A no skiing day and a tour of Saint Francois Longchamp village

On our last skiing day that our ski passes are still valid, which was a Friday, it rained and to add insult to this bad weather, I had a mild migraine. So I decided not to ski and spent the morning indoors recovering from the pain. Around noon time the migraine eased up a bit and I was looking to get out for some fresh air.



The plan was to take a walk around the 1540m village all the way up to the 1650m village. I was looking forward to score a nice item or find some gourmet stuff but all these would depend on what the shops have to offer.



Now come with me for a little walk around this mountain ski resort village including a quick peek to the local gourmet shops.



Saint Francois Longchamp 1650m. The numbers of the village corresponds to the altitude of the sub villages in Saint Francois Longchamp.





On the way to the main village.



Saw a group of children by the ski school ready for a snowshoeing journey.



I was in dried sausage heaven!



The bakery-chocolaterie-gourmet shop.



The main ski lift of Saint Francois Longchamp 1650.



Saw a number of Dutch guys dressed in animal suits... here are 3 of them.



View to Saint Francois Longchamp 1540m and 1650m villages.



Our village is the one right below.



This is the slope and ski lift from our village.



Our village, Saint Francois Longchamp 1540m.



The next day Saturday we will be leaving the Alps and drive back to the Netherlands, however, we were told that heavy snow would fall in the evening and into the morning. Dutchman and I dreaded fitting the snow chains on the car.

Gearing Up for the Holidays

Every year when it hits November, I kind of hold my breath a bit, bracing myself for the coming holidays. I love the holidays. I am really geeky about holidays in fact. But they are also tiring because of all of the "extra" they add to life.



Adding to the holiday busy-ness is the reality that work is going to get much busier. It will get downright crazy in fact. We will also have more people around us that we want to spend time with. Pickleball will be in full force. And I will love it all. And I will be ready to crash when it ends because it really is exhausting to juggle so much in such a short time. So on days like today, where I spent most of the day at Sixteen Hands...I soak up the peace and quiet while I can.



I enjoy the pace of the horses. I pay attention to the small details, like Dancer's jingle bells.



I laugh at the silly faces Patriot makes while he camera hogs my view.



I marvel at Gracie, who is one of the wild mustangs here. I appreciate her patient and gentle spirit with us as we try to attend to so many horses needs.



And I spend as much time as necessary to see that Cherokee gets as much food into him as he can handle today.



I get down to the basics when I am here. All the things that nourish living souls. Nothing more. And it is exactly what I need to keep me grounded.



Living the life in FL!

Canyonlands National Park :: Island in the Sky

I'm not sure what it was about Canyonlands that “threw me for a loop”. Its stark beauty? Its isolation? I don't know. Perhaps I was a little intimidated by the yawing canyons and deep valleys but I just didn't feel comfortable there. I was in a funk, not in a “hiking mood” and I still haven't figured out why! It would be a great place to explore with someone who had a four-wheel-drive vehicle.

There are several sections in Canyonlands National Park. I visited two of them: Island in the Sky in the north and several days later, the Needles District in the south.

I drove the main roads, opting not to travel down the unpaved dirt roads, pulling off at each of the turnouts for the spectacular views dimmed somewhat by the hazy-blue sky. The only trails I took were short ones, where the tourists were.

Frameset or Complete Bike?

In the comments of the previous post, a reader pointed out that the comparatively low MSRP of the frameset I described was not such a bargain, considering the likely cost of the complete build. Depending on the context, I both agree and disagree. So I'll take this opportunity to discuss the benefits, as I see them, of buying a frameset and building it up yourself vs buying a complete bicycle.



Purchasing a complete bike



When a manufacturer releases a bicycle model as a complete build, the price of the bike bundles together a number of things: the frame and fork, the components and accessories, and the labor involved in assembly. The price of the bike will be significantly lower than if you were to pay for all of these things individually. Assuming that you are happy with the components included in the stock build, this makes the bike a great deal compared to buying a frameset only and starting from scratch. You save money on components, you save money on labor, and on top of that you get the immediate gratification of having a ready to ride bicycle straight away.



