D2R2: Green River Tour+

Last Saturday I took part in a famous East Coast ride known as theDeerfield Dirt-Road Randonnée (D2R2). Don't be too impressed: I only did the short Green River Tour, augmented slightly to make it an even 50 miles. It was a good way to test my comfort level with unpaved riding, and I had a wonderful time.




The D2R2 happened unexpectedly. For the past two years I'd tried to go, but each time it did not work out. This year I did not even consider it, for lack of appropriate bike. So I wasn't training, and hadn't done any unpaved riding in months. Then a couple of weeks ago, Rawland Cycles offered me to try a new bike they've just released - a sporty model with 650B wheels and fat tires. When I mentioned the D2R2 was coming up, everything happened quickly. The Ride Studio Cafe took delivery of the bike just days before the event, assembling and tuning it with miraculous speed. On Friday I took it on a shake-down ride on some local dirt trails and determined that I'd be able to ride it. A friend borrowed a van with room for three, and could give me a ride to the start. Late in the evening I packed, printed out a cue sheet, and devised a method to affix it sturdily to the handlebars. Then I tried to stifle my excitement and go to sleep. Finally I drifted off, to the sound of rain against the window.






The D2R2 is more than a ride; it's an event. Many arrive the evening before and camp out in tents. Neither I nor my carpool companions were able to do that, so we left the morning of. At 5:30am Somervillain and our friend Brian arrived at my door. The rain started up again as we rolled my bike into the van alongside the other two and secured it with bungee cords. The rain continued as we drove toward Deerfield, MA. I began to wonder whether it would get so muddy that I simply would not be able to do the ride, but tried not to think about it.




In the early hours the roads were empty and the drive took us less than two hours.The D2R2 start is an enormous grass field, surrounded by patches of woods and cornfields. A thick fog hung over it all. In the distance we could see rows of colourful tents.To the side were rows of densely parked cars and vans, laden with bikes. Riders were assembling their bikes, changing clothes and shoes.






There were cyclists riding in circles on the grass, as if warming up before a race. The start times are staggered, with the 180K having already set off before we arrived. Brian and Somervillain would be doing the 100K route, with a 9:00 am start and mine was the 9:30 start. We had plenty of time.






It was clear from the beginning that some treated the D2R2 as a competitive event and others treated it as a party. Groups of riders in team kit were gathered in clusters discussing game plans.






Others chatted with friends, as if they did not have a care in the world.






A row of portable toilets stood picturesquely, against a backdrop of mountain vistas. The rain seemed to be easing up, but the fog and the overcast skies remained. The grass was wet. My cleats sunk into the mud as I walked my bike toward the registration tent.






Not having pre-registered, I expected chaotic crowds, but it was civilised and well-organised. I registered and received a number to pin on my jersey and bracelet granting me entrance to dinner later. Each rider was also given a sticker with an ID chip (like the kind they use to track pets!) to place on their helmet, so that they could keep track of our times and whereabouts in case of emergency, since there is no mobile phone reception throughout much of the route. This is the first year they did the ID chip thing, and I have mixed feelings about it. But I dutifully affixed the sticker, and got my number pinned on. I have never done a ride with such official trappings before.






A hot breakfast was served, with coffee and vegetarian frittatas. There were also bagels, hard boiled eggs, pastries and juice.






I was so excited that I wasn't hungry, but forced myself to sit down and eat - jumping up occasionally to greet people I knew and to photograph all the fabulous bikes.






Most of the cyclists I knew were doing the 100K ride, with a few opting for the 115K and the 180K. I began to question my decision to do the short, flat route. But then I remembered that it wasn't about the distance and the climbing itself, but about doing all that on dirt roads. I am not a confident off-road cyclist, to put it kindly, and I've only done short stretches in the past. The shorter route was enough to start with, if I could even handle that much.






As the last of my acquaintances set off for the 100K, the sun came out, slowly bathing the green field in a warm glow. The sky turned blue. Now I was eager to get going.






