New DMM ice tools..this week

Looks like a lot of lessons learned from Petzl by this picture. Hopefully they can up the game again. And I can't get much from the video but the new toolsare coming. New tools are always fun!




http://dmmclimbing.com/news//01/showing-at-ispo-munich-/






Thanks for the additional link guys!




Even more here: Not so impressive if you are on Petzls already, But the Raptor is very cool and old school.




http://dmmclimbing.com/documents/NewProductsLowRes.pdf

Handmade Dress Guards from Holland, by Simeli

My bicycles are not exactly run-of-the-mill, and they tend to get noticed when I am out and about. But nothing has compared to the effect of installing these dress guards on Marianne. Without exaggeration, the dress guards draw crowds of women, their eyes full of wonder at the sight of these unique creations. Subtle they are not. But they are sure to brighten up your day. I received these dress guards as part of an equal value exchange fromSimeli(a sponsor July - August ), and here are my impressions:



First I must say that I've had the dress guards for some time now, but could not find a bike on which to install them. I was initially hoping to fit them on a loop frame bicycle, but all of mine already had dress guards and removing them would have been a pain. Finally I installed them on my mixte, and the combination is unexpectedly fabulous.



Here is a straight-up view. It is not as typical to install dress guards on a mixte as it is on step-through bicycles, but I really do not see why not. It was done in the past, and in Europe you will find many older mixte bicycles with holes drilled into the fender - evidence that at some point the dress guards were there. If you use your mixte for transportation and you wear fluttery skirts or coats, this is a useful accessory.



This angle gives you an idea of how the dress guards are attached: They connect to the bolts (or the fender stays) at the rear dropouts and to the fenders via clips.The clips are supplied by Simeli along with the dress guards, and are available in a variety of colours. If your fenders are deep enough to fit the clips without rubbing the wheel, you do not need to drill holes. However, please note that the attachment system was designed for the sort of wide, deep fenders that are found on Dutch bikes, English roadsters, and similar bicycles. If you have fenders like the ones pictured on my mixte, the clips will likely rub the tire. We have angled the clips on my bike as best as we could, and they still rub a bit. So if I keep this set-up in the long run, I will drill the fender and re-install the dress guards that way.



Simeli dress guards were designed to work with either 28" or 26" wheels, so anything in between is fine as well. This includes 650B, 27"and 700C wheels. The wheels on my bicycle here are 27" and the dress guards stretch tightly.



Another thing to note is that - like most dress guards - these have an opening to fit over either a "cafe lock" or a caliper brake on the rear wheel (click to enlarge the picture to see the opening). The opening is aligned with the rear stays, so even if you have neither a lock nor a caliper brake on the rear wheel, it is unobtrusive.



As far as performance goes, these dress guards certainly do their job. They cover a large portion of the wheel and are densely knit. Any outfit you could wear is safe from the spokes with these installed. They do not shift or flutter or make any noise (other than the potential problem of the clips rubbing narrow fenders), and they hold up securely.



Of course the singlemost feature one is drawn to when discussing these, is the looks. There are several models offered by Simeli, and all of them feature crochet work in bright, cheerful colours. Mine are pink, lilac and light green, with silvery thread and a row of peralescent beads woven in between (the model is Linde).



Here is a close-up of the colours and the row of beads. If you've been reading this blog, you know that I do not tend to go for colourful designs like this, and instead gravitate towards neutral colour palettes. But it's nice to try new things once in a while, and hey - it's summer after all!



The shimmery aqua-blue of Marianne's frame is too much for me as it is, so I decided to go all out and make her my "technicolor dream coat" bicycle. And that she is!



But the crucial question: Would I buy these dress guards if they were not sent to me for review? I would if they were available in an off-white or natural-hemp sort of colour, or even something silvery or gold-ish. In fact, I am looking for something like that for the new custom mixte we are building up and would even gladly drill the fenders if they prove too tight for the clips. The bright and cheerful colours on the models currently available are not my style - but given the response they get out in the streets, I believe I am in the minority in that respect.



Final note: I've received emails from readers who are interested in the dress guards but cannot understand how to navigate the website (which is entirely in Dutch). If you'd like to order a set or have questions, please just contact Simone(the owner of Simeli) directly. She speaks English and can answer all your questions.

On Beginners Helping Beginners and the Paradox of Expertise

[image via Thomas Hawk]

It's been over two years now since I began cycling as an adult and writing this blog, and I still think of myself as a novice: Two years isn't much. Looking at some of the other female-authored cycling blogs that appeared around the same time as mine,I see a similar pattern: The authors start the blog not to give advice, but to share their experiences as eager, clueless beginners. And over time they become more knowledgeable - helping their readers along the way just as much as their readers help them.



