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.

Leaning Tree

Here's a discovery from one of our recent fall color outings... I'm always on the lookout for interesting and uniquely shaped trees with the idea in mind of photographing them silhouetted against the night sky. I think this one could work quite well in that respect. I got lucky with the clouds in this shot, as I spotted the tree while driving down a Cook County backroad and only had a few moments to stop and photograph it. This tree is still living, as it did have a few leaves on it, but I don't think it's going to live very much longer. It seems to be on its way out :-(