Bruce Gordon Was Nice to Me

I spotted him in the shadows, at the back of the exhibition hall. It was unexpected. This was Interbike after all, not NAHBS. But there he was, behind a big beautiful red bike with Bruce Gordon decals, underneath a banner with the mysterious word SOPWAMTOS (which, I soon learn, is the Society of People Who Actually Make Their Own Sh!t). A broad-shoulderd, slightly slouchy, gray-haired man with the face of a Soviet literary dissident circa the 1960s. I would give anything to have the writing skills to describe Bruce Gordon's facial features and expression. But alas, I must struggle. Coyly suspicious? Exuberantly grumpy? Playfully defiant? Something like that.






If you don't already know, Bruce Gordon is a framebuilder out in Petaluma, California. One of the best, they say. One of those guys who has been at it for decades, one of the legends. At a loss for words from the bizarre charm of his physical presence, I blurt out something generic about being pleased to meet him. In reply he laughs with a bitterness that is masterful in its combination of sincerity and theatrics. "If I could go back and do something else with my life, trust me I would!" he snorts. "So... want a bike?" Out of curiosity I ask about the wait list. "I am all caught up," he says, "no wait list. You can go ahead and write that on your blog" (the last word is accompanied by a playfully-scornful - or maybe not so playfully, this is ambiguous by design - roll of the eyes. But who cares. Bruce Gordon has no wait list? Okay, I will write that.)








Next we discuss his famousDangerous Pointy Brakes, which I'd recently tried on one of Pamela Blalock's bikes and discovered to be surprisingly functional (unlike most other cantis I've tried). He was pleased to hear this. For a small fortune the brakes could be mine. Alas I had neither the required sum, nor a bike on which these superior brakes could go. But yes, I would mention them on my "blog."






What can I say. I could have moved along at that point. But I don't know when to quit. And no, that's not even it. In truth, I was a little smitten. I wanted this man to keep talking. I wanted to study his face and figure out what or whom it reminded me of.






So I stuck around, touched the bike, asked questions. He quickly grew suspicious of how much I seemed to know about frame geometry and such. "Oh don't tell me. You're planning to become a framebuilder!" I assured him that I was not, but confessed that I might be building a frame for myself shortly. Nothing serious. Just to give it a try. But becoming a framebuilder, no. I understand the amount of training that requires; I know that earning a living that way is next to impossible. "You're damn right it's impossible." And thus began a speech about the horrors and deceptions of the pipe dream of becoming a framebuilder that claims hopeful innocents of my generation by the dozen. Bruce Gordon's opinion on the matter is basically a more extreme version ofthis. "If I could save just one young person from becoming a framebuilder, I would die happy," he tells me. I believe him, and promise to never become a framebuilder.






He eyes me with sadness and shakes his head. He asks what I used to do for a living before the tragedy of succumbing to bikes. I tell him briefly, and soon we are talking about bikes as one would talk about a disease. He tells me some personal stuff, I reciprocate. We commiserate. Before I know it, the conversation begins to resemble the sort of jaded, weepy, vodka-fueled exchange that takes place at around 3 in the morning. Except this is Interbike, high noon, and I am sober.






The following day, I walked by the booth again and gave Bruce Gordon an uncertain wave. I genuinely did not think he'd remember me; it was as if our conversation the day before had been something I'd imagined. But he did remember. And then he gave me this pin. It's a limited edition. The regular one reads "Bruce Gordon was rude to me."




And that is my story of meeting Bruce Gordon. You should buy one of his bikes. I hear they are good and he's all caught up on his wait list.

It's Like Walking vs Jogging

Imagine that you have just taken up jogging. You find jogging healthy, energising - a good way to clear your mind and exercise your body first thing in the morning or in the evening after work. You put on a pair of sneakers, leggings, a t-shirt, and off you go on your jog. At an intersection you bump into another jogger, who recognises you and exclaims: "Oh, I see you've taken up jogging! Finally smartened up and realised that it's better than walking, eh? And look, you're pretty good at it! Before you know it, you'll be jogging to work with a change of clothing strapped to your back - you'll see how much faster it is than walking and how much more control it gives you!"



