Along for the Ride with the Veteran Cycle Club of Northern Ireland

Over the weekend I rode with the Veteran Cycle Club of Northern Ireland, and am still re-living the experience. To say that there were rare bikes, stunning scenery, and a charming group of riders doesn't do it justice. Put it this way: It was certainly my most memorable group ride to date. The Veteran Cycling Club is a world-wide organisation that promotes riding and conservation of vintage bicycles, and the Northern Ireland section has been around for 3 years under the leadership of Chris Sharp - a vintage bicycle collector who is known worldwide thanks to the jaw-dropping contents of his flickr account.





When Chris learned that my stay in Antrim coincided with the date of the club's monthly ride, he honoured me with an invitation and I gladly accepted. I have never done a purely social group ride like this before, and did not know what to expect - other than, of course, a fleet of vintage bicycles that Mr. Sharp and friends are known for.





And so, on a fortuitously sunny Saturday morning, I found myself outside a rural community center near the town of Limavady, where 17 riders from all over Northern Ireland gathered with their fine machines.






The bicycles did not disappoint, though after some time my head began to spin from exposure to too many rare and never-before-seen bikes at once. I am easily excitable, I need small doses!





I was so stunned by it all, that I didn't even manage to get decent shots of some of the most interesting stuff!







Highlights included an all-original Lapierre Porteur, which I even had a chance to ride very briefly. It was so strange to see a real French 650B lightweight with original components, having gotten used to contemporary tributes with Velo Orange parts!






The owner of this bicycle (also named Chris) is gradually restoring it and trying to locate a couple of original parts - not easy with French threading and 650B.





There was a fascinating Gundle Work Bike. The manufacturer was apparently the predecessor of Pashley Cycles.





The huge front carrier on this bike is built into the frame, right into the lugwork.It is meant to house a boxy basket.






Keith enjoyed riding this bike very much, despite his racing background and penchant for roadbikes. I believe there was even a sprint finish involved.





Then there was the mystery bike - notice the peculiar frame construction.






The frame is unmarked and the owner, Andy, does not know anything about its origin. He built it up beautifully.Any ideas as to what this frame could be? I seem to recall seeing pictures of German or Austrian frames in this style, but can't be sure.





Rose rode a stunningly elegant and very tall 1933 Elswick loop frame that Chris had lent her, and she honoured it with an appropriate outfit.






And of course there were plenty of vintage Roadsters. This particular one is a Rudge.





The bicycle I rode (also on loan from Chris) was a 1941 Royal Enfield Sport Roadster. I have a lot to say about this bike and will save it for another post. But let me assure you that it is not as innocent as it looks - and don't let the rod brakes fool you either!






This seemingly normal-looking Humber is pretty unusual as well if you look closely: It has twin fork blades! Presumably, this was done as an experimental suspension fork, to dampen vibrations from bad roads.





There was more, much more - in particular the stunning details and the rarely seen components on the many pre-1940s bikes in attendance. But to list them all would risk turning this into a catalogue.





And so I suggest visiting Northern Ireland instead and taking part one of these rides yourself, naturally!





We set off around noon and pedaled along a route that was both beautiful and suitable for the sorts of bikes we were riding. There were a couple of hills, but vintage roadsters are not as ill-equipped for them as some think. Once we got going, our procession somehow naturally arranged itself into a fairly well-organised double paceline, and we would fall into single file when traffic called for it. Riding in a group like this really helped me become acclimated to the left-handed flow of traffic. As I followed the group on turns, it became more and more intuitive.






Let me tell you though... Riding bicycles on loan from Chris Sharp is not without its consequences. By the end of the day both Rose and I were referring to the bikes we were riding as "my bike." Chris almost began to get nervous, reminding us gently that we would be returning them after the ride. Thankfully, that is the only problem anyone in the group had with their bikes all day. All the bicycles present were impeccably well maintained by their owners!





