Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Ready, aim...

I came across this interesting looking leaf spot during a short walk recently.



Here is is again, on a different leaf from the same tree (a Chestnut Oak).



This is the kind of thing that we got calls for all the time at the Master Gardener Hotline, where I volunteered this past summer.

But without all the Cooperative Extension's plant books and other resources, I'm at a loss. (And this is one of those occasions where Google brings up too many choices to be useful.)

Saturday, August 27, 2011

A Most Excellent Adventure :: A Gorgeous Azure Iceberg

Friday, August 27th - - About half an hour after leaving the whales we started seeing small icebergs in the water. There was one in particular that was extremely large and Captain Steve said it was stuck on something as it had been in the same spot for several days.

It didn't look too impressive from a distance but Steve said it was worth taking a look at. He slowed the boat, went in close (very close), and cruised completely around it. The color was so intense and amazing, especially on the other side where the light was better. Incredible, actually.






And even more wondrous things were yet to be seen...

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Things Change and Stay the Same




Ride Me SLIDEWAYS
image from the tentacles of the magnificent octopus


With upon us, I would like to wish everyone a happy, healthy, safe, exciting and all around fulfilling New Year, full of cycling and all the other things you enjoy.

I've been trying to think of "resolutions" for next year pertaining to this blog, and in the process I am realising that I don't have any. This may not sound very exciting, but more than anything I would like for things to remain as they are: to ride bikes, learn more about bicycle design, overthink everything as usual, make mistakes in the process, and write about it all without getting overly self-conscious about how silly I might sound. This year I was upset and surprised when two of my favourite bicycle blogs were discontinued. But I also understand why it happened, and I can easily see how the same could happen here. For that reason I feel that it is especially important to keep things low key and not overextend myself. This is something I will try to bear in mind throughout .

Other than this, I am quite happy to keep it open-ended. I have been cycling for transportation more or less daily since the start of this blog, and over time I've become increasingly interested in roadcycling. Within these two realms there are so many possibilities for exploration, that I feel as if I've barely scratched the surface. My interest in bicycle design continues, and it's been fascinating to learn about materials and methods of construction other than the lugged steel I love. There's just... so much to it all! As new people get swept up into this obsession every day, there are also those who've been at it for decades - no less enthusiastic now than they were in the beginning. I hope that will be me in future.

I've had some requests for a New Year's cocktail like last year, and so I offer you the following:

The Slideways:. real pomegranate juice. dry champagne or white sparkling wine. gin (of course). small lime. sprig of mint. ice

In a cocktail shaker, combine ice, 1 shot of pomegranate juice, 1 shot of gin, 2 shots of champagne, and a generous squeeze of lime. Keep a tall champagne glass in the freezer to give it that frosted look. Strap the cocktail shaker to a rear rack of a fixed gear bicycle, then pedal forward and backward, rapidly changing direction. Unstrap the shaker. Remove champagne glass from freezer and pour in the contents immediately. Garnish with mint. Recline on your bicycle, side-saddle, while drinking and listening to this. Repeat as necessary.

A hat tip to Andy Arthur for his adorable illustration of my clumsy bike handling skills, and my sincere thanks to everyone I've crossed paths with via this blog in - be it virtually or in person. A Happy New Year to all!

Happy Birthday to Aric and I


I realized on my last post that it was post #999, which means my birthday post is #1,000. That is a lot of blog posts for someone who did not want to do a blog to begin with!



Today was Aric and I's birthday, and since he took his week's vacation and spent it with us, that meant we celebrated the day together. We went down to Sumter Landing during the day and ate lunch there and spent at least two hours at Barnes and Nobles looking at all the books we would love to read. We then walked around and shopped together. As usual, we enjoyed the special golf carts we ran across there.



We came back home to cool off some, and then headed back down to the latest square and had dinner at City Fire Restaurant and watched Man of Steel at the movie theater there. It was a nice, quiet day for us but the fact we were together made it a great birthday for me.






Glen Canyon and Lake Powell

From Lees Ferry it is a short drive to Glen Canyon and Lake Powell, near Page, Arizona. It seems like it would be a nice place to visit, with lots of things to do. It would be really cool to rent a house boat with a bunch of people and explore Lake Powell and the various canyons. Problem was, it was hot. Really hot. Like in the upper 90s. I know what you're thinking. For many months I've been saying that I sure would like some warmer weather. And that's true, just not quite that warm! Give me temperatures in the mid-70s and lower-80s and I'd be happy, maybe.

