Roe-Dee-Oh :: Bull Riding

Sunday, August 21st - - The “main” event, the one that we waited nearly four hours to see, was the Bull Riding. There was only one rider that was able to go the full time but it was an exciting event, definitely worth waiting around for....

Shells the obvious questions?

Lee climbingin RAB's Neo Stretch Jacket and Xenon insulation layer

As thethree of us sat on my truck's tailgateyesterday afternoon a group of the local Seattle Mountaineers wandered by. Of course we did a full court press handing out cold pizza and beer to the survivors of their alpine ice climbing field trip.



First questions from those that had read been reading Cold Thistle (btw thanks for the support guys) was, "what was the best and how durable are they?"



"Best" is a tough choice. With the three fabrics listed I think any one could well be the "best". As much as it might seem so, I am not trying to get out of answering the question here.



All the fabrics have some stretch to them. All are water proof or nearly so. And all breath better than any traditionalGoretex shell I have used. And all have totally different features as garments. Those features and how the designs work with the fabric is what makes this all a real horse race imo.





Wetted out shoulder but no leaks yet on the Gortex product



Shoulders on the Mountain Hardware jacket showed no wetting on the *Dry Q Elite*

*Dry Q Elite* and *Active Shell * comparison above



*Active Shell* and *Neoshell* comparison above. ThisNeoshell is 9 months old and just starting to wet out a tiny bit in the shoulder area.

Three days out on the rain is not a test of long term durability or for that matter long term performance. Only my Westcomb APOC made of Neoshell can claim anything even approaching reasonable and it is only 9 months old and I haven't used it that much. Even the difference in9 months of use on Neoshell compared to new Neoshell showed clearly on the "wet through" pack strap and back comparisons we made.



The newest Goretex Active Shell will be an exclusive Outdoor Research product for the first season starting in theSpring. So that material, as good as it obviously was o our trip, isn't even available to the public yet.



But back to the basics...design.



I found it amazing that only one of these jackets had a double slider on the front zipper. That would seem to be a no brainer for a designer on a rain jacket. Obviously to me NONE of the designers ever hiked in their own products in a real rain storm. Because if they had, trust me here, ALL of these jackets would have double sliders on the front zipper!







You'll have to forgive the water logged photos..even my camera was wet at this point.

I like really technical jackets. Not a huge fan of pockets but no pockets or poorly placed pockets is simplyfrustrating in a $300+ jacket. Thankfully the use of a helmet in skiing has everyonemaking shells and insulated jacketsdesigned with afunctional helmet capable hood. It was a longtime coming for climbers. How the pockets are placed and designed make s huge difference on how any of these jackets function, vent and perform for breathability.



The wrong kind of pocket or an overly built jacket will limit much of the fabrics ability to stretch let alone breath. So not every Polartec Neoshell or Goretex Active shell garment is going to perform the same, sadly enough.



The Mountain Hardware jackets of *Dry Q Elite* should at least have similar advantages with their own proprietary fabrics. But I have no idea how far that guess really applies to reality.

New Visitor Center Sneak Peek

Being a "Mount Rainier VIP" (did you realize that volunteers are labeled "VIPs" because they are "Volunteers In Parks?") allowed me to recently take a private tour of the new Jackson Visitor Center and remodeled Paradise Inn.

Both are still under construction (which has consumed the Paradise upper lot for the last 2 summers) but thankfully, that construction is drawing to a close this year. The Paradise Inn will re-open in May and the new Jackson Visitor Center is scheduled to re-open this October.

Exploring the bowels of a major construction site was a fascinating and educational experience. The first notable surprise was how many people were actually involved in the project, and the variety of different tasks they were all doing.

Project safety manager Derek Burr (my tour guide) says there are about 30-40 people working on the visitor center site on any given day. The various specialists include (but are not limited to!):

• Heavy equipment operators
• Carpenters
• Pipe fitters
• Sprinkler pipe fitters
• Plumbers
• Electricians
• Sheet rock workers
• Earth workers
• HVAC technicians
• Iron workers
• Sheet metal workers

Another interesting fact about the visitor center construction site is that it features a "Dance Floor." Not your Saturday Night Fever variety, but a giant platform -- nicknamed the Dance Floor -- that is suspended 24 feet in the air. Above that false floor is another 24 more feet of scaffolding that enables workers access to the fifty-foot high pitched ceilings.

Burr notes that working on the high ceiling was one of the most challenging elements of the project. The Dance Floor was created because they couldn't fit a "lift" inside the doorway of the building.

