If you had been a young man eager to begin a new life back in the early 1900s and you saw something like this photo below, would you have invested several years of your life trying to make a go of it?
South of Murdo in Mellette County, South Dakota
Twenty-five year old Virgil Newton Joslin did just that in 1916. Tired of working for other men he was determined to have a place of his own. He took up homesteading in west-central Mellette County, South Dakota, almost on the eastern edge of The Badlands. His first abode on the homestead was a dugout in the side of a hill. About the same time or shortly thereafter, his parents Luther and Phoebe (Elliott) Joslin joined him on the homestead. Two years later Virgil married Mary Matilda Hutcheson and he built what he called a “tar paper shack.” It was 12x16 feet, constructed of boards and covered in tar paper that was normally used for covering a roof before the shingles are put down.
Soon a son, Irwin, was born. In 1922, the tar paper shack was replaced by the beginnings of a “real” house - a concrete basement. A few years later a daughter was added to the family and then two more sons – Ruth, Jim, and George were all born in the nearest "large" town, White River.
A barn was built. A dam was constructed across a stream and a pond was dug. Virgil and Mary worked hard on their homestead. His parents helped as much as they could. Virgil still had to work for other men to help feed his growing family.
The dream house was never built. The family was caught up in the wrath of Mother Nature. It started with a prolonged drought. Irwin tells about the conditions in the early 1930s in his memoirs:
“For two or three years there was not enough rainfall to produce crops. Then the wind, which always blows in South Dakota, began picking up the dirt from the dry fields and we had dust storms. They might not have been as bad as in the Oklahoma dust bowl, but I recall them lasting for 2-3 days and the fine dust was everywhere...It literally blew all the dirt out of the fields as deep as it had been plowed.”
“In addition to the drought, depression and dust storms we had plagues of insects. Beetles overran the place once and ate anything green that was growing. Another year it was grasshoppers – the big kind that fly. They were so thick that, at times, when they flew over they made a shade like a cloud. they ate everything – even the dried bark off fence posts that had been in the ground for years. They also ate pitch fork handles because of the salty taste of perspiration from our hands.”
“During these times my father did as everyone else did, and kept borrowing money from the local bank and giving livestock and farm implements as collateral. The taxes on the land couldn't be paid in these years either. Everyone hoped for a better year – next year. but it came too late for most of them – their resources ended. My father finally had to just turn it all over to the banker and let the land go back for unpaid taxes. Then we left the homestead.”
In 1928, Luther and Phoebe Joslin had moved to Missouri where a daughter lived. Virgil and his family remained on the homestead until sometime in 1934 when they moved to Martin, South Dakota. A Sheriff's sale held at the homestead in May 1936 raised $2219.31 all of which went to the state. Soon thereafter, Virgil and Mary and the four children moved to Turkey Ridge, Pulaski County, Missouri not far from where his sister and parents lived.
In October 1986, 50 years after the family left Mellette County, South Dakota the four children of Virgil Joslin “revisited” their homestead. Over the years they returned several more times. George and his wife Lorene made a visit there in September of last year and learned that Mellette County was going to have its Centennial Celebration this year. Descendants of the early homesteaders were invited to return. George and Jim began planning the trip and invited me to join them. I'd heard so much about “The Homestead” that I just had to see it for myself!
I was standing a ways south of where the basement house was located, looking to the north. George was trying to determine where the barn had been – he's standing a little right of the center of the photo.
Hardly a trace of the buildings remain – just a few pieces of concrete where the basement house was dug out. Fred is walking down into the hole where the basement was. It is partially filled with debris and junk. When they were here in 1991, they could still see the square walls of the basement, which have begun to cave in.
Looking to the west from the location of the house.
The pond that Virgil dug out. It lies to the north of the house, below the hill.
The view to the East.
And, looking toward the south.
I was quite surprised to see so much green grass, especially this late in the summer, but it has been an unusually wet summer in South Dakota this year, unlike some areas of the country that are experiencing a prolonged drought. It does look inviting. Coming from a land with an abundance of trees and lakes and streams, I enjoy visiting these “desolate looking” places but I would find it difficult to live here. The folks that do have my admiration even if I do think they are a bit crazy!
The Joslin Clan – standing - Richard (descendant of Luther's daughter Phoebe), Me (descendant of Luther's sister Malissa), Tim (son of George), Babs (daughter of Irwin), Joann (daughter of Ruth), Fred (husband of Sue), Sue (daughter of Ruth). Seated are George, Ruth and Jim (children of Virgil). Irwin passed away in 1990. Ten people came from six states: Alabama, Colorado, Indiana, Louisiana, Missouri and Virginia!
