More Thoughts on Tandem Riding

I hoped that I'd get over my tandem fever by now, but instead I have only grown more curious. So when local tandemnist Matt O'Keefe offered to take me on an early morning ride, I was there with bells on.Matt and his wife Susi have been riding tandem for years. They have one for the city and one for sport, both of which Matt -production managerat Seven Cycles,and welder at Merlin prior to that -built himself.



A former mountain bike racer, Matt's attitude to cycling is "the less pavement, the better." When we set off, he suggested we do an unpaved loop instead of going on the road. I had no objections.



I was actually very interested in the logistics of how a tandem would work where we were going. The thing about dirt roads in the Boston suburbs, is that they are more like trails: For the most part not technical, but quite narrow - at times claustrophobically so, with a path through the woodsjust wide enough to fit a single bike. They can also be twisty.I was curious how a tandem could be wrangled around corners through some of the trickier spots.



But neither the tight turns along the narrow parts of the path nor the sharply zig-zagging boardwalks across bogs were a problem: Matt steered the long machine with precision through gravel, dirt, mud and sand, over ruts and ditches, and around tight corners. Tandems really can go anywhere! The experience from the stoker's seat was fantastic. All I had to do was pedal, and the huge bike did all this cool stuff under Matt's captaining.



In this vein, I keep mulling over the idea that tandems are a great way to expose cyclists to styles of riding they are not yet comfortable with on their own. They could be a tool not only for couples and friends of disparate abilities, but also for cycling clubs and various organised events. For instance, I can imagine a club event where experienced tandem captains offer stoker spots for tours through gorgeous but tricky terrain. Or a tandem race, with stoker positions open to cyclists who would not race on their own. Just a thought, but it could be great fun... Then again, it could turn out like this. Either way, I am in!

Hubby & Tractor

Even hubby got into the dirt moving business with the tractor.

1st Stop - 1st Breakdown - Connecticut

After a great time with Robin & Bill, we get ready to leave but snow is forcasted so we stay one more night and leave the next day. While traveling down the Westchester Cross Expressway we are enveloped in a cloud of smoke?? No turns out to be steam. Heater Hose broke!



Gary gets it fixed good enough to get off the expressway and we look for a parking lot to pull into. Turn into what looks like a business park parking lot - but is a roadway into a underground parking garage to an enclosed apartment complex. Must unload the car from the tow dolly, disconnect the tow dolly from the RV and back it up and out.

Side Street or Main Street?

Cycling in greater Boston, I alternate between routes that take me along busy roads and routes that take me through quiet side streets. Each option leaves something to be desired. The busy roads are, well, busy - lots of car traffic, lots of action, lots of chaos. But they do seem to have enough room for everyone, including the processions of cyclists that now travel along them more than ever. The side streets are much quieter and greener, but are often too narrow to fit both a car and a bike side by side - resulting in its own set of challenges.

I've mentioned before that when I have close calls or memorably negative encounters with cars, it almost always seems to happen on a side street. But the same is definitely not true for everyone, and a recent post on Let's Go Ride a Bike illustrates why many urban cyclists tend to keep away from busy roads. So I keep wondering what it is that, over time, has made me weary of side streets, whereas others see them as a refuge.

One possibility is that I tend to overcompensate for the danger factor of main streets by being extra-vigilant, extra-focused and extra-careful as a matter of course - expecting the worst from every vehicle out there, and cycling in a way that anticipates that.On the other hand, side-streets lull me into a state of relaxation, because they seem so tranquil and friendly - so when something bad is about happen, I don't see it coming and am less likely to avoid it.

But this factor aside, I also think that drivers are less likely to keep their aggression in check when there are fewer witnesses. On side streets there aren't many people around, and perhaps the drivers with whom I've had confrontations and close calls were well aware of that. A scary thought, to be sure.

What is your take on main streets versus side streets, and what is your preference?

Purse or Pocket?

For as long as I can remember, I have loathed those things that are known as purses: small handbags designed to house not books, laptops or groceries, but tiny personal belongings such as a wallet, phone and keys. Traditionally women have carried purses, because their clothing is not designed with pockets to accommodate these miscellaneous items. Even when pockets exist, their design is not actually useful for storing things without distorting the fit of the garment or even interfering with movement. And so historically, women have carried tiny handbags, seldom experiencing the freedom of walking around empty-handed, the peace of mind of not constantly having to look after one's belongings, and the fun of spontaneous mobility (try running down the street with a purse).



In the twentieth century, some women have taken this up as a feminist issue, refusing to carry a purse out of principle and only buying clothing with well-designed pockets. But for the most part, the purse trend persists, with fashion designers making a fortune on this accessory every season.





