Mount Rainier :: Perfect Timing!

Tuesday, September 14th - - It was mid-morning when I finally entered the southwestern side of Mount Rainier National Park. The morning had not been hopeful, awakening to cloudy skies once again. But luck was with me and as I drove toward the park the sun appeared and burned away the clouds. Quite a welcome change from my previous visit of a week ago, which was basically a drive-thru since I couldn't see anything at all due to the clouds, the fog, and the rain!

I forget the name of this creek but it was only a few miles into the park and it was the first view I had of Mt Rainier. Breathtaking.

This is a little further into the park. When the roads were constructed through the park the engineers took into account the “viewing pleasure” of the public and I must say they did an excellent job in selecting the sites for the viewpoints.

A couple of close-ups of the top of the mountain.

Probably the most visited area of the park is in the south-central part. It was about 12:30 in the afternoon when I arrived in Paradise and, as you can see, the clouds had moved in. I spent some time in the visitors center at Paradise - looked at the exhibits, viewed the park movie, then looked through the telescopes and saw three climbers halfway up the mountain.

The mountain played peek-a-boo with the clouds, but they eventually completely blocked out the view. I joined some of the other visitors on a short walk along one of the many trails in the area.

Mount Rainier and me!

Winded

I remember in elementary school art class, our first assignment was to "draw the wind." The class was divided in their interpretation: Half drew an old man with long gray hair floating up in the sky and blowing gray swirly clouds; the other half drew trees swaying. I was one of the few who drew something weird - I think it was little animals running for cover amidst fallen flowers. The teacher wasn't pleased at all with my creativity and told me to look at the other children's pictures. But I never did get the hang of it.




Today I came close to crashing on my bike, and it was all the wind's fault. Well no, it was my fault. But it happened because it was windy. I was riding my roadbike alone and practicing leaning on turns, when suddenly a strong gust of wind blew in the direction of my lean. It had not occurred to me that such a thing could happen, but of course there is no reason it can't. It was an alarming sensation, as if someone was maliciously shoving me, trying to topple me on a turn. I was already leaning, and the gust of wind made the lean feel out of control.




Naturally, I panicked and tried to straighten the bike - in the middle of the turn, while simultaneously braking. As a result the bike became unstable, and then all I could think to do was attempt to bring it to an abrupt stop without letting it fall. I hit the brakes and came off the saddle at an awkward angle, holding on to the handlebars tightly and managing to keep the bike upright. Overall it was fine, except as my left foot landed on the ground, my right foot remained on the pedal and I twisted my ankle slightly. It's not swollen, but it hurts a little. Damn.




Of all the ways I could injure myself on a bike, it figures that it would be something ridiculous like this. Why did I have to panic and get all squirrely? Until today I haven't had that sort reaction in a long time. I guess what scared me is that the situation was entirely new. I know at this point how to right a bike if the front wheel hits a pothole, if another cyclist hits me with their elbow as they pass, or if I need to swerve around an obstacle. But the wind pushing me into a lean was unexpected and I didn't know what to do. In retrospect I should have just gone with it - I don't think the wind was strong enough to actually push me all the way to the ground. But of course that's easy to say now. Well, I hope my ankle is okay and I can ride tomorrow. I am trying to figure out what lesson there is to be learned from this, but more than anything I am just super annoyed at myself. And the wind.

In Japantown

The Peace Pagoda in Japantown, San Francisco.

Annette Lake & Silver Peak

It was a warm 4th of July at Annette Lake. We could see trout swimming near the shore.

Tania, Michael, Michelle, Danielle, Becky, Bethany, Tina and Doug.





A gang of bloodthirsty mosquitos chased us up the mountain.





Traversing around the summit block.



Michael, Tania, Danielle, Bethany (and Doug) on top of Silver Peak.

Boot-ski race on the way down.

Choosing an Upright Saddle: Brooks B72 vs Brooks B66

The Brookssaddles most typically fitted on upright bicycles are theB72 and the B66 (the B67 is the same model as the B66, only made for modern seatposts). Having ridden on both, I like each of them very much and cannot say that one is "better" than the other. For me it depends on the bicycle - or more specifically, on my experience of the bicycle.

