Putting Your Foot Down

Enough people have asked me about this now that I thought it worth writing about: How do I put a toe down in traffic while remaining on the saddle, and also manage to get full leg extension on the downstroke? I will try to explain.



First off, let me clarify that I get "more or less" full leg extension, and obviously my leg would be even straighter if I had the saddle higher. So there is a bit of give and take to it. But the idea that your leg needs to be arrow-straight on the downstroke with the toe on the pedal and the heel raised, is not one that everyone subscribes to - especially not cyclists in cities where riding a bike for transportation is common. In Vienna, I would say that about half the cyclists I saw had their saddles adjusted so that they could touch the ground with a toe. Based on the pictures here, this seems to be the case in Copenhagen as well. When riding in cities with frequent intersections and stop signs, it can be tedious to get on and off the bike every 3 minutes. Being able to put a toe down makes things easier.



Another point, is that some bicycles' geometries work better for this than others: Typically, Dutch-style city bicycles have very relaxed seat tube angles, which increases the distance between the saddle and the pedals while keeping the saddle height constant. A lower bottom bracket helps as well, though not as much as a slack seat tube. You can watch this video of Dottie starting and stopping on her bike to get a better idea of how this works on a Dutch bike.



Finally, this may not be sufficiently noticeable in pictures, but I lean my bike to the side in order to reach the ground with a toe. I also keep my other foot on the pedal for balance. I cannot reach the ground with both toes, and I cannot even really reach with one toe unless I lean. This is something that becomes instinctive if you do it often enough. Alternatively, you could set the saddle lower. I've basically raised mine as far as I possibly can, while still managing to reach with one tip-toe while leaning.



Adjusting your saddle so that you can stop with a toe down is mainly about convenience. Some cyclists prefer this method, while others feel that not having their leg 100% straight on the downstroke robs them of power. How do you stop in traffic when cycling for transportation? And is it the method you've always used, or did you develop it after some trial and error?

Saguaro in the Sonoran

A huge saguaro cactus in the Sonoran desert of Arizona.

Larger Continent, Longer Trips, Hotter Days, Grandiose Daydreams

Having just returned from abroad, many important matters were on the agenda. Naturally, one of them was a trip to Harris Cyclery. The shop is 9 miles from our place and the temperature was over 100F, but nothing could deter me from going on a ride after sitting still in a airplane for hours.

Good thing the Co-Habitant had those two bottles on his bike, because the heat and humidity were brutal. In Vienna I had gotten used to taking many short trips throughout the day and almost forgot that "commuting" and "errands" in Boston are a bit different. But I am clearly in better shape now than I was even a couple of months ago: The 18 mile round trip to Harris Cyclery used to feel like a "pilgrimage," but now it's just a casual trip.

As for the sun and heat, these are my solutions. Over the past year, I have been trying to switch to natural hygiene products: essential oils instead of perfume, herbal deodorant instead of aluminum-based antiperspirant, and mineral-based sunblock. It has not been easy. In Vienna I've finally found Eco Cosmetics SPF 30, which I love. Its only active ingredient is titanium (to which I am, thankfully, not sensitive) and the rest is herbal moisturisers. It works perfectly and is soothing on the skin. Finding a deodorant was even more challenging, but I've finally found the Queen Helene Tea Tree Oil Deodorant Stick. It works for me as well as the real stuff, and I like that it has a dry, matte texture, as I hate the feeling of sticky roll-ons. So there - if you are looking for natural ways to deal with sun and heat, these have worked for me. On the ride to Harris I neither got sunburnt nor had a "deodorant failure".

At the bike shop I picked up a couple of things I had been meaning to get, and also something unexpected: They had a stack of boxes with clipless shoes on clearance, and I bought these for $25.

They are SPD shoes that can be worn either with cleats attached on clipless pedals, or as regular shoes on platform pedals. I know, I know - I was just making fun of the Co-Habitant for getting clipless shoes and pedals. But I will explain that these aren't for any of my regular bikes; they are to practice for the velodrome (I plan to get a license when I return to Vienna in November). I brought a vintage frame back from Austria for fixed gear conversion, and I will need to put a foot retention system on it and finally force myself to learn. I did not plan to buy the shoes so soon, but here they were in just my size and at a great price - so now I have them.

Clipless shoe love? I don't know. The Co-Habitant was victorious as I made my purchase, suggesting which pedals I should get to go with the shoes (and me vehemently disagreeing). Later in the day, I wore the shoes (without cleats) on a 26 mile ride, just to see how they felt or regular pedals. Frankly, I am not in love with the super-stiff soles. I like moderately stiff soles, but these felt like overkill and detracted from comfort. Is this degree of stiffness an acquired taste that you get used to gradually? And I wonder whether the "ugly as sin but comfortable" Keen sandals everyone is getting have a similar feel to them?

In any case, I have my bike project plate so full at the moment, that it is comical. In the coming weeks, we will finally build up my Royal H mixte, make some much-anticipated updates to my Raleigh DL-1, and oh yes, create a fixed gear bicycle. Stay tuned, and try to stay sane in the heat!