An improbable and illogical scenario, yes? And yet, it is perfectly normal to encounter the same mentality when it comes to cycling. One question I get asked that absolutely puzzles me, is whether I am "moving away from upright bikes" now that I am comfortable riding a bike with drop bars. What?... Are joggers "moving away from walking"? Similarly, I am perplexed when some congratulate me on becoming a "real cyclist", now that I can ride a roadbike and a trackbike. I suppose that means that joggers and track runners are the "real pedestrians"?





Just like there are many forms of pedestrianism, so are there many forms of cycling - each serving its own purpose. The distinction between upright city bicycles, roadbikes and mountain bikes is not so different from the distinction between walking, running and hiking. Walking is a casual form of pedestrianism that is the most natural and low-maintenance way to travel from point A to point B. It is done in one's everyday clothing, while comfortably carrying items on one's person. Taking up jogging or hiking is all well and good, but you'll probably still want to walk to the grocery store.



My upright step-through bikes are my "walking." They are essential to me, no matter what kind of other bikes I ridefor fun or exercise. I am more comfortable than ever now on a roadbike, but when it comes to work or errands or pretty much any kind of city or transportation I will always choose the upright bicycle with a step-through frame, fenders and racks. As with walking vs jogging, there is no "war" between these two forms of cycling as far as I am concerned. They co-exist, each in their appropriate context.

Tombstone Tuesday :: Eva Leah and Ervin Shock

My aunt, Eva Leah Wiseman and her husband Ervin Shock are interred at North Webster Cemetery in Tippecanoe Township, Kosciusko County, Indiana next to her parents Charles and Elsie (Shuder) Wiseman.

SHOCK
EVA LEAH / 1908 - 1967
ERVIN E. / 1908 - 1991
Photo taken July 12, .. - Copyright © .. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman

Long Commutes in the Rain

Most transportation cyclists eventually get comfortable with riding in the rain, and for me this was never particularly a problem. In the beginning, my commutes through the city were short and I mainly remember struggling with poor visibility and chaotic traffic, before getting used to it all. But as my travel radius increased, so did my exposure to rain. Some things began to matter that did not matter as much before, and I gradually made adjustments.






As far as the bike, the big thing for me was waterproofing. I carry a laptop always when cycling for transportation, a DSLR camera much of the time, and also hand-written documents. These items absolutely cannot get wet. While there is now a wealth of attractive new bicycle bags on the market, many of them are not designed to resist water beyond a short ride. For long commutes, I suggest using a touring-grade bag or one that is specifically described as waterproof. The Carradice I've been using on my Brompton for the past 5 months has been pretty good so far (for as long as 50 miles in continuous rain in Ireland - with both my laptop and camera inside), as was the Po Campo pannier I used on my full-sized bikes before that. Ortlieb bags are probably an even safer bet. Just in case, I keep a plastic bag inside for emergencies, and I always store water-sensitive items in internal compartments.






An issue for those who use leather saddles, is that these can get soggy (and, consequently, deformed) after long rides in the rain. A good saddle cover helps, and the stock one from from Brooks shown here is actually not the best example. Normally I use a thick gray one from Rivendell that fits tightly all around the saddle. It is deep, too, which protects the underside of the saddle as well. I am sure there are others that do a good job. Alternatively, there are specially treated leather saddles - such as Selle Anatomica - that claim to be waterproof.






Finally, long exposure to rain might call for additional bike maintenance. On a bicycle without a chaincase, lubing the chain is probably a good idea. And even if you're not into cleaning your bike, the debris that gathers around the brake calipers and derailleur is worth wiping off to keep everything functioning smoothly. The need for this kind of maintenance after long rides in a downpour certainly makes a good argument for internally geared hubs, enclosed hub brakes and a full chaincase. However, bikes with those features may not be ideal for hilly long distance commutes.