I had a brownBrooks B66 S ("S" indicates the shorter, women's version) on my previously-owned Pashley Princess, which I rode for over a year. And I recently bought the same saddle for my vintage Gazelle.

I haveBrooks B72 saddles on two of my current bicycles: a brown one on my Royal H. mixte, and a black one on my Bella Ciao 3-speed. (I have also owned several vintage B72s, but will leave those out of this discussion).

[image compiled from brooksengland.com]

To get a good sense of the differences in dimensions, I've compiled the specs from Brooks into a single chart. You can see that the B72 is very slightly wider than the B66 models (though a 4mm difference is negligible). The B72 is a unisex saddle and does not come in separate male and female versions; its lengthis in between the male and female B66.The B72 is lighter and has less height to it, because its springs are tighter and smaller than the springs on the B66. Unlike the B66 models, the B72 is available in black and brown only.

In terms of experiencing the saddles, the main differences are the springs, the shape, and the texture. The B66 has large springs that provide quite a bit of suspension. The texture of the saddle's surface is pebbled. And the edges - including the sides and the nose - are rounded. To me, these features make the B66 particularly comfortable on a bolt-upright, heavy city bicycle. The substantial springs provide excellent cushiness when most of my weight rests on the saddle. The pebbled texture keeps me from sliding around. And the rounded edges make it easier to slide off the bicycle when dismounting - which is convenient when making frequent stops in the city. On the other hand, when I try the B66 on sportier bicycles (with lower handlebars and steeper geometry), I find some of these comfort features distracting: The springs are too much and the pebbled texture is annoying when I am always shifting on the saddle.

In comparison to the B66, the B72 seems like a more versatile saddle to me. The B72's springs are tighter and smaller - still providing suspension, but not to the extent that it interferes with a more forward lean. The surface of the B72 is smooth and the edges are squarely tapered - which I find more comfortable for long distance cycling, during which I slide around on the saddle more, but get off the bike less frequently.

While both saddles are great for upright bicycles, for me the B72 works better on the more sporty variety, whereas the B66 works better on the super-relaxed ones. As they say, your mileage may vary. If you have tried both models and have a preference for one over the other, please share your experiences.

We're Doing It Wrong

image by Peter Drew via Carlton Reid

This drawing has been passed around the bicycle blog circuit lately.Having started out as street art, it was then made into a stencil that's been used for t-shirts and posters. "Can street art get more people on bikes?" asks one blog, using this image as an example of an enthusiastic "yes."



So here is a question I've been wanting to ask for a long time: Why do some cyclists enjoy calling drivers fat and generally framing bicycling within a fat vs skinny value system? Are they the same people who called other kids "fatty" in the school yard as children, and is bicycle activism a platform they've found for the same behaviour to be acceptable as adults? Because that is how such images and messages can come across to non-cyclists - particularly those on the heavy side. And how do you suppose a heavy cyclist feels seeing this sort of thing - where do they fit in?



I think the only people who will find the above image appealing are those who are fit bicyclists and are proud of their bodies, which they attribute to riding a bike. But by the general population, cyclists are widely perceived as judgmental, self-righteous bullies who are also cheepskates, and this image pretty much feeds right into that. If we want to actually inspire others, as opposed to congratulate ourselves, then perhaps a different strategy is called for. There is enough body dysmorphia in our society without cyclists instilling more neuroticism and insecurity about people's weight.

Lighthouse framed in ice

This is the result of last night's high winds and waves. The blowing spray from the waves froze onto these shrubs along the Grand Marais harbor. It wasn't a very big area that was covered in ice like this, but nonetheless I had a blast photographing there. I tried several different angles to compose the ice around the lighthouse, this was my favorite. Captured with my Canon 100-400mm lens.

Large Rock Avalanches on the Nisqually

OK, folks, there're some major rock avalanches happening on the Nisqually Glacier. Anyone venturing near the Nisqually or even traversing across it lower down to get across to the Fan should read this post. We're not talking about a bunch of rocks, but many thousands of tons of debris in a 50' wall of snow, ice, water, dust, and rock coming down the glacier that would outrun anything in its path.


