Peppermint Stick Zinnia

We were late in planting the garden, so even the quick-starters are just starting to be productive. Last year, I wasted a lot of money on exotic seeds that never germinated. Since I couldn't be sure if it was the seeds or it was me at fault, I decided to keep the flower experiments simple until I had a clue about what I was doing.

Zinnias are easy. Zinnias truly are "Flowers for Dummies". So I bought almost every Zinnia mix that Johnny's offers.



The Peppermint Stick is supposed to be a "fully double bloom".



They're not exactly turning out like that, though. (Compare with the image in that last link.)



Maybe they need more water. I kind of like them this way, though.



One of the "small percentage of solid colors" they warn you about.



This one's trying to go for "double" I guess. Sometimes one of the petals is a solid color like this. I found that if I cut them at this point, those inner petals never unfurl. They seem to stay frozen in time at the moment of cutting.

Like all the other Zinnias, they have excellent staying power as a cut flower.

The Keweenaw Peninsula :: Fort Wilkins

Sunday, August 7th - - It was an extremely cloudy and overcast day on Saturday with a forecast of rain in the afternoon. The rain didn't materialize until Sunday morning but I spent a leisurely day Saturday getting caught up with everyday tasks – grocery shopping, laundry, etc. And, of course, working on the computer and writing blog posts. You not only learn to take advantage of the “good” days (the pretty ones with blue skies and sunshine) but also the “bad” days that are somewhat dreary and sometimes a little depressing.



Sunday morning I headed northwest, catching US 41 and following it all the way to the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula and stopped at Fort Wilkins Historic State Park for the night. The further north I drove, the nicer the weather got. The rain stopped and the sun came out. Blue skies returned.



In the 1840s when the copper rush took place the US Government built Fort Wilkins due to a concern with possible disorder and violence amongst the miners and local natives. The Army built 27 structures, including a guardhouse, powder magazine, seven officer's quarters, two barracks, two mess halls, a hospital, storehouse, sutler's store, quartermaster's store, bakery, blacksmith's shop, carpenter's shop, icehouse, four quarters for married enlisted men, stables, and a slaughter house – all to house the operations of two full-strength infantry companies. Several of the original structures still survive while others have been reconstructed following archaeological excavations.



It was an interesting self-guided tour. Apparently they have costumed interpreters on-site during some periods of the summer, but not while I was there! However, there are plenty of informative displays all around that provide a good deal of information.





The Officer's Quarters and another building reflected in the old glass windows of another building.





I thought it was interesting that the four buildings housing the married enlisted men and their families were outside the gates of the fort!





One of the other things that I thought was really interesting is that they displayed copies of original documents – some census records, muster rolls, etc. and they have documented the lives of most of the men who served at Fort Wilkins!



This graphic, with reflections abounding, tells the tale of the soldiers stationed at Fort Wilkins. Wouldn't it be neat if one of your ancestors had served there?



In total, two hundred seventy-one enlisted men served at Fort Wilkins between 1844 and 1870. Records for all but ten have been found. What became of these soldiers after they left here?

• One of every twelve died in the army – half of them from natural causes.


• One of every ten serving here in the 1840s was a battlefield casualty in the Mexican War.


• One of every nine enlisted men to serve here left the army by desertion.


• Less than 4% (one of every twenty-six) re-enlisted.

More photos of Fort Wilkins via Google Images.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

When we first began the RVing lifestyle, we listened to "A Series of Unfortunate Events" on audiobooks while we made the three hour drive from our house to where our RV was set up. The series is about a family of children that has one "unfortunate" thing after another happen to them. Lately, I am feeling like I could be a star in this quirky book series.



I normally get sick ranging from rarely to never. In the past few months, I've managed to have one weird thing after another happen. None of them that major except maybe having my gall bladder removed. Still, each one has been painful and frustrating. I twisted my ankle while in the OBX. I then had the gall bladder infection leading to surgery. We had an attack of the lovely little critters known as chiggers that was surprisingly uncomfortable. I have had allergy symptoms off and on that range from the mild ones to the my head feels like it is in a vice ones.