But keep in mind that the more changes you make, the less of a great deal it will be - especially if you cannot do the work yourself and will need to pay extra for labor. Give particular consideration to whether you are happy with the stock drivetrain and shifting system. Changing this on a stock build can be costly. If the stock bike comes with 700C wheels and you want 650B, a conversion could be pricey. If you want dynamo lighting and the bike does not already have it, you will need to rebuild the front wheel with a dynamo hub, or replace it. If the stem length and handlebar width are wrong for you, you will need new ones. At some point, it might be more cost-effective to start from scratch.



Purchasing a frameset



When a bicycle model is available as a frameset only, it is an opportunity to assemble the bike according to your needs from the start. You can choose the exact gearing you want, your preferred model of levers and brakes, the correct stem length and handlebar width, and a comfortable saddle. You can integrate dynamo lighting into the build from the get-go. In the event the frame is compatible with more than one wheel size, you can choose the wheel size that suits you, instead of executing an aftermarket conversion. Going the frameset-only route is an especially great deal for those who are DIY tinkerers (or live with one) and can do the work without the help of a bike shop, and for those who already have a bunch of components lying around waiting for a frame.



But before buying a frameset, it is a good idea to make sure the bike you want really is different from an available stock build. Oftentimes novice buyers cannot distinguish between what's a big deal to change and what isn't. For example, if a bike is missing fenders and racks, you can add them without making changes to the existing build, thereby still enjoying the savings of starting with a complete bike. Also, if it's a matter of stem length and seat post setback, some bike shops are willing to swap those at no extra cost. Finally, the stock models are usually set up generically - with plain handlebar tape, plastic pedals and unsightly reflectors. While this does not look as nice as a custom build, you can easily and inexpensively personalise the bike without needing to start from scratch.



One thing to add, is that a direct cost comparison between framesets and complete builds is not always possible. While some manufacturers offer both options, others offer only one or the other. The make and model you choose in the first place might depend on which you prefer. For heavy-duty city bikes, there are now plenty of complete stock models available that require few if any aftermarket alterations. Ditto for standard roadbikes. As for 650B mixtes, and other non-mainstream specimens, not so much.

Single Speed Versatility?

I've been test riding the Paper Bicycle for the past month, and as I've mentioned before it is a single speed. The gearing is pretty low: 38x17t, with 26x2.5" tires (about 60 gear inches). The bicycle is upright and it weighs around 37lb. Reading these specs, it would appear that the manufacturer geared the bike low to compensate for its weight and upright positioning, enabling the urban cyclist to handle hilly areas. In turn, it stands to reason that the bike cannot go very fast, assuming that one does not want to spin like mad while commuting: a sedate urban bike, where the single speed aims to make the uphill portion of the ride easy and assumes you will coast downhill.

However, my experience of actually riding the bike contradicts this. While the gearing is low enough to handle reasonable uphill stretches, I can also pedal downhill much of the time, and on flats I can pick up quite a bit of speed. Based on what I understand about single speed gearing, that seems implausible, and yet that's how it is.

This is not the first time I've noticed that the single speed drivetrains on some bikes can feel more "versatile" than multi-speed hubs on other bicycles I have ridden, in the sense that a single gear on Bike A can feel acceptable over a broader range of terrain than an entire 7-8 gear range on Bike B. The first time I felt this was when switching between the multi-speed Pashley and the single speed Motobecane mixte conversion, both of which I owned in -. The Motobecane was easier uphill and faster downhill, whereas the Pashley's gears would max out in both directions. At the time I attributed this to the city bike vs roadish bike difference, but I have since experienced the same effect on bikes that were more comparable. For instance, when I test rode the Breezer Uptown, I arrived on the Paper Bicycle, then rode the 8-speed Breezerover the same terrain. I had to switch between the high and low gears of the Breezer's 8-speed range constantly in order to make the bike "move" as comfortably as the Paper Bicycle moved in its single gear. It was a poignant contrast, given that the weight and upright positioning of the two bikes are comparable. Others have reported similar experiences - discovering a single speed that was able to cover their commute as well as a multi-speed bike, but without the hassle of constantly switching gears. A single speedAbicihas proven sufficient for TrishaofLet's Go Ride a Bikein Nashville, more so than her other, geared city bike.

