I already did the obvious easy ones. Two years ago, when I first travelled in this direction, I led Ants' Line as my first 5.9. It is a great climb, with a short crux and solid pro throughout. It is pumpy, especially if you dilly-dally and don't get on with it. But the vertical crack with great protection seals the deal; it is the first 5.9 for many a climber, and a good choice.
Right next to Ants' Line is the other obvious choice: Bonnie's Roof. Lots of good climbing here, and the crux, while intimidating, has great pro and juggy holds. Many folks think it is easy for the grade, insisting it still deserves its former grade of 5.8.
Once you knock off those two climbs, other entry-level 5.9s aren't quite so easy to find. There are gimmicky ones I've never attempted, such as Arch Direct (aka Wick's Banana), in which a contrived roof problem is thrown in the middle of a 5.5 pitch. Or short ones, like the fifty-foot Red Cabbage, on the Gerdie Block. But I'm not too inspired at the thought of doing these climbs. I have such limited time for climbing. I don't want to do a climb if the only thing I can say in its favor is that it is easy for 5.9. I'd rather get on great classics when I get out.
This past Saturday, climbing with Vass, I looked for some high quality easy 5.9 pitches to try, aiming for climbs whose ratings have floated between 5.8+ and 5.9-. We ended up getting on four of these climbs in the Trapps, and since Vass has been too busy to get out climbing much lately, he was happy to let me lead all the harder stuff.
(Photo: Looking down at the juggy final bits of pitch one of Cold Turkeys)
First up was Cold Turkeys, an obscurity hiding in plain sight amidst some of the highest-quality rock in the Gunks.
The climb sits at the right end of the Arrow Wall, occupying the same corner system as the classic climb Easy V. While Easy V takes a 5.3 path up the inside corner, Cold Turkeys goes up the outside corner at either 5.8, if you follow Dick Williams, or 5.9- if you believe Todd Swain.
I've been curious about Cold Turkeys for a while, because while the Arrow Wall is filled with amazing climbs, they are known mostly for their second pitches. Arrow, Limelight, Annie Oh!, Three Doves (see below), and Red Pillar all feature great second pitches on beautiful, marble-like white rock. But with the exception of Three Doves (and arguably Limelight), none of these climbs has a first pitch that lives up to the second pitch. Last year I tried an alternative way to get to the GT Ledge on the Arrow Wall: pitch one of Snake, a 5.6 at the far left end of the wall. Dick gives this first pitch two stars in his guidebook. And although the early climbing on the pitch wanders, the crux bit up a headwall with a thin vertical crack is very nice indeed, making Snake in my opinion one of the better first pitches in the area. It is a great link-up with pitch two of Red Pillar; I'd much rather take Snake to the GT Ledge than Red Pillar's first pitch, which has maybe two good moves on it above the initial pillar.
I was hoping I might feel the same way about Cold Turkeys that I did about Snake; maybe I'd gain a new favorite pitch in the neighborhood. Dick gives it a star, and I never see anyone doing it. Swain's 5.9- rating further piqued my interest. Why not give it a try?
It turned out to be pretty decent, and a one-move wonder. 5.4-ish climbing up left-facing flakes takes you two-thirds of the way to the GT Ledge. The flakes are pleasant, and the position at the corner is airy. You arrive at a ledge, really the top of a pedestal, beneath an orange face capped by overhangs. There is a shallow left-facing corner directly in front of you. The crux is stepping up onto the orange face, where one thin move up will allow you to move left to the outside corner and a good stance. Then it's smooth sailing up steep 5.6-ish jugs to the GT Ledge.
I thought the one-move crux was nice, and that Dick probably has it right at 5.8. There is also good pro at the waist level for the crux move; I placed two pieces before stepping up. My only reservation about Cold Turkeys is that without overhead pro for the crux move, you're risking an ankle-tweaker fall on the pedestal if you blow it. This factor alone will probably keep me from returning to Cold Turkeys any time soon.