Another cool feature of this project -- designed to address the weather challenges of Paradise -- is a scaffolding that extends beyond the roof-line by 10 feet. "That way that people can work on the outside of the building from the inside, without being killed by snow falling off the roof,” says Burr.

There are even more people working at the Paradise Inn-- 40-50, says Burr. The goal is to rehabilitate the 86-year old building so that it retains its rustic feel but can better withstand the ravages of time and weather.

To make the building stronger while keeping the historic atmosphere, many of the original beams, planks, and logs in the walls and floors were taken out, reinforced with concrete and steel, and then put back. The Inn has seen a lot of wear and tear over the years. Earthquakes and large snow-loads have made the floor uneven, pushed on the walls and created gaps and even some trenches throughout the structure.

One such trench in the corner of the dining room was so big that Burr wondered if “they were gonna dig up some skeletons?” Seriously though, an NPS archaeologist did examine the area and thankfully, no skeletons were found (Remember... Redrum...).

One big challenge for this type of construction project is to keep employees working at Paradise. "It's not an easy job," says Burr. To those of us who visit Paradise for those gorgeous views and hikes, it might be hard to imagine what could be so difficult about working there. (It beats a cubicle, doesn't it?) But the commute is quite long and many of the workers reside in temporary housing. And then of course, there is always the threat of crashing your truck on a slick icy road that is threatened by avalanches, or the joy of digging it out of the snow daily.

Burr, however, has enjoyed the job and his surroundings. "Some people don't even like to look at the view. But I take as many pictures as I can." Photos by Burr, Agiewich and NPS.

On Living Locally and Seeking Continuity

I was having a political discussion with a friend over email, and in response to something I wrote he replied: "You know, it's really starting to show that you haven't been out of the US in almost a year." Ouch... But the "insult" aside, I realised he was correct: I haven't been out of the country since last July, which is unusual for me. Moreover, we have been without a car since December, making our travel radius limited to cycleable distances. Without explicitly being aware of it, I have transitioned from living "globally" to living "locally," and my friend's insinuation was that this has made me narrow-minded and provincial. Has it? I think not, but I also realise that I don't really care. My quality of life has improved as a result of the changes I've made since last year, and that's difficult to argue with.



We could go on forever debating the "moral" and "social responsibility" implications of living locally vs globally. On the one hand, those who lead lifestyles that rely on air travel are doing a great deal of damage to the environment. On the other hand, one could argue that some international jobs are "important" in their contribution to society, and the scale of this contribution outweighs the degree of environmental damage. But the trouble with these arguments, is that they inevitably lead us to a slippery slope. Who determines what's important? Who has the right to pass that judgment on others, and using what criteria? Are UN workers "good," but fashion reporters "evil"? Is it "wrong to endanger the environment" by traveling to Shanghai just for fun, or is that outweighed by the positive effect of experiencing another culture, growing more tolerant and open-minded as a result? Impossible to say, without imposing our subjective sense of logic on others' sovereignty, which is not something I wish to do.



But the issue of living locally vs globally has personal, psychological implications as well, and these have been on my mind lately. I have an unusual personal history, and have basically never lived in any one place for more than several years at a time. As a result, my life has been fragmented and unstable, which I do not feel is ultimately good for me.When I remember things from my past, I sometimes get confused about the location of an event, and even about the language that was spoken.With my friends, relatives, experiences and memories scattered all over the world, it is difficult to maintain a sense of continuity and even a coherent sense of self. Forming healthy attachments to new people and places is challenging, and replacing the physical reality of personal interaction with virtual communications is isolating.



As we lose our sense of "continuous living," our notions of contact grow increasingly abstract - and not just contact with other people, but contact with our surroundings.I remember a post by Dottie at Let's Go Ride a Bike some time ago, where she describes the lifestyle of her family in the North Carolina suburbs as "traveling from pod to pod." The home is a pod. The workplace is another pod. The restaurant, also a pod. And because of the vast, highway-navigated distances between each, there is no clear sense of what happens in between; it is kind of a dead space, almost a virtual space. I found this imagery to be both frightening and relatable - a reflection of my own anxieties about what our lifestyles are doing to the way we connect with the physical world.



I thought that I might feel limited and stir-crazy once I stopped traveling abroad, and even more so once we began living without a car. Instead I am feeling as if some long-neglected human aspect of me is waking up. Living locally and all that it entails - seeing the same people, experiencing the change of seasons while staying put, and developing a feel for manageable distances - is giving me a sense of continuity that I have been lacking.