Sky Fire

Sunset clouds in Grand Portage, MN on August 8, .

Gunks Routes: CCK Direct (5.9)

(Photo: A free soloist-- obviously not me!-- on the famous white billboard face of CCK in August .)



One year ago in mid-March I was more fit than I'd been in a long time. But I was still tentative on the rock as the year began. I remember stumbling my way up Te Dum (5.7) for my first climb of the season, with the rock and the gear both feeling mysterious to me after the long, snowy winter.



I hoped this year would be different. I'd grown so much as a climber over the course of . And this year we didn't really have much of a winter. There was no huge layoff between climbing days.



I was encouraged about my prospects when I got out to climb on February 1. On that day I felt fine, romping up several moderates on what might turn out to be my last day in the Gunks with Adrian. (In an act of unspeakable betrayal he moved back to Vancouver at the end of February.)



I didn't push any limits that day but the rock felt good, the gear familiar. Was it possible that maybe I could begin this season where I left off last year, and not regress several grades?



I got the chance to find out for sure on Saturday, March 17, when I went climbing in the Gunks with Dana Bartlett.



Dana and I had never met in person before, but we had corresponded by email. I was already familiar with him from his regular contributions to gunks.com and mountainproject.com. I knew him to be a strong climber of long experience. I hoped we'd have a good time together and that I might learn a thing or two.



I was feeling good on Saturday morning, having climbed a bit the day before. It had been a crummy day on Friday, starting with rain, then fog and wet rock, finally drying out and becoming nice in the late afternoon. I was out with my friend Franz, who has climbed inside for years but who has almost no outdoor experience. Because the weather was so poor we mostly toproped in the Uberfall, but despite the very limited nature of our climbing day I still took some confidence from the fact that I felt so natural on the routes we did. My footwork was solid; I was climbing well.



I decided I should just pick a landmark climb and go for it on Saturday with Dana. I quickly settled on CCK Direct, one of the ultraclassic three-star 5.9 climbs I never got around to in .



When I proposed it to Dana in the parking lot he was enthusiastic, saying that from what he knew about my recent climbing history, I'd be fine on it. This was just the kind of encouragement I needed! We gathered up our stuff and headed off down the carriage road.



We set up at the base of Erect Direction (pitch one is 5.8) and I led upward. I thought back to , when I'd had one of my best-ever days at the Gunks with Liz, onsighting both the regular non-direct CCK (5.7+) and Bonnie's Roof (5.9). I'd begun that day too with Erect Direction, figuring it was good to start with a 5.8-- an easier warm-up would inevitably still feel difficult and might only lead me to question myself. When Erect Direction went well that day in it had set the stage for further success and I hoped it would do the same for me again on Saturday.



I think of the first pitch of Erect Direction as a solid 5.8. It doesn't have any particularly hard moves on it but it is steep and continuous. It has many thoughtful sections and is quite pumpy for a good two-thirds of the way to the GT Ledge. It is to my mind a slightly easier version of the classic 5.8 testpiece Double Crack. It is a high quality pitch, a destination in its own right with good pro despite a few loose blocks.



It went down like butter on Saturday, making me even more primed for CCK Direct.





(Photo: The one and only Dana Bartlett, topping out on the 5.8 pitch one of Erect Direction.)



There was no need to consult the guidebook about CCK Direct. It seemed clear to me where to go. The opening overhang, which Dick rates as 5.8 PG/R, was my main concern. The last thing I wanted to do was to start the day by going splat on the GT Ledge. I'd followed Adrian up this part of the route in , however, and I thought the moves were pretty straightforward. (On that occasion Adrian had finished on the standard 5.7+ CCK, so I hadn't previewed any more of the Direct version.) The pro was a little bit down and to the left as you pulled the first roof, but it wasn't that bad, I thought.



Before setting off I asked Dana if he had any advice, and he said that I should save my blue # 3 Camalot for the end of the pitch, and that I'd be really happy to have it at the final crux overhang. This turned out to be very helpful information!



I was ready. I had the clever idea of leading up to the horizontal beneath the first overhang, placing a cam immediately to protect me while I leaned over, and then putting in another cam as far over to the right as I could reach. Then I back-cleaned the first cam and stepped down to move across to the actual moves.



This worked out well, but I probably should have put in two pieces when I leaned over instead of one. I later regretted having only a single piece between myself and the anchor when I did the first crux.



In any event I made it through the first overhang with no issues and breathed a sigh of relief.



I messed up heading into crux number two, the overhangs below the white billboard-like CCK face. I headed up a little too far to the left. I reached the bottom of the billboard, looked up and saw no holds, then looked to the right and saw all the chalk I'd neglected to follow. This caused me to panic for just a second.