Having completed the pitch, we found ourselves with a great opportunity: Three Doves was open. This is another borderline 5.9 pitch. Dick calls it 5.8+, Swain says 5.9-. Neither Vass nor I had ever done it. I led the 5.8- pitch one last year, and thought it was really very good, featuring fun climbing past horizontals and small overhangs to the exciting crux slabby moves on a clean face to the GT Ledge. Pitch two was a different story. It had always scared me off. It was the same old fear: thin face climbing past a pin.
But on Saturday I decided I was really over this fear. I had become a face-climbing dynamo. So I racked up for Three Doves and attacked pitch two.
The beginning of the pitch is just okay. It heads up from the GT Ledge trending right, and then left, following the pro, to an optional belay tree. Then the blank white face looms above, the lone pin in the middle pointing the way. The pro is good until the crux move, which comes just before the pin. There's a good horizontal at your feet for this move, in which I placed two cams.
Once you make the oh-so-delicate step up to the pin, the blank face continues for a couple more moves to the roof. You can see as you stand at the pin that there is pro at the roof but not before. You need to find some other pro at the pin level or you'll be relying solely on the piton (which looked pretty good, actually). I did my best to back it up. There is a rather shallow little slot below the pin in which I placed a micronut. I carry a biner with three different brands of micronuts on it for just this sort of situation. I kept trying different nuts, finding them acceptable for a pull straight down. But if I pulled them to the left they'd pop right out. Finally I wedged a # 3 Black Diamond micronut in at an angle-- I couldn't make it fit totally sideways. It sat at a diagonal in the crack, and I couldn't pull it out either with a yank down or sideways. I was dubious of this nut, but when my partner Vass inspected it he thought it was good. I was happy not to test it or the pin. I made the next couple thin steps and arrived at the roof with relief.
The traverse moves under the roof are pleasant and well-protected, and a final layback up a cool diagonal crack leads to the bolts. Three Doves is a stellar climb and I think that it fully deserves to be called a 5.9. It definitely features harder moves than the 5.8+ face-climbing on Birdland that I did the week before, and I'd also rate it as harder than the other 5.9s I discuss below. So I'm not sure I'd call it an introductory 5.9. The crux is several moves long and the pro is not entirely ideal. But it is such a high quality climb. It felt great to get it onsight.
(An aside: after Three Doves we did the second pitch of Annie Oh! (5.8), which has somehow eluded me over the years. This ended up being my favorite pitch of the day, with great move after great move, on and on. It doesn't let up until the final step up to the anchor. I had such fun leading it that it felt like it was over too soon; I wished it were twice as long. More evidence that (1) the Arrow Wall is one of the best locations in the Gunks, (2) 5.8 is one of the best grades at the Gunks, and (3) working on 5.9s is a good way to make yourself feel amazing on the 5.8s.)
After we came down from the Arrow Wall we headed to the far-out Slime Wall to check out another 5.9 with a reputation for being soft: WASP. This one is considered a 5.9 by both Williams and Swain, but it used to be rated 5.8. The hard, steep section comes right off the deck, and is over within about 20 feet. After the crux the angle eases and it's 5.5 climbing all the way to the GT ledge.
Now that I've climbed it, I'd say WASP is exactly the beginner's 5.9 climb I was looking for. The first pitch is long, but the 5.9 section is short and on the soft side. There are three or four good moves, none extremely difficult. You follow a thin crack but you don't crack climb. The holds appear on either side. The moves are steep and they come at you in succession. But then before you know it you are at the easy little rooflet and the hard stuff is over.
I thought the pro was great. There are numerous placements. I remember a # 3 Camalot in the obvious pod a few moves off the deck. I also got a great purple C3 behind a constriction in a thin downward-facing crack a little higher. That little cam placement was awesome; it was never going to pop out in a fall. I placed lots of other gear besides this. On WASP, you don't have to rely on some funky old pin.
And then the 5.5 climbing that followed the crux was a mellow bonus. I enjoyed leading all the way up to the GT ledge. Vass then took a turn leading the 5.5 pitch two, which was also well worth doing, at least through the neat roof problem. The last bit to the top was a little dirty.