The scenery we passed was out of this world beautiful. With green jagged hills ever present in the distance, we rode along the river Roe and to Lough Foyle - the body of water that separates the western part of Northern Ireland from County Donegal in the Republic of Ireland.





But the truly special thing about this ride was its destination. Around the halfway point of the ride, our group stopped for tea and pancakes in a traditional thatched Irish cottage. This cottage is privately owned, but by some behind-the-schenes magic they opened it up to us.







This cottage has remained unchanged through the centuries, which is a rarity nowadays. There was no heat or electricity, and so water was boiled on the open fire.





The fire mesmerised everyone with its glow and for some time we all just sat there, content to be warmed by it. It is amazing how quickly a fire can warm up the interior of a small house. We were all thankful, as the outside temperature was quite brutal.







Also as if by magic (my God, I can only imagine how much work went into planning this behind the scenes...), a gorgeous and delicate tea service awaited us inside the cottage.






Delicious pancakes with butter were served to the hungry riders.





The supply of both pancakes and hot tea seemed endless. It was not to be believed.





With all our bicycles lined up outside the thatched cottage, it was quite a sight and everyone around got a kick out of it. Even in rural parts of Northern Ireland vintage roadsters are a very rare sight nowadays - let alone a fleet of them, outside a thatched cottage.





It almost felt as if a festival was underway - which hopefully made it worth it for Michael to come all the way from Belfast to join the ride!





On the return route, we stopped by a couple more scenic spots and photographed the heck out of each other and our bikes in the afternoon sunshine. Rose and Andy were particularly picturesque in their period-appropriate garments.






I had considered dressing up, but the morning was such a freezing one that my body just said "no" and I wore about 20 layers of wool instead.






Once we were back from the ride, there was a great deal of trying out each other's bikes and discussing bikes, as well as discussing why and how we collect vintage bicycles. At this point, I am pretty sure my conversational skills had deteriorated to an incoherent babble as my eyes darted from headlamp to chaincase to porteur rack, to the beautiful green hills and baby lambs that surrounded us, unable to process it all as real.





By the time it was over, I felt drunk on tea, bikes, scenery, thatched cottages, and conversation. This was not a typical club ride, and not a typical club. It was not even a typical collector's society, compared to the others I've encountered. I do not know what to make of it, other than to say that I enjoyed it and would love to take part in more rides like this in future. Maybe it's time to consider a VCC membership? Thank you Chris, Susan, Keith, and everyone else I encountered for making me feel welcome. More pictures from the ride here and also from Chris Sharp over here.

Cycling Fever?

I had this question when I first began doing strenuous rides and recently someone asked me the same thing: Is it normal to run a fever after cycling?



The short answer is: Yes. It happens to some people. Not to all, but to some. I am one of them, and I now know a few others who experience this with regularity - always have. The evening after a strenuous ride, I will often run a fever and might even develop a sore throat. While it's happening it can feel very much like the flu. But the next morning all symptoms will be gone, so it is not a case of actually getting sick.



My understanding is that this is a normal reaction that some people simply have to certain types of exertion. It may have to do with how our bodies engage in muscle repair. Or it may have to do with circulation issues. No one seems certain, but it does happen.



Regardless of how or why it happens, I have noticed there are things I can do to alleviate it. For instance: takinga hot shower or bath after a ride, takingan NSAID oracetaminophen concoction, eatingwarm "comfort food" such as soup or scrambled eggs, drinking lots of fluids, and tryingto get as much physical rest as possible.Basically treating it like the flu works for me. It dulls the symptoms while they are happening, so that I can still be productive with the rest of my evening. And the next day I feel good as new - only the muscle soreness remains.



If you experience fever or flu-like symptoms after strenuous cycling, how do you deal with it?

Clearing Above the Mist

Washington locals already know, but for those of you "out-of-towners" the month of July has been unusually stormy. Right now there is 100' visibility in Paradise (elev. 5400'). This has hampered many climbers on approaches and backcountry skiers with navigating. Luckily, even with all the poor forecasts, the upper mountain has stayed clear and relatively calm.