But, despite the heat, I decided to spend a few days at Wahweap Campground on Lake Powell a few miles north of Page. I found a site with a little shade, not that it helped all that much with the heat, but it did provide a little respite from the sun, and there was usually a light breeze that helped also. Of course, it cooled down a little after the sun went down so the nights were comfortable.

Page has a beautiful public library with free wifi, which I gratefully took advantage of during the hottest hours of the day! I was able to get blog posts written and scheduled up to the start of Jamboree though I didn't get quite as many posts written as I would have liked.

The Dam at Glen Canyon.

A small portion of Lake Powell. The cluster of boats on the far left are at Wahweap Marina.

Clouds over Lake Powell are touched by the last rays of the setting sun.

Monday, August 22, 2011

A Guilty Farewell to Vintage Roadbikes

Good Bye, BianchiEarlier this month, I parted with my remaining vintage roadbikes: a 1982 Bianchi and a 1978Francesco Moser. Both bicycles ended up going to people I know, and their futures look promising. The Moser will be built up as a geared roadbike again and ridden by a long-time local cyclist.TheBianchiwill get a make-over and may end up riding in theEroica. The bikes moved on to greener pastures, leaving me with only my Rivendell to contemplate lessons learned and a direction for the future.

Waja Track Bike, Home for Wayward CatsI've been experimenting with vintage roadbikes since last summer, which has included riding other people's bikes and also buying a few for the express purpose of playing around with them. The bicycles I've tried in this manner have included examples of American, French, Japanese, English and Italian bikes from the late 1970s and early '80s. Not an enormous sample, but a nice beginner's crash course. Somewhat to my surprise, I found that I liked every Italian bicycle I tried, whereas the mid-tier French bicycles felt the worst. The Japanese bikes were comfortable, and I could see the roots of Rivendell's philosophy in their geometry and handling. It was very interesting - but ultimately unsustainable.

Vintage Trek, Concord, MAFor one thing, even if a vintage bike is in good condition, it takes me a great deal of resources to set it up in a way I find ridable: Usually I have to change the brake levers, the handlebars, and - if I want to comfortably switch gears - the shifters. Not only does this require time and money, but it also ultimately changes the bike's character.



However, the bigger issue is that trying a modern roadbike this summer - and enjoying the benefits of its light, easy-to use components - has made me realise just how far I'd have to go to get the same level of performance out of a vintage bike. Assuming that I can find one in the correct size for me and with a sufficiently light, good quality racing frame, I would have to then put a modern wheelset and component group on it, as well as structurally alter the frame in order to make that possible - all just to determine whether the complete bike will be up to par. It does not seem like a practical endevour to me.

Francesco MoserConsidering the kind of cycling I have been gravitating toward, I would ultimately like to have three roadbikes: a fully equipped touring bike that is capable of going off road, a fixed gear bike,and a "racy" bike that is suitable for competitive cycling. The first I already have. The second I am finally working onafter a year of riding a conversion. And the third will be my next priority. I feel guilty that I don't see vintage in the equation, but practical needs trump aesthetic and historical interest. When I am older and have more time and money, I would love to collect gorgeous, historically significant vintage frames. But for now I would like to ride more, tinker less.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Dressed Up and Ready to Go

Marianne's new handlebars are now wrapped, twined and shellacked. You can see that the bars do not look quite so wide and wing-like once they have been wrapped.

The hand position is similar to a classic mountain bike position - but achieved more elegantly. I feel that I have a lot more control with these bars than I did with the drops, and now cycling in traffic on this bicycle is no longer an issue - even though I am not any more upright now than I was when I had my hands on top of the drop bars. This must mean that the fear I previously had of riding the bike in traffic had more to do with balancing and braking than with being hunched over.

From a utilitarian standpoint, the best thing about the new set-up are the brakes. The new Shimano levers have made them the best functioning brakes I have on any of my bicycles. I cycled all around town and on some trails yesterday, and the experience of riding this bike has been completely transformed for the better. I am so thankful to Open Bicycle in Somerville, Mass. for the wonderful job they did on this. They did not just replace parts, but worked with me to "troubleshoot" and design the new set-up based on the problems I was having with the old one. Those guys know what they are doing.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Pedal and Coast

Tyrone Flyer, Ulster Gliding Centre
A friend of a friend flies gliders at the Ulster Gliding Centre down the road. I was encouraged to visit. "He used to race bikes. He restores old planes. The place is amazing, you'll love it."



