rough. They called the water taxi and arranged for a pickup in a more protected area and while we waited we paddled around in the calmer waters. When the taxi arrived we found out that the wind was blowing 30-35 mph and there were six foot waves in the open water! No wonder it looked rough.

It was an incredible experience. The people we shared it with were nice. Rick and Dorle were fantastic. And the rain held off until after we had returned to the campground later that evening!

Reaching for Water

Spending lots of time on the roadbike has improved my speed and endurance more than I ever thought possible. Unfortunately, my bike handling skills are lagging so far behind that the gap is becoming almost comical.

What's causing some frustration at the moment, is that I can't drink water on the bike while in motion. Other cyclists will nonchalantly remove their water bottle from the cage without reducing speed, drink while continuing to cycle as if this were the most natural thing in the world, then replace the bottle in the cage and keep going as if it never happened. For me this maneuver is impossible to execute; I need to stop the bike in order to drink.

Prior to now this was never a problem. For the most part I cycled alone, and if I needed a drink I simply stopped the bike any time I felt like it. And the paceline rides I went on were only 20 miles, plus our stops at intersections were sufficient to sneak a quick guzzle. But now that I am going on longer rides and with groups of people, I am finding it more difficult to manage my water intake. I need to learn to drink without stopping the bike!

It's just so sad, because I've been practicing the water thing since summer, but progressing at a snail's pace. I can now grab the bottle with my left hand, but the bike jerks wildly when I attempt to yank it out of the cage. And if I do pull it out, what on earth will I do with it? Should I need to turn or stop the bike suddenly, will I be able to do it with one hand holding a bottle? Panic! Panic! Swerve! Panic! Yes, I am really that neurotic.

It doesn't help matters that I am extremely resistant to being taught. "No, really! If I could do it, so can you. Look, I'll teach you." Yeah... Suffice to say, I've never met a well-meaning cyclist whom I couldn't frustratewith my inability to learn technique. So, for now I'm stuck drinking water at stops and gazing in awe at those who can drink while cycling. Maybe some day I will read this post and laugh. Till then, I can only resume my snail's progress.

Spring Runoff

There seems to be more water in this creek at the bottom of a rocky canyon on the road where the Gillman Tunnels are than I have seen in several years. That is really good.

Aurora Avenue

Last night before going to bed, I looked at the spaceweather.com website just in case there were any reports of aurora activity. As luck would have it, an interplanetary shockwave had just arrived and was sparking aurora activity. The source of the shockwave was unknown, but researchers say it could have originated in a transition zone between high and low speed solar wind streams. The shockwave ended up generating nearly 15 hours of geomagnetic storming. I took this photo directly in front of our house at 11:30 PM. Just minutes after making this photo the clouds moved in and almost completely obscured the view of the lights. I spent the next 4 hours searching for openings in the clouds and ended up finding a few here and there.

Functionality, Comfort, Aesthetics

A couple of my recent posts have generated some engaging commentary on "form vs function" and the validity of aesthetic preoccupations in cycling. I put the phrase "form vs function" in quotation marks, because I do not view it as a dichotomy that needs to be resolved. For me, the two concepts are in a symbiotic relationship, whereby one enhances the other and is incomplete without the other. I readily acknowledge my interest in aesthetics. But I stop well short of putting aesthetic factors before practical ones, which I hope comes across clearly throughout Lovely Bicycle.



There are three basic qualities that matter to me in a bicycle, and these qualities are functionality,comfort,and aesthetics. All three are essential for me, and I could not love a bicycle if either were lacking.



To me, functionality means that a bicycle must be good at what it was designed to do. For instance, a racing bicycle is designed with the goal of winning races. It therefore must possess qualities such as the ability to gain speed quickly and extreme maneuverability. Anything in the design of a racing bicycle that detracts from its ability to win races is a functional flaw. By the same token, an urban transport bicycle is designed to serve as a viable means of transportation for the city dweller. It therefore must possess features that enable the cyclist to comfortably and conveniently travel in everyday clothing, to observe their surroundings, to securely transport their bags and packages, and to travel in the dark. Anything in the design of an urban transport bicycle that detracts from this is a functional flaw.