When we first arrived here I got pink eye in a more serious way than I ever have before. Last week I was stung by a yellow jacket and had a funky reaction to it. Yesterday I guess I decided to close the loop of unfortunate events by repeating the ankle twist. Again.



Now I am sporting this look:





The good news is that it is only a sprain and nothing is broken. The bad news is I can't walk on it so that means no holiday prep and no pickleball playing. Luckily I do not work until Friday, so I can rest in the meantime.



I've decided I've had enough of this series and would like to begin starring in a new series. I think something along the lines of Life is Good and my body is healthy and whole would be good. In the meantime Nathan is waiting on me hand and foot and is even doing the housework. I have had sweet friends here send me the kindest get well wishes. I am getting to do some digital scrapbooking which I always love. I think I'll focus on the gratitude I feel for those things instead of whining about the painful foot. It is Thanksgiving week after all!



Living the still fortunate life in Florida!

We're Leaving on a Jet Plane

For my birthday, Nathan planned a little trip for us. Since it is definitely high season here at the park, I didn't plan to go any place until the end of the season. Thank to him, the manager and the girls who covered my shifts-we were able to go now.



Normally when we fly, we both read books. This time we both had smartphones to entertain us. Which means Nathan did this:



While I did this:

Cats in a Box

Last week we bought a new vacuum cleaner and the cats have had fun with the box. First Cassie crawled in the box and peaked out to see if anyone was watching her.



Then Murphy came and peaked in at her to see what she was doing.



Then Twinky came to see if Cassie was all right in that big box.



Twinky tried to get Cassie out like Murphy had done.(Murphy is solid black, and Twinky is black with white feet. Cassie is gray with white feet.)



Twinky got Cassie to come out so Cassie told Twinky to get in.



Twinky crawled in and peaked out to see if the other cats were watching her.



Cassie was watching and she thought Oh, good, I got Twinky now. and she stood on top of the box so Twinky couldn't get out.







And Wiley just laid near by and watched all the younger cats and the oldest one, (Murphy) playing with the box. Wiley decided he was to good to be playing with a box.

Wind & Sand

It is so dry here. We are in a heck of a drought as are several of the other southwestern states. The wind blows and the sand creeps into the house through each and every little crack. You might think you have the best windows made but find out there is not any window that seals well enought to keep this dust out. There are brush fires everywhere. New Mexico, Texas, Colorado, Oklahoma, Arizona that I am sure of. Tornados are just as bad like in Iowa and Wisconsin. These photos don't show the wind and dirt that well, but they are kind of blurry due to the blowing sand. The first one is after a windy day when the sand is blown like little waves.

Phend-Fisher Family Reunion Ledger - 1915

June 26, 1915

The Phend and Fisher family reunion met at the Weiss grove. A splendid dinner was enjoyed by all.

Officers for the ensuing year as follows.
William Phend. Pres.
Jacob Phend Tres.
Ivy Wehrly Sec'y

Births since June 27, 1914 as follows.
Emerson Rhodes Aug. 19
Warren Edwin Pletcher Jan. 30
Mary Alice Phend May 3
Ward Miller May 11
Blanche Evelyn May 4
Mary Elizebeth Manuel

Married
Moses Phend.
- - - - - - - - -
Fred Earnest
- - - - - - - - -
Archie Seniff
Bertha Kline

The Phend-Fisher families gathered for a reunion in Elkhart County, Indiana almost annually from 1909 until 1943. Usually held at Nappanee, the events of the day were recorded in an old ledger book. Spelling has been retained as it was in the original though some punctuation and paragraph breaks have been added. To view all articles in this series click on the "Phend-Fisher Reunion Ledger" label at the bottom of this post.

Turn Signals and Brake Lights: Can It Be Done, Elegantly?

[Steyr Waffenrad c.1925; image via radlmax]

I know that I am not the first to bring this up. But when I see details like this from 85 years ago, I wonder what it would take to develop a modern, elegant mechanism whereby squeezing the brake levers on a bicycle would activate a flashing tail light. And furthermore, what it would take to develop an unencumbered, easy to use system that allowed for turn signal lights to be displayed without the cyclist having to use hand signals - which, from personal experience, I know are not always visible to motorists and are not always possible to execute.



