Happy 80th Birthday Mom!

1928 - - 1943
1945 - -1966


1970 - - 1993
1996 - - ..

Big Bend :: Lost Mine Trail

Last summer, I told my brother that I was in the best physical condition that I'd been in for many years. Like maybe more than 30 years ago when I got out of the Navy! What I didn't say was that I was still in woefully poor shape. Well, if I were really physically fit I could have hiked more trails in the Chisos Mountains but I was happy with what I was able to do.

Once piece of advice: Don't take anyone's word on whether a trail is “easy” or not! Based on the advice of one of the people working in the Visitors Center, the first trail I hiked was the Lost Mine Trail. She said it was relatively easy. Let me just say that her idea of easy and mine certainly don't coincide! It was not easy. I later read a trail guide that described it as “somewhat strenuous” which to me was more accurate, but still not quite right. Let's just say it was challenging.

In shape or out, I huffed and puffed nearly all the way on the outbound stretch. The description that I read later said that the Lost Mine Trail “rises to 1100 feet over 2.4 miles” and “provides excellent views of the surrounding mountains and desert” and what that really means is that it was uphill most of the way! Oh yeah, lots of huffing and puffing! But it was a gorgeous day. Blue skies, sunshine, and warm temperatures. Not hot. Not cold. Comfortable.

Casa Grande Peak, looking back on the trail, about a quarter of the way in. This was one of the easier stretches. Thank goodness it wasn't all uphill all of the time!

From the halfway point, looking south. Views like this is what made the trek worthwhile!

And this! The view from the top! Casa Grande on the left. The “v” shaped area is called the window, for reasons I'll explain later. The Basin is the low area in the center and is where the campground was located. The white ribbon streaking through the center is the road leading to the Basin and the Lodge. The Lost Mine Trail began about where the road disappears in the center going toward the Basin.

A zoomed-in shot of the Basin and campground.

Heading down. Again, this is one of the easier sections of the trail. Lots of switchbacks. Lots of rocks. Going down took almost as long as going up. It was also harder on the legs, but much, much easier on the heart and lungs! After 4.8 miles and 3 hours I felt tired, for sure, but also exhilerated. It was my first “long” hike, and I made it back safe and sound.

Photographs taken February 21, ...

The Fort

We also visited the museum and watched a few movies. We had a great day here!

I Doubt that they were Family Pets...

"All Creatures Great And Small" is the topic for the 13th Edition of Smile For The Camera. When I was growing up, the only pets we had were dogs, with creative names such as Buster, Rover, and Bootsie (my post written for the 50th Carnival of Genealogy). I went through nearly every image folder on my hard drive trying to find some other "animal" pictures and re-discovered those below, which were loaned to me for scanning by Aunt Phyllis about four years ago.

Given the size of this horse, I'd have to guess that it was one of the working farm horses. Of course, it may not be as big as it appears - Aunt H. was only about five feet tall.

Bill was my grandmother's brother, William Hale Brubaker (1905-1979). Thag was my grandmother's first cousin, Thagrus Asher Burns (1917-..). Aunt H. was my grandmother's aunt Hazlett (Wise) Burns (1885-1977). Date of photo unknown but Thag looks to be maybe 3-4 years old so it was probably taken about 1920-21.

Uncle Harl was Harlo Asher Burns (1880-1952). He was the husband of Hazlette Wise. I didn't know or remember him since I was only 4 years old when he passed away but according to my mother and her sisters, Uncle Harl was a rather large "somewhat uncouth" man but he loved his family - and his horses! Date of photo unknown.

Uncle Harl in the field with his horses. Date of photo unknown.

Abici Granturismo Donna: Maine Impressions

While in Portland, Maine over the weekend, I rode an Abici bicycle, courtesy of Portland Velocipede. The Co-Habitant and I cycled around town a bit to visit some of our favourite spots from when we lived in the area some time ago. Two things about the city that are of relevance to cyclists: It is hilly, and there are no bike lanes. But not to worry: The hills are short and the lack of bike lanes does not seem to matter. We cycled on the roads, and the biggest obstacle was pedestrian traffic in the waterfront area (It was a Saturday); the cars seemed to be fine with cyclists. At any rate, I felt comfortable enough to get a good impression of the bicycle.

The model I rode was the Abici Granturismo Donna, single speed (also available as a 3-speed), in violet. The colour looks subdued on Abici's website, but in actuality it is highly saturated. I think pastels look good on an Italian bicycle no matter what the colour - though for my personal bike I would prefer something more neutral, like cream or slate gray.