I was getting pumped and there was no time to waste. I quickly downclimbed to my last cam, regrouped and headed back up the correct way. I'm sure this part of the pitch is really 5.7 or 5.8, but I made it harder for myself with my route-finding mistake. Luckily, once I pulled over the overhangs and found myself standing beneath the famous CCK crack, I could relax, clip a fixed tricam and shake it all out.



And then I had to shift gears from the jug-hauling overhangs to the exposed off-vertical thin climbing required by the CCK face. A few beautiful moves later, I was at the top of the crack, where one grunty pull got me above the billboard and below the huge roof at the top of the cliff.



The final challenge was still to come. To my surprise it turned out to be more mental than physical. It is so comfortable in that little alcove beneath the overhang, and the hold that takes you left to the exit notch is so small, you don't want to move! You can see a jug out further left and up, but it appears you have to step down and out left to get there. As you test the little hold over and over again, considering the move, it seems like you are taking a leap into the abyss. The footholds disappear. The exposure is insane.



I must have tested the hold a dozen times. I considered any alternative I could think of. There is chalk on some tiny horizontal cracks above, but I couldn't use them. Eventually I had to take the leap, step down and over, and trust I'd find whatever I needed when I got out there.



I needn't have been so worried. The pro was good. Once I finally made the step, I had the jug in a second. One more move up and I could slam in my blue Camalot. (Thank you Dana!) And then the biggest move of the pitch took me over the final overhanging block to the top.



What a way to start the season! I think CCK Direct may be the best pitch I have ever climbed. The good stuff just keeps coming and coming. After the steepness of two overhangs you have to deal with a totally new challenge, the thin sequence to get established in the perfect crack up that blank CCK face. The moves and the position are sublime. But it isn't over! The final crux notch puts the cherry on the cake.



Last fall I would have viewed this pitch as a fitting capper for the whole year. I'm so psyched to begin the season with such a great milestone.

About a Year

Looking through the pictures I took of a recent ride along the cherry-blossoming Charles River, I realised that it has been just about a year since I began Lovely Bicycle. I say "about a year", because I am not entirely sure when exactly I started writing vs. publishing the entries. But apparently it was right around this time, as in my first documented bike-ride the blossoms were in bloom as well.



It is customary to conduct some sort of self-assessment when a project like this reaches its 1-year anniversary. But when I think about why I started this website, I feel suddenly inarticulate and a little confused - because honestly I do not have a good reason. I am not an activist and do not seek to promote "a cycling lifestyle". Life has worked out for me in such a way, that personally I have not driven a car since 2007, and I love to ride my bicycle(s) for both transportation and recreation. However, if you happen to own a dozen SUVs and enjoy driving them, that is fine with me. If you collect bicycles solely for the purpose of photographing them in your garden and never actually ride them, that is fine as well. And if you are a die-hard Foresterite vehicular cyclist who hates bike infrastructure and loves 6-lane roads with 40mph+ speed limits, that's wonderful too. You are all welcome, if you feel that you can relate to some aspect of this website.



Neither is the motive of this weblog a diary-style documentation of my life. Those who know me in person are aware that my posts here create an amusingly incomplete and warped presentation of my actual life and personality. And finally, neither was it ever my intent (not that I am in any danger of this) to gain commercial success or recognition for this website.



When I first started Lovely Bicycle, the intent was to review the options that were out there for bicycles that were both practical and aesthetically pleasing for people with lifestyles and tastes similar to mine. This was driven by my own frantic search for a "lovely bicycle" in Spring of . However, the weblog developed far beyond this premise and I am still no closer to explaining what motivates me to continue it - when frankly my life is quite hectic as it is and does not need extra projects.



I will be honest: This discrepancy of the blog getting larger and more time consuming (I now get over a dozen emails per week and it is becoming impossible to answer most of them) with my not having a good explanation for why I am doing this, has caused me some concern and I have considered discontinuing Lovely Bicycle on several occasions. An alternative option could be to start accepting selected sponsorships, and using any earnings from these to at least cut down on some of the consulting projects I do in order to stay financially afloat - thereby freeing up time to continue working on the blog. But I do not have a clear idea of how this could be done while still maintaining the home-made feel of this wesite.



In short, it remains to be determined in what direction Lovely Bicycle will meander next, if at all. But in the meantime, I can't seem to help continuing to take pictures of beautiful bicycles and writing all of this nonsense about them!



While taking the pictures shown in this post, I was approached by a couple who asked me whether their daughter could pose next to my bicycle for their home-made video of the girl reciting "Make Way for Ducklings" by Robert McCloskey. We moved the bicycle closer to the river, and the mother directed the daughter while the father videotaped. They did several takes of the recital and the child was adorable.



Of course I didn't have the heart to tell them that the "ducklings" in the river were in fact geese. Where better for me to share a story of such an encounter, than on Lovely Bicycle?...

Yellow Lillies

Some photos of the yellow lillies that I grew on my sunroom this spring. These have grown from their bulbs, and bloomed and gone, but the orange ones have barely started to grow. Wonder what the difference was since I bought at the same store, same brand and planted at the same time? Well at least these were pretty.