While various turn signal and brake light kits for bicycles already exist, they are not popular. And I suspect the reason, is that the currently available ones either turn the bicycle into a science project monster covered with a mess of wires and gadgets, or are just not convenient to use. But what about a simple, attractive design that would integrate with a classic bicycle seamlessly? a design that a "normal person" (i.e. not someone who is into gadgetry) would find appealing and easy use? I find it surprising that various labs out there are developing prototypes of all sorts of crazy futuristic bikes without drivetrains or spoked wheels, yet the idea of brake and turn lights does not seem interesting or useful enough for anybody to pursue seriously.



If I had the funds and influence to do so, I would love to sponsor a contest with precisely this goal in mind - but unfortunately, I don't think that knitted hats and the "honor" of being featured on Lovely Bicycle alone have sufficient pull to convince electrical engineers to spend their time working on such a project. If anybody in the industry is interested in getting involved as a sponsor, please do get in touch.



What are your thoughts on this? If designed to integrate with the bicycle seamlessly, would you find a brake light and turn signal system useful, or not particularly? And in the event that you already have one installed on your bike, which one is it and how is it working out for you?

Desert Wild Flower

I don't

know what this plant is. It is one of the first to put on green leaves and bloom in the spring. It seems to be a native plant. The flowers are tiny, tiny on a long stem clustter of flowers. Leaves are long and stripped. Not much to look at but at least it doesn't have stickers on it.

Hey. You Look Good.

Looking straight at her, he said it with nonchalant sincerity, nodding in approval for emphasis.



"Hey. You look good."



In response she gave him a startled, almost bewildered look. As if caught off guard by his directness. As if to say "Hey buddy, this is a cycling club, not a night club. And don't you know any subtler flirting tactics besides?"



Witnessing the exchange I had to suppress a laugh. When this phrase was first said to me on a ride, I did not know what to make of it either.



Of course the guy was telling her she looked good on the bike. That her position was good, that the bike fit her well, that she had good form. It's all in the tone and in the look. Once you get used to this pronouncement in a cycling context, it's hard to mistake for flirtation. But the first time it does catch you off guard. "You look good." Just like that, huh?



I don't tell other cyclists they look good on the bike when we ride together. I don't feel ready. What do I know good form from bad? Yes I see things, and I think it to myself. But it wouldn't be right to say it. The compliment must have significance.



But when I have my camera the dynamic changes. I tell riders they look good then, and it takes on a different meaning: happy, radiant, picturesque. Maybe they have a contagious smile. Or an intriguing frown. Or the light through the trees is falling on their face just so. Or the colour of their bike interacts perfectly with the colours of the bench they are standing beside. It feels natural to say it then, looking through the lens of my camera. "You look wonderful." Or "That's beautiful - thank you."



And there are times when I know not to say it. Just like sometimes I know not to point my camera. Even though the scene looks perfect, I just don't.



The human gaze is such a complicated thing. It communicates interest, care, the acknowledgement of the other, but also scrutiny. We want to be gazed upon to some extent, but there is always a line beyond which we don't. In cycling, the gaze is ever present - focused on each other's bodies, movements. Sometimes it is silent judgment. And sometimes it culminates in "Hey. You look good." In response to which I simply say "Thanks" and continue to pedal.

Adirondack Crack Attack, Day Two: Upper Washbowl Cliff

(Photo: a portion of Upper Washbowl Cliff, with a climber visible back in the corner, in the middle of the second pitch of Partition (5.9-).)



I know that I have no special talent for rock climbing.



I enjoy it and do it as much as I can. But since other things in my life (like marriage, children, and work) also take up lots of time, I don't really get out to climb that often. It's been an awesome year, and I've been lucky enough to take a few multi-day trips to Vegas and the 'Dacks, but even including these trips I don't think I'll get more than two dozen days on real rock in . I know that I am extremely fortunate to get this many days to play outside; two dozen probably sounds like an awful lot to some climbing dads out there. But when you're talking about making athletic progress, let's be honest: it's a joke.