Climbers have been out gettin' it done. The storms below offered amazing sunrises and sunsets. Both standard routes (Emmons/Winthrop and Disappointment Cleaver) are still in great shape - as well as most non-standard routes. Climbers utilizing both the public shelter and the bathrooms at high camps should remember that these facilities are for them; please keep them clean. Do not leave trash, any food (even unopened food), or equipment behind - "leave no trace."

The photo above and right is from the shoulder of the Emmons Glacier earlier this week. These great conditions won't last for long! Hope to see you on the mountain.

Watering

This is Tuffee helping me water the horses.

Bells Are Ringing, Car Doors Flinging... Holiday Time in the City

Just as I start to think of myself as a seasoned transportation cyclist, something happens to throw me off my game. Yesterday I had one of the most stressful rides ever. It was a 10 mile route out to the suburbs that passed through several town centers. Despite it being the middle of a work day, traffic was unbelievable and I kept trying to figure out what was going on. Then it hit me (almost literally - as two car doors swung open simultaneously directly in front of me and a pedestrian jumped into my out-of-the-doorzone line of travel at the exact same moment): It's holiday shopping time and people are on their lunch breaks.



Don't get me wrong: I am glad to see so many shoppers patronising establishments in their local town centers instead of going to the mall or shopping online. I've heard campaigns on the radio promoting local holiday shopping, and I am certain that I am seeing more of this trend now than in previous years. The lively community feeling seems to be returning to places where it had been absent for years; it's fantastic. But assuming that most of the holiday shoppers are indeed local (why else would they visit tiny stores selling things like bespoke stationery, knitting yarn, baby clothing, and jewelry crafted by women who teach at the local arts center?) it is ironic that they choose to drive. Parking alone must eat up a good portion of their lunch hour, which probably explains why they run in and out of the shops like mad, swing open their car doors without looking, then shout in irritation at cyclists like me merely for being there and almost getting killed by them. They would probably be happier if they walked, as would the rest of us. I know that some town centers have considered banning parking or car traffic during peak shopping times, but there is resistance from business owners - who believe this will deprive them of customers.



Anyhow, I write this not so much to complain, as to warn those who are new to cycling during the holiday rush: Be careful out there and take alternative routes if possible. After almost getting doored for the nth time, finally switching to a trail for the last portion of my return trip was a welcome relief. Peace and quiet and dirt and gravel and no swinging car doors: I'll have that on the rocks, please. And I'll walk or ride to do my holiday shopping.

Adirondack Crack Attack, Day One: Poke-O Moonshine Cliff

Back to the 'Dacks.



Rogers Rock in July whetted my appetite for more climbing in the huge Adirondack park. Adrian too was eager to get out there. We thought about doing an ultra-long one day strike on the region in August, but the prospect of so much driving to and from NYC in one day ultimately turned off the both of us. Instead we resolved to find a weekend in the autumn in which we could get in two days of climbing up there.



Somehow when I mentioned the plan to my wife her head did not explode. I told her that I might try to disappear for two days of climbing and she calmly responded that early September would probably be my best chance to go, given her busy work schedule later in the fall.



And so we found ourselves on a climbing road trip. As we left the city I almost couldn't believe this was happening. At times it had seemed events would conspire to derail our plans, but in the end neither tropical storm damage nor my cat's visit to the animal emergency room (she swallowed a sewing needle) got in the way. This was too easy. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop; there's no way I get to be this lucky. I'm going to pay for this trip at a later date, of that I am certain!



As the magical weekend approached I became more and more excited at the various possibilities. I sent annotated PDF's of various sections of the Lawyer/Haas guidebook to Adrian. I considered Poke-O Moonshine Cliff, the Spider's Web, Upper Washbowl, Pitchoff Chimney Cliff, Chapel Pond Slab, the King Wall... the options were seemingly endless.