Photographs taken August 20th and 21st.
Update August 30, ..: Sue has additional photos of the visit to White River on her blog. Also, see her post The Homestead Tour.
With so many press releases for "Bike Month" events circulating as May approaches, I am starting to feel like a real grouch deleting them or replying "No thank you." But I have to stand by what I believe, or else where would I be? And I believe the idea of "bike month" to be damaging to the very thing it aims to achieve - which is making cycling accessible to the non-cycling population. It seems to me, that the nature of the event, as well as the tone of the promotional materials that accompany it [note: link added 4.23.], reinforce, rather than dispel the notion of cycling as something out of the ordinary - an activity reserved for special occasions and organised events.
Granted, "Bike Month"has a festive ring to it thatmay increase the immediate visibility of cycling. But, as someone with professional experience in the psychology of marketing, I question whether the results are ultimately positive. After all, how useful is this increase in visibility if all it does is reinforce the "cycling = a once-in-a-while activity" or"cycling = weird fringe subculture"associations that the non-cycling public already holds?
It is my view, that in order for cycling to be accessible to the general population, it needs to be normalised and depoliticised. "Anybody who wants to ride a bike can do so any time they like," is the only message I see as being productive. You do not need to wear special clothing. You do not need to wait for a special month. You do not need to be "community oriented," athletic, health-minded, or an environmentalist. And you do not need official propaganda to tell you it's "good for you," accompanied by paradoxical instructions that make the whole thing sound complicated and dangerous.
Cycling is not a cult, political group, or evangelical religion that requires recruitment events with free food and trinkets.Every month is 'bike month.'
I got this bowl at a thrift store. I really like, it just called to me, but hubby didn't care for it. It had no markings on it, and wonder if anyone knows anything about cermanic bowls like this.
Never before have I seen such a head-spinning mix of old and new, big and small, restored and dilapidating - and yes, I've been to East Berlin and many formerly Soviet areas. Here is a gorgeous pre-War villa with wrap-around wrought iron balconies (notice the bicycle path, too).
And here is the view directly across the street.
Construction and renovation projects are everywhere, and it is clear that the city cares about preserving its unique historical buildings.
More variety.
Unusually shaped gables and towers; intricate art nouveau details.
Imposing facades stand "shoulder to shoulder" with tiny houses more characteristic of the countryside.
Wrought iron latticework is everywhere.
And grapevines.
But what about bicycles? Well, a few of the streets in the center do have bike paths. And I was pleased to see that the bicycle symbol in Bucharest comes with a full chaincase. But I do not see many actual bicycles on the streets, let alone any with a chaincase or other classic features.
The lack of cyclists is rather a mystery, because there are clearly some attempts at infrastructure and bike-friendliness going on - like these adorable bicycle racks at a local park.
And this bikeshare station, which appears to be sponsored by a mobile phone provider.
And this advert for a concert. Yet, hardly any any 
One reason for the lack of cycling could be the traffic patterns and the layout. Many streets in the center are wide, multiple-lane boulevards that go on forever and are gridlocked with cars. They do not look very inviting for cyclists. But I have no idea to what extent this is really the cause.
Another thing I am wondering about here, is the abundance of the telephone(?) wires. There are literally wads of wiring hanging off the poles. My colleagues who are traveling with me are all wondering about that.
Here is another view of the wires. Any ideas?
It is too bad that the cycling situation in Bucharest is so dire, because otherwise I like it here very much. It seems that a great deal of resources are being allocated towards keeping the city clean, improving urban infrastructure and transportation, renovating historical buildings, and supporting the arts. There are several sprawling parks here - all beautiful and meticulously well-kept. I have not used the subway yet, but the buses are shiny and new. Little convinience stores and kiosks sell water and ice cream on every corner. People are friendly and polite - no pushing on the streets, pleasant facial expressions, holding doors for each other. If you don't speak Romanian it should not be a problem, as a surprising number of people speaks very fluent English.
Upon returning to the city and getting on my Gazelle again, I was surprised by how different the cycling experience felt from being on my Rivendell.
Normally, I ride both bicycles regularly, so the switch back and forth does not feel remarkable. But after having cycled solely on a roadbike for three weeks, I almost felt as if I had to forcefully uncurl my spine as I transformed from a quadruped to a biped.
While we were away, the Co-Habitant teased that I would get accustomed to using a roadbike for transportation and would probably just keep doing it when we got home - after all, it's faster. But it soon became clear that when it comes to upright bicycles, absence made the heart grow fonder. (Now, if I can just stop trying to use the non-existent bar-end shifters on my poor Dutch bike!)