Because functionality is a factor of individual needs, it is subject to great variability. Just as there are different types of bicycle racers, so are there different types of urban commuters. A diplomat who wears crisp skirt-suits and freshly-polished shoes to work and has a 2-mile commute will likely require different features from a transport bike than a computer programmer who wears jeans, sweaters and sneakers and has a 12-mile commute. A bicycle's functionality can only be evaluated in the context of its intended use.



And of course, regardless of what kind of cycling a bicycle was designed for, functionality means that everything should be working properly: structurally sound frame, proper assembly, and quality components.



The notion of comfort is equally important, and equally subjective. We need to be comfortable on a bicycle in order to enjoy riding it, or even to tolerate riding it. The more comfortable we are, the more we ride, and the safer our cycling behaviour. An uncomfortable bicycle can make commuting, touring and even racing a nightmare.There are many, many factors that go into what makes a bicycle comfortable - from the geometry and material of the frame, to the positioning of the saddle and handlebars, to other, more elusive aspects.



Being comfortable on a bicycle involves, first and foremost, being pain-free. In particular, pain in the hands, knees, butt, crotch and neck are the sort one should not be experiencing while cycling, as it can cause injury.



Comfort also means that a cyclist should feel good about their ability to control and handle their bicycle: to mount and dismount, to balance, to pick up speed in the manner they want, to handle turns, to climb hills, to control descents, to make emergency stops, to carry a load, and to cycle through traffic. And while to an extent all of this certainly depends on the cyclist's skill level, it also very much depends on the bicycle. A given cyclist may be comfortable doing these things on one type of bike, but not on another. I am a firm believer in finding a bicycle that both feels good to ride, and matches your skill level and comfort zone, rather than attempting to adapt to a bicycle that does not feel right.



Finally, I believe that the aesthetics of a bicycle are no less crucial in the enjoyment of the overall cycling experience. Put simply, aesthetics is how appealing or attractive we find the bicycle to be. Do we enjoy looking at it? Does it fill us with excitement and pleasure? Do we feel compelled to touch it, to ride it? It is about an emotional response, and it is about individual definitions of beauty.



Though some are more aware of it than others, the aesthetic experience is a natural part of our everyday lives. As we move through our environments and go about our daily activities, we are always looking and always responding with some degree of emotionality - whether it is positive, negative, or some form of confusion. Almost nothing leaves us entirely indifferent, unless we do not notice it. We prefer certain colours over others, certain shapes over others, certain spaces over others, and certain faces over others. Aesthetics are not just for the frivolous or the rich; they are not something you are aware of only when looking at paintings or choosing expensive curtains. All ordinary objects and everyday experiences have aesthetic qualities, and being able to extract these qualities can bring joy and fulfillment to the way we experience life.



Needless to say, what we consider "aesthetically pleasing" is extremely subjective, probably even more so than comfort and functionality. To some extent, it has to do with our inherent sense of harmony, symmetry, and balance, as well as with the associations evoked by the given object. Suffice to say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.



The importance of functionality, comfort and aesthetics in the cycling experience extends beyond their individual roles; it is the interaction of the three that is crucial. How useful is the functionality of a bicycle that is not comfortable? How useful is the comfort of a bicycle if it is not functional? What good is a beautiful bicycle that is either uncomfortable or non-functional? And how sad it is for a bicycle to be functional and comfortable, but not excite you or make you smile?The most successful bicycle design is one where functionality, comfort, and aesthetics intersect.The graceful sweep of a loop frame is not only visually pleasing, but allows easy step-through. A handle bar bag secured to a randonneur-style front rack is not only handsome, but extremely useful on long trips. Form and function are best enjoyed as a happy couple.



In my posts on Lovely Bicycle, I do not pretend to be "everyman" or the voice of other cyclists. Far from it! I am a kooky, peculiar person with an unconventional lifestyle and profession, and I am comfortable with that. Neither do I make prescriptive statements about what kinds of bicycles other people should like or should be riding.Personally, I love bicycles that are functional, comfortable, and beautiful - and that is what I write about. You may relate, or you may not. Life is all about personal preferences.

New Year, New Rope.

So I rang up Danny at K2and said send me a rope. He says what kind of rope do you want?I said a pretty one, beyond that you can decide, you know what I do. So, a purple Rocca 10mm. Perfect. I want it to look good as I repeatly fly off the top of my project.