As far as the cyclist, clothing choices get trickier - especially if you want to ride in regular clothes and don't have the opportunity to change upon arrival. A truly waterproof outer layer is essential. But equally important is breathability, since you are exerting yourself more than you would on a shorter ride. When I started riding longer distances I discovered that my usual raincoat was neither entirely waterproof, nor very breathable. Eventually I found one that worked well - made of light, technical fabric with lots of vents and a removable hood. Rain capes may be another option, with some breathable, cinchable ones from Iva Jean and Cleverhoods recently introduced. Just as crucial as outerwear is waterproof footwear: Shoes that are fine on short rides can get soggy after 10+ miles pedaling in the rain,and you probably don't want to sit around with wet feet all day.




Of course, all the general tips for riding in the rain still apply: Lights, fenders, extra caution. On an upright bike, I don't feel like the rain is hitting me in the face as hard as it does on a roadbike, which makes things more pleasant.Once outside the city, I generally find it fairly peaceful and low-stress. Mixing ideas from transportation cycling and touring has been helpful for me and that's what I would suggest to others with long rainy commutes. Find a setup that works for you, and enjoy not being stuck in suburban rain-day traffic!

Awesome Sunset, Grand Portage Bay

Here's a shot of last night's AMAZINGLY AWESOME sunset over Lake Superior. It was certainly one of the best sunset skies that I have EVER seen!

Winded

I remember in elementary school art class, our first assignment was to "draw the wind." The class was divided in their interpretation: Half drew an old man with long gray hair floating up in the sky and blowing gray swirly clouds; the other half drew trees swaying. I was one of the few who drew something weird - I think it was little animals running for cover amidst fallen flowers. The teacher wasn't pleased at all with my creativity and told me to look at the other children's pictures. But I never did get the hang of it.




Today I came close to crashing on my bike, and it was all the wind's fault. Well no, it was my fault. But it happened because it was windy. I was riding my roadbike alone and practicing leaning on turns, when suddenly a strong gust of wind blew in the direction of my lean. It had not occurred to me that such a thing could happen, but of course there is no reason it can't. It was an alarming sensation, as if someone was maliciously shoving me, trying to topple me on a turn. I was already leaning, and the gust of wind made the lean feel out of control.




Naturally, I panicked and tried to straighten the bike - in the middle of the turn, while simultaneously braking. As a result the bike became unstable, and then all I could think to do was attempt to bring it to an abrupt stop without letting it fall. I hit the brakes and came off the saddle at an awkward angle, holding on to the handlebars tightly and managing to keep the bike upright. Overall it was fine, except as my left foot landed on the ground, my right foot remained on the pedal and I twisted my ankle slightly. It's not swollen, but it hurts a little. Damn.




Of all the ways I could injure myself on a bike, it figures that it would be something ridiculous like this. Why did I have to panic and get all squirrely? Until today I haven't had that sort reaction in a long time. I guess what scared me is that the situation was entirely new. I know at this point how to right a bike if the front wheel hits a pothole, if another cyclist hits me with their elbow as they pass, or if I need to swerve around an obstacle. But the wind pushing me into a lean was unexpected and I didn't know what to do. In retrospect I should have just gone with it - I don't think the wind was strong enough to actually push me all the way to the ground. But of course that's easy to say now. Well, I hope my ankle is okay and I can ride tomorrow. I am trying to figure out what lesson there is to be learned from this, but more than anything I am just super annoyed at myself. And the wind.

Just Hangin'

We have finally hung the Motobecanes up on the wall and cleared up some floor-space in my art studio. Now there are "only" four bicycles there: the Pashleys and the vintage DL-1s. It is not a large studio by any means; I have no idea how we managed to store six bicycles there. At least now these two are suspended from hooks in the bedroom.

I think the Motobecanes look rather nice here. The door on the left is a closet, and yes the positioning of my mixte makes the closet impossible to open without taking the bike down. That is okay, because it is a long-term storage closet and we only open it occasionally. There was no other place to hang the bikes in the entire apartment; the rest of our wallspace is covered with book-cases.

We used common 5" threaded, ruberised hooks that you can easily find at any bike shop. They are intended for wood, and you need to be sure that you are screwing them into wooden beams and not drywall. Also, this probably goes without saying, but this method is not intended for extremely heavy bicycles, such as Dutch bikes or English Roadsters. Our vintage roadbikes are around 30lbs each, and I would not go much beyond that weight.