The design of the Abici Granturismois different from classic Dutch bicycles and English roadsters, but typical of an Italian lady's bicycle. The step-through top tube is asymmetrically curved, with the bend happening toward the rear of the bike, unlike a traditional loop-frame. You can see the same design from a number of Italian manufacturers, including Orco Cicli and Bella Ciao. It is also the design of the "Mrs. Cinelli" bicycle I had admired at the Larz Anderson Bicycle Show. (As an aside, I have tried to research the history of this frame style, but have had no success - so would appreciate any information or tips.)



Both the single speed and the 3-speed versions of the Granturismomodel come with a coaster brake and a front caliper brake. The chain is fully enclosed, except for an opening at the rear for easy wheel removal. As far as design goes, the Abici is an appealing bicycle - though a couple of things puzzle me. For example, why was it made with derailleur-style dropouts, if it is designed for internally geared hubs? This is not so much a criticism, as a genuine question. Could it be that they are planning a derailleur version in the future? Also - and this is a minor thing - I was surprised by the lack of headbadge. Is it an intentional act of modesty to place the company's insignia only on a tiny part of the chaincase? If so, it is an interesting concept (but I nonetheless love headbadges!).



Continuing with the scrutiny of the details, here is the seat cluster. This part of the bicycle is beautiful.



Equally well done is the lugged connector between the top tube and downtube. The Abici is gracefully lugged throughout, except...



... yes, except for the welded unicrown fork. The contrast between the wealth of lugwork on other parts of the bike and this fork makes me want to cry. Why Abici, why? I am privy to the wholesale upcharge on lug-crowned forks, and it is not that high.



I know that some of you must be tired of my complaining about unicrown forks, and others might simply not understand what the big deal is, so let me explain my views: If a manufacturer claims to make an elegant, classic, high-end lugged steel bicycle and they go through the trouble of getting the details right and ordering all those complicated lugs, it makes no sense to omit the fork. The fork is a part of the bicycle just like the tubes are, and, in my view, its design ought to match the design of the frame. If the welded unicrown fork is a cost-cutting measure, then why stop there and not make the entire bike welded to match? If you consider this view extreme or unreasonable, then fair enough - but I cannot help my tastes.



Aside from the fork-crown issue, I have no complaints about the Abici Granturismo. On the contrary, handling and riding it was a pleasant surprise, as it was very different from any other city bicycle I had ridden previously. The main thing, is the sporty handling: from the steep-ish angles, to the aggressive sitting position, it handles like a roadbike that happens to be a step-through. It is fast, responsive, and light.



How light? Without exaggeration, it felt like half the weight of a Pashley or a Gazelle. Of course it had no rear rack, no lights, etc., etc. - but even taking that into account, the weight difference is considerable. I could drag a bike like this up and down the front stairs all day without complaining.Of course the downside to a light, sporty bicycle, is that the ride does not feel quite as cushioned as on a humongous Dutch bike or English roadster. So, as they say, choose your poison.



Because of its sporty geometry, I could mostly tackle the Portland hills on theAbiciin its single speed - but the 3-speed would have been better. I should also note that it took me a while to get used to the coaster brake on this particular bike (despite being a lover of coaster brakes). Initially it felt counterintuitive, like having a coaster brake on a roadbike: In an aggressive riding position, you just do not expect to be braking in that manner. But the front brake on the Abici worked extremely well. So, just as I would on an actual roadbike, I ended up using mostly the front brake - activating the coaster brake only on occasion, and eventually getting used to its presence.



The Abici Granturismo Donna is a great choice for those looking for a sportier, lighter, more maneuverable step-through bicycle that is still more or less upright and comes with (or can be fitted with) all the trappings necessary for everyday transportation. Be aware that its handling and weight are radically different from that of classic Dutch bicycles and English roadsters, and whether this is a plus or a minus for you depends on your preferences. The price is very reasonable, and I would seriously consider buying the Abici for myself, if it were not for their choice of fork.



Many thanks to Portland Velocipede for loaning out this bicycle.