Aftermarket Dynamo Lights: a Clean Look

When setting up dynamo lighting on a bicycle with no provisions for it (i.e. no internal routing or special braze-ons), there is always the question of how to route the wiring so that it looks "clean." After all, no one likes to see black wires coiled around a frame's fork and tubes. When setting up the lights on my Rivendell some time ago, the Co-Habitant and I developed a nice method that is practically invisible, and I've been meaning to share it. So when we recently did the same to my Bella Ciao, I made sure to document it.

This method assumes that your bicycle is equipped with fenders, and that you are installing both a headlight and tail light. I will also assume that you already know how to connect the lights themselves; this is not meant to be an electrical tutorial.

The key to our method is using as little wiring as necessary - running it in a straight line parallel to existing stays and tubes, as opposed to coiling it, and securing it with colour-matched zipties. It's a simple idea, but colour-matched zipties really do blend in with the bicycle when all is said and done. You may be surprised to learn that they are available in all sorts of colours - from bright rainbow hues, to neutrals such as clear, white, cream, taupe and gray. We use small gray zipties to route the wire from the tail light along the non-drivetrain side fender chainstay.

In natural light, the result looks like this.

We then proceed along the non-drivetrain side chainstay, using a larger colour-matched ziptie. This frame is a sort of pale military green, and this beige ziptie blends in nicely.

Continuing the same underneath the bottom bracket.

In natural light, the wiring really does "disappear" when routed in this manner, staying close to the chainstay.

If your frame already has shifter cable braze-ons on the downtube as this one does, then you can simply attach the wiring to the shifter cable itself (small black zipties this time). Otherwise, use two large colour-matched zipties for the dwntube, like we did here.

For the headlight, you will need to leave enough wire so that your ability to turn the handlebars is not constricted. We prefer to achieve this by creating a coil here. To do this, simply wrap the wire tightly around a pen or a stick.



And voila, there is your coil. Notice the additional ziptie along the shifter cable, just to keep everything neatly in place.



Finally, use the same colour-matched zipties along the fork as you did along the chainstays, routing the wire to the hub as tautly as possible.



Even frames with internal routing often lack provisions for the fork, and here I find it especially important to find zipties in a colour that blends in with the paint - otherwise it can look as if the fork is cut into pieces, its elegant curvature disturbed. I am using my camera flash to show the process, but in daylight this really looks quite unobtrusive.



In natural light up close.



And from further away.



Having used this method on three bicycles now, I am pleased with it and don't particularly covet frames with provisions for internal routing. Nothing has ever come loose, and visually I am pretty happy with it. You are welcome to use our method, or to share your own.

New Walk Way

Lee is putting in a new walk way by the hay shed. When we built the shed we found that that area was a big mud pit when we had one of our rare rains. We laid old pallets down then laid old plywood sheets on top. After 7 years the plywood decided to come apart. A couple of times Lee or I stepped on a rotten section and almost fell through the pallet underneath. The nails were so loose they didn't want to stay down and we and the dogs kept tripping on them. So the other day after the cold left and we had a couple of warm days we started mixing and pouring cement. This photos showes two sections done. The one in the center is now finished. As soon as it drys we will do the other and I will take a photo of it. It should be a lot nicer even if not as 'authentic' as the old boardwalk.

Bicycle Quarterly: The Art and Science of Velo-Fetishism

[Edited to add: Bicycle Quarterly became a sponsor of this website in December . This post was written 1 year prior to that time.]



As a holiday gift, I received a subscription to Bicycle Quarterly and a set of back-issues containing articles I had been wanting to read for some time. The Winter issue and the older set arrived a little while ago, and I have been in a BQ-induced trance ever since. To describe this publication is challenging, as it defies easy classification. Part quasi-scholarly journal, part illustrated adventure book, something like this could only have been created by somebody with the mind of the relentlessly tenacious scientist and the spirit of the boy explorer. The result is wild, spectacular, engaging and maddening all at once - which is probably more emotion than any periodical has gotten out of me, ever. For that alone, the Bicycle Quarterly is worth every penny of its $30/year subscription fee.



Bicycle Quarterly focuses on randonneuring and cyclo-touring, and on theclassic and vintage bicycles designed for these forms of cycling. Its content includes elaborate bicycle reviews, detailed historical articles, technical articles on frame building and ride quality, travel stories, book and product reviews, and much more in the same vein. But to leave the description at that would be to understate the unique nature of this magazine. First, there are the hand-drawn black and white illustrations. And then, there is the inimitable narrative voice of Jan Heine - both the publisher of Bicycle Quarterly and the author of most of the articles. Dr. Heine writes like a research scientist who, without the pressure of having to publish in peer-reviewed academic journals, has given free reign to his poetic side. With scientific phraseology interwoven with florid descriptions and subjective assertions, it is like some fantastic tapestry that draws me in with the eccentricity of its patterns.