Even though I'd now met some people who'd be doing the River Tour route, I decided to ride alone so that I could stop whenever I liked and take pictures. I'd brought my big, heavy DSLR camera in my saddlebag. I wanted to enjoy the scenery and take my time. I arranged the cue sheet at an angle that was easily visible from my vantage point on the bike. At 9:30am I set off, allowing the first wave of starters to go on ahead of me.






After following the cue sheet through a short stretch of paved side streets, I finally arrived at a dirt road leading through some corn fields. The dirt here had turned to mud from the rain, and had not yet dried out even though the sun was out now. I gave it a try and found that my tires could handle the mud.






It did get pretty bad in a couple of stretches - deep and viscous. I accelerated through it to keep the bike going. Later I had to clean mud out from under my pedals.






After the cornfields came a stretch that was unexpectedly un-D2R2like: a manicured bike path, and some main roads with awkward turns. This went on for about 5 miles and I tried to get through it as quickly as possible. I began to pass cyclists who'd started before me. Some of them looked worried and confused - clearly not having expected to be on the road with cars for such a long period of time, and not able to read a cue sheet and ride at the same time. Finally the cue sheet directed me to a (still paved) back road that was much quieter and passed through some scenic farms. But still no dirt.






It was not until mile 10 that the pavement ended again and the scenery changed from farms to forest. Here the dirt and gravel were damp, but not wet or muddy. There were ruts and some loose stretches, but all perfectly manageable on fat tires.






The Green River Tour is described as flat, and it is compared to the longer routes. My 50 miles included about 2,600 feet of climbing. The 100K, while only 15 miles longer, included 7,500 feet of climbing. Still, even the Green River route is not pancake flat. On the outbound leg, there was a general upward trend. There was also a scattering of very short, but steep climbs throughout. My computer registered 10-14% grades on a few occasions and I would see cyclists walking up the steeper inclines. Riding uphill on unpaved terrain is more difficult than on asphalt and requires lower gears than would normally be used for the same grade. I did use my low gears liberally over the course of the flat ride.






The Green River winds through the woods picturesquely, and I found this part of the route extremely relaxing. The air smelled like leaves and grass and dirt after the rain. I could hardly feel the heat of what was now a very sunny day with temperatures in the 80s. I was torn between wanting to go slowly to prolong the experience, and wanting to go fast because it was fun and I was full of energy. A couple of times I turned around and went back just to have another look at something that I passed too quickly on the first go.





At around mile 15 there was a checkpoint with water, food and portable bathroom facilities. The volunteers were exceptionally nice. I refilled my nearly empty bottles and ate a banana.







The beautiful dirt roads continued after the checkpoint, until finally I saw ahead what could only be the lunch stop: a red covered bridge surrounded by a sea of cyclists. The organisers were clever with the route design, so that all the riders ended up at the same half-way point lunch stop, which remained open from 12:00 noon until 4pm.






This spot was so gorgeous, words and pictures can hardly do it justice. Green water flowing so smoothly, that the river surface resembled a sheet of malachite. Then, suddenly, a waterfall, white water frothing over rocks. Thick leafy canopies provided natural shade. Soft fragrant grass and pine needles made for a cushioned sitting surface.






Cyclists arrived from all directions.





Bikes were placed everywhere.






The lunch tent was beautifully situated, spacious, and offered many food options - sandwiches, snacks, potato and pasta salad, and buckets of sliced pickles.







I made use of the pickle juice when refilling my water bottles, which made for an interesting conversation with a roadie who thought the stuff was there as a joke. Nope. And yum!





Some riders tried to rest, or tend to their bikes.






But most treated it like a big party, circulating and eating and socialising.






No one looked dead-tired or miserable. Most were not in a hurry. I saw lots of cyclists arrive but not many leave until I myself got going after 2pm.