Rangers, climbers, and guides at Camp Muir first were aware when these series of slides started on the 24th of June. Rangers reported feeling the earth shake and hearing a very loud rumble. Indeed, you can tell from extent of airborne dust in the picture above that it must have been loud. Shortly after the slide occurred, the geologists at the Cascades Volcano Observatory called us and asked us what was up. Below is the seismograph reading during the event.Here's a quote from one of the original emails between the NPS and USGS. - "FYI about 10 minutes ago the climbing rangers at Camp Muir saw what they all described as the biggest icefall they've ever seen come off the Nisqually. A guide party at 8,000 ft on the Wilson glacier reported that it had multiple fingers & traveled down to about 7,800 ft. They also described it as the biggest icefall they've ever seen anywhere.
The rangers at Muir described the debris as a mix of rock & ice and being about 50 feet thick but couldn't judge the acreage covered as it is hard to see the entire run-out zone from Muir. " from Ranger Ben Guttridge.

After I heard about the slide, and saw it from my house in Packwood, I decided to hop in my airplane and take a ride towards the mountain to get some pictures as close as I could.


All in all, there have been three slides of this size in the last two days. Right now, we don't recommend crossing the Nisqually Glacier at all - although at this time, the park has not declared a "closure" of the area. If you are intent on doing the Kautz Glacier route, think about accessing the base of the route by Comet Falls trailhead. Click on this link for a Google Earth KMZ file of the approximate extent of the series of avalanches. Also, here is the screenshot of this file from Google Earth.

Cuties

Recovering nicely from their operations.

Ginger (L) is the boy and George is the girl. Clearly, sexing kittens is not among our talents. They laugh at us at the vet's office.

"Ginger Baker!" I want to yell. "George Sand! Rebel cats who'll never conform to your archaic provincial notions of gender roles!"

Anyway, now they are both "fixed".

Looks like I'll be really busy between now and Christmas, filling soap orders. My dreams are filled with boxes and tape. Visions of shrinkwrap, bubble fill and packing peanuts dance in my head.

It doesn't feel normal, not having the time to write here or to visit other blogs. I miss being able to record the small things. It's been dry... it rained... but not enough... the swamp area is almost completely drained... there were four huge male turkeys in the backyard... I snuck out of the craft show to see part of the Veteran's Day parade and was surprised to become so emotional... Mom's been here, helping me wrap soap. See you later.

Organizing Stuff? Here's a Good Deal on Plastic Totes!

Not sure if this is just an individual store deal (Fort Wayne) or nationwide but I just got a really good deal on storage totes at Staples. They have them online at $16.49 each, however, I just purchased several of them today in-store for $7.99 each! And may purchase more when I go back to Fort Wayne on Friday. Hopefully they will still have them and at the sale price. Oddly enough, I think the "everyday" in-store price was $14.49 though I can't imagine why they would cost $2 more if purchased online.

It has slots inside, along all sides at the top, so it can hold hanging file folders. Because of the slots, the outside dimensions are a little bit bigger than the standard legal/letter cardboard "Banker's Box".

Staples Letter/Legal File Box
Snap-tight lid keeps contents secure. Space saving stackable design.
Made out of durable polypropylene. Holds both letter and legal files.
Clear with a clear lid. 10 7/8"H x 18 7/8"W x 18 1/4"D

Spectator Sport

"So I hear you are into cyclocross," said Martina from Clever Cycles as we chatted on the second day of Interbike. I responded with genuine amazement. "Me, into cyclocross? What makes you say that?" And then I remembered that I'd spent the previous evening live-posting a continuous stream of blurry snapshots from Cross Vegas - "the biggest cyclocross race in America." I gave up two other industry events to attend this thing. I guess it did seem like I was pretty into it! But as I was quick to explain, I am only interested in watching, not racing. In fact, of all the forms of cycling out there, cyclocross is the one I am least likely to actually take part in (it combines every aspect of cycling I am terrible at!). Moreover, I had never before been able to tolerate - let alone enjoy - watching sports of any kind. So what makes cyclocross so appealing?






As it happens, Molly Hurford has just written a book that seeks to answer that very question. It's called Mud, Snow, and Cyclocross: How Cross Took Over US Cycling. Having borrowed a copy from the Ride Studio Cafe library, I finished it just days before Interbike. Aside from providing historical context, Hurford's book helped me make sense of my own feelings toward this bizarre sport. As race promoters all over the country have discovered, cyclocross is in many ways the perfect spectator event. And so I thought it might be interesting to describe it from the point of view of someone who is purely a spectator - and a fairly clueless one at that.






