Mt. Rainier, Tahoma Glacier

We had been wanting to climb the Tahoma Glacier for quite a while and finally got our chance. We started out on a Friday at a locked gate on the Westside Road. Two of us walked while two rode mountain bikes for the first 3.5 miles of the closed section of the old Westside Road. It seems like climbs with long approaches have great scenery along the way. This was no exception. One of the first sights were these towering Columnar basalt cliffs that are hundreds of feet high.



Crossing a footbridge over the South Puyallup River.



Avalanche Lilies growing alongside the trail.



Our objective: the Tahoma Glacier, flowing from the summit down the west side of Rainier. This photo was actually taken after the climb. On our ascent, we had to find our way up the Puyallup Cleaver (left of center) in the fog and wind. We finally climbed out of the fog at the 8,000' level and found a place to bivy. After 2 hours of "sleep," when most people we know were just going to bed, we got up and continued up the cleaver to the 10,000' level. It took quite a while to find a way around the cliffs and down onto the glacier. That's when the real fun began...finding a way through the maze of huge crevasses.



A drop-off on one side and a deep crevasse on the other! Mt. St. Helens in the background.



There were huge crevasses everywhere! Each one is different and amazing. You just want to stand there and look at the layers of snow, icicles and giant features of snow and ice that hang and span from one side to the other. There is nothing like seeing one of these up close and in person.



Our rope team moving up a steep section.



Ron climbing a snow ramp to the upper lip of another big crevasse.



The team crossing a snow bridge to get by another one.



Slow and steady progress on a smooth part of the glacier.



Ron, David, Doug (and Mark) on the summit.



This debris filled crevasse was easy to cross.



We wanted a challenge and we got it! With a low camp and a lot of route finding challenges, we ended up summiting late and then spent a couple of hours on the descent that afternoon postholing up to our knees in soft snow. The 3 quarts of water that we each started out with was not enough. We ate a lot of snow on the way down. We finally made it back down to camp 24 hours after we started! Needless to say, we slept really good that night! Since we summited on Saturday, we were able to take our time getting up and heading out on Sunday. We were all smiles as we headed back down to the treeline, stopping to look back at least a dozen times. This climb starts way lower than most on Rainier and it has a lot of big ups and downs. When we got back to the trailhead, the GPS unit indicated that we had climbed 15,000 vertical feet over a distance of 32 miles. It's no wonder we were tired. It was a weekend well spent making memories with good friends! Out of all the climbs we have done, we all agree that this was one of the best!

Williamsburg VA to Clermont FL

Making a Bicycle Your Own

When getting a bicycle, whether new or vintage, it can be nice to personalise it - to make alterations here and there, so that the bike feels distinctly "ours". I am often asked for advice regarding various aspects of this process, from budget, to component choices, to colour coordination. And while these things are highly personal, there are several general points that I propose keeping in mind.



1. Address functionality and comfort before looks. Prior to buying colourful panniers and covering the bike with flower garlands, make sure the saddle position and handlebar height are properly adjusted for your proportions and postural preference. You may be surprised how much just that factor alone can change the "personality" of the bicycle. And this, in turn, will better inform subsequent aesthetic choices.



2. Personalising the looks of your bicycle need not involve buying lots of costly accessories. Some of the most delightful decorations are also the least expensive. Consider that things like ribbon,faux florals,twine, and stickers can cost mere pocket change. A simple bow in your favourite colour on the handlebars, or some flowers along the edge of your basket, will create an instant, lively transformation. And if you have an old bicycle with scratched up paint? You could turn it into a "zebra bike", "tiger bike", or "bumble bee bike" by wrapping appropriately coloured electrical tape around the frame to create stripes.



Of course, with an older bicycle there is also the option of using paint. You could trylug outlining, hand-painting small panels, or even paintingyour own designs along the entire frame. In Europe I see bicycles hand-painted with flowers, polka-dots, zebra stripes, peace symbols, lady bugs, and all sorts of other simple motifs.A paint pen for lug outlining will set you back around $2. Enamel paint will cost around $6 for a small can.



3. Avoid formulaic accessorising. If you saw it in a magazine or on a popular blog, chances are that so did hundreds of others. Do you really want to spend all that money on limited edition saddles, deluxe grips and exotic tires, just to end up with a bicycle that looks identical to lots of other bikes? Take the time to consider what combination of things would suit you individually, rather than trying to recreate a popular look.



[image via Boston Retrowheelmen]

4. Explore ways to trade and barter with other bicycle owners. The components you no longer want might be just what another person is looking for, and vice-versa. This is considerably more affordable than buying everything new, and can yield interesting results. I acquired some of my best stuff via trades, including saddles, dress guards, a rack, and even an entire bicycle!