The return route was slightly different, affording more glimpses of unusual structures and landscapes. It was difficult not to constantly stop to photograph things. There were several long, winding downhill stretches here made somewhat treacherous by viscous mud, puddle-filled ruts and loose gravel. I was surprised at how easily the bike handled through it all. I was really just thinking about how pretty everything was the entire time, not about the riding itself.






To ride for miles and miles and miles without seeing any cars, stores or pavement, was really something. The smells of undisturbed forest on a summer afternoon put me in a trance. It was at this stage that I added a short extra loop to my ride, to turn the 44 miles into an even 50. While I was not ready for the challenging climbs of the 100K, I did wish for more distance. But I didn't wander too far from the prescribed route, as my phone had no reception and I did not want to get lost.






It was sad when the dirt roads ended. But luckily, the paved stretch was more pleasant on the return route than it had been heading out.





Rolling up to the finish after what had basically been a road-to-trail photo expedition with a lunch break, part of me wished that I'd done the hilly 100k and challenged myself more. But I was already starting to forget that just that very morning I hadn't even been sure that I could handle the short ride. One step at a time.





Fortunately no one gave me a hard time about my choice of the easy route. However, my ravings about how much I loved the dirt roads were seen as a promising sign that I'll join more unpaved rides in the future.





Once the 7pm cutoff came, results were swiftly published.






A hot dinner was served, along with locally made beer. The party continued.






It's hard to describe what made the atmosphere so special, but everyone around me just looked so genuinely happy. There was a feeling that you could approach anyone and start talking to them.





All around, people looked relaxed, open, unguarded, sunkissed.







And in that moment it felt that everything was right with the world. That feeling comes over all of us sometimes, however briefly. At the end of D2R2 I sensed that many of us felt it all at once. That's what made the event special.






As for the riding itself, I would describe the Green River route as relaxing, scenic and not challenging - provided you have a basic level of comfort with riding on dirt and gravel, and can handle the distance. The length of the official route is 44 miles, with just over half of that unpaved. The terrain rarely gets technical, and when it does you can simply walk. You can also walk up hills if your gearing is not low enough; the steep ones are short. I would, however, recommend wide tires (35mm+ should keep you comfortable) and reasonably low gears. Bring lots of water, as there will be nowhere to get it until the rest stop. And - very importantly - learn how to read a cue sheet. GPS computers can be insufficient and I found the cue sheet worked better. I was asked for directions at least a dozen times by riders who could not manage to read and ride simultaneously.

As far as training, I would say just aim for being comfortable with the distance, keeping in mind that riding on dirt and gravel is more effortful and tiring than riding the same distance on pavement. If you've never ridden on unpaved terrain before, seek out some local trails just to get an idea of what to expect. And if trails are lacking, try riding up and down a grassy slope - the effort and traction are similar. Because riders are basically given all day to finish the route, there is no pressure and the Green River Tour can be anything you make it. You can see how fast you can complete the entire course, or you can meander at 5mph and take all day. All sorts of cyclists did this ride - from fast experienced riders who simply wanted to take it easy that day, to cautious novices.







Those who did the challenging D2R2 routes spoke of many things I did not experience. Grueling climbs rewarded by visits to a peach orchard and mountain-top views. Terrifying descents on loose gravel. A crash of a rider unknown to us, an ambulance struggling up a dirt road with the sirens on. Pain, sweat. Sweat, pain. But in the end the riders' faces showed mostly joy. Not the "thank God this is over" kind of joy, but joy from the experience of the journey.






For me, taking part in D2R2 felt like a mini vacation. I loved the landscape, the terrain, the camaraderie, the bikes - all of it. From reading and hearing about D2R2 in previous years, I could not get a sense for what the supposedly "easy"Green River route was really like, and so I hope this ride report was helpful for those on the fence about their ability to handle it. Next summer I would like to return and attempt the 100K route. The Rawland demo bike I rode was just perfect for the terrain and I will post a review soon. A thank you to Rawland Cycles and Ride Studio Cafe for making this happen at the last minute. A thank you to my friend Somervillain for the carpool. Thank you to everyone who organised the ride and volunteered, as well as the Franklin Land Trust (you can donate to support them here). And a thank you to everyone who tolerated my picture-taking and made for such great company. I hope to see you next year. More pictures of the event start to finish here.