To do this, I will backtrack to last year's Interbike, where it all started. I had zero interest in attending Cross Vegas, but tagged along with Chris Kostman, who insisted I should at least stop by ("Come on, you can't go to Interbike and not see this!"). We drove to a giant field on the outskirts of town filled with tipsy people and flooded with electric light. In the distance I could see a colourful blur of bicyclists making their way through an elaborate obstacle course. As the sounds of cowbells and screams filled my ears, I remember wondering: "What am I doing here?" Five minutes later I was leaning over a barrier, ringing a cowbell and having a shockingly great time. And that's pretty much your typical "my first time watching 'cross" story. No one intends to like it, but inevitably they do.






This year we arrived to the spectacle of Elvis performing on stage before the start of the elite races.






Visitors wandered around purchasing water, beer and cowbells.






Cyclists rode around the grass warming up. Bicycles were being adjusted.






Before the crowds became too dense, I got the chance to survey the empty course. Winding around the grassy field, it did not look too technical, though there were lots of tight turns and a couple of short steep hills.





And, of course, these. I still remember how stunned I was when I first saw the riders hop right over them without breaking stride. How is this possible?







And then the race began. First the women's elite race; the mens would be next. Watching the hoard of riders charge cross the start line, the excitement of it all came back to me. I got goosebumps.





The thing is that at a cyclocross race, you can stand so close that you feel the energy of the riders wash over you like a wave.





And this wave is not some abstract poetic concept. It is very real, visceral. Even if you know nothing about race tactics and don't follow the background stories of any of the riders - just standing there and feeling so much human power and speed happening inches from your own body is a physical rush.





Watching track racing is more abstract in comparison, because the riders are further away. And with road racing you can only witness a small portion of the course at a time. But with cyclocross, all is laid out right in front of you in close proximity. The course winds around the spectators; it intertwines with them. There is a feeling that everything is happening everywhere, all at once.





Pressed against the barrier, I can see the riders' flushed faces, gritted teeth, twitching fingers, razor-burned legs. The physicality and rawness of it are overwhelming.





And then there are the technical parts that differentiate cyclocross from other forms of cycling. The obstacles, the vertical uphills, the dismounts and remounts, the bouts of running with the bike. No matter how graceful the rider, there is an intimate awkwardness to these struggles that makes us feel as if we are witnessing something private that perhaps we are not supposed to be witnessing.






Equally intriguing, is when a group of riders is so synchronised in their movements, that the dismounts and remounts appear to be done in choreographed unison - like a staged ballet.





And of course there are things like this - at which point it is the crowd's chorus of gasps that seems choreographed.






Watching first the women's, then the men's race, I noticed differences. The men stuck in larger, tighter clusters while the women were more strung out after the first lap. There were also difference in demeanor and body language - too subtle to describe, but nonetheless there. Watching the two races were separate experiences.






As the lead group of riders made its way through the course, spectators would rush to position themselves in different spots. This too was interesting to watch.






Through the elbows of others, I could see the anticipatory face of each rider as they crossed the finish line.






What struck me was how much they seemed to be savouring the moment, rather than rushing through it. There was a performative, theatrical element to it.






Photographers were everywhere, capturing the action with impressive lenses and flash units. John Watson's Cross Vegas photos on Prolly is Not Probably are especially worth a look.






While my low-light snapshots are far from professional quality, they do reflect my experience of the event as a spectator: dark and chaotic, punctuated with bursts of light and blurs of colour.






I am not sure whether any of this really explains what makes watching cyclocross fun. It is an evasive quality, but ultimately it is about entertainment - genuine entertainment. You don't even have to like sports or racing to enjoy it - though you might surprise yourself by developing a taste for beer and cowbells.






Accessible and awe-inspiring in equal measure, cyclocross strikes the perfect balance between a country fair, a bicycle race, and an alcohol-fueled block party. While the circus of Cross Vegas examplifies this more than typical races, it truly is the ultimate spectator sport.