For me it's not really a political thing, but I do get frustrated carrying a purse. Over the years I've made an art of finding clothing with proper pockets, or else adding my own pockets to garments. Even for 90°F summer heat, I own skirts and sundresses with cleverly placed pockets for my wallet, keys and phone.



Looking at a friend's vast collection of diminutive handbags one day, I asked why she preferred this method of carrying her things. She replied that this way everything is always in one place, and she need not move it from jacket to jacket as I do. That makes sense - except that she switches from one purse to another on a semi-daily basis, so she still ultimately has to move everything over. But explanations are about subjective perceptions of reality, and this was how she saw it. When I talk of purses being a burden, those who like them probably think it's mostly in my head as well.



I've been thinking about the purse vs pocket issue more since I started cycling. When riding a bike - particularly if that bike is not bolt upright - pocket design presents a special challenge, as contents can spill out more easily than when walking. Clothing that is marketed as cycling-specific, even for commuting, usually features lots of complicated pockets that try to get around this. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. Personally, I find the rear pocket design of the cycling jersey to be an extremely efficient way to carry small items on the bike, and I've wondered what elegant method can be devised to translate this into streetwear and maybe even business-casual attire. Begrudgingly I've ridden my bike with a purse in the basket or strapped to the rear rack now and again, but I always wish for pockets.



I am wondering what my female readers prefer. And does it depend on whether you are on or off the bike?

Newspaper Rock

Along the access road to Canyonlands, thirty miles east of the entrance, Newspaper Rock is a little mystery that will likely never be solved. It is a large slab of rock covered with desert varnish (a blackish manganese-iron deposit that gradually forms on exposed sandstone cliff faces due to the action of rainfall and bacteria) into which have been inscribed numerous petroglyphs. The older images are becoming darker in color as new varnish slowly develops over them. The first carvings were made around 2,000 years ago, although a few are as recent as the early 20th century.

There has been a lot of speculation as to the meanings of the drawings but in fact no one really knows what they mean or why they are in this place. It is in the middle of nowhere. Was this a stopping-off point for native people? Does it have spiritual or religious significance? Is it simply graffiti from a time long past?

Mom :: Before she was Mom

My Mother would have been 83 years old today. I thought that I had seen all of the pictures of her through the years, but amongst her things we found the picture below. I don't know whether it is her or not but it was in the same drawer as her marriage license and certificate.





Whoever it is, she is a cutie! Below are some (okay, a lot of) confirmed photos of Mom. What do you think? Is the above photo my Mother? As always, double-click to view a larger version of the photos.



1928 and 1934

1936 and 1937

1941 and 1942

1943 – fifteen years old – yes, 15!

1944 – sixteen years old

1945 (Junior Prom) and 1946

In May .., for her 80th birthday, I posted some photos of her in her later years.

Angels Landing :: Interlude

Doubts. Terrible things, they are. The longer I stood and looked at that peak, the more dubious I became. Finally, I gave in and turned around. I couldn't do it. Then a feeling of relief passed over me. It's okay. At least I had gotten this far.

The descent back down that first little peak was challenging. Going up you didn't really notice the height or steepness of the path. But coming down, that is all you could see. You had to look down in order to see where you were going. In several spots I sat down on my rear end and scooted over and down the rock. It wasn't pretty, but it got the job done! I didn't feel quite so bad when I saw other people doing the same thing!

Once safely down on the other side, I found a place to sit and eat my lunch, along with several other folks. We chatted. They too were the ones who couldn't go on. They were waiting for their spouse to return from the top of Angels Landing. They weren't ashamed, perhaps a little embarrassed though. Four out of the five people waiting were men. Waiting for their wives to finish the climb.

Other people came and went. Some only went a little ways then came back. Watching the people was fascinating. All shapes and sizes. All degrees of physical fitness. You couldn't tell by looking at someone whether they could do it or not. And you were amazed by some of those that did make it. The more I watched, the more I thought “I could do this.”

But I sat there and listened to the people talking. The excitement in the voices of those who had gone all the way. A bit of disappointment in those who hadn't, but acceptance of that fact also.

There was a group of five women who came up from Scout's Lookout. They sat down and rested for a few minutes and joined in our conversation. One lady, in her mid-30s, was back for a second climb. She had come with her daughters last year and they had all made the climb successfully. The daughters were 8, 11, and 16 years of age.

Another group of four women – two teenagers, a middle aged woman, and an older lady – came up the trail. When the older woman saw the trail over that peak she said “Oh, my!” One of the teenage girls giggled and said “Granny, we love you. You don't really have to go.” And Granny stomped her feet like a little child and exclaimed “Oh no, I'm going!” and without another word, they were on their way.

After an hour or so, I made my way down the trail and back to the campground. I talked with my neighbors, Maryann and Rob, who had done the climb to Angels Landing the previous day. The more I talked with them, the more convinced I became that I could actually do it. Maryann said she had second thoughts about the climb when she saw the trail, but then she looked at the people returning and figured if they could do it, so could she.

