Redwood Waters

A small stream tumbles through a redwood forest.

Bikes, Trains, Sailboats

After months of deliberation and procrastination, we've finally done it: Traveled by train with our bikes. For a while now we have wanted to cycle around Cape Ann, which is a beautiful area about 40 miles North of Boston - accessible by the MBTA Commuter Rail via the Rockport line. A number of people we know have taken this trip with their bikes, so it seemed doable. Also, I was delighted to spot the following notice on the MBTA website: "Commuter Rail re-introduces The Bike Coach on the Rockport line for the summer season." Bike coach! No other information was provided, so I did some research. Turns out they have commuter trains with special cars dedicated entirely to bikes - with bike racks as far as the eye can see, like this.But I could not find any information regarding its schedule, and it seemed that only some weekend trains were Bike Coach trains. A call to the MBTA was fruitless, so we decided to just show up and hope for the best.

The commuter train to Cape Ann leaves from North Station, a 3.25 mile bike ride from our house through some of the busiest parts of Boston.I don't like cycling through the city on a roadbike, but on a Saturday morning the traffic wasn't bad. We arrived early, which was good as there was a line at the ticket machines. There were plenty of other people with bicycles. When our train arrived, the conductor came out and announced that all those with bikes must proceed to the first car of the train. Only those with bikes were allowed in that car. Only those without bikes were allowed in the other cars. The segregation gave us hope that this was the fabled Bike Coach, and we happily headed for the front car along with the procession of other cyclists.

What happened next was rather stunning. The car we were ushered into had no accommodations for bikes what so ever - just a small corner of space at one end where a couple of handicapped seats had been removed. This was definitely not the Bike Coach. Nonetheless, everybody proceeded to drag their bikes on the train - more and more of them, until not only this corner, but the entire aisle was filled with bikes. When even that space ran out, new passengers began to pile their bikes on top of other bikes. Loud clunking noises filled the train as tubes smashed against derailleurs.

Not wanting our bikes damaged in the velo moshpit that ensued, we found a seat near the exit and sort of held our bikes on our laps the entire time. As you might imagine, it was uncomfortable to sit that way for an hour. But the alternative was to accept that a dozen 50lb mountain bikes would be thrown on top of our bicycles - which was not a viable option. So we tried to have a sense of humour about the whole thing and looked forward to reaching our destination while seriously discussing the possibility of Bromptons in the future.

But no sooner had we reached Rockport than the train trauma was forgotten, as we were greeted with perfect weather and glorious coastal views.

The Cape Ann peninsula consists of Rockport, Annisquam Village and Gloucester - each of them with beautiful scenery. Severed from the mainland by the windingAnnisquam River, water views are everywhere.This was our first time in the area and we decided to do an exploratory loop along the coastline instead of a long-distance trip. The Cape Ann loop is about 20 miles, with mild but constant rolling hills, alternating between open water views and tree lined country roads. Especially considering the 4th of July weekend, the area was not crowded. Drivers were courteous everywhere except for the traffic circle in Gloucester, but even that was not too bad. Roads were good on the eastern side of the cape, but terrible on the western side. Navigation was intuitive - just follow the coastline!

My Rivendell is in the midst of a small (but exciting) make-over, so I took the loaner Seven on this trip. Overall it was pretty good, though a burlier bike might have been a better choice on the pothole-ridden roads.We also ventured off road a bit, which was "interesting" on 23mm racing tires!

Cape Ann is even quieter and less commercially developed than we expected, a pleasant surprise. Lots of parks, meadows and nature reserves. Not too many parking lots. And "motel sprawl" is virtually non-existant - at least compared to places like Cape Cod, the NH Seacoast, and much of coastal Maine.

Also, there are apparently sailboat races happening in Rockport - wonderful!

All in all, we loved the area andare now considering staying there for longer, instead of venturing further from home on vacation later this summer. After all - just load up our bikes on the commuter rail, it's so easy!Of course we'd forgotten about our train experience earlier that day. Or at least, we thought, there would surely not be as many bikes on the return trip. Or maybe we would finally get the mythical Bike Coach?

Nope, no such luck. On the return trip, passengers were once again segregated into those with bikes and those without, and this time the "bike car" had a car rack attached in the handicapped seating area. It accommodated 4-5 bikes, tightly squeezed, and was filled as soon as the train began to board.

Minutes later, that pathetic little bike rack was surrounded by dozens of other bikes, stacked and thrown against one another haphazardly.

