Cycling Through the Neighborhood(s)

The small street where I live is positioned between two radically different neighborhoods on the Cambridge/Somerville line in the greater Boston area.

In one direction is an affluent Harvard neighborhood with brick sidewalks, historical mansions, romantic gardens, and overarching trees.

In the other direction is a stretch of concrete lined with multi-family houses with faded vinyl siding, shopping plazas, warehouses, and unfinished construction sites behind chain-link fences.

When we first moved here, it amazed me that two neighborhoods of such different character could border each other so crisply: There is no overlap, it is as if someone drew a line between them. Over time I got used to the divide and just accepted it as a given, but having begun cycling made me hyper-aware of it once again.

Cycling towards Harvard is relatively tranquil, with roads that are in reasonable shape and motorists who seem accustomed to bicycles. I would not go so far as to call it a "Disneyworld version" of a vehicular cycling experience, but close to it.

Cycling in the other direction, the roads are covered with pot-holes, the drivers are more aggressive and impatient, and traffic patterns are chaotic. Recently, Somerville has painted "sharrows" all over the major roads and this has helped a bit with the driver aggression. A bit.

When I first began cycling, I dealt with this by staying away from Somerville and only going to destinations that could be accessed via the calmer Cambridge route. But in the long run, this was not a reasonable solution. So I started to get myself used to the area by cycling with the Co-Habitant. Gradually, the anxiety of it began to subside. And then, one morning I got on my bike and rode on my own to a hardware store that is in the very thicket of the area that used to intimidate me. It suddenly felt fine.

I know that there are many, many people who cycle through Somerville constantly and probably find my comments here ridiculous / pathetic, but so be it - cycling there used to honestly give me anxiety attacks. No more though. In some ways it is up to the person to make the area where they live accessible to themselves.

Cycling Destinations

image via chris531

For the past several years, I've had a dream cycling destination that I fantasise about incessantly: the Dark Hedges in the North of Ireland. Oh the Dark Hedges! What are they? Well technically, they are just a short stretch of country road near the coast of Couny Antrim. The road is lined with ancient beach trees, and these trees have grown so crooked and twisted that the overhanging branches have intertwined to form a magnificent canopy. Overgrown with moss, the whole thing has an enchanted, mystical look to it. I fell in love with this unseen piece of landscape the first time I saw a photograph of it, immediately imagining myself under the canopy as sunlight streamed through black branches and everything turned hundreds of shades of green. What happens next? I'm not sure, but something magical. Maybe if one is there at just the right time of day, the trees will talk to you, or the faeries will come out. And if you're there at the wrong time of day, you'll be turned into a tree yourself. With a name like Dark Hedges, an element of danger is to be expected.




As I got into cycling, it was only natural that I began to imagine visiting the Dark Hedges by bicycle. I have family in Ireland, and by this time last year I had developed a grandiose plan that involved visiting them, then taking a train north, disembarking once the "scenic parts" began, and cycling along the coast for hundreds of miles - through rolling green hills overlooking treacherous cliffs, and past the Giant's Causeway - until finally, exhausted and covered in road dust, I would arrive at the Dark Hedges and triumphantly cycle through them as their beauty and magic penetrated every fiber of my being.



I know. Some dream of crossing the Pyrenees and I dream of cycling through a cluster of hedges. Well, it's my fantasy!



While I had hoped my pilgrimage to the Dark Hedges would take place last year, obviously that did not happen. The more I began to look into it practically, the more confused I became as to how to arrange it. There was the question of getting my bike over there - which is so expensive and unpleasant, that at first I thought I'd be better off renting or borrowing a bicycle in Ireland. But on closer examination, it turned out that finding a roadbike to rent would actually be quite difficult, and cycling for hundreds of miles on an upright hybrid was not what I had in mind. And while I have friends there who are willing to lend me a bike, they live in the opposite direction from where I'd be heading, so the logistics would not work out. But the final blow that made me postpone planning this trip came when a couple of local acquaintances expressed skepticism about the idea, telling me that the drivers were awful and that all the good cycling was on the west, not the east coast. Hmm. Of course "awful" should be taken with a grain of salt, as they'd never cycled on the roads in the US and their basis for comparison is limited. Still, all of this taken together made me put the brakes on the idea until I could get a better sense of how to plan a trip like this.



Which brings me to a larger point: How does one go about planning a cycling trip to a place they've never been? There are many beautiful locations that are touted as cycling destinations, but the truth is that we do not really know how comfortable we will be with the terrain and road sharing culture until we are there. Having recently read about two cycling couples' experiences in New Zealand has further highlighted this problem. Localrandonneurs Pamela and John "Blayley" picked up andmoved to New Zealand in 2002, believing (after a great deal of research) that it would be a cyclist's paradise. What they discovered in practice however, was rather different and they ended up moving back to the US just 2 years later. More recently, Russ Roca and Laura Crawford of The Path Less Pedaled embarked on a tour of New Zealand - billed as "The Kiwi Chronicles," documented by the Bicycle Times, and meant to promote new Zealand as a cycling friendly destination. It was therefore a surprise to everyone when several days ago they experienced a road rage incident involving physical violence while cycling single file. The incident has sparked a media frenzy, challenging the portrayal of New Zealand as friendly or safe for bicyclists.