Increasingly, there is a trend to put 7-8 speed hubs on city bikes. Some beginner cyclists I've spoken to won't even consider 3-speed hubs, let alone single speeds. They do not have exceptionally long or hilly commutes, but after test riding a couple of bikes they feel that multiple gears are necessary. It makes me wonder whether there is something about the way many new bikes are designed, that they simply do not respond well to the rider's pedaling effort and need all those gears to compensate. Is single speed versatility the flip side of the coin to hub inefficiency, or is it all about the frame design? I am far from having an answer, but this seems worth investigating. A single speed bike is easier to maintain and put together, and it is less expensive. If it's possible to design one that can handle mildly hilly terrain, why bother with multi-speed hubs and gear shifters?

I love it here

A gray, rainy day. My husband calls on the cell phone.



"Look out the window. There's a turkey in the back yard!"



Meleagris gallopavo, eating clover.

I duck-walk below window level to grab the camera.

And spy this out the kitchen window:



Snowy Egret, Egretta thula.

-----

This was the first time we'd seen only one turkey. Normally they're in flocks. It seemed awfully large for a female, and we wondered if it might be a first-year male. I'm not sure when they develop the red color on their heads or when they grow their beards. I couldn't find any info about that online, so if you know please feel free to instruct me!

The Snowy (a new yard bird for us) hung around the rest of the afternoon, foraging in the pond. In the past we've only seen them at the beach I think, so this was the first time we'd noticed foot-stirring behavior.

"Look at him, what in the world is he doing shuffling his feet like that?!" He'd take one foot, and move it ahead in the shallow water in a back and forth motion. Like he was stirring up the mud on the bottom.

Ah, YouTube to the rescue. There's a video of the behavior here. Our guy was moving much more slowly and deliberately though, and the behavior was more obvious since the water was so shallow.

From what I read online, that behavior is used to forage for crustaceans. In the time we watched, he didn't catch any of those, but did score one small fish and one rock (which he threw back).

Real Adventure?

So when was the last time you had a real adventure? You know, something out of your comfort zone?

My lovely wife had one today. Her first group ride on an unknown route. Made me think of the first time I did the same ride. Heart rate maxed for 2 hours....every turn new. And me wondering if I would have to get off the bike and walk on the next hill. Funny how experience, repetition and time changes our perspective. I found myself wanting to help her savor her newest adventure. It isn't about what we do, it is that we choose to try. It is about how far we are willing to step out of our comfort zone and how often. That is the real adventure.

Last week I was on a route again that the first time I tried to climb it we failed....40 feet from the top, terrified and it took the rest of the daylight and then some to get off....using a BIC lighter to find pin cracks to set the anchors just to get down. Those same anchors are now replaced by 3/8" bolts and chain stations.

Some of my best adventures have nothing to do with how difficult the climbing is. Some were just amazing learning experiences, the demands of relationships that matter....or injuries.

But I still remember that adventure and failing, so sweetly painful and close, years ago, like it was yesterday. Isn't that what the best adventures are all about?

Ristra Display

I could see this ristra display down the ally way we couldn't get into.

The Provincetown School of Vehicular Cycling

We often take daytrips to the Cape in the summer, but avoid Provincetown, because it is both too far and much too crowded. However, last week we stopped by. For those unfamiliar with the area, Provincetown is a lively and quirky town at the very tip of Cape Cod, long associated with the arts and with freedom of sexual expression. The main street is lined with galleries, coffee houses, excellent restaurants, eccentric shops, theaters, piano lounges and dance clubs. Rainbow flags are aflutter. Tourists pose to have their pictures taken with drag queens. Ocean waves rise picturesquely in the background. Everything is relaxed and easy; everyone gets along.



We arrived with our vintage 3-speeds and found the town center absolutely packed. The photos don't capture this, but many parts of the long and narrow Commercial Street were filled shoulder to shoulder with pedestrians and bumper to bumper with cars. It did not look like we could walk through the center, let alone cycle. And yet, the place was full of cyclists. They were riding in both directions through the narrow street, blithely passing the slow cars and the meandering pedestrians with dogs and strollers. We got on our bicycles, and what an educational experience it was.



Imagine: Cars pay attention to bicycles and wait for them without getting angry about it. Drivers and passengers look before opening the doors of parked cars. Cyclists are non-belligerent. Phrases such as "Please, go right ahead!" and "Oh, sorry about that!" and "Thanks!" and "Hey, nice bike!" can be heard all around instead of what is normally shouted in Boston. Can this be Vehicular Cycling Heaven? Cycling in Provincetown - both through the center and through the wider roads with higher speed limits - has made me feel considerably more comfortable about sharing the road with cars.