Exits were blocked, aisles were blocked - no one seemed to care. When passengers with bikes needed to get on or off, they would simply throw the other bikes out of the way and the whole thing was like one huge pile of scrap metal.So we held our bikes on our laps again - hugging them ever closer to our bodies as other passengers kept trying to pile their bikes on top of ours (yes, even while we were holding our bikes on our laps!). It was a madhouse and probably violated all sorts of safety regulations. The MBTA clearly needs to have these alleged Bike Coach cars run with more frequency and on a predictable schedule. As we now understand it, the schedule is random and there is no way to time your trip to ensure that you will get a Bike Coach. Sounds improbable, but that's how it is!

Late in the evening, we rode home from the station along mostly empty city streets, recuperating from the train but also satiated from a day of exploring such a beautiful new place by bicycle. We only cycled 30 miles over all, and the point of the trip was mainly to hang out and get to know the area. Next time we will plan for a longer route.The North Shore is a great starting point for long distance touring: While there is no pleasant bicycle route North out of Boston, from Cape Ann we could just continue to cycle along the coast to Maine. Definitely something to consider, despite the less than ideal commuter rail experience.

What is it like to travel on a train with a bike where you live, and do you do it often?

Skinny, Wide, or Stay the Heck Inside?

Okay, I promise not to make this another post with deep thoughts inspired by the snowpocalyptic weather in Boston. Because at this point, my bikes have reached a state that clinicians like to call "learned helplessness": The individual, convinced that no action on their part can alter their fate, just gives up and stops trying, possibly curling up in the fetal position and gently rocking back and forth. The snow won, dear readers.Oh yes, it won.



Yesterday, this was "the road" outside my house. Perhaps not surprisingly, last night I had a dream about this fellow. Though I am normally drawn neither to Surly nor to mountain bikes, I've had the hots for the Surly Pugsley since the first time I saw one a couple of years ago. I have no intention of getting one, honest. But part of me wishes I still lived in Northern NH, so that I'd "have no choice but to get it," you understand. I have seen pictures of that bicycle ridden through waist-deep snow, through soft sand, and crossing medium sized lakes. And something about the proportions seems just right to me, making the Pugsley an "ugly, in a handsome kind of way" type of bike. The Joe Viterelli of bikes, if you will.



But whenever I bring up the Pugsley with its 3.8" tires as an example of a dream "winter bike," someone inevitably replies that "bikes with skinny tires are actually better in the snow" - which, no matter how many times a proponent of that concept tries to explain it, does not make a great deal of sense to me. While I understand that skinny tires can supposedly pierce through the snow, I am skeptical. Doesn't that mean the bike could easily get stuck? And why do I see only mountain bikes when there's significant snow on the roads?



There is no doubt that my massively heavy, long wheelbase, 38mm tire Gazelle handles better when going over snow than the lighter and sprightlier 35mm tire Bella Ciao. But neither of them is sufficient when things get really bad. And oddly, on the worse days I actually find myself favouring the Bella Ciao, only because its easier to wield when acrossing enormous snowbanks. Poor bike, I look forward to seeing what the chain will look like under that nearly-but-not-quite-full chaincase after the winter is over...



If anybody out there is riding on streets that look like this, what bike are you riding and how is it working out for you? And if you say "skinny tires," I want pictures! As for me, I stayed indoors all day today - drinking tea, catching up on work, and daydreaming of crossing frozen rivers on a white Pugsley.

New Wheeling Suit and New Adventures

Looking at Velo-Vogue's spring selection of "bike wardrobe remixes," I realised just how drab and unspring-like I looked compared to the others.

My "spring wardrobe" when I rode Marianne on April 1st. Sure, gray on gray is my signature look, but spring is all about rejuvenation. So over the weekend I put together a new Wheeling Suit.

Floral shirt, slate-blue leggings, sky-blue cardigan, and navy shorts with white buttons. No black or gray in sight. Even the saddle shoes are cream and brown, with red soles and brown laces.

These shoes are actually a God-send and I recommend them if you are looking for a stiff-soled, comfortable cycling shoe with a vintage look. They are Bass, very reasonably priced, and come in several different colours - including the more classic black-and-white saddle shoe scheme.

The soles are textured, springy and stiff- a rare and wonderful combination. The leather is thick and structured, but didn't rub or pinch even the first time I wore the shoes. And the brown matches the darker shades of my Flyer.

Lest you be alarmed that my ensemble consists of shorts and such practical shoes, I will explain that the Wheeling Suit is specifically for sporty rides and light touring - something I hope to do a lot of this year.

A couple of days ago I raised the saddle on Marianne as far as it could possibly be raised so that I could still just barely touch the ground with one toe "en pointe" and the other foot on the pedal. Last year, this would have been impossible for me and I needed to at least touch the ground with a full toe in order to stop safely on the bike. But my balance is much better now, and I felt ready to go further. I still find it impossible to mount and dismount the bike "properly", but the "one toe en pointe" method is good enough, as even on the steep-tubed Motobecane my legs are almost 100% extended on the pedals now.