I have a number of acquaintances and colleagues who have gone on trips to their dream cycling destinations, and the feedback has been pretty mixed. Those who go to France and Italy seem to have better experiences overall. This may simply be because those routes are so well traveled that it is possible to do more thorough research and have a better idea of what to expect, and it may also be because both countries have a well developed cycling cultures. While to me, Ireland seems like the perfect place to cycle - with its rolling hills, beautiful scenery and rural roads - I have found comparatively few personal narratives allowing me to gauge what the particular route I am interested in would be like for someone of my skill level, and so I remain conflicted.What is your dream cycling destination, and how would you approach planning a trip to one?

A Year in Cadence

Some time ago I discovered the concept of cadence. Put simply, cadence is the rate at which the cyclist is pedaling, measured in crank revolutions per minute (rpm). People I ride with will sometimes tell me mine is high, which is how I became curious what it is. For a while I had a computer with a cadence sensor and was able to monitor it. When I first got the sensor it was typically in the mid-80s. Eventually it grew into the low 90s. Then last Spring I got my new bike, and it came with a new-fangled fancy computer, but no cadence sensor. I meant to add it, but then forgot. A year went by during which I had no idea what my cadence was. Then last week, again I got a comment from someone riding next to me. It was something like "Jeez you pedal like you're going downhill on a fixed gear! Might as well take off that big ring, eh? Looks hardly used!" (this is true). At the same time,this postappeared on Heidi Swift's site, glamourising riding in the small ring à la Julie Krasniak. So I figured the universe was trying to tell me something.



I asked at my cycling club (which is also a bike shop, which is also a cafe) about installing a monitor. "Oh it's easy!" they said, and swiftly attached an enormous ugly thing to my bike's left chainstay. The sheer size and alienness of it took me aback, since my previous cadence monitor had been just a wisp of a thing. Eying the monstrous appendage apprehensively, I got on my bike and pedaled away.



Getting up to Just Riding Along pace, I glanced at the cadence and saw that the number was 103. I thought no, that's not right. And with all that thinking going on, it did drop a bit - but then promptly rose again. I rode a loop on rolling hills, glancing at the cadence occasionally. Mid 90s - low 100s seems to be a range I am comfortable with, without getting out of breath.



Curious, I decided to check how high I could make that number go up. Seeing 112 was pretty fun, rising toward 120! I kept that up for a bit, until suddenly I was overwhelmingly nauseous. I will have to experiment more carefully...



I'm not sure what to make of my rising cadence numbers over the years. I guess I just plain like to pedal fast and feel little resistance. Alas, I don't seem to ride any faster or more elegantly because of it. But it's fun to see the number go up. And it certainly explains why I like having low gears on my bikes!

Ice tinkering 12.11.11

The ice bouldering conditions I found on Sunday 12/11/11

I wasn't sure there would be any ice and I was partnerless, but being an optimist I pack up my tools and crampons and decided to head out and see if I could find anything "climbable". I made my way to an area in the Laurel Highlands that is around 2650' in elevation figuring that as all the lower stuff was sure to be a wash. I drove as far I could until the icy roads and steep inclines would've trapped me for sure. It was a pleasant day with the temps in the mid 20's to 30 degrees and the sun shining. I ended up hiking about a mile down the the icy road to the crag slipping and sliding my way down the hill.

Happy to find ice and enjoy the colder weather.

The ice I found was a little delaminated with running water in some areas, but was tall enough and stable enough that I could get some early season mixed training in. What the ice lacked in size it surely made up for in fun! I was able to traverse several hundred yards covering both ice runnels and rock. The ice varied in thickness from relatively thin (enough to hold body weight) to some decent swing and sticks. It was nice to see ice again. The temps up high have been cold since my visit and should still be good. I plan to visit again this week for some more early season ice bouldering.

After ice bouldering I went to check other areas.

Here's the best I found. Still has a ways to go, but winter

is almost here!

The Pashley Guv'nor: A Retrogrouch's Dream

When borrowing bikes from Portland Velocipede, I had thought the Co-Habitant might like to try something entirely new, like a Gazelle or a Brompton. But he is a die-hard Pashley fan and seized the opportunity to ride the Pashley Guv'nor.The man is not overly fond of writing, so I will do my best to communicate his impressions - though the picture above pretty much says it all.



The Pashley Guv'nor is modeled on the 1930s Path Racer, and its faithfulness to this concept is remarkable. The frame is relaxed, with the same frame geometry and 28" wheel size as the Pashley Roadster. But while the Roadster is made of high-tensile steel (heavy, utilitarian), the Guv'nor is made of Reynold's 531 tubing (super light, high-end).