Terrified of flying and armed with only the vaguest notion of what gliders actually are, I nonetheless head over there one evening. The phrase "restores old [fill in the blank]" proves to be excellent bait.In honor of the occasion, I ride a 1938 Tyrone Flyer, handmade in Northern Ireland.




Ulster Gliding Centre
Astride the 75-year old machine, I race down the winding coastal road, at length turning onto a narrow lane toward the Lough Foyle. I ride past pastures, chicken coups, a thatched cottage, and a field of parked caravans, until finally a meadow comes into view - spread out along the water's edge and littered with small aircraft. From a distance the scene resembles a vegetable patch.




Bike and Glide
By the hangar, Owen waves me through, bike and all. We exchange greetings and straight away his eyes are on the bike.




Owen
Owen used to race 100 mile time trials. He was good, right up there at the top. Then he stopped. But I can see the cycling has not left him. If he sees a bike, he can't not look at the bike. Then it's my turn to look at the planes.




Hangar, Ulster Gliding Centre
A hangar is basically a garage for aircraft. This one is dome-shaped. The interior is well illuminated. There are little planes everywhere and I wander through them as if through a forest, stepping over tails and wings as if they were felled tree branches. Some planes are colourful and others are white, some fairly new and others quite old. Owen restores the old ones.




Small Vintage Plane, Ulster Gliding Centre

I ask about the materials, the paint, the provenance. Most of the machines are British or German, WWII era. We talk about plastics, and how they've changed over the years (a topic I'm familiar with from my fountain pen collecting days). Then he shows me the cloth used for wings - stretched so tautly and painted over so smoothly, I would never have guessed it was cloth.




Gliders!

The planes are so light and small, they seem toy-like. "I could take you up in one of these if you like?" I shake my head in horror, which I quickly try to disguise as a polite "I wouldn't want to impose."




Ulster Gliding Centre

So what exactly is a glider? Put simply, it is a small airplane without an engine. A non-motorised plane. Visually, gliders can be distinguished by their lack of propellers(although there are alsomotorised gliders, which do have propellers)and their unusually long wings.




Tug Planes, Ulster Gliding Centre

Because a glider does not have an engine, it cannot take off under its own power and relies on a tow-plane to bring it up to the desired height, then release it.




Ulster Gliding Centre

Once airborne, the glider uses streams of rising air (thermals) to prolong the flight, as the pilot steers it. In this manner, the glider can stay up in the air for hours and even travel cross-country. "Cross country without an engine?" I said, growing interested in the mechanics of the thing.




Ulster Gliding Centre

Long story short, I ended up in the glider. Owen - as most of the pilots there - has such a steady, reassuring manner about him, that the more we chatted the more it began to seem like a good idea - just a normal way to spend an afternoon. "There's no engine, so nothing can go wrong, you see. It's a bit like cycling really. Take your camera!" Yes, it would be like cycling.




I was feeling pretty good as I approached the glider, until another pilot - Gary - handed me a parachute. "Here, put this on." I must have turned white and begun to inch my way backward (OMG why do I need a parachute??), because Gary sort of held me in place and swiftly began to put the parachute on for me, cheerfully instructing me on its usage while gently nudging me into the glider. "There. It's like getting into the bathtub."




In fact, the thing is sort of canoe-shaped. The pilot/instructor sits behind the student/ passenger. There are duplicate controls. There is very little room, and once the top is down, you feel sealed off from the rest of the world. Once I was in it, my attitude was - If you're gonna do it, do it. Otherwise don't do it. No point being scared now.




Gary, Ulster Gliding Centre

As Owen began to rattle off a series of mysterious control-check messages into the radio, Gary grabbed the rope attached to the glider's nose and connected it to the tow-plane.




Being Towed in a Glider

This is what it looks like to be towed along the grass runway. We are taking off toward Lough Foyle.




Glider Being Tugged, Ulster Gliding Centre
Here is the rope.





Being Towed in a Glider
The take-off is quick and painless. Before I know it, we are being towed through the air.





Glider and Tug Plane, Ulster Gliding Centre
View from the ground.




Glider (I am in It), Ulster Gliding Centre
Finally, the rope is released. The tow-plane returns to the ground and the glider - well, it glides. I am in a small plane. Everything is completely silent. We are floating, coasting really. I am feeling fine. Calm, downright serene.