It just isn't that easy to get better when you don't get out that much.



But I also have a firm belief that an ordinary guy like me, an occasional weekend warrior, can be a 5.10 climber. I don't think superhuman fitness or even perfect technique is required. A certain basic proficiency plus just enough experience should, in my opinion, get me there eventually. This year my goal was to take a big step in the right direction by getting solid at 5.9. Over the summer I started to feel like it might be happening. I seemed to be doing well on 5.9 climbs in the Gunks. And aren't Gunks ratings steeper than everywhere else? I started to entertain the notion that maybe I could walk up to a 5.9 anywhere and feel confident that it would be no problem.



But then I did some climbing in the Adirondacks. And I guess I got my ass kicked a little bit. The vertical crack climbing felt unfamiliar. I realized how narrow my Gunks-focused skill set really is. And I discovered that maybe the ratings in the 'Dacks are even stiffer than in the Gunks.



On day one of my recent two-day trip to the Adirondacks with Adrian, I was extremely grateful not to be leading the Poke-O Moonshine 5.9+ Bloody Mary. And I struggled to lead the 5.8+ P.T. Pillar, taking a hang and then a short fall.



On day two, Adrian and I decided to visit Upper Washbowl Cliff. I really wanted to hit the two John Turner classics on the cliff, Hesitation (5.8) and Partition (5.9-). I was also interested in the 5.8 link-up of Prelude and Overture, and the 5.6 Weissner Route. So there were plenty of possibilities available to us.



As we trooped up the hill to the cliff, we passed the single-pitch Creature Wall and found it quite wet. Nevertheless there was a party at the base and a guide setting up numerous topropes for a group.



This was a bad sign. I didn't expect crowds. Where were we, the Trapps?



But we were relieved to find no one at Upper Washbowl. The cliff seemed empty and the trail deposited us right at the base of Hesitation, John Turner's four-pitch route up the center of the cliff.





(Photo: working up pitch one of Hesitation (5.8).)



The crux pitch of Hesitation is the first. It ascends a corner with a crack at the back. Its appearance should have reminded me of my struggles on P.T. Pillar. I was also feeling a bit less than 100 percent after imbibing several of Lake Placid's fine Ubu Ales the previous evening. But for some reason no warning bells went off in my mind and I volunteered for the lead. I didn't intend to wuss out just because the previous day had been hard. I felt I needed to go right back at it. And this pitch used to be considered a 5.7! The new guidebook had upgraded it to 5.8, but note that there is no plus after the 8 on that grade. I figured I'd be fine.



In the end, I did get through it okay. I took no falls or hangs. But I found it hard and committing. The crack was too wide for jamming, I thought, so I mostly laid back off of it, feeling insecure. I had to work up the courage to trust my feet over and over again. All the moves worked out fine, but I took forever, worrying my way to the end.



When Adrian joined me at the top of pitch one he said he thought the pitch was pretty straightforward.



I asked him if he been able to jam the crack, as I'd found it too wide.



"Sideways," he said. "You have to turn your fist sideways."



Jesus, I thought, I really don't know how to crack climb.



No wonder I thought the pitch was hard. I had no idea how properly to climb it! I am such a maroon.



Even taking my incompetence into account, I find it kind of amazing that this pitch was long considered a 5.7. It seemed harder than that to me. It was much harder than pitch four of Gamesmanship on Poke-O. I still don't get it.





(Photo: a sun-bleached shot of Adrian at the end of the pitch two traverse on Hesitation.)



Pitch two, rated 5.7, was Adrian's lead. This pitch is where Turner felt the need to hesitate on the first ascent, and it's easy to see why. An exposed traverse with so-so feet takes you out to the end of an overhang. The climbing above is easy but there's no way to tell from below.



The traverse really isn't bad. The feet are thin at first but they get better as you move across and the pro is also solid until you reach the end of the roof. Still, it is exciting, and once you clear the overhang the easier climbing up and left to the belay point has precious little pro. I have to give Adrian credit, he managed to place two micro-nuts that I thought were good in the runout part of the pitch.