3 days of shenanigans

Laura and I planned to go ice climbing with my buddy Matt Johns from Kentucky, Joel Torretti and his buddy Josh Hurst from Maine. Yeah you read right, he came here from Maine. After a start consisting of breakfast at Valley Dairy, shopping for - drill bits, a six pack, twice forgotten pants, non-alcoholic drinks, snacks and probably more. We've learned that buying a sixer around 9:00 am is harder to do than you think... Oh yeah I almost forgot it was raining. Not the best weather for ICE climbing, or is it? Well Matt had to stay in Kentucky so we sadly were Mattless. It ended up being Laura, Joel, Josh and I. After our morning shenanigans, we decided to drive to Meadow Run in Ohiopyle to check out the Upper Meadow amphitheater for potential mixed lines. The rains stopped by the time we arrived in Ohiopyle. Upon pulling into the parking lot we saw the quantity of ice along the Lower Meadow cliff band and decided it was clearly time to climb and check out the Upper later in the day. We spent the morning cranking the mixed lines and even added an alternate left var. to Captain Caveman that traverses left more under the roof before pulling the lip around the last hanging curtain. Slightly longer and harder than Captain Caveman. All kinds of shenanigans going on there. Fun stuff... short and pumpy. Laura busted herself up falling on Anger Management (which some asshole stole the draws off of) so she stayed to climb Hemlock with me and following the advice of Dr. Torretti, decided to head home to heal for tomorrow and Sunday. The 3 of us stayed and climbed a couple more lines and decided to walk to Upper Meadow to eye the amphitheater while we still had a couple of hrs. of light. What can I say... Its steep, burly, has free hangers and pillars galore. Its impressive to see. We explored around looking at potential lines out the steep cave. We decided to work on a line that starts on some ice in the back of the cave and heads up through several overlaps to the free hanging curtain at the lip. Burly, but by no means the most difficult line there. Joel rigged a line from the top while Josh started up the ice and got the first bolt in. I put him on belay as he worked up, go into position and placed the 2nd. He came down and I was up. I went up on lead to the high point and continued up into position and located where to put the 3rd. I didn't get more than a 1/2 inch when the drill was doing no good. The battery was dead. I lowered the drill and proceeded to get myself stuck for a while. After much effort, I was back to the ground. We cleaned up and walked out as it was getting dark. Good ice, good laughs, good fun. 1 down 2 to go. Can't wait to see what tomorrow brings... Enjoy the photos!

The Paradox of Long Rides

Since describing my overnight ride to Maine last week, I've received an unexpected amount of correspondence from readers who feel drawn to long bike rides, but aren't sure they can handle them physically. The only other time I've had such a volume of email, was after my 100 mile ride along the Danube last Autumn - a similar theme. There is considerable interest out there in long distance cycling among those who love bikes but are not necessarily athletic.




Here is an excerpt from an email from Barbara that sums up the sentiment nicely:




"...[I am] not a strong cyclist, but I just loved your description of riding to Maine in the moonlight. I want to do a ride like this so much, it makes me want to cry! Can the weaklings among us experience a similar journey, or am I a hopeless romantic?"




This resonated with me, because it pretty much expresses my own point of view. I love the idea of covering long distances by bicycle, of experiencing beauty and adventure along the way,of bonding with companions as our wheels hum and our headlights illuminate the road. In my imagination, I do not envision this as an athletic activity or an endurance event. Ideally, it would be just a very long bike ride.




And therein lies the paradox: Yes, it is possible to experience long distance cycling from this perspective. But in order to do so, we have to get to the point where we are strong enough, so that a 100+ mile ride feels like a fun adventure and not like a physical feat we've just barely managed to survive. And this, in turn, means working up to it and getting in shape for it.




How is this different from just riding? I suspect there is more than one answer. But the way I interpret it, the crucial difference is that the rides are more structured - with the goal of building up miles, speed, and time in the saddle. Prior to last summer, I never followed any kind of structure, hoping that my endurance and handling skills would just build up organically, inspired by the joy of riding alone. I am sorry to say that this did not happen. Only when I started taking part in club rides,met experienced riding partners,and adapted a more focused approach, did I undergo significant improvements. The structure and discipline changed my body, ultimately giving me more freedom. This may not be the path for everyone, but I am being honest about what it's been like for me.




While the readers who contacted me about long distance riding did so seeking some form of insight, it was in fact I who ended up gaining insight from them; insofar that they helped me recognise this contradiction. I am sometimes asked what my goal in roadcycling is. And I think that my goal, if any, is to get to the point where riding long distance is entirely about the journey and the scenery, not about overcoming physical limitations. But I am willing to work on overcoming those limitations in order to get to that point.