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.

50 Miles Without Coasting

I have ridden Marianne for about 50 miles now as a fixed gear, so I figure that I can offer my impressions without feeling that I am speaking too soon. I have taken her both on city rides in traffic and on trails (the Charles River Trail and the Minuteman Bikeway), both with the Co-Habitant and alone. And I think the fixed gear conversion was the best thing that could have happened to this bicycle.



Popular culture has created the unfortunate association between fixed gear and danger, brightly coloured track bikes, and "hipsters". But that is ridiculous. The only distinguishing feature of a fixed gear bike is that it does not coast. You can turn your loop-frame or your beach cruiser into a fixed gear if you like, set the gearing low, and enjoy pedaling leisurely around town on it. It will be just like a single speed, only you can't coast. That's all.



I know that most people enjoy coasting, but I have never been crazy about it. On my regular bicycles I try to always be in a gear that will allow me to pedal. Coasting - especially at high speeds - makes me feel as if the bicycle is a wild horse galloping out of control and dragging me along, with me barely managing to hold on to the reins. This is especially frightening on winding downhills - so I try to switch into a high enough gear that will allow me to pedal, and then I feel that I have better steering control. I have no idea whether this is based on real physical principles, or whether it is all in my head. But the result is that I welcome the "no coasting" aspect of fixed gear bicycles, rather than think of it as a drawback.



For the same reason, in many ways I find fixed gear bicycles easier to ride, not more difficult. What else is easier about them? Well, remaining stable at very slow speeds - which is a useful skill in the city. You can only coast for so long before your bicycle stops, but if you push on the pedals again, your speed will increase too much. On a fixed gear, you can pedal in slow motion, and the bicycle will remain perfectly stable while going at the exact speed you want, no matter how slow. This is especially useful when you are trying to go around pedestrians, or inch your way forward to the red light at busy intersections. If you have a poor sense of balance and coordination like I do, you may find fixed gear to be helpful in situations that would otherwise leave you flustered.



As I have mentioned earlier, Marianne was a particularly good choice for a fixed gear bike, because her over-responsiveness is now an asset. As before, she turns super-quickly and easily - but now, she does it only when I want her to and the responsiveness no longer feels like "twitchiness" or "squirreliness". It feels like I now have an extremely maneuverable bike, of which I am in full control - as opposed to a bike that was more maneuverable than I could handle.



The thing that took the most getting used to, was trusting the brakes enough to speed up. I kept having to remind myself, that this is not the track bike I rode in Austria; this bike has brakes and I can come to a complete stop any time, just like on a regular bike! After the first couple of rides though, this finally sunk in and I've stopped worrying about braking.



After a couple of days, we re-did the bars by wrapping the entire surface in cork tape, to allow multiple hand positions. We also removed the rear brake (it really was unnecessary) and placed the front brake lever on the right handlebar for easier access. The bell is now mounted on the stem.



My gearing on this bicycle is 42-tooth in the front and 19-tooth in the rear (with 170mm cranks and 27" wheels). That is a pretty non-aggressive gearing that is good for everyday cycling in hilly areas. I may get a smaller rear cog eventually (which will allow me to go faster, but will make things more difficult on hills), but I don't feel the need for that yet.



There has been some discussion about foot retention and whether I plan to get clips for the pedals. On a fixed gear bike, there is the danger of the feet slipping off the pedals, and the pedals then smacking you in the ankles. This can happen when going over bumps at high speeds, or when flying downhill. I do recognise the risk, but let me put it this way: Given that I have brakes and I don't go very fast on this bike, I think there is more chance of my falling as a result of using clips, than there is of my getting smacked with pedals. I may try Powergrips at some point, but I've seen them in a local bikeshop and even they look scary. I did not do well with half-clips. Are Powergrips easier?



I am sure the novelty of the new Marianne will eventually wear off, but for now I can't seem to stop riding her. After a seat post adjustment (more on this later), the bicycle now feels fairly comfortable on rides under 20 miles. Taking it on a very long ride last night was overkill though, and various parts of my body are now hurting. I think I will stick with the Sam Hillborne for those, and leave Marianne for the city.

It's the End of the Highway!

This morning I was later than usual in leaving the campground. It had rained all night. I think there is something about a rainy morning that just makes you want to sleep in. It was 10 o'clock when I left Tok and it was drizzling. I felt sorry for these motorcycle riders who passed me. It can't be much fun riding in the rain.

To the west, the direction I was headed, the skies appeared to be clearing up a bit. To the east, gray, heavy clouds filled the sky. I hoped that Sue and Fred, who were a little more than a day behind, weren't getting a lot of rain.

About ten miles west of Tok I glimpsed this pond out the side window. It took my breath away! I had to turn around and go back. It was just a few feet off the highway. There was no other traffic at the time and I felt as though I was alone with the universe. It was so incredibly beautiful.

The blue skies lasted another twenty minutes down the highway, then the gray stuff made it's way back. A little rain now and then too.

And then, a little over two and a half hours after leaving Tok, there it was. On a curve going into Delta Junction - the “official” end of the Alaska Highway. 1422 miles (nearly 2500 miles since leaving Roosville, Montana). At times it seemed like an endless highway; going up, down, curving around, seldom straight, but tree-lined with glimpses of far off vistas.

I made it! And in a few weeks, I'll have to do it again (at least part of it).

I've been in touch with Sue and Fred along the way. They are a little over a day behind me but we'll meet up on Sunday at Denali National Park. It has been rather comforting, in an odd sort of way I suppose, to know that they were following me. Knowing that they would be along if something happened along the way.

Just before they left Louisiana, Sue started a blog - Notes from the Cabin....and beyond in which she has been chronicling their fall trip. Sue and Fred are what you might call “planners” which is a somewhat different approach to my method of travel. They have had better internet access than I have and Sue has written much more than I have too – and written quite well, I might add. You might enjoy reading what she has to say about their journey...

I'm currently at the very pleasant public library in Delta Junction, immensely enjoying their fast wifi. Shortly, I will be heading north towards Fairbanks. The Tanana Valley State Fair starts today in Fairbanks so I'm a little concerned with finding a place to stay and may stop just before getting to Fairbanks, making it one of the shorter drive-days. I considered taking the Denali Highway over to Denali but it is a gravel road and it has been raining so it can be a bit slippery. Besides I need to refill my cooler and cupboards as I've eaten nearly everything I brought! So toward Fairbanks I'll be heading.

Photographs taken August 6, ...

Sweet Home Alabama - MARDI GRAS

January 29th and we make it to Gulf Shores, AL. We stop at the State Park but there are no sites available. Find a monthly spot at Island Retreat RV Park on Fort Morgan Rd. Lots of snowbirds, the majority are from Michigan.



The weather continues to be colder than we had hoped. This is one of the coldest winters on record. Highs are in the 50's but gets down to the 20's at night. Average temps should be in the 60's.



Enjoy a Mardi Gras Parade up in the town of Fairhope.