We like these hooks because they are sturdy, yet unobtrusive. We did not really feel drawn to bike trees and funky wall-mounting systems, as those tend to clash with the delicate ecosystem of our dwelling's aesthetic. With these minimalist hooks, the bikes remain the focus of attention, like fine pieces of art. Incredibly imposing art.

Greetings From... North Carolina

In an attempt to evade the wind and rain, I left the Richmond area the morning of Friday the 13th, heading west and south, stopping for the night in the small town of Stuart, Virginia. It had rained off and on during most of the drive. Sometime during the night, the rain finally stopped.

The next morning I awoke to sunshine and blue skies and drove the few miles west to the Blue Ridge Parkway. The good thing about driving the Parkway this time of year is that there are very few other people doing the same. The bad thing about driving the Parkway this time of year is that all the campgrounds are closed as are the visitor centers and picnic areas.


Near Cumberland Knob, North Carolina
From the Blue Ridge Parkway - November 14, ..

Sunrise Over Kachemak Bay

After nearly a week of on-again, off-again rain, Saturday morning (August 14th) promised something different. We had hoped for a day without rain and it started out with a little bit of sunshine! And lots of clouds.

One of the larger boats in the harbor.
Two early risers getting in some fishing time.
The sun makes it up over the top of the mountains.
The fishing boats were heading out. A light breeze was blowing and the seas were fairly calm.

After these boats hooked up together they turned around and headed for open waters. The wave in front of them was caused by another passing boat.

The Robin

After setting off for my morning ramble intent on taking photos of Fieldfare that have flocked here from Scandinavia I came across this Robin who was happy to wait for me to get focused unlike the Fieldfare who left early laughing. Also along the way there was plenty of Goldfinch, Greenfinch and a Bullfinch which I have yet to get.

Ursa Americanus at Ingraham Flats

On Saturday, we heard about a black bear near Cathedral Rocks... Today, the person who photographed that bear wrote.

More about the climbing bear from David Gutzman of UT.

"We were approaching Ingraham Flats when we heard some rock fall... we looked and saw what we thought was a large, odd shaped rock tumble down a hundred feet onto the glacier. To our surprise the rock got up , shook itself, took one look at us and took off..."

David shot a few images and shared them. Wildlife high on Rainier isn't entirely unheard of, but it's certainly a rare treat to encounter something like a bear at 11,100 feet.

David continued, "[The bear] ran full speed uphill (through deep snow) across the... Ingraham and looked like it was heading towards the Emmons Glacier, all the time glancing our way."

On the climbing front, the weather finally cleared some today... but more snow is forecasted for the week. Let's see if this snow will settle.

Booze and Fast Cars

As if this area didn't have enough neat things already, it also has lots of booze and fast cars. There are vineyards, winery, and distilleries galore. And there are classic car and race car related things everywhere too. Watkins Glen has car shaped road signs and plaques in the sidewalks.

The first weekend we were here, there was a Classic Car event. I didn't grab many pictures of the cars because the area was so congested, it made it hard to drive, let alone snap pictures. Aric got to stand by some other beauties at the library one day.

From Watkins Glen Chamber of Commerce website: The community recently celebrated its 60^th anniversary of road racing.The checkered flag first dropped here in 1948 … a time when man and machine used the village streets and hillsides for its race course.Today, Watkins Glen International hosts a full calendar of international motor racing events on a world-class raceway.The original racetrack has been recognized on the National Register of Historic Places … the Village celebrates its road racing heritage each year with the Watkins Glen Vintage Grand Prix Festival…where the cars return to streets for a day of racing on the original course.

And their information about the agriculture here:

Seneca Lake provides the ideal climatic environment for the areas wine-making enterprises and we lay claim to being the second largest wine producing region in the United States … second only to Napa Valley.

Over 700 feet deep, Seneca Lake’s glacial “lake effect” shelters the lush vineyards that flank her shores.