We did not take many bike photos, but here are a few bicycles spotted in town. A colourful Electra Amsterdam with nice wicker panniers and a sunflower on the handlebars. I believe it belongs to a local painter.



And here is a Rivendell Rambouillet by the marina, complete with fenders, Brooks saddle, rack, lights, and handlebar bag. The owner was pleased and amused that I recognised his bike.



And finally, a solution to the "control issue" in tandem cycling: The Buddy Bike! Now both riders can feel like captains - though I assume this can only be done if the riders are roughly of the same weight.



For more about cycling in P-Town, read about Vee's bike date at Suburban Bike Mama.

Blewett Pass ..

Technically it is Swauk Pass. The old highway went over Blewett, and the name was kept when they rerouted over Swauk Pass. I headed out with the intention of seeing if there was any climbable ice in the area, but as best I could tell there wasn't any. It appears to me that the terrain is not steep enough, but there could be other issues as well.

I took the skinny skis out on the ungroomed forest service road 800. I have always stayed away from the Blewett Pass area because it is an area where snowmobiles coexist with skiers. This is usually not that pleasant, but I wanted to give it a try. After a few hundred feet into the woods, I could almost no longer hear them and I had stopped coughing on the two stroke fumes. Then it was a peaceful ski in. If I stopped, all I could hear was the snow hitting my body.

Peaceful skiing up the road

There are a few turns in getting to the correct road on the ridge, but it was fairly easy navigating. A group of three women started off long before me, so I had a decent track to follow, although with how heavy it was snowing, it wasn't obvious to me if they had been there the day before or not. (It wasn't until I caught them at my turnaround point that I could confirm they were there the same day.) I think they were following a track put in earlier in the week. Unfortunately I brought my track poles which were way too long to use efficiently when my skis were 4-8" in a trench. It really turned out to work my shoulders due to that fact. For future reference, I'll bring shorter poles in this type of scenario.

Snowing hard

This route would be fairly scenic if it wasn't snowing so much. But I did get some nice glimpses at the surrounding area. There isn't a whole lot of hills, and it made for a nice workout plugging along the road. Some of the downhills I could coast a bit, but mostly I had to keep kicking or double poling on the downhills as the snow was offering a little too much resistance to just coast every hill. At about the three mile mark or so I stopped to have a bite to eat and turned around. I wanted to get home to see Jennifer off to work, and hopefully eat dinner with her.

By the time I got back to the car it was covered in two inches of fresh snow. It was coming down fast enough that I had to scrape the windows three times before I eventually left the Sno Park. Then it was a slow ride down from the pass and out to I90. There were a few cars in the ditch on 97. From I90 things didn't get much better and I maintained a ~35mph pace from Cle Elum to Snoqualmie Pass. The area between Cabin Creek and Hyak was the worst. A plow hadn't been by in a while and there were stiff peaks of snow between the wheel ruts that made driving difficult. Heading up the hill from Hyak plows had recently cleaned the road, so it was much easier. Then everyone got stuck behind the plows on the downhill side and there were a few cars in the ditch near the big right hand turn before the Denny Creek exit. Soon after that we were low enough for the change over to rain and the speed picked up to near the limit. The forecast hard rain was being delivered, and I had to turn the wipers on high.

Being from the Northeast US, I had never associated insects with snow. Having lived in Seattle for a while now, I have learned to see spiders and insects on melting snow in the Spring and Summer. But now twice this Autumn I have seen this one type of insect on the snow. A quick search on the internet makes me believe it is a snow fly or winter crane fly. I have seen a bunch of these walking around today, and a few weeks ago with Steve at Hyak.

Snow fly?

Early bloomer

Cherry Japanese Apricot blossoms...



... at the in-laws' this past weekend.

I haven't seen cherry trees blooming around here, and the inlaws are north of here, so I guess this one's just an early bloomer.

-----

Updated:
My sister-in-law emailed to tell me that the reason this is blooming before other cherry trees, is that it isn't a cherry tree! It's a Japanese Apricot. (The bark looks just like that of a cherry.)

Old Town Church

This is the front of the Catholic church that is in the middle of Old Town Albuquerque, NM and is still in use.

Still Fighting With 5.9+: Jean (again)

(Photo: Trying to get psyched beneath the crux roof on Jean (5.9+), back in August.)