River Roe and Lough Foyle, Glider View
The landscape spreads out beneath. Familiar places from an unfamiliar vantage point. In that sense, it really is a bit like cycling. In an abstract sort of way.




Binevenagh, Glider View
We fly along the coast, then turn inland and head to Binevenagh Mountain. Owen explains how to work the controls to make the plane bank, turning it around. It makes sense and I give it a try. The plane turns. And there is Binevenagh, half submerged in shadow from a low cloud, half illuminated by intense sunshine. It looks quite tame from here, flattened out against the landscape. My heroic climbs and descents hardly seem like an accomplishment now.



On the very top of Binevenagh is a mysterious lake. It is up a rough gravel road and I've only made it up there once so far. The lake is eerie, prone to mists and unusual growths around its edges. When you're standing next to it, it looks as if it is about to pour off of the edge of the mountain.




Binevenagh Lake, Glider View
But what you don't see from the ground, is that the lake is distinctly heart-shaped. It is also nowhere near the edge of the mountain when viewed from an aerial perspective.




Glider, Observation Window
My camera is with me in the glider. There is a small window that slides open to stick the lens through. I've no experience composing aerial photos, and my 50mm lens is all wrong for the task. Even as I take them, I know that my pictures will look generic, uninteresting. But they are mine and I take them with the same genuine enthusiasm as anyone would.




Magilligan Point, Glider View
The sun fades gently in the silence.Over Magilligan Point, we see another glider in the distance and wave to them.Everything is beautiful. "You all right?" Owen asks. Yes! This is wonderful. "Want to try a Chandelle?" he says. "Oh. What's that?" It's a maneuver. A bit of fun. Not quite aerobatics, but almost. "All right!"



The glider does something that is part spin, part freefall and part loop. I see clouds. I am not sure which way is up. I feel pressure in my temples and my vision starts to go dark. A split second later, I am drenched in a cold sweat and hit with a wave of nausea. I sit very still and take deep breaths. "How was that?" Owen asks from the back seat."Mmm hhmm hhmm!" I reply, mouth closed, worried I will puke all over the nice glider if I try to form sentences. Point taken. No more aerobatics. As the sun sets, we descend.




"Like Getting Out of a Bathtub," Ulster Gliding Centre

On the ground, I am soaking wet - hair, clothes, everything. Weird, the physical reactions we have. I don't remember feeling scared, but my body must have decided otherwise. We have a laugh about it. Then we steer the plane down the grass runway toward its next tow.




Ulster Gliding Centre

Is gliding anything like cycling? Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the feeling of landing is similar to that of a long descent. The view can be similar too. But on a bicycle everything feels open, whereas in a glider you are closed in, closed off - a bit claustrophobic for me. Not that I don't want to do it again. But perhaps no Chandelles just yet. It could be a useful skill, knowing how to fly light aircraft.




Tyrone Flyer, Ulster Gliding Centre

Some day. But for now I get back on the Tyrone Flyer. I pedal uphill, coast downhill. That is more my style of gliding.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Big Bike, Tiny Tree



On a rare day off for us both we decided to catch up on some errands, including getting a tree. So we pedaled over to a local tree place. Now that I have this big cargo bike on loan, I toyed with the idea of a real, full sized pine. I imagined the fun of lugging it home. Also, in my crazy little fantasy world, I pictured everyone arriving to the tree place by bike - a procession of longtails, bakfietsen and porteurs transporting all manner of prickly greenery, the length of Somerville Avenue filled with the scent of pine. Naturally a brass band played in the background.






Then we got to the tree place. And gosh, I don't know, it was so sad. Our lonely bikes surrounded by SUVs in the parking lot.All the cut-down trees stacked up against a rusty fence. There was no way they would all get bought in time for the holidays.






We hung out for a bit. The place was like a small, dead miniature pine forest amidst an urban landscape.




Xtra Holiday Errands

Finally, we did the same thing we did last year: bought a small potted pine. It doesn't look very impressive, but on the plus side it will live... maybe.




Xtra Holiday Errands

Which brings me to a dark confession: You see, last year I killed one of these little trees. I didn't mean to! My plan was to remove the decorations after the holidays and keep the tree in the house year-round, to be decorated again the following year. But the tree failed to thrive in our apartment and eventually dried up. This time I will read up on replanting, and hopefully this one will survive. A bicycle ride to the forest is in this little tree's future...