Retaining residual summer warmth in the winter and winter’s cold in the spring, the vineyards receive protection from disastrous spring frosts during grape formation and early fall frosts before the harvest.

In 2005 the area boasted 42 wineries on Seneca Lake … currently, more than 50 wineries, of the over 90 in the Finger Lakes region, open their doors to visitors from all over the world.



Beautiful, just beautiful!

Beware the Punter! A cautionary tale.

On the then unclimbed N. Face of Mt Hunter, Alaska 1981



Punter (plural punters)



1.One who bets (punts) against the bank (banque).



If you don't know what you are capable of, one way to find out is to bounce your head off a few projects and see what sticks. Risky business if you are looking for what is possible whilealpine climbing. You could end up dead even if you do get up anew line or two and do everything right. You are rolling the dice every time you go out...but you do thatgoing tothe corner store as well. More than today at the storethan back in '81 it might seem.



You try to limit the odds by experience.



None of these if you are looking for something new. You'll have to write your own when you are done.





Bradley topo courtesy of Mark Allenhttp://www.alpinelines.blogspot.com/



Strong has no excuse...



Yes, I did see that on a T shirt yesterday.



In 1981, I had already climbed in the Alaska Range 3 times and done a couple of minor first ascents. But I thought we wereprepared technically by climbing harder technical ground in other parts of the world. My partner this timehad already done the S. Face of Denali, a route onForaker and he had solo'ed the N face of the Matterhorn. More importantly he was hungry for more.



Together we had done climbs in the valley in a quick day that seemed pretty good. We were convinced we really rocked! Truth is we were punters :)







When we helped Mugs and Paul over the 'shrund that morning we were pretty much kitted the same with two glaring exceptions. One was visible and one wasn't. The most powerful tool we were missing was a duplicate of Mug's experience and mind set. Like having an over grown Ueli Steck as you partner. Ya, we lacked that :) Not to say either Brad and I were gumbies, we weren't. The other thing I left behind was a set of ice tools capable on hard Alaskan ice.



I bet there are few rolling their eyes on that one. I still do.

I though I knew my shit. But I didn't.



Brad reminded me after 30 years..not so gently that I had a "small issue at home", a pending divorce.



Never good for the mind. But here is the real truth or at least part of the truth. I got scared.



More than onerather speedymodern dayalpinist has been brought to reality of the climbing on the North Butt. The realization, if you aren't up to climbing fast, you are going to spend some miserable nights out. That hasn't changed. The fact that some accept the top of the Butt, with still a full 1000m of climbing as the goal, has.





Photo courtesy of Will Simhttp://willsim.blogspot.com/

Jon going old school here on Hunter with no tent. And suffering through the coldest hours of the twilight night.

The tools? Ya, I know. Which is one reason I write this blog. In 1980 I sewed much of my own gear and tools were changing almost by the month.I figured any tool would work. How hard can alpineice be?

Imagine taking a set of randonee race axes on steep, colfd, hardice. Possible but not reassuring.I had just climbed one of the longest water falls in the world. No water falls on Hunter. (roll of eyes here) Lwt tools that I could easily plunge make sense...or so I thought. How bad could the ice climbing be on the Butt?

The answer? Bad enough.And no plunging required.

Mark Twight and Scott Backes do the climb,Deprivation, in

asingle round trip push, 13 years later after extendedschooling on Chamonix granite and the correct mind set.



Below is the crux where Brad and I bailed in the first rock band (and I got scared) and now known at the "death pitch" 30 years later. I could see that whipper coming. I had no intention of earning my alpine wings thereand wanted no part of it.A few50m rappels soon followed.





Photo Courtesy of Colin Haley and Nils Nielsen

http://www.colinhaley.blogspot.com/

http://www.alpineaddiction.no/



Strike One..unsettled mindStike Two...the wrong bit of kitStrike Three..the reality of abad night out

The Banque wins! A hard lesson butwe lived to play another day.The divorce was final a few months later.

Strong has no excuse!And very likely something Mugs would have gotten a good laugh from!Take only what you need and ignorethe rest.



The scene of the crime in May 1981