Down Town

One of the main streets in Clatskanie.

Ladies and Diamond Frames

Lots of ladies ride diamond frame bicycles, even in a skirt. The lovely Charlotte of Chic Cyclist and the good women of Bike Skirt are just some examples. Recently, I tried riding diamond frames for the first time in my life.

Here is the Co-Habitant's vintage Raleigh. I had to wear platform shoes, because I can't otherwise clear the top tube of his 24" bike.

And here is an Origin8 Cykel, which I tried at the Bike Stop in Arlington, Mass. This time the frame was just the right size, though those super-wide handlebars took some getting used to.

My feelings about diamond frames are mixed. While cycling, I actually find them very comfortable: The horizontal tube helps me feel balanced and in control of the bicycle. But by golly, I don't understand how to mount and dismount gracefully. The Co-Habitant swings his leg over the back in one fluid ballet-like motion, but I seem to be incapable of executing this maneuver without faltering. Plus, in a skirt this can't be done without hiking it up first.

I've tried leaning the bicycle over toward me until the frame is low enough to step over, but that does not seem right either. Ladies, how do you do it? And when you're wearing a skirt?

UPDATE: The graceful Charlotte of Chic Cyclist has now posted a photo-tutorial showing how she rides her diamond frame in a miniskirt. Enjoy!

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.

Paris Recap

Our TGV ride back to Paris went off without a hitch, and we took the metro back to our hotel. (The same one we stayed in earlier.) We wandered about a bit to look for Le Maison du Chocolat, a famous Chocolate shop. On the way there we went into the Bon Marche a large high end department store. After only a few minutes, we felt out of place and exited the Bon Marche. We finally found Le Maison du Chocolat and purchased a few items before starting to make our way back to the hotel. On the way, we passed Napoleon's tomb and we visited the Eiffel Tower one more time. We went to dinner for a final time and had a nice meal before taking a stroll back to the hotel.

Napoleon's tomb

Au revoir Paris

In the morning we ate breakfast at the hotel, and then headed to the airport.

Overall we had a great time on this trip. We enjoyed Paris, but it reminded me just how many people in Europe smoke. (It seemed like 80% of people over age 12 in Paris.) It has been a while since I've been to Manhattan, but Paris seemed dirtier. Most likely due to people not picking up after their dogs. (In defense of Paris, they encourage street disposal of garbage like cigarette butts into the gutter where they are washed into the sewers daily.) However the air was warm and humid and left me feeling dirty every day. It took some getting used to opening the doors yourself on the metro as well, but these are quirks that are enjoyable about traveling. At first in Paris we were very shy about talking to people and we got better throughout the trip as well. There are plenty of world class museums in Paris and lots of interesting things to do. We mostly stuck to the touristy things, but those can be fun too.

Alsace was a nice change from Paris as it was small towns and cooler temps. (At least they felt cooler.) It was fun to start sampling regional cuisine and get out on bicycles. It was a wonderful experience staying in the Medieval town and in an old building as well.

Burgundy was fun too. We were hoping to have more time, but the train mishap killed that time for us. Another bike ride to vineyards was scheduled, but we had to drop it. If we were going back to France, we'd hit the dining scene in Lyon more and give Lyon a second chance as well.

What can I say about Chamonix? I could live there. Well, except for the alpinism as fashion thing. Way too many people walking around the village in mountain boots and action pants. They aren't wearing backpacks, so theoretically they could have changed into more comfortable shoes (and pants) where they left their backpack. It is like people who leave their ski lift tickets on their jackets. That style sort of irked me, but the town is nice even with its limited options.