The next day was an “off” day for me. My legs were hurting a little so I took it easy. But the thought of Angels Landing kept running through my mind all day long.

To be continued... Angels Landing :: The Finale

Being in Nature

Walking into an outdoor clothing and gear retailer today, we invariably see an expanse of merchandise that is stylised to portray outdoor pursuits as highly technical activities. Fabrics of unnatural textures emitting an otherworldly sheen, colour schemes that don't exist in nature, motifs based on jarring geometric forms, aggressive logo placements - the overall feel is decidedly inorganic. And perhaps that is the key to why I find the aesthetics of today's outdoor industry so disturbing: How can clothing and gear designed for an intimate relationship with our natural surroundings be made in a way that is so at odds with them?



As a teenager in the 1990s I noticed that it disconcerted me to go hiking and see other hikers decked out in this high-tech gear. Watching them move through the landscape, they seemed to be invading nature, not striving to be a part of it. I found myself wondering how long those garments would take to decompose once discarded after a season or two, and what effect their decomposition would have on the beautiful scenery. It particularly disturbed me that outdoor enthusiasts did not seem to be aware of this contradiction. Carrying food and drinks in a myriad of plastic containers, they tramped through meadows and forests clad in aggressively styled garments made of artificial fabrics - an alien presence in their own world.



No doubt as a direct reaction to this I found myself drawn to natural fabrics and materials in everything from clothing, to furniture, to the everyday products I used, and also drawn to aesthetics that harmonised with my surroundings. And early on I felt that content and form went hand in hand here: When a particular aesthetic style becomes popular, it informs what is socially valued. And this has a huge overall impact on what kind of things get made and on how they get made. The aggressive, sporty, techie look has grown absolutely ubiquitous in outdoor gear - so much so that wool outdoor clothing manufacturers looking to become mainstream have taken to imitating the look of artificial fabrics in order to visually convince that their product is equally functional. The fact that what makes wool functional is its natural properties is laughably lost when this tactic is employed.



But recently the outdoor industry has experienced a small but noticeable backlash against the high-tech, and this includes the realm of bicycles and bicycle-related products. The growing public awareness of fringe brands such as Rivendell Bicycle Works and Archival Clothing have made both consumers and manufacturers rethink the aesthetics of an outdoor lifestyle. Some interpret this phenomenon as nostalgia-driven, and some see it as a form of consumer elitism. But I believe there is at least some element here of a rising collective desire for products that are more harmonious with our natural surroundings. Reverting to traditional looks, fabrics and manufacturing processes is simply the byproduct when things are made in this manner. The return of the steel bicycle with the waxed canvas bag is not so much about "re-enactment" as it is about rethinking ways of being in nature.

Berlin Walking Tour: Nikolaiviertel, nearby Alexanderplatz to Am Lustgarten

If there is one thing Dutchman and I agree when travelling together... that would be WALKING. We both love to walk, a lot, except that he walks faster. While I tend to go astray, checking corners, peeking into alleys, a quick stop here, a long pause there. It is neverending. I cannot help myself really and I blame my point and click camera for this.

If I am retired now (wishful thinking I know) I would spend my days taking pictures of places, people and daily life on the streets. I have a quick eye and can right away see countless opportunities and angles to photograph. It gives me a sense of fulfillment being able to capture life, at least in my own way, style and interpretation. Sadly, I do not have the time to do this often because I have a demanding full-time job.

Apart from this (my real life world which clearly revolves around my career), photography, travelling and this blog are my breather. Like literally. They are my escape. I feel at home here.

Let me take you on a walking photo blog tour of a little part of Berlin. From Muhlendamm to Nikolaiviertel (Nikolai Quarter) to Spandauerstrasse to Alexanderplatz to Karl Liebknechtstrasse to Am Lustgarten.

Ready to go?

The view to Nikolaiviertel (Nikolai Quarter) and the Spree (river) from Muhlendamm (Mills Dam).

The Spree and the Berliner Dom.

Statues and gold details on the Ephraim-Palais on Muhlendamm.

Cosy Nikolai Quarter.

Nikolai Church and the Berlin bear.

Alexanderplatz, also called Alex by the locals.

Neptunebrunnen (Neptune Fountain).

The Rathaus (City Hall) and the Berliner Fernsehturm (TV Tower).

The Berliner Dom from the park on Spandauerstrasse.

The Berliner Dom (Berlin Cathedral).

On Karl Liebknechtstrasse.

Schlossplatz.

Altes Museum on Am Lustgarten.

Humboldt Box on Karl Liebknechtstrasse.

Alte National Gallery. Dutchman told me these could be bullet marks on the column.