This approach tends to evoke polarised reactions. On the one hand, I've noticed that beginners - and particularly female readers who are just getting into cycling - respond to blogs written by other beginners more than they do to blogs written by experts. On the other hand, there is a great deal of scorn aimed at such blogs in some internet circles - mainly on male-dominated cycling forums. The other day I received a link to a venomous thread where the forum members basically take turns quoting snippets from my posts and mocking my writing. It might have upset me, if I hadn't witnessed a near-identical thread attacking another woman's blog on a different cycling forum several months earlier.The bashing we get from these guys is predictable: We are silly, we are consumerist, we know nothing about cycling yet presume to advise others, and our writing is annoying. Whether they have a point is not for me to judge, and it's useless to defend myself against grown men who get off on mocking other human beings. But I'd like to explore the question of why a beginner's writing about cycling can be more compelling to some audiences than that of an expert.



[image via acme59]

Beginners are enthusiastic.

When we are in the process of learning about something new that excites us, we tend to be more interested in that thing than once we already know everything there is to know about it. The eagerness to learn is what drives us to research and experiment, and then to share our discoveries with others. Once the learning is done, that eagerness subsides and we become less motivated to discuss the topic. We become jaded, we know it all. Why bother write about something that is old news to us? Enthusiasm is contagious, and so is jadedness. That is why a beginner's blog - that gushes about things that seem boring or even silly to experts - is more engaging for those who are trying to learn about the same topic.



[image via simplybike]

Beginners offer documentation.

Blogs written by novices are a bit like note-taking sessions made public. When was the last time you felt compelled to take notes on a process you already knew by heart? There is no motivation for it. Doing things like taking pictures of yourself on your bicycle and describing short rides in elaborate detail seems ridiculous to someone who has done it all thousands of times. But to those for whom cycling is a learning process, documentation is helpful. Novice readers seek out blogs that provide detailed documentation, and those blogs are usually written by other novices, precisely because experts wouldn't bother.



[image via mtwash125]

Beginners are more relatable to other beginners.

Today's post from Dottie on Let's Go Ride a Bike provides some great insight into this one. Dottie describes a commute to work that to her was "just perfect," yet to a novice cyclist was an absolute nightmare. It was a funny discrepancy, but also a telling one. After several years of cycling for transportation, we no longer even notice things like exhaust fumes, vehicles blocking the bike lane, car doors suddenly swinging open into our path, and cars cutting us off. Our methods of dealing with these problems become so automatised that we take them in stride: Overall, it is still a great commute, because nothing unusuallyhorrible has happened. But to beginners who are just mustering up the courage to cycle for transportation, other cyclists are no longer relatable once they reach that level of comfort. And this goes for everything - from transportation cycling, to roadcycling skills, to understanding frame geometry, to being able to work on our own bikes. Little by little, we begin to take stuff for granted and stop bothering to explain it, losing the readers who find our very ineptitude relatable. Paradoxically, while experts know more, they also come across as less approachable and they often write about things in a way that is difficult for non-experts to understand.



[image via Bart Omeu]

Beginners are unselfconscious.

As we gain knowledge in any given topic, there is often a degree of self-cosnciousness and competitiveness that sets in. We want to show that we are not "newbies" anymore and so we become more careful about what we write and how we present ourselves - lest the "cool people" make fun of us. But the nice thing about blogs that haven't reached that stage yet is their sincerity. They don't even know what the right vs the wrong thing to say is, so they express what they actually think.



Despite my two years of writingLovely Bicycle, I feel that I have somehow managed to remain in that state. I am so remarkably uncool as far as "cycling culture" goes, that I cannot even fathom the full extent of my uncoolness. That's one of the things that keeps me going and allows me to continue writing this blog, so as far as I'm concerned it's for the best.I enjoy novice cycling blogs of all types. And I hope that beginners continue to feel motivated to document their growing love of bicycles in their unique, authentic voices without worrying about coming across as silly. Beginners helping other beginners can be of greater value than expert knowledge.

Gunks Routes: Falled on Account of Strain (Pitch 1 5.9), Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow (Pitch 2 5.8)

(Photo: Pointing where I think the route goes on Falled on Account of Strain, pitch two (5.10b).)



Another late-season climbing day, another chance to push the limits.



I had big ideas as Adrian and I headed to the Gunks. I knew Adrian wanted to lead WASP (5.9), which I led earlier this year. WASP sits down at the Slime Wall, near the far end of the Trapps. I've spent very little time down there, so there were a bunch of climbs I was interested in checking out. One of the top climbs on my list was Falled on Account of Strain. The first pitch, which ends at a set of bolts, is rated 5.9. The second pitch goes at 5.10b through an incredible set of gigantic, tiered roofs.