Provence was pretty great too. Unfortunately due to the holiday, we kept our Provencal excursions to a minimum. This meant we did not make it to the French Riviera which was on our list. I am also bummed about not getting to swim in the Mediterranean Sea. Oh well, I guess there is next time. Dining in Provence gave us more access to vegetables which seemed lacking during most of our meals farther north.

We also were unable to fit in a viewing of Le Tour. This is mostly because we planned last minute and bookings were hard to come by. But also because we planned our itinerary to be almost opposite of where the tour was. We were in Colmar a week before the tour was supposed to visit, and we really hoped to watch it on TV when we got back home, but you need cable to watch the tour. Oh well. This is one reason I would consider going back during high tourist season.

We had lots of great food on the trip as well. However, I (being from the NE USA) am not used to the slow eating. Sitting down to eat would mean at least and hour and a half of restaurant time. The only way to eat quickly, which is what Jennifer and I did was to buy a baguette and cheese and eat it in the park. It is also quite difficult for Jennifer as a vegetarian in France. Fortunately she eats fish, but there are not a whole lot of main courses that don't involve meats. Some restaurants we had to seek out because they had vegetarian options. Others had noticeable vegetarian options so we chose those. It did mean we didn't always get to eat where I would like to, but compromises need to be made. France is also great for the ability to eat outdoors. I think we ate inside only three times on the trip (not including trains.) This made for some enjoyable dining. Except for when smokers would sit at the table next to you. So if you wanted to avoid smoke it made sense to eat indoors.

Our train travels and limited French vocabulary also made the trip interesting. Although it made us discuss entering The Amazing Race a bit more every time we traveled. We had a lot of fun overcoming the adversity and it made us stronger. Neither of us ever got frustrated to the point of being un-fun. (Although I was close with the unadvertised closing of the line that went to Versailles.)

Attempting to speak French was also a funny experience too. I had a few classes about 5 years ago before moving to Seattle, Jennifer actually got to finish the class, and had previous Spanish lessons, so I thought she would be better. But she often confused Spanish words with French words, while my French made me feel like I was fluent in German. (Which I am NOT.) We got by and had some fun with most people who did not speak English.

On that note, the people were very pleasant in France. There was really only one incident that is not indicative of society that stood out. We were walking down a street and a homeless Parisian man mumbled some angry stuff at me and then spit in my general direction. I am not sure that had anything to do with me being a foreigner as he may not have know that. Many times we would order from menus or ask for tickets at a museum and get replied to in French. Although I did ask for a map at Versailles (in French) and was asked if I wanted the English version of the map. (I'm sure my pronunciation is terrible for most things.) It was nice to know we could get by with our limited language skills.

Jennifer really enjoyed the trip as it was her first time off the continent of North America. Every place we went was new and exciting to her, and she always said we should have spent more time there. She had a lot of fun and it was her first time seeing, touching, and being in human structures that were 400+ years old.

It was overall a fun trip, and one that I wouldn't mind duplicating in a different country. Although I am not a big fan of going during high season because of the crowds and the costs. There are advantages though which was more festivals, special events etc. happen during the tourist season. But in the future we will have more time to plan. For now, I am glad to be back home in the Cascades.

Piddington - Salcey Forest - Piddington

Led by Barry. With Gordon, Maureen and Eddie. Fine sunny morning. Just under 7 miles.

Garden gnomes with a difference?

Thatched shelter opposite a fallen tree under which, no doubt before it fell, we are told the sixth Duke of Grafton used to rest on his arduous way from his home to the church.

Salcey Forest glow

View from the high platform of the treetop walk. Northampton 'lighthouse' in the distance.

Coffee and scone break

Piddington Roman villa dig, with church in background

Piddington Roman Villa info





Upper Nene Archeological Society Piddington Dig Diaries

Rarely heard words: 'Shall we hang on for Eddie?"

Piddington Church

and finally . . . flapjack break.