Amazingly, raising the saddle in this manner amounted to almost 2 extra inches of seatpost. And this little adjustment completely changed my relationship with the bicycle. The combination of my improved skills and this more aggressive riding position, has made me appreciate Marianne's steep geometry and extreme responsiveness. Rather than trying to reduce and "tame" these characteristics, for the past week I have been enjoying them - for the first time since owning this bicycle.

In addition, I have had a major "skill breakthrough": I have finally learned how to balance properly - including "steering with my hips" and riding hands-free (yes, even on this bike!). I'd read about how to do this countless times, but that didn't help me learn it viscerally. I think what finally helped me learn, was watching the velodrome cyclists doing laps hands-free when they were taking a rest. Something in the "imitation" areas of my brain must have clicked at that moment, and my body finally got it. And I didn't even realise that I had gotten this, until I noticed myself turning at an intersection by tilting my hips rather than using the handlebars - my body did it on its own, and the "Aha!" moment followed. I will stop myself from being too self-congratulatory about something most normal cyclists have been probably doing since age 10, but I am nonetheless excited. Clearly, there are many new things to learn ahead. Hope springs eternal!

Mourning Cloak

A mourning cloak butterfly basks in the sun.

The Dunfee Family :: Eliza and Aquilla Hoff

Eliza is presumed to be the daughter of James and Sophia (Hazlett) Dunfee. The primary link is the fact that Eliza was living with Jonathan Haslett in Mifflin Twp, Ashland County, Ohio in 1850. We're making the assumption that Jonathan is probably the father of Sophia. Bottom line is that I really don't have any “proof” that Eliza is the daughter of James and Sophia.



Census records put the year of birth for Eliza Dunfee at 1811, 1813, or 1815 and place of birth in Maryland or Pennsylvania. In 1850, she is 39 years old and born in Maryland. In 1860 she is 47 and born in Pennsylvania. And in 1870 she is 55 and born in Pennsylvania. Chances are, her age in 1850 is probably closer to the truth ;-) since she seems to lose a few years with each census.



Eliza married Aquilla Hoff on September 4, 1851 in Ashland County, Ohio as recorded in volume 2, page 70 (license 1134) of Ashland County Marriage Records.





The image above is from the FamilySearch online database of Ohio County Marriages. There seems to be some “confusion” on the part of the clerk that recorded the marriage or the “authority” who performed the ceremony. Under “Names of Parties” it shows that the record is for Aquilla Hoff and Eliza Dunfee. In the far right column, it states that R. D. Emerson is certifying that “on the 4th day of September Eighteen hundred and fifty one I joined in Marriage Mr. George W. Brown and Miss Eliza Dunfee.”



In actuality, it was Eliza Dunfee who married Aquilla Hoff. When the property of Jonathan Hazlett was sold on October 25, 1853, the majority of the items were sold to Aquila Hoff.





Sale Bill from the estate file (#190) of Jonathan Hazlett. Ashland County, Ohio.





The last entry in the above image (a portion of page 299 of the Ashland County Tract Book) shows that Luke Selby, administrator of the estate of Jonathan Hazlett sold in March 1854 the land that had been owned by Jonathan to Aquilla Hoff. The transaction is also recorded in Ashland County Deed Book 10 page 206.



Aquilla Hoff and his wife Eliza, sold that land to Christian Vesper on March 27, 1857 (Ashland County Deed Book 15 pages 162-163).



That was, essentially, all the information I had on Aquilla and Eliza. Until in November .., when I received an email in response to an 11 year old query I had posted on the Hoff Family Genealogy Forum. My correspondent passed along the information that Aquilla and Eliza had moved to LaGrange County, Indiana where she had found them in the 1860 census.



I'm guessing that they probably moved to LaGrange County in the spring of 1857 after they sold the land that had belonged to Jonathan Hazlett. They are listed in the 1860 and 1870 census in Bloomfield Township, LaGrange County, Indiana.



Aquilla Hoff is 45 years old in 1860. He is a farmer with real estate valued at $3000 and a personal estate of $342. He was born in Maryland. Listed in his household was Eliza, age 47 and born in Pennsylvania; Jonathan, age 6 and born in Ohio. Also included was Lucetta Dumbar, 12 years old and born in Indiana.



In 1870, Aqula Hoff is 54 years old. He is still a farmer but has real estate valued at $5000 and a personal estate of $1000. He was born in Maryland. Included in his household were Eliza, now 55 but still stating she was born in Pennsylvania; and Jonathon, who is 16 years old and born in Ohio.