As insane as it might sound, I was thinking I would lead the second pitch. I'd seen pictures of the route; the roofs pulled at me like a magnet. The thought of climbing them had me slobbering with Pavlovian anticipation.



But first we did WASP, and I have to say I wasn't exactly feeling super strong. Following pitch one I found the early moves surprisingly difficult. I caught myself thinking I wasn't sure how I'd feel leading the route, and then remembered that I'd led it a few months ago! I had thought I might try to lead the 5.9 variation climb Stubai to You as our second pitch, but when we got up to the GT Ledge I decided, given that I felt a little tentative, to check out Sticky Gate Direct (5.7) instead. (It was good! A very nice pitch, better than pitch two of WASP.)



Back on the ground, we walked over to Falled on Account of Strain and had a look. I thought we should go for it. Adrian was totally up for the first pitch, and since it ends at bolts we could easily bail from there. I figured I could venture out to look at the roofs and come back if it seemed too hairy. Also Dick Williams suggests as an alternative the second pitch of Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, which goes through the roofs at an easier 5.8 grade. Dick gives Tomorrow x 3 no stars, but I guessed it would still be an interesting alternative, and maybe from the shared rap station we could lower ourselves over Falled and try the crux if it was too scary on lead.





(Photo: Early in the 5.9 pitch one of Falled on Account of Strain.)



We got set up beneath Falled and before getting started I wandered into the woods to take a quick leak. As I stood there amongst the trees I jokingly called over to Adrian "you're on belay, climb when ready!"



"Are you going to belay me," he replied, "or are you just going to stand there with your dick in your hand?"



Maybe you just had to be there, but this became a source of much hilarity for us. "Or are you just going to stand there with your dick in your hand" can be usefully adapted to fit into just about any climbing conversation.



For example:



"So go ahead and give me the rack, whenever you're done standing there with your dick in your hand."



Or:



"I just took this amazing photo of you, while I was holding the rope AND standing here with my dick in my hand."



And so on.



I guess you had to be there.



Anyway, pitch one of Falled on Acoount of Strain turned out to be a very worthwhile climb in its own right. Dick rates it at 5.9 but Swain calls it a 5.9+ and I think Swain has it right. The first moves are 5.6-ish but unprotected, up the face to the left of a thin seam. Once you get some pro in, about 15 feet up, you move to the right and into the crux, thin moves between spaced horizontals. The first of these moves puts your feet even with your last protective gear. Your next pro comes in a blind placement over your head at the next horizontal. Adrian is much taller than me and he had to do a pull up to examine the gear and fix it before making the next moves. Following him, I found that I had to step up fully into the move to examine the gear and get it out. I had to struggle a bit with the piece and I almost popped off while trying to remove it.



Dealing with this one difficult placement is my only real concern about eventually leading this pitch. Afterwards the climbing and the gear get easier to handle.





(Photo: Almost done with pitch one of Falled on Account of Strain. The tiered roofs await, overhead. The pitch one crux comes between the two horizontals visible in the lower right corner of the photograph.)



When I joined Adrian at the belay he asked me if I was really up for leading pitch two. Looking out at the roofs I thought it seemed simple enough to wander over and check them out. I was sure I could get gear in the first tier of the roof system. So long as I could get pro at each tier, I figured, I could keep moving up. There would be no shame in taking a hang, as long as the gear was good and the falls were clean.



And so I ventured forth, promising not to make any moves I couldn't reverse until I was sure about continuing.





(Photo: The point of no return. To continue, or not?)



I traversed easily to the first overhang. There was good gear. I believed I was at the right spot at which to pull up and over to the next tier. There was a lot of chalk even further right, but it seemed to me this was errant chalk, sucker chalk.



I pulled up enough to see if I could get gear at the next tier. I couldn't see any potential placements. This was a major bummer.



What about further right? I ventured over to the sucker chalk and looked up there. But I didn't see any gear over there either.



I wandered back to where I thought the route really went and kept looking it over. I felt a rush of emotions and excitement. I had a decision to make.



Option A: I could commit to the next tier, knowing I would have to move up AGAIN to the final tier before finding any pro. There had to be gear up there, or this thing wouldn't be rated PG, right? But if I committed to this course I doubted I could climb back down and if I popped off it would be a real fall.



Option B: I could give up and traverse back to the anchor.



I hope this doesn't sound too grandiose, but I felt I stood at a sort of crossroads.



