Port Orford, Oregon Coast

While driving down the coast from Reedsport, Oregon to Crescent City, California we stopped at this beautiful location in the town of Port Orford. The view looking south down the coast was incredible, and it was a perfect day to be making the drive. Coming from northern Minnesota where November days are often completely cloud-covered and the temp typically hovers around 30 to 40 degrees, it sure was nice to enjoy full sunshine and temps in the mid 60's!

Leavenworth ..

Adam and I went out to practice crack climbing in Leavenworth. The original idea was to climb Givler's Crack and do laps on the first part of the second pitch. However, we decided not to do the longer walk and split our time between Gibson's Crack and Dogleg Crack. We got a late start and poked around the canyon a bit before starting as we wanted the sun to warm things up a bit.

I had climbed Gibson's a few years ago, but followed Ian. This time around I wanted to lead it. But I started at the lower start and had placed two pieces in the upper section before I was half way up. Since the crack is fairly uniform in width, I got concerned that I wouldn't have gear to place higher up and bailed off. We set up a top rope and did a few laps each with the obvious crux at the top of the route. My first time through the crux was not pretty and the second time was just fine. I lamented to Adam how this sure gave me a lot of trouble being only a 5.5. I told him I have no problems on the 5.7 Givler's. Which I guess means it was good that we came out and did this as I would rather work on climbs that are giving me difficulty.

Gibson's Crack

After a short break for lunch, we drove over to Dogleg Crack. We hiked around and set up a top rope. I had tried to lead this route last season, but backed off when I found the gear to be almost as difficult as the climbing. I went first, and sort of remembered the moves through the crux, but couldn't seem to sequence them. I lowered off without getting passed it because I was tiring and hanging in the Bod harness was not so comfortable.

Adam gave it a go and was able to struggle his way through the crux before going into an awkward lieback before the climb eases a bit. He hit his high point moments later on the thinner finger crack section and I lowered him because he was pumped. I got back on and struggled and hung through the crux before completing the rest of the pitch with a little fall at the dog leg.

Adam on Dogleg Crack

We were both pretty tired but decided to climb Hind Quarters next to Dogleg. At the crux, our top rope was pulling us too far away from the route to finish, so Adam played with the finger crack a little bit before lowering off. I gave Hind Quarters a go and found myself to be quite tired but at the crux bailed back onto Dogleg to finish. I made my way up for the last time to clean the anchor and walk back down.

It was a strange day as I expected to have a positively easy time on Gibson's Crack and not struggle as badly on Dogleg Crack. I think my previous effort with Lori on Dogleg Crack was aided by taping my hands. I hate to admit that it made that much of a difference, but I really beat up my hands yesterday and struggled more than previously. So it appears to be an obvious connection.

Braking: Not Always Your Friend

The other day I was cycling on a busy road where the city has recently installed those raised-platform intersections to make the cars slow down before crosswalks. Ahead of me, I saw a cyclist brake just as she entered the intersection - probably hoping to reduce the impact of the bump. Watching her, I somehow knew what was going to happen next and winced. And then it happened: As her wheel hit the raised platform, her bicycle flipped over, and she with it. All this occurred at a slow enough speed, so that she wasn't hurt and was soon back on the bike. But I suspect that she has no idea why the fall happened, which means that it might happen to her again.

To me, it has always seemed self-evident that it is "bad" to brake while going over bumps, and watching the cyclist's fall confirmed that. But were there actually any facts behind this belief? I got home and looked it up, stumbling upon Sheldon Brown's explanation.

Bumpy surfaces. On rough surfaces, your wheels may actually bounce up into the air. If there is a chance of this, don't use the front brake. If you apply the front brake while the wheel is airborne, it will stop, and coming down on a stopped front wheel is a Very Bad Thing.

Okay, that makes sense. It has also since been pointed out to me that braking transfers the weight of the bicycle forward, so braking on the bump drives the front wheel right into it. Makes sense as well. So, we essentially have two forces working against us when braking over a bump.

When we find ourselves hurdling towards an obstacle n the road that we cannot avoid, naturally the reflex is to slow down. But this should be done before going over the said obstacle, not during. Braking is your friend, but only when done correctly (brake before the bump, then release before going over it). I would also venture to say that most casual cyclists who use handbrakes do not differentiate between front and rear.