In my last post I wrote about my unexpected triumph over my first trad 5.10 lead, Beatle Brow Bulge. This was a great milestone for me. My onsight success climbing this soft 5.10 also made me wonder if the old rumor might actually be true:



Is 5.9+ in the Gunks harder than 5.10-?



Earlier that same day I found a reason to believe the rumor. The lesson came courtesy of my second attempt at Jean.



Back in August I'd attempted to lead Jean, but I hadn't liked the pro for the crux roof and I'd bailed without attempting to lead over the ceiling. I'd wanted a piece at the lip or above the roof but the best pro I'd been able to get was under the roof and to the right. I felt like a fall from just over the roof would result in a sideways landing onto the slab below the overhang, which would quite likely result in injury.



After giving up on the lead I'd tried the crux on toprope and found it to be not that difficult. Above the roof are a couple bad crimpers but then you get a great jug. I started to think that blowing it might not be so bad after all, because if you fell it would happen at those first couple of poor holds, before pulling over the roof and not too far from your gear.



I resolved to go back before the season ended to get redemption and conquer Jean.



Fast forward to November. With the end of the season coming quickly I figured if I was going to exorcise my Jean demons I had better get around to it soon.



But my memories from August were fading and I wondered if I'd really be any happier with the gear this time around. I decided to start a thread on Gunks.com asking about the appropriate gear for Jean. I'd read that there used to be a ball nut fixed right at the spot where you pull over the roof. I know nothing of ball nuts, but I thought maybe I could place one there myself, so I asked the wise climbers of Gunks.com which ball nut I should buy.



The consensus seemed to be that the cam off to the right is good enough, and that I should forget about the ball nut placement.



Armed with this information I felt somewhat reassured, but only somewhat. When our climbing day arrived I knew that I had to attack Jean right away or I was going to lose my nerve, so when we got to the Trapps parking lot I told Adrian that I wanted it to be our first climb of the day. We found it open and I went right at it.





(Photo: Here we go again. I'm hanging instead of trying the crux on Jean, this time in November.)



I felt strong as I got started. There is a cruxy little 5.8-ish move about halfway up that gets you established in the shallow corner system that leads to the roof. The pro for this move is totally solid, and while the move has pretty good hands, the feet are smeary. In August this move caused me much hesitation but this time, in November, I committed right away.



So far so good.



Then I got up to the pocket right under the roof and placed the key cam out right without too much strain. With this bomber pro in place, I should have been ready for the crux.



Determined to send, I reached up to the shitty crimper with my left hand...



and I couldn't make myself go for it.



Again.



The crimper felt so lousy. And I still didn't like the thought of that fall.



So I downclimbed a step and rested for a minute without weighting the rope. I still wanted this redpoint, in the worst way. I gathered my courage and tried again.



Such a bad hold! Was it this bad in August?



I chickened out for the second time and took a hang.



So much for that redpoint.



I must have repeated this routine once or twice more, going up, testing the hold, not liking it, retreating, and hanging.



Finally I decided to shorten the draw on my top piece of protection. I figured drag be damned, I need to reduce the potential fall. This decision gave me a certain amount of additional (and perhaps irrational) confidence. With the fall distance shortened by a foot or two I could commit to the moves and found them easier than I remembered. The bad crimper feels from below as though you'll pop right off it but once you crimp hard and commit, it isn't so bad. Shitty crimper left, shitty crimper right, then shelf, then jug and you're done. The crux is over in a few seconds.



I left Jean frustrated that I didn't get it clean. But I told myself I'd made progress. At least I finished it on lead this time. And my failure to redpoint had nothing to do with any inability to do the moves. It came down to a lack of faith caused by a combination of that crummy crimper hold and sub-optimal pro. Maybe my lack of faith was actually, in retrospect, completely justified. I wonder if that ball nut placement is necessary after all; theroof movemight bean ankle-breakerwithout it.



Even though I haven't conquered Jean, I don't thinkI need to go back to lead it again. I don't know what I would be trying to prove. And I might be risking a needless injury, unless I buy that ball nut...



IsJean a sandbag at 5.9+? I am torn. The climbing isn't easy. It isn't nearly as sustained as Beatle Brow Bulge. But those two crimps over the roof on Jean are less positive than any of the holds on Beatle Brow Bulge. Jean may require a little more technique, and a cooler head.