Ultimately we decided to hit Poke-O on day one and Upper Washbowl on day two. I knew we'd get just a taste of Poke-O (an enormous cliff) in one day, but I wanted to experience more than one place. I figured we'd do a few long classics there and then maybe if we were speedy the next day we could do most of the good lines on the Upper Washbowl. I didn't realize until later that by choosing these two destinations we had set ourselves up for a tour of the routes of John Turner, a visionary climber who was active in the late fifties and early sixties and who is famous for his sandbagged moderate vertical crack climbs all over the Northeast.



When we arrived at Poke-O there were two other cars in the lot at the defunct state campground. As we should have expected, we found both of these groups of climbers at the base of our first route (and first Turner climb of the weekend). This was, of course, Gamesmanship (5.8+), the most popular climb at Poke-O. Fortunately, the first party was already moving fast up pitch one and the second party had decided to do the neighboring single-pitch climb The Sting (5.8) while they waited. So, technically, Gamesmanship was actually open, or at least we deemed it so. The leader of the second party seemed to think he had the right to reserve his spot in line for Gamesmanship while he was climbing a different route! Adrian and I both thought that was utter nonsense, but I wondered aloud to Adrian whether we'd create a scene if we went ahead of them and hopped on Gamesmanship. Adrian solved this by loudly announcing our intention to start climbing. No one dared try to stop us so we were in business. It turned out we were much faster than the party we leapfrogged, anyway, so it was all for the best. I have no regrets.





(Photo: Pitch one of Gamesmanship (5.8+). The pink rope heading left is on The Sting (5.8).)



Gamesmanship is a five-pitch climb that goes all the way to the top of the cliff, but many parties skip pitch five, which is an undistinguished, poorly-protected 5.2 slab. The big attractions of the climb are the sustained 5.8+ handcrack of pitch one and the twin vertical "ski track" cracks of the 5.7 pitch four. The guidebook describes pitches two and three as being of lesser quality.



Supposedly the crux of the route comes in the first ten feet, at a pod just off the ground. I knew as soon as I looked up, however, that for me the rest of the pitch would be harder than the pod because I don't have much experience climbing vertical cracks. I remembered what a crappy climber I became on Reppy's Crack (5.8) at Cannon last year. Immediately I chickened out and offered Adrian the lead. Crack specialist that he is, he flew right up, expressing joy at the quality of the jams.



As I expected, I didn't fly right up. The pod at the bottom was definitely a little tricky, but this was a type of climbing I could deal with; little edges and a couple long reaches get it done. What I mostly remember about the rest of the pitch is that I thought it was great, and that I felt insecure and challenged the whole way up. I made it through without any falls or hangs, but I repeatedly expressed thanks not to be on the lead, and I tried not to be depressed at how hard I found the climbing. This was the learning experience I needed, I told myself. I'd be a better crack climber for it.





(Photo: looking down the 5.8 pitch two of Gamesmanship.)



Pitch two was my lead, and I enjoyed it. While neither as sustained nor as aesthetically pleasing as pitch one, it is still a quality pitch, with a little bit of face climbing and a little bit of vertical crack. I thought it was easy for the grade. I'm not sure where the 5.8 crux is supposed to be.





(Photo: The throwaway pitch three of Gamesmanship. Adrian is almost to the ledge where he'll head right to a tree.)



Adrian dispatched the easy 5.4 pitch three in no time. The pitch exists only to get you through the broken dike rock and right to the base of the obvious cracks ascended by the 5.7+ pitch four. This fourth pitch was my lead, and it looked gorgeous from below. I found it fun to lead, but in my opinion the great cracks don't go on quite long enough. Soon you reach lower-angled rock where you have to climb past a couple dirty bushes up a corner to the belay.





(Photo: A butt shot of me leading the 5.7+ pitch four of Gamesmanship.)



Actually I realize in retrospect that this pitch was a lost opportunity. It follows a pair of cracks, the left one a perfect vertical handcrack, the right one more featured. I found it easy enough to climb it by mostly holding the right edge of the left handcrack and using features in the crack on the right. In other words, I didn't do much jamming. I should have forced myself to do more. It would have been good for me, and more secure besides.