(Photo: The start of the 5.6 pitch four of Hesitation.)



The last two pitches are nice, but in my opinion less memorable than the first two. A long 5.5 pitch three leads to the final corner that is ascended by pitch four. After an awkward move or two to get established on the wall (see photo above), good positive edges on the right face take you to the top. It seemed to me to be fairly graded at 5.6, a fun end to an outstanding multipitch climb.





(Photo: Starting up the Weissner Route (5.6). First ascent 1935!)



By the time we found the right-side rap recommended by Lawyer & Haas and had a little lunch, it seemed like the day was already slipping away. I wanted to make sure we got to do the second pitch of Partition (5.9-), which the guidebook lists as the best pitch on the cliff. And truthfully I wasn't feeling like challenging myself all that much on lead any more. So I proposed to Adrian that we do the first two pitches of the Weissner Route (5.6), which would place us in a good position from which to climb the final pitch on Partition.



Adrian led pitch one, which is now graded 5.6 but historically was considered a 5.5. The crux comes at an obvious, square block that forms an overhang with a fixed piton underneath. Adrian puzzled over the move for a minute before powering up the crack on the left side. When it was my turn, I thought I actually found a more elegant solution, using the right edge of the block as well as the crack on the left. But I had to marvel at Fritz getting up this in mountain boots in 1935. And 5.5?? I've never been on a 5.5 with moves like this.





(Photo: Adrian almost to the top of Partition (5.9-), in the final off-width section.)



As I emerged from the easy, quite enjoyable 5.4 second pitch of the Weissner Route, I had no trouble finding Partition. It is a another Turner route so, no surprise, it follows a vertical crack in a corner. This corner is very imposing and it widens at the end to an off-width. The kicker on the day of our ascent was that it was also wet right before point where the crack widens. Once again we were looking at a route that had been upgraded by Lawyer and Haas in their recent guidebook, to 5.9- from 5.8+. It sure looked hard to me, steep and sustained, and there was no telling what that off-width at the end would be like.



I wondered if we could even climb it with the wetness but there was a party just rapping off and they said it wasn't too bad. Adrian was psyched to get on it so I graciously allowed him to lead it.



He didn't exactly make it look easy, but he got up it without any real trouble. All the way up he was very pleased with the hand jams.



When the rope came tight on me, I knew it was now or never. I was going to jam my way up this crack or I wasn't going to get up it. And for the most part it was a success. Hand jam after hand jam, the crack was very secure. It seemed to go on forever. I hadn't taped up, and the back of my right hand got ripped up a bit, but not too badly. As I finally neared the off-width I thought I might be on my way to a send, but then the crack became very wet. I tried to jam it and my hand slipped right out, causing me to take a fall oh so close to the finish.



Trying again, I slipped out once more.



As I paused to rest I looked around and realized I was failing because I was missing a diagonal, ramp-like series of dry holds on the right face of the corner. I had gotten tunnel vision, and had become for the first time in my life TOO focused on the vertical crack, ignoring the other holds.



Once I woke up and saw the holds to the right, I got easily up into the off-width, which ended up requiring no off-width technique. There are good holds at the top of the slot and the final move out of it plays out like a Gunks climb, with a couple horizontal jugs providing the means of escape.



Partition was the pitch of the weekend, we both agreed. So awesome. I want to go back and lead it clean. And even though I fell in the wetness while seconding it, I view my time on Partition as a success. Maybe I'll look back on it as the pitch that finally made me into some kind of crack climber.

Some Aid Practice ..

Since we were blessed with another nice (not raining) November day in Seattle, Adam and I decided to hit the north wall of the Mountaineers Clubhouse for some light aid practice. It had been over a year since I had been in aiders, leading or following, so it was shaking off the rust.

I geared up and led a pitch with a short traverse to the chains at the top. I continuous ran into problems the whole pitch with my easy daisies, not having cut them loose and occasionally clipping through them. These issues stayed with me at the anchor as I had to lower down and right to get on rappel. It wasn't pretty. Once I sorted all my issues, I rapped and Adam followed.