Of course, this is just one more reason why I love coaster brakes for cycling in the city. If you're used to braking with a coaster brake in order to slow down, you do not rely on the front brake as much and are not likely to squeeze it while going over a bump. I know that some will not agree with me on that one, but that is how I see it, and the coaster brake has been a reliable ally for me in pothole-ridden Boston Metro.

About a Year

Looking through the pictures I took of a recent ride along the cherry-blossoming Charles River, I realised that it has been just about a year since I began Lovely Bicycle. I say "about a year", because I am not entirely sure when exactly I started writing vs. publishing the entries. But apparently it was right around this time, as in my first documented bike-ride the blossoms were in bloom as well.



It is customary to conduct some sort of self-assessment when a project like this reaches its 1-year anniversary. But when I think about why I started this website, I feel suddenly inarticulate and a little confused - because honestly I do not have a good reason. I am not an activist and do not seek to promote "a cycling lifestyle". Life has worked out for me in such a way, that personally I have not driven a car since 2007, and I love to ride my bicycle(s) for both transportation and recreation. However, if you happen to own a dozen SUVs and enjoy driving them, that is fine with me. If you collect bicycles solely for the purpose of photographing them in your garden and never actually ride them, that is fine as well. And if you are a die-hard Foresterite vehicular cyclist who hates bike infrastructure and loves 6-lane roads with 40mph+ speed limits, that's wonderful too. You are all welcome, if you feel that you can relate to some aspect of this website.



Neither is the motive of this weblog a diary-style documentation of my life. Those who know me in person are aware that my posts here create an amusingly incomplete and warped presentation of my actual life and personality. And finally, neither was it ever my intent (not that I am in any danger of this) to gain commercial success or recognition for this website.



When I first started Lovely Bicycle, the intent was to review the options that were out there for bicycles that were both practical and aesthetically pleasing for people with lifestyles and tastes similar to mine. This was driven by my own frantic search for a "lovely bicycle" in Spring of . However, the weblog developed far beyond this premise and I am still no closer to explaining what motivates me to continue it - when frankly my life is quite hectic as it is and does not need extra projects.



I will be honest: This discrepancy of the blog getting larger and more time consuming (I now get over a dozen emails per week and it is becoming impossible to answer most of them) with my not having a good explanation for why I am doing this, has caused me some concern and I have considered discontinuing Lovely Bicycle on several occasions. An alternative option could be to start accepting selected sponsorships, and using any earnings from these to at least cut down on some of the consulting projects I do in order to stay financially afloat - thereby freeing up time to continue working on the blog. But I do not have a clear idea of how this could be done while still maintaining the home-made feel of this wesite.



In short, it remains to be determined in what direction Lovely Bicycle will meander next, if at all. But in the meantime, I can't seem to help continuing to take pictures of beautiful bicycles and writing all of this nonsense about them!



While taking the pictures shown in this post, I was approached by a couple who asked me whether their daughter could pose next to my bicycle for their home-made video of the girl reciting "Make Way for Ducklings" by Robert McCloskey. We moved the bicycle closer to the river, and the mother directed the daughter while the father videotaped. They did several takes of the recital and the child was adorable.



Of course I didn't have the heart to tell them that the "ducklings" in the river were in fact geese. Where better for me to share a story of such an encounter, than on Lovely Bicycle?...

Drivers are Not a Different Breed

I have been reading some bicycle blog posts lately where the authors describe feeling betrayed when their non-cycling friends say something nasty about cyclists - you know, the kind of thing a clueless and self-entitled driver might say, but certainly not a friend who happens to be a driver. I mean, they're different, right? Those drivers who cut us off and shout at us are bad people, whereas our friends are good?



Problem is that this difference is fictional. After all, each of those nasty drivers is also someone's dear friend. As hard as it may be to believe, they are not usually "bad" outside the context of being behind the wheel. Likewise, just because someone is our friend does not mean they are incapable of thinking or doing things that would outrage us. We can disagree on issues and never know it until that issue comes up, and my experience has been that cycling is one of those issues - right up there with abortion. Once I began cycling for transportation, I learned fairly quickly not to discuss it with friends, co-workers or relatives who are non-cyclists unless I wanted these conversations to turn into heated debates, or all out fights.