To be sure, the Bicycle Quarterly contains a wealth of carefully researched information, which I find invaluable to my own learning experience. The author is detail-oriented and analytical, conducting in-depth research and getting to the very heart of the matter in every topic he explores. In particular, I have found the rare historical information, and the many articles examining the geometries of classic bicycles extremely useful.The information provided is not something that can easily, if at all, be found online, and so it is a priceless resource. I will be storing these back issues carefully and using them as reference material in the future.



At the same time, Dr. Heine has a very distinctperspective, which must be kept in mind when reading his assertions, reviews and critiques. He favours a specific kind of (1950s French randonneuring) bicycle design and is convinced of the superiority of this design to a degree that, in my view, makes him deeply biased. He also has a number of theories - such as that on "planing," on the virtues of low-trail geometry, and on the superiority of flexible frames - which he tends to treat as fact, or at least as self-fulfilling prophecies. As a trained researcher myself (psychology and neuroscience), I cannot agree that the tests and reviews printed in Bicycle Quarterly are "scientific" - Yet they are presented that way to readers, and that is my biggest criticism of the magazine. Bicycle Quarterly has much to offer - as long as the author's assertions are not taken as gospel by the eager novice. It is the art and (pseudo-)science of velo-fetishism at its best, and I am addicted.

INSIDE: Confessions of a Prairie Home Companion Geek

Robert Altman and Garrison Keillor are my current pinup boys.

I’ve tracked this movie since it was still in the talking stage, with Tom Waits and Lyle Lovett penciled in as Dusty & Lefty. Last summer, fans in Minnesota posted photos on the IMDb, catching the actors at the Fitzgerald Theater. It was fun to see the candid shots, and to catch the Oscar show in February as Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep used Altman’s famous ‘overlapping dialogue’ to demonstrate what a great sister act they’d be in the movie.

Several months ago I printed a poster from the official site for Prairie Home Companion/the Movie and stuck it on the refrigerator. Last week, the June 3rd radio edition of the Prairie Home Companion featured John C. Reilly, Virginia Madsen, and Meryl Streep, who loved making the movie & didn’t want the experience to end.

The PHC songs may be corny, but they can overpower the rational part of your brain, demanding either guffaws or tears. I was glad Meryl Streep sang me to tears with one particular song last week, rather than hearing for the first time yesterday in the theater. The Johnson Sisters’ song about lost Uncles and Aunts could have been devastating, but luckily I’d been ‘hardened off’. [Does that term make this a garden entry instead of a movie post?]

I loved the movie, hope to see it again before it leaves the big screen and have already set aside the money for the eventual DVD. Our hearts stayed in St. Paul although we’d left the theater – at 5 PM the latest episode was broadcast live from right here in Austin, Texas – performed on stage at the Bass Concert Hall on the University of Texas Campus.

Well, it’s time to get that hotdish cookin’, yoo becha, and bake a cahfee-cayke… I’m feelin’ kinda Minnesotan.

[It's now November, and Robert Altman died on the 20th. So A Prairie Home Companion will be the last Robert Altman movie, and I'm feeling very sad about that - but grateful that his works are just a DVD away. Farewell, with love from a longtime fan. Annie]

Sunset at Horsethief Campground

Utah is blessed with five National Parks, two of them near Moab – Arches and Canyonlands. I decided to try and find somewhere else to stay for a couple more nights rather than having to “wait and see” if a camp site was available at Arches.

The road to Canyonlands is a few miles north of Arches but then it is a 30+ mile drive to get into the Park and the campground is a little further in. It is a magnificent drive however. Arriving at the Canyonlands campground I discovered that there are only 12 sites! 12. Of course, they were all taken. Ugh. But, the Ranger says “There is a BLM campground ten miles back from the park entrance.” I had passed it on my way in but didn't check it out because it was on an unpaved road. So I turned around and went back.

Horsethief Campground is on a high plateau with little protection from the wind and other elements but it is in a beautiful location. The amenities are few. A place to park, pit toilets, no water. If you put up a tent you have to use rocks to keep it in place – stakes just can't go through solid rock! But there were a couple of the 60 or so sites still available; I ended up staying there for three nights, using it as a base camp to explore the area – Canyonlands, Arches, and Moab.