Adam started with difficulty until he sorted the easy daisies and got his jugging setup right. Then he cruised to the top and re-aided the traverse to the chains. He enjoyed it, but we didn't have time for him to lead a pitch, so we packed up and called it a day.

Real Gone

Friends began to suspect it some time ago, but I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to admit it, even to myself. But now it's gotten to the point that it's affecting my sleep, my social life, even my work on the blog. And so the time has come to tell the truth:I am building a bicycle frame.




My mentor isMike Flanigan- fabled builder, instructor, and patron saint of the local steel-addicted youth.So at least I am in good hands. But why do this at all? I don't think it will lead anywhere. I don't think I will be good at it. It's something I simply can't help.




In part, I blame my environment: Boston is so replete with framebuilders, that the behaviour has become normalised here.Perhaps naively, I thought that I could watch friends light up those frame joints over and over and not get tempted. But after 3 years of it, I caved. "I'll try it once," I said.




Then there is the annoying combination of my curiosity about things like bike handling and frame geometry, coupled with my poor ability to grasp abstract concepts. In the end, I do not see a good way to "get" this stuff other than the hands-on method. If I want to understand tubing diameter and thickness, I should work with some tubing. If I want to understand frame geometry, I should put one together and see how everything fits.




Finally, having worked on a few collaborative projects with framebuilders now, I kept feeling uncomfortable with not understanding their process as thoroughly as I would have liked. When working with a fabricator on a future project, I want to be 100% aware of what I am looking at and agreeing to, not 90% as I was during the latest one. If I am interested in bicycle design, I need to go through the fabrication process myself at least once.




So those are my reasons. Maybe they are logical, maybe not, I have lost perspective at this point. But in any event,here I am: eyes blurry after weeks of reading and re-reading what I only somewhat grasp, and elbows deep in tubing which I am almost certain to ruin. And I haven't even gotten into the hard stuff yet. The brazing, that point of no return, begins next week. Mike seems to think I will actually be able to ride the bike I make, but I am not getting my hopes up.




I've been taking a lot of notes, and will continue to do so in the following weeks. I plan to post at least some of these notes online here(the name "Not a framebuilder" is a joke, inspired by my encounters with Bruce Gordon and Richard Sachs).There is not much content there at the moment, but the notes are coming. I will also write up a few cohesive posts about the whole thing on this blog, once it's over. In the end it might be a story of failure, and I am willing to accept that. Won't know unless I try!

Remembering a Man I Never Knew

[image viasheldonbrown.com]






Because I live in Boston and have been writing about Harris Cyclery from the start of this blog, I am sometimes asked whether I knew Sheldon Brown. What was he like? Did he inspire my love of English 3-speeds? But I regret to say, that I have never met him. The first time I walked into Harris Cyclery was just over a year after Sheldon Brown's death, the anniversary of which was last week. I was already reading his articles at that time (this was Spring ), but did not realise that he'd passed away. And then at Harris, there was this basket on the counter full of little flyers with his picture and "1944 - " underneath it. Seeing the flyers was like a punch in the stomach. "Oh no, he died!" I blurted out without thinking. I remember the moment well, and particularly the disappointment and sadness of it. Somehow, this man's articles about bicycles had managed to fill me with enough affection toward him, so that his death felt like a personal loss - despite learning of it a year after the fact.




Sheldon Brown was a bicycle mechanic, whose technical knowledge - particularly of classic and vintage bikes - was not only vast, but presented in the most captivating manner through a seemingly endless series of articles, glossaries and instruction pages. He shared his writing, including technical information, history, and decades worth of personal journals and travelogues, via a website he developed with Harris Cyclery, which continues to be maintained today. His writing was sincere, funny, wacky, and excellent in equal measure, and its influence cannot be overstated. I meet people from all over the world who will casually mention that they learned how to work on bicycles "from reading Sheldon Brown," or that thanks to his website they identified an old bike found in the cellar, or even that they took up randonneuring after reading his online journals and descriptions of France. Bicycle forums and news groups are replete with Sheldon Brown references and quotes.