In the end, the bicycles that are the most striking and feel the most "yours" are those that reflect your personality - regardless of the budget that went into achieving that.

The North Rim

Early on the morning of May 31st I headed south from Kanab, Utah to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon arriving there less than two hours later. I also gained an hour of time because Arizona is the only state in the lower 48 that does not change to Daylight Savings Time.

The first hour of the drive was through the desert but as you gain elevation, the terrain changes to one of high meadows and forests of tall pine trees with aspen mixed in. It was so pretty and so different from the approach to the South Rim!

My first stop was the campground. Once again, at the registration station the “Campground Full” sign was posted and once again I asked and once again I got lucky! I could have one of the few available sites for the night. After putting my “tag” on the site post I went to the visitors center then went for a walk along the Bright Angel Point Trail (less than half a mile in length) and a portion of the adjoining Transept Trail, which takes you to the campground. I didn't take many pictures because of the lighting conditions (southerly sun and hazy blue skies).

Looking towards the South Rim. This was taken later in the evening on my second walk along the Bright Angel Point Trail.

That afternoon, I drove along the scenic road to Point Imperial, Vista Encantada, and Cape Royal. It was a beautiful drive. I stopped at all the view points and walked the short trails. Unlike the South Rim, there were very few people. Even though the campground was full and the Lodge had no vacancies, the crowds of the South Rim were nonexistent.

Along the Point Imperial Trail. Elevation 8803 feet. The highest point on the North Rim. On a clear day you can see the Vermillion Cliffs off in distance to the northeast.

Along the Cape Royal Trail.

The view from Cape Royal. Freya Peak is in the foreground with a little bit of the Colorado River in the distance off to the left. Taken with the 7x zoom fully extended. Apparently (according to a sign at Cape Royal) this is the only place on the North Rim where the Colorado River can be seen. At this point the river is 70 miles below Lees Ferry - the site from which all points on the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon are measured.

No Paratrooper Training Required

When I saw the Pashley Parabike and Penny at Interbike last year, I was not sure what to make of them. "What are they for and how do they ride?" were my questions. This summer Pashley sent a pair to Harris Cyclery for me to try, and I still struggle to find the words to describe them. One thing is certain: These bikes have little in common with the Roadster and Princess models the brand is known for. I will write about each separately (Penny review now posted here).






In a sense the Pashley Parabike is a replica of the WWII-era BSA Parabike, also known as the Airborne. But unlike Pashley's remake, the original Parabike was a folder. Here is one I was lucky enough to see in person - hinged and cleverly constructed, albeit monstrously heavy. Paratroopers would jump out of planes with the bikes strapped to their backs, then re-assemble them once on the ground and ride away. They must have been very strong, those fellows.






I'll be honest here: The fact that Pashley copied the look and even the military colour scheme of the Airborne but not the folding functionality, biased me against the new Parabike at the start. I suspected it was mostly decorative and intended for military paraphernalia enthusiasts. But as the bike went into distribution I started hearing positive things about it, and so I tried to keep an open mind.






If I let go of my "but it doesn't fold like the original!" grudge, I have to admit the construction is interesting. Pashley calls this a "duplex-tube" frame. In place of the top tube and down tube are sets of twin stays, like on a mixte.The frame construction, from what I can tell, is very similar if not identical, to the Tube Rider and the (no longer produced?) Paramount models, save for the colour scheme.






The upper and lower sets of stays curve away from each other, giving the frame a balloon-like appearance. The whole thing is brazed cro-moly steel.





Lugged fork crown.






There are little bridges, connectors and braze-ons everywhere, arranged in a way that manages to not make the frame look busy.







The construction around the bottom bracket is interesting and complicated.








I am guessing the purpose is to provide extra support for the lower set of stays.




The seatpost is quick release. The aged Brooks B67 is the stock saddle. There are fenders and braze-ons for a rear rack, though no rack is included.





Chainguard.






Braze-ons for one water bottle cage.






Mildly swept-back handlebars with short, raised stem.







Faux cork grips, hub brakes, Sturmey-Archer 5-speed hub. I don't have a good close-up picture of this, but the frame has horizontal dropouts with a derailleur hanger.





The Parabike is one size only, described as 19". The wheels are 26" with 1.75" Schwalbe Marathon tires. Basic Stronglight crankset with platform pedals. No toe overlap with my Eur 38 sized shoes.