Eliza (Dunfee) Hoff died on August 6, 1876 and is buried in Greenwood Cemetery, Lagrange County, Indiana. There is a memorial for her on Find A Grave. Looking closely at the photo of her gravestone it appears that the word “AGED” is written below the date of death. If so, it might pinpoint her year of birth a little better than the census records.



In the 1880 census, Aquilla Hoff was found in Drum Creek Township, Montgomery County, Kansas. He was 65 years old, retired and born in Maryland. Listed with Aquilla was his son, Jonathan H. Hoff, who was 26 years old, a farmer, and born in Ohio. He gave his father's place of birth as Maryland and that of his mother as Pennsylvania.



According to my correspondent, Aquilla Hoff was born February 15, 1815 in Washington County, Maryland and died June 27, 1883 in LaGrange County, Indiana. However, I suspected that he died in Kansas since that was where he was living in 1880. Turns out, Aquilla really did die in LaGrange County. There is an entry for him in the book “Indiana Deaths, 1882-1920” that was compiled by the W.P.A. (Works Progress Administration). It shows that he died in Newbury Township and was 68 years old.



What happened to their son Jonathan H. Hoff? Jonathan does not appear to be in the census records after 1880 (ancestry online index).



I did find a John H. Hoff in Kansas census records, 1900 through 1930, that I think is a likely candidate to be Jonathan H. Hoff, son of Aquilla and Eliza. However, there is a six year discrepancy in their ages.



But, this John H. Hoff has a daughter, his first born child, named Eliza... and his middle name is Hazelet!



See The Dunfee Family :: Are Jonathan H. Hoff and John H. Hoff the same man?



See the Index for previous posts on the Dunfee family.

Friends and Their Place in Our Life

This is a picture of our friends that visited us, on top of Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. I have to give a sincere thanks to them for their visit with us. We had such a wonderful, wonderful time with them. We truly just soaked up every minute we were them. It was interesting, it was easy to just spend time chatting about our lives with them and they were such grateful company when we extended even the slightest things their way. They honestly were just a joy to be around and we felt lucky to have them as guests. When they thanked us as they left, we said it was our privilege and we meant it.
Now that we have had the craziness of the hurricane, we see all the more how important our time with them was. They brought such joy and peace to us, and that carried us through our evacuation and the days to follow.
It has me pondering the role that friends hold in my life. The older I get, the more I realize that I get by not with just "a little help from my friends", but rather I get by with a lot of help from my friends. This past winter, I really realized that. While going through what we did, it gave me the gift of analyzing exactly what friendship is to me. It gave me the chance to evaluate what I want from my closest friends and why it was necessary to ask for that from someone that is a close friend of mine.
Barb has played a significant role in all of this for me. While I was sorting through one friendship in particular this past winter and sharing it all with Nathan, he wasn't quite understanding clearly what I was explaining to him. During this same time we met up with Barb and John for a few hours in Florida and as we left he said, I can see now why you are so frustrated with that friendship. Barb and your friends like her have spoiled you. They are such good friends to you, why would you want to settle for something that is so much less than what they are willing to give you?
And he was exactly right. I have friends like Barb that have set a higher standard in my life than I would have asked for myself, and they have shown me that I don't have to settle for friends that are only there when things are happy and fun if I don't want to. I am so grateful for that. It doesn't mean I don't still love the other friends in my life, just that I don't want to put as much time and energy there at this point in my life.
He said he was in awe at how well Barb knows who I am and how supportive she is of me being..well, me. I agree. I hope I give the same to her in return. Because at the end of the day, isn't that all you can really hope for in a friend-that they work at knowing the real you and appreciating the real you? Not to say my friends like Barb don't speak up when truth needs to be spoken to me. They do. Boy, do they sometimes! And they still love me and stick by me even then. Because I trust how much they do know me, I trust their input.
They also let me share honestly with what I see in their life without taking offense, even if they disagree. If something is a big deal to one of us, we don't downplay that or try to talk them out of seeing it that way. We let it be what it is to them. If someone is sad or depressed, we honor that as much as much as if they were happy and full of joy. We work at adjusting our behaviors where who we are is spilling over onto each other in ways that hurt or cause stress for the other, while still remaining true to who we are. And this particular group of women that I am talking about has managed to do this for about a decade now. I hope we are still there for each other for many more decades.

I value friendship far more than I ever did when I was younger. I wonder if that won't continue to be more and more true the older I get. I hope so, because when a friendship is a good one, it is a rare and precious thing.

Thank you, my friend, and all of you women in this particular circle of my friends. You all rock!