But you can find a far better description of all this in his obituary in The Times, and thetribute on Bike Snobis worth reading as well. I don't want to attempt to paint a portrait of a man I never knew. But I do want to acknowledge his impact on me personally.






[image via sheldonbrown.com]


Like so many others, I stumbled upon Sheldon Brown's website while looking for information on vintage bicycles. And I believe it's what I found in his writing that turned what could have been a passing curiosity into the seeds of an obsession. I cannot put my finger on what it was exactly that drew me in: Maybe it was his easy relationship with technical and historical information, which made everything read like a story, rather than a boring manual. Maybe it was his open-minded curiosity about different types of bicycles and different aspects of cycling. Or maybe it was the way he embraced eccentricity, without trying to either downplay or justify it. It's hard to say, but whatever it was - it got through to me and engaged my imagination. I am just one person, but I am certain there are many, many others who would say the same. And that's quite something.



For the last several years of his life, Sheldon suffered from Multiple Sclerosis and was unable to ride his beloved bicycles, yet managed to write an article entitled The Bright Side of MS. But the dominant image I have of him, is that of a young, strong man riding crazy bikes, as captured in his many black and white photos taken with a self timer.



Sheldon Brown was an avid photographer, and the above picture he took of himself has turned out to be chillingly prophetic. The impact he's had on "bicycle culture" is so strong, that three years after his death his presence remains vibrant. I am extremely happy about that. And I thank him for all the help and inspiration he has given me, despite my never having had the privilege of meeting him.

Climbing in the Far Trapps: Footloose (5.8), Fancy Free (5.8+), Casanova (5.9-) & More

(Photo: Past the sketchy bit on Wegetables (5.10a).




It seems like a long time ago, but actually only a few weeks have passed since we enjoyed plentiful groceries, steady electrical power, ample gasoline, and dryness.


And warmth. It was October, atime of beautiful high-season climbing in the Gunks.



I was fortunate enough to climb on one of these gorgeous fall Sundays with Gail.



I reckoned it was going to be crowded so I suggested we walk all the way down to the far end of the Trapps. It seemed like a good day to attack Wegetables (5.10a), a climb I was determined to send in . I had bailed on the lead a year ago but now I was hoping to get it clean. And I figured that once we trooped down to the end of the cliff we'd find lots of other climbs we could check out.



Gail had spent hardly any time down there so she was more than willing.



The walk down the carriage road was beautiful. The leaves were just barely past peak, a chorus of oranges and yellows. The temperature was perfect, neither too cold nor too warm. I decided to hit Wegetables right away. I didn't want to chicken out after struggling through some 5.8.



So we racked up and I went right at it. The bottom part remains a little pucker-inducing for my taste, with a reachy opening move and then this tiny vertical seam the only option for protecting the low crux. I did okay with the pro, or the best I could do, anyway. I thought my nuts were more attractive than Adrian's were last year (COUGH... that's what she said, COUGH). I still did not want to fall on them. But no worries, I was confident in my beta from last time, so the moves were not a problem.







(Photo: Gail working through the opening move on Wegetables.)



I tried to psych myself up to power straight through the upper crux roofs, but I fiddled a bit too long with a cam and ended up taking a hang. I was really pissed off when I realized I'd chickened out just below the last overhang. I had thought there were still two to go. I could have made it.



I rested a minute, then punched through to the top. I'll get it next time.



After Wegetables we took the opportunity to toprope the route next door, Tennish Anyone? (5.10c), a fun short climb. It has an interesting move over a little roof to a horizontal and then a pumpy traverse. I think I could maybe lead it, but during the hard traverse it would be strenuous to place gear. The climb is interesting in that the crux horizontal is just above a little overhang. I thought it would be easier to keep my feet below the overhang, but I struggled in the traverse and had to take. Gail, by contrast, got her feet up above the lip and crab-crawled through the traverse. She made it look much easier.



We were having a good time and there was nobody around so we decided to keep on going in the same area. We did the two obscure no-star climbs Footloose (5.8) and Fancy Free (5.8+). Both of these climbs have short first pitches to fixed anchors. Dick doesn't recommend continuing with the lichen-choked second pitches.