Additionally, the Guv'nor features fancier lugwork, and is equipped with sportier and more luxurious components - such as the racy upside down "North Rroad" handlebars, a Nitto stem, leather grips, and a Brooks B17 Titanium saddle. It is available as a single speed or a 3-speed, and a crazy limited edition with 4 speeds and golden lugs exists as well.



The Guv'nor is fitted with cream Schwalbe Delta Cruiser tires, and it intentionally lacks fenders. No lights or racks either. Like a traditional path racer, this bicycle has a high bottom bracket and horizontal chain stays. Because of the high bottom bracket and theslack seat tube, there is a huge amount of seat post showing, which exaggerates the aggressive appearance. Although the Co-Habitant's Roadster has the same amount of exposed seat tube, this is disguised by the huge rails and springs of the Brooks B-33 saddle that the Roadster is fitted with. The flat and unsprung B17 on the Guv'nor, on the other hand, leavesevery millimeter exposed.



Front and rear drum brakes give the bicycle a clean appaerance.



They also allow for black rims with golden pinstriping (not really captured in the pictures, but it's there).



Drivetrain and track fork ends. The one aspect of the Guv'nor's components the Co-Habitamt dislikes are the cranks; he thinks they are "ugly" - though personally, I do not think they are bad looking.



Close-up of the handlebars, with brass bell and retro-style Sturmey Archer 3-speed shifter.



The vintage-looking shifter is a nice touch.



As I didon the Abici, the Co-Habitant rode around Portland, Maine on the Guv'nor - even taking it along into a dining establishment. No one seemed to mind and the bicycle received compliments.



The Pashley Guv'nor, waiting for hisbeer and calamari.Unlike the Pashley Roadtser, it is extremely easy to maneuver and drag around due to its light weight.



In terms of ride quality, the Guv'nor handles like a cross between a roadster and a road bike. It is very light, fast, and maneuverable - yet also stately. Some aspects of the geometry can take getting used to: Because the saddle is so far back due to the slack seat tube (plus the seat post has set-back), the handlebars are extremely far away. The Co-Habitant thinks that Pashley should have either used a shorter stem, or a seat post with no set-back; otherwise the posture feels too extreme - especially in combination with the slack seat tube and the forward position of the pedals.



Riding the bike around town was tremendous fun for the Co-Habitant, and of course he would love to own such a bike in a world unhindered by practical considerations. But the Guv'nor woud hardly be a reasonable choice for regular commuting, given its lack of fenders and lights. And while in theory, these could be installed, doing so would ruin the authentic Path Racer look - which is the very heart of the concept behind the Guv'nor. Ultimately, theGuv'norwas not designed for practicality and makes no claims to be a daily commuter. It is a trophy-bike, meantto be taken out in fair weather and enjoyed for its unique ride quality and vintage aesthetics. More than anything, it is the concept itself that is impressive: Pashleycreated this bicycle true to the original and made it painfully handsome in the process.



Many thanks toPortland Velocipedefor loaning out this bicycle.

The amazing alpine photos of John Scurlock!

All Images Copyright 2004/, John Scurlock, Photographer & Pilot.



You have to dbl click this photo!



http://www.pbase.com/nolock/root

Don Garlits Museum of Drag Racing

Since it was an extra long weekend, we both were able to pick a thing to go and see/do and then we picked one together. My pick was the Drag Racing Museum that was nearby. I have been excited about this museum since we got here. I love all things to do with cool cars of any type. Nathan is a little less enthusiastic about them. When it comes to them being in a museum, it works out perfectly though because it is the only kinds of museums that I want to spend as long in the museum as Nathan does.



While he reads every single written word in the museum, I look at every single thing on the car that I think is cool. Then I take pictures of every single thing I think is cool. Which means I end up with way more pictures than is reasonable. Then I go home and look at them...over and over again. I really love cool cars.



This particular museum was founded by Big Daddy Don Garlits. His bio is extremely impressive. His cars were extremely impressive. The museum was extremely impressive. We had a great time visiting this place!




There is not a lot of information about the museum online, so I did not know just how much would be here. I was hoping there would be enough that we would feel it was worth the time and money. It went way beyond that, having far more there than we expected and it was laid out very nicely making it very easy to learn a lot along the way. Alongside of the displays were posters, signage and even movie clips.





There was information about the drivers, some of which were women. There were stories about the times when the reality of how dangerous this is reared its ugly head. At one point Garlits had an injury that sliced through his foot, tearing his foot in half. One of the outcomes of that injury was some engineering design changes such as moving the engine behind the driver instead of in front of the driver. There were pieces and parts of the cars that had been in accidents.



And of course there were rows and rows of the awesome cars! We highly recommend this neat museum if you are in the Ocala area. There are two museums on site, I will come back and share about the other one after I get the pictures cropped and edited. That might take days because I took even more pictures at the other museum! Living the life in interesting Florida!