After we rapped to the ground we found The Sting (5.8) open, and since it was Adrian's turn to lead he jumped right on it. The first few moves follow the crux of Gamesmanship through the pod, then a thin traverse left leads to another long vertical handcrack. This is another great pitch, certainly the equal of its neighbor to the right. It is also quite a bit easier. Or at least, I thought so. The pod and thin face climbing left are just the sort of climbing I like, so I didn't worry there. And the jamming is much less continuous than on Gamesmanship. I got to the top of this pitch wishing I'd led it.



After The Sting we wanted another multi-pitch climb so we took a look at Bloody Mary (5.9+). And once we looked at it we had to climb it. It is truly impressive, heading up an imposing, steep corner. The second pitch looked strenuous but, to me, it seemed not that bad. I liked the looks of the steep layback flake and the section above, which stemmed between two corners, seemed doable. It wasn't a jamcrack so I thought "why not?" Still, I was intimidated by the climb's reputation as a Turner testpiece, which stood as the hardest climb in the 'Dacks for more than a decade. Eventually I decided to be content with leading the 5.6 pitch one, which turned out to be a nothing pitch to get you to the base of the crux corner.





(Photo: Adrian about to attack pitch two of Bloody Mary (5.9+).)



As Adrian set off on pitch two I was kicking myself for not taking the lead. But then it started looking pretty hard as Adrian came around the first layback crack and then entered the stemming portion between the two cracks. As Adrian got to the part of the pitch where the left crack ends and the guidebook mysteriously suggests an "unlikely" move onto the face, he was suddenly airborne. Unsure if he was to step left or continue just a bit further upward, he'd chosen to head up and slipped out of the crack.



Adrian was unharmed in the fall but he wasn't sure how to continue. I read him the entry in the guidebook, which seemed to suggest going further up the face to the left, but it also mentioned an anchor on this left wall that neither of us could see. The topo seemed to indicate that the pitch went up right, not left, into the tiered overhang above, but the description said nothing about this.





(Photo: Pitch two of Bloody Mary (5.9+).)



Suddenly Adrian spotted a bolted anchor to the left and headed for it. By the time he got there I realized this was a mistake. The bolted anchor was for the neighboring line to the left. But Adrian was already there, so he put me on belay and up I went.



I found the climbing strenuous but not mysterious, at least at first. I made it up the layback crack through an overhang, thinking it resembled Roseland in the Gunks. Then the stemming began, and this was heady. I wasn't sure how I'd feel leading this. It was mostly opposition keeping me on; there were few real footholds on either side. As I approached the point where Adrian popped out I tried to suss out the next part of the pitch. I was sure now that we were supposed to have headed up into the weakness in the overhang. I thought I could now spot some fixed crappy anchor up in there on the left. I wondered if the climbing up the face to the overhang would be easier, or harder, than what I'd been doing?





(Photo: Throwing in a chicken wing in order to get a rest on Bloody Mary (5.9+).)



Then, unexpectedly, I popped out, just below the point where Adrian had popped out. Screw it, I thought, I'm not leading the rest of this. We'll come back some other time and do it right. I headed left to the bolts and we rapped off.



It wasn't time to end the day, and I felt I still hadn't challenged myself, so I decided to try a slightly harder lead. P.T. Pillar (5.8+) seemed like a nice choice. It is a single-pitch climb up a corner. The guidebook contends it is often unfairly overlooked. The "P.T." stands for Positive Thinking, which is a popular ice climb in the winter, just to the left.



The climb ascends the left side of the pillar, at a crack in the back, against the main wall of the cliff. I resolved to jam, jam, and jam to the top. But it didn't really work out. If I faced to the right it seemed impossibly overhanging. If I faced the smooth back wall there were few holds. The crack seemed too wide most of the time for jams. I ended up worrying my way up the route, making frequent layback moves with insecure feet. Strenuous roof climbing got me past a big death block wedged in the crack about one third of the the way up. Continuing, I jammed my feet in the vertical corner crack whenever I could, but it was very awkward. A little more than halfway up I stopped and took a hang on a cam. Then I fell trying to get back in the crack. Then I finally powered through the rest of the pitch.