(Photo: Contemplating the awkward move into the bulge on Footloose (5.8).)



I thought Footloose was kind of a waste of time. It has one awkward move up to a little bulge. After that it is a cruise, nice enough but nothing terribly interesting. And the fixed rap station is just a bush. It is alive but it is impossible to judge its strength. I didn't want to use it, so we traversed left over to the Wegetables/Tennish tree. (Even this tree is a bit small for my taste-- we backed it up with a cam the first time we used it.) You could traverse even further. The ledge widens until you find yourself walking off.



While Footloose isn't so hot, Fancy Free is quite worthwhile. Good climbing up a corner leads to an intimidating traverse out a horizontal seam. The handholds for the traverse are tiny crimps and the feet are just smears. It is just a couple of moves to better footholds but the traverse still gave me pause, since even assuming my blue Alien out there was bomber, I was still risking a fall back into the corner. I probably smeared out the traverse for one step too many, making it a touch harder for myself. Gail found a good foothold a couple of steps out that I missed-- if I'd found it I likely would have placed another piece.



I will definitely repeat Fancy Free next time I'm out there. It deserves a star. If only it were longer.







(Photo: Gail working through the first steep bit on Art's Route (5.9).)



We continued our spree of short climbs with Art's Route (5.9). I struggled a bit when I led this earlier this year, but this time around it went off without a hitch. The upper roof crux is all about footwork, forget what I said last time. I really like this little pitch; both cruxes are unique and challenging. I used a knee again to get through the initial mantel, but then Gail discovered some holds on the left wall that I'd completely ignored, which made it possible for her to do the first crux without any mantel at all. It's so often instructive to watch other climbers. To me one of the beauties of climbing is that every problem has multiple solutions. Sometimes the different solutions work for different body types-- and sometimes your partner just finds a hold that makes you look like a moron.



We still had some time left and I thought it would be fun to check out another obscure Far Trapps no-star special. We looked around a bit and came up with two candidates: Counter Strike (5.9) and Casanova (5.9-). Counter Strike looked like it might be fun, but only for the crux traverse, for which both Swain and Williams recommend multiple big cams.



We decided to try Casanova instead. This was a good decision. We both really liked it.



The climb follows an non-obvious line. Dick's description helps. But Dick makes the climbing sound more difficult than it is. He talks about "intricate route finding," but I thought it was pretty clear where to go. Easy climbing leads up to the right side of a small overhang, then after moving a few feet right you head pretty much straight up the face, wandering just a little left or right to keep the face climbing at 5.7. It is pretty apparent where you are going, because the face is slightly cleaner when you are on the right path. You do have to look around, though, and there is no chalk highway there to help you along. This is high-quality classic Gunks face climbing, with good moves between horizontals.









(Photo: Gail at the crux of Casanova (5.9-).)




And then the crux turned out to be a little different than I expected. You move up into some overhangs beneath a larger roof, and then traverse left a few feet to escape the ceiling. I thought it would be nothing but steep jugs but once I got fully into it I was surprised to discover that the holds for the moves left are sandy slopers. The pro is very good but I still went up and down a few times before I fully committed to the slopers and got through it. Exciting!




Be warned that after the crux you find yourself in extremely lichenous territory (as you can see in the photo above), with lots of loose rock. The little ledge beneath the crux also has a bunch of loose stones on it, so be careful. In addition, take note that this pitch is over 100 feet. Dick says you need two ropes to descend, but we moved left to belay at the Emilio tree and Gail's 70 meter single rope just made it to the ground.




Our day was winding down so we decided to head back towards the Uberfall. As we walked out, we looked for a good pitch with which to finish our day. Gail suggested Apoplexy (5.9), and though I wasn't sure I had another 5.9 in me I decided to just go for it. I was psyched when it felt pretty casual. Such a joy. I took my time with it, savoring the moves all the way to the top. In the spring of this was a milestone lead for me, but now it is just a normal climb, well within my limits. It is a good feeling.

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.