I test rode the Parabike over the course of several miles, and mechanic Jim (pictured here) rode it briefly as well. We agreed it is a cool bike, and we agreed that it's hard to describe. But let me try. Two main impressions stuck with me. One is the excellent ride quality over bumps - by far cushier than the Pashley Princess I used to own. Not that the Princess was harsh; it just wasn't impressively cushy compared to, say, Dutch bikes. The Parabike, on the other hand, felt like butter over potholes. While its tires are a bit wider, I don't think that is enough to account for the different feel. It could it be the springiness of the "duplex tubes." The other impression I was left with was that of maneuverability and zippiness. The handling is all together un-roadsterlike, with greater agility and what I think is a lower center of gravity. The bottom bracket is lower, the rider does not sit up as high, and overall the bike comes across as being rather compact. Of the bicycles I've tried so far, the Parabike rides most similarly to the city bikes with mountain bike heritagegroup. However, it is a more compact and lighter-weight bike.





Stepping over the Parabike in a skirt wasn't elegant, but doable. With true diamond frames I tend to be clumsy in this regard, but the curve here makes it a bit easier to lean and step over without having to swing my leg over the back. The fit of the 19" frame felt pretty much ideal for me, though on my own bike I would lower the handlebars.



The main problem I see with the Pashley Parabike is its identity. I like how the bike rides, but I am still not sure what it is for. I think the handling and durability (hub brakes and gears, tough powdercoat) would make it a great transportation bike - including in winter climates and seaside locations. But for a transportation bike, it is missing the rather crucial lights and racks. Although eyelets for a rear rack are provided, it will be difficult to find a suitable model for a bike so unique-looking- a topic I'vecovered before. I wonder whether Pashley has plans to design a rack specifically for the Parabike, or at least to source one that looks appropriate. An option with dynamo lighting would also be welcome. Of course if the bike is intended mainly for recreation, these practical considerations are less important. But then the hub brakes and fenders and chainguard seem overkill to me - I'd be tempted to strip it down, lighten it up, and ride it on trails.






Finally, to return to the Parabike's historical reference: Admittedly, I have not actually ridden an original BSA Airborne Parabike. But there is nothing about Pashley's remake that reminds me of a vintage bike other than the look. The ride quality feels distinctly modern - 90s mountain-bikey, in a good sort of way. It is a neat bike that is fun to ride, and the visual/historical aspect adds a layer to it that I don't quite know what to do with or where to fit into this write-up. It's as if the two things are entirely separate.




Pashley bikes are hand-built in Stratford-upon-Avon, England. The Parabike is available in "ash green" (shown here) or "dusk blue" - a dusty indigo. Current price is $1,195. Both the Parabike and Penny demo bikes are available for test rides at Harris Cyclery in West Newton, MA. A separate write-up about the Penny is forthcoming.

Nomic Hammers?

I have now actually seen the newest lwt Petzl hammer for the Nomic.
Nice bit of kit. But from that I have decided to do a new run of the Cold
Thistle hammers. Started that process today but the decision wasn't made lightly. There is easily room for all three styles of hammers imo. Shipping of this production run will start in early September. I always sell out so place your orders early. I've also tweaked the design so you no longer have to modify the picks. The Cold Thistle hammer is now "drop in" and a bit more durable if you really have to bang on a pin.



You can pre order hammers for September delivery by PAY PAL @ $60 US $ per hammer *shipping included world wide* on the pre orders. I'll immediately refund the automatic shipping Pay Pal will charge.

Nomic/Petzl options

1 hammer $60.00 USD 2 hammers $120.00 USD 4 hammers $225.00 USD Canadian shipping + $10.00 USD Euro/Asia/ROW ship + $15.00USD

Petzl's two different hammer versions for the Nomic/Quark/Ergo









Cold Thistle Hammers

The Paradox of Long Rides

Since describing my overnight ride to Maine last week, I've received an unexpected amount of correspondence from readers who feel drawn to long bike rides, but aren't sure they can handle them physically. The only other time I've had such a volume of email, was after my 100 mile ride along the Danube last Autumn - a similar theme. There is considerable interest out there in long distance cycling among those who love bikes but are not necessarily athletic.




Here is an excerpt from an email from Barbara that sums up the sentiment nicely:




"...[I am] not a strong cyclist, but I just loved your description of riding to Maine in the moonlight. I want to do a ride like this so much, it makes me want to cry! Can the weaklings among us experience a similar journey, or am I a hopeless romantic?"




This resonated with me, because it pretty much expresses my own point of view. I love the idea of covering long distances by bicycle, of experiencing beauty and adventure along the way,of bonding with companions as our wheels hum and our headlights illuminate the road. In my imagination, I do not envision this as an athletic activity or an endurance event. Ideally, it would be just a very long bike ride.