Recently a friend and her husband were visiting Boston, and I met them for dinner at an outdoor cafe. I knew that they were both avid recreational cyclists, so I let my guard down and was speaking to them about bicycles - the pros and cons of different roadbikes, that sort of thing. I was feeling good that finally here was someone from my "real life" I could discuss bikes with. Then some cyclists rode down the street past us and the husband shook his head. "Those idiots are going to get themselves killed." I was confused. "What... Why?" He then explained how stupid it is when cyclists "think they are cars" and cycle "right on the road, without bike lanes or anything." "I hope you don't do that!" he added as my friend nodded. Turns out there is this huge national park where they live, and that is where they ride their bikes - unless it is an organised charity ride, which is the only time they'll go on the road. Not only are they drivers the rest of the time, but having exposure to cycling has done nothing to make them empathise with transportational cyclists. We could have spent the rest of our meal fighting, but instead I changed the subject - it wasn't worth it to me. After dinner they took a taxi to their hotel, and I walked around the corner to where my bike was locked up, then rode home "as if I were a car." Those drivers who hate cyclists could be anyone - our friends, our relatives, and even, apparently, other cyclists. People are people, ever ready to feel frustration and annoyance.

Goodbye Scout

Our dog, Scout died last Friday after nine years with us. She topped out at one hundred pounds and easily took up half the kitchen when prone, so she is leaving a big hole in our lives. I spent part of the weekend packing up her gear, and moving the cats’ food to the kitchen where they can now eat without fear of marauding dog.
Scout has been around for most of my children's lives, and I've had dogs all of my life. Scout was an indoor dog, but when I was growing up there was no such thing. “O-U-T, OUT!” was one of the first words I could spell and say. My father was a firm believer in outdoor dogs, and two dogs were enough.

When I was about eleven, our ancient Cocker Spaniel died, leaving the opportunity for a NEW dog. Unfortunately, we had bad luck in that department. First we got a German Shepherd which already had distemper (unbeknown to us) and promptly expired. Next my mother went around the bend and found a micro dog- a tea cup poodle puppy which soon started itching and never stopped. That one shortly dropped dead, too. Mom, over her small dog thing, went back to the German Shepherd. She took me to see a HEALTHY litter, and we both fell in love- with two different puppies. She wanted the silver handsome boy; I wanted the dark little girl. Much to my shock, Mom caved, and we came home with the two- Fritz and Misty. Dad had a fit. One had to go live at Modern Linen as a watch dog, and my puppy was nominated to be the lucky candidate. I sobbed- the laundry was a horrible, chain linked, concrete jungle. NOOOOOOOOOOO, I wailed. Dad would not relent. I wrote letters. I campaigned. Nothing worked, but we could keep the puppy until she went into heat, then it would have to go. I kept up with my campaign-more heartbreaking letters, and schemes to run away. It was my mother, however, who saved the day. She simply took Misty and got her spayed. End of story, end of discussion, and we kind of lived happily ever after.

But dogs do die before us usually, so even though I should be used to it by now, it is still hard to say farewell to Scout. We will miss the affection she lavished on everyone without discrimination. And I won’t forget the time she came flying down the alley and hit our friend, Mark so hard that he went straight up in the air, his legs knocked right out from under him- in kind of a love slam. Or the time she stuck her head under Annabell, and she ended up involuntarily riding her until she fell off the backside. Scout never bit anyone or anything in anger. She always greeted everyone by sitting so happily at their feet that she would knock them over with her enthusiasm.

We won’t miss how she stole bagels and sandwiches, and even a pork roast once. But the time she got the take out Chinese duck, and left the box clean and in tact inside the bag-well, I have to admit- that took talent. We won’t miss that, but we will miss her. Thanks, Scout. Good dog.

Christmas at the Golden Gate

Well, I wasn't sure where I would be for Christmas... as luck would have it, I found myself in San Francisco on Christmas Eve. I spent the evening at Golden Gate National Recreation Area, overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. I love the Golden Gate Bridge, and it was one of the things I was wanting to photograph again on this trip. Much to my surprise, when I arrived at the area overlooking the bridge I could see a few stars in the sky! I was certain that the city lights would be too bright to be able to see any stars, but thankfully I was wrong. I managed to make an image of the bridge with the constellation Orion visible in the sky above. It was the perfect Christmas gift.



Even though I was "alone" on Christmas, I felt like you were all with me. I received many emails from my friends, followers and supporters wishing me a Merry Christmas. Thanks to you all who took the time to send me a message. Your wishes were much appreciated and made me feel like I was home. I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas as well!