I was straddling a line dividing my climbing past and my hoped-for climbing future. A past mired in moderates, and a future involving the real deal. A past of mucking about on ledges, and a future filled with improbable environments and thrilling situations. A past of standing around with my dick in my hand, and a future of bold action.



The atmosphere beneath the overhang was incredible. I wanted to go for it, but I wasn't quite sure I was ready. It had been a great year. Maybe this climb was meant for next year?



Adrian called over to give his opinion.



"You want me to support you, right?"



"No, dude, tell me what you really think."



"It looks crazy to me."



That was all I needed to hear. I decided to traverse back to the anchor and climb Tomorrow x 3 instead.





(Photo: Getting into the 5.8 roof on Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow.)



I'm glad we went ahead and did Tomorrow x 3, because the roof was fun. It is not a cakewalk by any means. The holds are very good, but once you are in the roof you traverse out to the left (with good pro) and it is very strenuous, a little burly, I think, for 5.8.



I later learned that Swain calls this a 5.10 roof, so I could claim this as my second 5.10 Gunks lead... but let's get real. There's no way this is a 5.10. Maybe 5.8+ or 5.9-.



Once you get above the roof, the remaining climbing up and right to the Falled anchor is very dirty/bushy, and not very pleasant. And the fixed station for Falled as of this writing is crap. There is a big old angle piton (rusty but probably fine), three nested rusty pitons (impossible to evaluate), and two equalized nuts in a horizontal, at least one of which has a cable that is almost rusted out. All of it is tied together with ancient, faded, stiff cord and webbing.



I refused to use this anchor. If you go up there, bring some cord/webbing and maybe some nuts to shore up the station. We ended up bushwhacking through filthy territory to the GT Ledge and then we rapped off the Sticky Gate tree, which will get you down with a single 70 meter or with 60 meter doubles.



Adrian later asked me why I am so attracted to these roof problems. I gave him the cold, logical reason: I'm looking for good holds and clean falls. Face climbs of the same grade tend to involve more difficult sequences and more fiddly gear. He responded quite reasonably that he prefers the face climbs because you can stop and think before the crux, whereas with the roofs you know the clock is always ticking. He felt more secure on the 5.9+ face of Falled, for example, than he did in the 5.8 roof on Tomorrow x 3, because on Falled he knew he could chew over the moves as long as he liked before making the commitment.



This is of course a matter of personal preference, with no right answer. What I failed to add to my side of the argument, but what still tips the balance for me, is that the roofs are awesome. To me there's no thrill like getting over a big roof. I guess that's just what makes me a Gunks guy. Looking at the roof photos above, I find it hard to imagine feeling any other way.

Chicken update

Our last remaining Buff Orpington:



We didn't get new chicks this spring. If we don't have too many predator losses we really won't need them. But if the chickens start disappearing at the rate they did last spring, we'll be short on eggs for a while.

Why the coyotes/bobcats/hawks don't go after the roosters, I don't know. We've lost three chickens so far this spring - all hens. We're back to the too many roosters problem of last year.

I'm afraid I've spent too much time with them to use the previous solution. Our sweet Easter Egger rooster will eat out of my hand. Even the Rhode Island Red is nice, if a bit stand-offish. (Email me if you're local and want one of those two!)

Current chicken count:

Roosters:
1 mean Easter Egger, "Stewpot"
1 nice Easter Egger, "Eagle"
1 nice Rhode Island Red, "Big Red"

Hens:
1 White Leghorn
1 Buff Orpington
5 Easter Eggers
1 Dominique
3 Marans

I think that one of the hens is a Dominique. She may be a Marans instead - they look very much alike.

The Marans eggs are lightening over time, and are not all they're cracked up to be in the "really dark eggs" department. Also, they're smallish. But we do get a few speckled eggs from them, which is kind of cool.

The last Rhode Island Red hen got snatched a month or so ago. I guess I've finally stopped crying over missing chickens.

Max power - warning puns ahead.

AKA Max PietrzakMax isamped to meet his potential.Starting from way back in the field and staying positive, Max has charged ahead.



















Climbers,I won't tell you what max does for a living. I don't want you to bug himendlessly for advice on treatments for yoursore tendons and muscles.

Max has generated some renewed energy for this Coolum Cave problem.

I got excited and plugged in for some of this action myself.jjobrien Is that not the sexiest pair of Red Chili Matadors you've seen?

Back to Max

Static moves? Resistance training?



This was no flash. Maxy ran circuits on this problemtill he had it wired, and got the send today.

Onya Max,the boulder editor at jjobrienclimbing admires persistence.

Sandia Mountains in Snow

Taken from my backyard these mountains look really close but they are over 50 miles away. The cities of Rio Rancho and Albuquerque are over the little hill and under the mountains.