I think that as upright mammals, we are accustomed to seeing the world from the vantage point of bipedalism and we feel the most relaxed when adopting that posture.It is only natural that people prefer to remain upright when moving through their environment - whether on foot, or on bike, or on public transport. While upright bicycles may not be appropriate for sport or long distance travel, their importance in the realm of "normal cycling" cannot be overstated. Most people considering a bicycle for transportation do not see themselves as "cyclists". They want to be their usual selves, except on a bike. I think the ability to remain an upright mammal is crucial to retaining one's inherent sense of self while cycling for transportation.
Dutchman and I are so taken by the lovely islands in Greece. We have been to many Greek Islands namely, Crete, Santorini, Kos, Zakynthos and a few smaller islands as well. Last year we were in Zakynthos which is part of the Ionian Islands. You can find our summer holiday pictures and stories here (divided by province within Zakynthos Island):
I get lots of questions about what handlebar tape I use on my mixte, so I've taken some close-ups. It's actually not tape at all, but elkhide sew-on city grips from Velo Orange. From a user's viewpoint, these are probably my favourite things to put on upright handlebars, because they feel the most comfortable to grip: not too hard and not to soft, just right. However, from an installer's viewpoint, they are kind of a pain to sew on and it takes forever. I've put them on two of my bicycles so far (the Royal H. and the Gazelle), each time thinking "never again!" while doing it. And yet, they are so comfortable, that I've just ordered another set.
The reason my elkhide grips look like bartape in pictures, is that I do have a layer of cloth tape installed underneath the leather. Doing this provides extra padding without making the gripping surface too soft. And the texture of the cloth tape printing through the leather feels ergonomic to my hands. 
My grips are "espresso," to match my brown Brooks B72. When you first get these, they are kind of a dusty brick colour and don't match the Brooks brown at all - but they do once treated with Proofide (just install them first, then the Proofide). 
As for the installation process... Let's just say lots of profanity was involved both times I sewed these on. VO recommends doing a 2-needle baseball cross-stitch, which is utterly foreign to me. After a half hour of unsuccessfully trying to figure out the instructions and undoing some very ugly sewing, I gave up and used my own stitch, which has held up pretty well since last September. Elkhide is a soft, almost buttery leather that weathers nicely and adapts to the shape of your grip - especially if you install it over a layer or cloth tape. Overall I find that it's worth it, despite the not-so-fun installation.
I have a new-releaseBrooks "Colt" saddle on loan from Harris Cyclery (for comparison with the Gilles Berthoud) and have just received a vintage "Colt"from a reader to try out as well. The weather we've been having has not allowed me to ride either of them just yet, but I thought a side-by-side comparison might be useful for those who are wondering how the re-released version compares to the original (produced 1979-2001).
What attracts me to the "Colt" model, is its shape, which in some ways resembles theSelle Italia "Turbo" and similar models of 1980s Italian racing saddles. Those saddles have fairly narrow (but not too narrow) platforms that gently curve in a way that feels very comfortable to me. But while the foam, plastic and padded leather surfaces of the "Turbo" style saddles start to bother me after a while, the suspended leather of the Brooks "Colt" should solve that problem.
Like the '80s Italian racing saddles, the "Colt" has a fully covered, squarish, down-turned nose. It is the only Brooks model where the nose is styled in this manner, and to me the design holds the promise of anatomical comfort. The new and the vintage versions of the "Colt" appear to be identical in form, dimensions and basic construction - differing only in colour, in the shape of the Brooks placket in the back (see previous picture), and, of course, in the amount of wear.
I have two roadbikes for which I need saddles, and I have more or less decided to keep theBerthoudfor one of them. For the other, I would ideally keep the vintage "Colt," and return the new one. One reason I prefer the vintage version is the classic, rich brown colour (the only normal colour the new release comes in, is black - the other options being purple, mustard, turquoise and hot pink). The other reason, is that everyone complains about the "Colt" being difficult to break in, and the vintage version looks like it has most definitely been broken in by the previous owner.
On the other hand, the vintage saddle may in fact be too broken in. The colour variations in the leather make this difficult to capture in pictures, but basically the sit bone indentations from the previous owner are so deep, that a narrow, raised ridge has formed along the center of the saddle. There are several online tutorials that give instructions for re-shaping saddles that exhibit such distortions, and I am considering doing this. The process (as described by Hilary Stone) basically involves getting the saddle wet, then stuffing it with paper and reshaping it as it dries. Curious about the experience of those who have tried it!