And therein lies the paradox: Yes, it is possible to experience long distance cycling from this perspective. But in order to do so, we have to get to the point where we are strong enough, so that a 100+ mile ride feels like a fun adventure and not like a physical feat we've just barely managed to survive. And this, in turn, means working up to it and getting in shape for it.




How is this different from just riding? I suspect there is more than one answer. But the way I interpret it, the crucial difference is that the rides are more structured - with the goal of building up miles, speed, and time in the saddle. Prior to last summer, I never followed any kind of structure, hoping that my endurance and handling skills would just build up organically, inspired by the joy of riding alone. I am sorry to say that this did not happen. Only when I started taking part in club rides,met experienced riding partners,and adapted a more focused approach, did I undergo significant improvements. The structure and discipline changed my body, ultimately giving me more freedom. This may not be the path for everyone, but I am being honest about what it's been like for me.




While the readers who contacted me about long distance riding did so seeking some form of insight, it was in fact I who ended up gaining insight from them; insofar that they helped me recognise this contradiction. I am sometimes asked what my goal in roadcycling is. And I think that my goal, if any, is to get to the point where riding long distance is entirely about the journey and the scenery, not about overcoming physical limitations. But I am willing to work on overcoming those limitations in order to get to that point.

Cycling and Statistics

As someone with a background in the social and natural sciences, I was "raised" on statistics by the academic system. If we compare academia to religion, then making claims without statistical evidence is akin to taking the Lord's name in vain. But even beyond academia, we have an inherent faith in statistics as a culture. We respect numbers and charts, and we turn to them for comfort at times of uncertainty. Consider, for instance, this beautiful bar graph:



Now, some of us may have suspected that diamond frames tend to be ridden by men, whereas step-throughs and mixtes tend to be ridden by women, but only numbers and graphs have the power to lift us from the murky waters of speculation. We can now say that, in a recent poll conducted by Lovely Bicycle, of the 221 respondents who claimed to ride mainly diamond frame bikes for transportation, 76% were male. Of the 95 respondents who claimed to ride mainly step-through bikes for transportation, 80% were female. And of the 39 respondents who claimed to ride mainly mixte bikes for transportation, 66% were female. This numerical evidence we can wield like a mighty weapon the next time someone contradicts these tendencies.



Of course the one little problem with Statistics, is that it's mostly BS. In the words of comedian Vic Reeves, "88.2% of Statistics are made up on the spot" - which may very well be the case. But numbers need not be maliciously forged in order to misrepresent reality. There are multitudes of ways in which a study can be flawed or biased from the start, set up so as to elicit particular responses. Often this is done unintentionally, or at least unconsciously, by researchers eager to find evidence for their pet theories. Other scenarios can include how data is processed, or even how the final results are presented. Statistics are highly prone to human error and bias, which means that they are inherently subjective. This, combined with the fact that we respect them so much, makes our statistics-loving culture susceptible to misinformation.



[image via NHTSA]

The idea of statistics and misinformation brings me to what I really wanted to talk about here, and this is something I've been trying to make sense of for a while. I am puzzled by the use of safety statistics in bicycle advocacy, and I am hoping that someone could explain them to me. For example, many bicycle advocacy talks and internet presentations stress that it is safer to ride a bike than it is to travel in a car. In support of this, they use statistics such as this data from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA), according to which there were about 30,000 motor vehicle traffic fatalities, and about 600 bicycle fatalities in the USA in . These numbers are used by cycling advocates to point out how much safer it is to cycle than to drive. But unless I am missing something, the figures mean just the opposite.



Yes, the NHTSA numbers suggest that in there were 50 times more motor vehicle fatalities than there were bicycle fatalities in the US. But those numbers mean nothing until they are weighed against how many cars vs bicycles there are on the roads at large. If there were 50 times more cars on the road than bicycles, than the risks of fatal traffic accident would be equal for each mode of transportation. But I believe that in actuality, there are more like 1,000 more cars on the roads than bicycles... which means that the number of cycling fatalities is disproportionately high.



Obviously, I am not trying to prove that cycling is unsafe. ButI do want to understand the reality of the situation. After all, if cycling advocates use statistics incorrectly, they open themselves up to some very harsh critique from unfriendly forces. Where could one go to obtain accurate statistics about the number of cars vs bicycles on the roads, and the number of traffic accidents for each?

A Tropical "Paradise"

Here is my tropical fountain at night surrounded with plumerias, cycads, pygmy date palms, and an Abyssinian banana.