(Photo: Adrian cruising up P.T. Pillar (5.8+), just below the wedged death block.)



I had Adrian lower me from the fixed anchor so I could belay him from the ground. He proceeded to cruise up the freaking thing. He turned to the right and put his back on the smooth wall, often pinning a bent left leg with dropped knee behind him.



He made it look so easy I wanted to kill him.



Near the top, where I had been pumped and feeling like shit on the lead, grunting through the last few moves, Adrian found a no-hands rest and chilled there a while, sorting gear. Grrrrr.



When Adrian came down he said "I climbed it like a chimney. When you have a smooth wall like that it's usually a good idea to put your back on it."



Okay, noted. Why didn't he tell me that before? I know I say I don't want beta, but any idiot can tell I don't really mean it...



I couldn't wait to get out of there and get a drink. After fighting with vertical cracks all day I was worn out.



I loved Poke-O. It's a big cliff with tons of great stuff we didn't even see. My day there mainly demonstrated to me that I have so much to learn. And that if I'm going to get the schooling I need I have to get out of the Gunks more often.



Coming soon! More Turner classics at Upper Washbowl Cliff: Hesitation (5.8) & Partition (5.9-), plus the Weissner Route (5.6).

Sojourn at Green River

By now, you probably know that I was planning a visit to GeneaMecca - the ultimate destination for any genealogist. I had spent an hour or two, almost every night since leaving Indiana on May 2nd, reviewing the information I had on my ancestors. But that just wasn't enough time to develop a research plan. The library at Green River was rather small but very nice and the ladies that worked there were terrific. Much of my time was spent at the library during my five-day stay at Green River. There wasn't a lot to do in the immediate area of Green River, but the days were beautiful and it was tempting to venture out to Arches, Moab, and Canyonlands.



In addition to working on the ancestor summaries I was able to get a few blog posts written and scheduled. What I was trying to accomplish with the ancestor summaries was to identify the weak links in each line. I reviewed the information I had in my Legacy database as well as the files and documents I have scanned that haven't been entered in Legacy yet. Yes, there is a lot of data entry to be done and it would have made this process much simpler if all the data was in Legacy. Someday. Maybe. It will get done!



At any rate, I was able to make some headway on that task as well as identifying some of the “dead-end” lines. You have to remember that it has been nearly two years since I've really done anything with my genealogy research. I was surprised to learn that I had documentation for relationships for the entire first five generations! In the sixth generation there are two sets of 3rd great grandparents for whom I don't have names plus two 3rd great grandmothers whose names I don't know, so I'm “missing” 6 of the 32 great-great-great grandparents. For the other 26 of the 32, I have documentation that firmly links them to their children. It has been an interesting and enlightening task.



Beyond the sixth generation, there are definitely some “weak links” in the connections between generations. But there are a few lines that I've traced back to the immigrant ancestor and have the documentation for each generation. Others are mostly wishful thinking!



It wasn't all work and no play during the five days at Green River. I did manage to get out a bit. No major hikes, but I did do a little walking. The legs seem to be doing quite well with the medication I'm taking as long as I don't overdo it. Hopefully they will continue to get stronger.





The road leading up to Canyonlands National Park.



At the top of the plateau, looking down on the highway. I didn't go much further, in fact I didn't even get into Canyonlands. Last years visit didn't do much for me and I had only a few hours of daylight left on this day (May 15th). The best thing about my visit there last year was the sunset at Horsethief Campground and seeing my new friend Hunter again.





Desiring to see a little more “green” in the landscape I headed back down the mountain and toward Moab. Turning off on Utah highway 128 on the north edge of Moab, I followed the highway which followed the Colorado River much of the way back to I-70.





The La Sal Mountains in the distance with the Colorado River in the foreground. It was a wonderful drive. All photographs were taken on May 15th.