It was early afternoon when I arrived at Horsethief Campground and as I was walking back to my site from dropping off payment, there was Hunter (the older gentleman with whom I had shared a site last night at Arches)! He was sitting at a picnic table in the site a short distance from mine. We talked for a few minutes then I headed back to my site. I had decided to spend the afternoon just lazying around, reading a book, relaxing.

It wasn't too much later that the sky quickly darkened and gray clouds moved in above us. I grabbed my chair and book and slid into the van just as rain came pouring down. It lasted a good while, well into the evening and cleared up shortly before sunset. Along with about a dozen other campers, I made my way out of the campground to a little rise for a good view of the sunset. I looked for Hunter but didn't see him. I stopped at his site on the way back to mine but he was no where around. I didn't see him again. In the morning I was just getting out of bed when I heard something hit the windshield. I looked out and Hunter was walking away toward his site. By the time I got out of the van he was gone, but he had left me a note beneath the wiper blade, now soaked by the morning dew. It said, simply “Becky – Happy Trails. Hunter.” What a touching gesture. What a sweet man he was.

If I get nothing else out of this journey, the joy and pleasure of meeting some wonderful people, will suffice. I find it truly amazing how quickly friendships form. We meet someone, spend a few minutes or hours together, then go our separate ways. But the thoughts and memories linger and I often wonder about them. Larry, at Big Bend. Sophia, on top of Angels Landing. Hunter, at Arches and Horsethief. I've been astounded by the people I've met on the trail who, after talking with them for perhaps half an hour, have invited me to visit them when I get in their area – they have given me their email and phone number and fully expect me to contact them. And I just might! This has been an incredible experience thus far – almost nine months on the road – and it isn't over yet!

Bikes, Cameras, (in)Action

As some of you've noticed that my posts have been impersonal lately, I will come clean: My talent for injury has triumphed once again. A few days after arriving in Vienna, I had a silly experience that resulted in a dislocated shoulderblade and injured ribs. The thing about injuries like this, is that nothing can be done about them; you just keep living your life until everything heals - while taking painkillers and anti-inflamatories. For the first week after it happened, I could not move my right arm above the elbow and I couldn't lean forward with the right side of my body. Now I can, but the pain is still there - especially after long days at work. Hopefully by next week I will be all mended and bike-ready.



To ease this pathetic state, I gifted myself a "new" camera (a Rolleicord Ia circa 1941, if that means anything to you). That's the one hanging around my neck with the twin lenses. The one in my hands is a Lumix 3 digital point-and-shoot. And yes, those are bicycles behind me. Ironic, isn't it? I have two bicycles at my disposal... once I have healed enough to ride them, which hopefully will be soon.



[image from Cycling is Good for You]

In other news, I will be getting together with Anna from Cycling Is Good for You once again tomorrow, to have a look at her new Retrovelo Paula - stay tuned!

Lions, Lambs, and White Flowers

Between cool snaps and dark windy days, there are a few warm, sunny, glorious hours. Spring is sneaking in.

We've seen a few swallows, a bat, and lots of mosquitoes and gnats. (I've had two itchy bites already.)

It's not really planting time yet though. At the gardening conference, I tried tying my hands behind my back to keep me from buying any plants so early.

But they had Sun Golds. Last year after reading a book about a New York couple's adventures in market gardening, I looked everywhere for Sun Golds, the cherry tomato that they had praised to the heavens. No joy. I could find the seeds, but they need to be started indoors and there's just no room.

So when a vendor at the conference had Sun Golds, I had to get them. And then I figured I might as well get a few other things as well.

While the tomatoes are in an aggravating "outside during the day - make sure they're out of doggie reach - remember to bring them in at night" arrangement, the lettuce and broccoli could go in the ground right away.

Which of course was a powerful signal to mother nature, to unleash a hail storm and days upon days of rain.

I took these pictures last weekend, before all the bad weather came to town. If sound were an option, in the background you'd hear a husband and a dog begging me to hurry up and quit taking so long.


Bloodroot. One of my favorite spring wildflowers. Even the latin name has blood in it: Sanguinaria canadensis. It looks dainty, but it must be tough if it has the name "Canada" in it and can live in Alabama too.


Rue Anemone (Thalictrum thalictroides or Anemonella thalictroides). A magnified bloom. In real life it's less than an inch (2.5 cm) across.


Toothwort. The genus used to be called dentaria, alluding to the roots that look like teeth, but was changed to cardamine. (If you know why, clue me in.) There are lots of species of toothwort. I think this one is Cardamine concatenata. I've read that you can eat the peppery roots, but I haven't tried it.


Toothwort close up.