After WASP, I wasn't sure I needed any more 5.9 in my day. Things were going very well; why push? So we took a little break and climbed Moondance (5.6), a single-pitch climb that Dick gives a single star. Vass took the lead and while it wasn't bad, or a waste of time like Fancy Idiot (5.6), my verdict was "eh." Steep climbing with good holds. It was nice enough but I'd never go out of my way to climb it. The most appealing thing to me about it was the secluded ledge it starts on. You really feel alone there. We didn't bother to do the sister climb Sundance (5.6).
After Moondance I felt re-energized. I told Vass I wanted to hit one more 5.9: Casablanca.
(Photo: Approaching the big roof on Casablanca)
Casablanca is a roof problem climb, and from underneath the roof looks huge. It seems highly unlikely that this roof can go at 5.9 (or 5.8, as Swain says!). Dick says in his guide that there's a jug over the roof; I figured the trick would be getting my feet up and grabbing it.
I was a bundle of nervous energy as I got ready to lead the pitch. Mostly it was the thought of getting over that roof, but I was also worried about the easier climbing below. I'd read some reports of runouts and crappy rock.
But my experience did not bear out these complaints. I thought the climbing was good, fun, and well-protected. The line follows the flakes that provide pro. First you jog right to one flake, then a little left as you pass over a nice 5.7 bulge and head for another flake. More 5.6-5.7 climbing takes you up into orange rock and a notch with some more flakes that do sound a bit hollow when you tap them. But nothing felt loose to me and I thought I got solid pro in a horizontal off to the left. Then a good move over a small overhang takes you to the perch beneath the huge roof, at a big, flexing, left-facing flake.
There is a pin at the wall behind the big flake. I clipped this pin and put a double-length runner on it. But I would not want to fall on this pin. It is really really rusty. One of these days someone is going to rip it right off with his or her bare hands.
I also placed a cam in the horizontal formed by the flexy flake. I wasn't thrilled about this placement either, since the flex in the flake could cause a cam to pop right out. I tried to place a cam as far to the right as I reasonably could, to try to minimize the flex effect. This was easy for me to do with my double ropes; if you are using a single it should still work without too much drag so long as you put a long sling on the piton.
After doing a pull-up on the flake to check my overhead cam placement, I decided this was as good as it would get. I told myself that I had read reports by other climbers who have taken a fall at this roof and that their cams have held. So it was very likely mine would as well.
But I still wasn't about to take a fall here if I could avoid it.
I ventured out for the first time, putting my hands in the flake, getting my feet up. I pawed around, looking for the jug and not finding it. But then I thought I could see it. I stepped down to the better stance and shook out.
Time to go again.
I stepped up for the second time, and now I was pretty sure I knew where the jug was. I threw a heel hook right and tried to reach for it. No dice. I managed to step down again, still not weighting the rope.
I was getting a little pumped. Not too many more tries in the tank. "Stop scouting around," I told myself. "Just get your feet as high as you can and go for it."
I stepped up again, and just popped for the jug with my left hand-- and suddenly I was holding it! It felt really good. I threw a heel, pulled up and I was on top of the roof, letting out a yell and an "Oh yeah!!"
Casablanca is a one-move wonder but a really fun one. The crux is short, and the pro is good IF it holds in that flexy flake. I have my doubts about that, and I shudder to think of what would happen if that rusty pin beneath the roof were tested. Now that I've done Casablanca once I'm not sure I'll be hurrying back. It sure was exciting, though.
A last note about Casablanca: the rap tree just above and left of the crux is not very big to begin with, and it is just about dead. There is one live branch on the thing. I took one look at it and decided it was the single scariest rappel station I have ever seen in the Gunks. I wish I had thought to chop the slings off of it, but I did not. Please don't use this tree. It isn't safe.
I did about half of the 5.5 second pitch instead of stopping there. I continued up and to the right, where there is another tree with slings. This tree appears quite healthy, and it is bigger than the dying tree as well. But if you are climbing with a single rope I don't think you can use this second tree, since it is well more then 100 feet off the ground. We were using doubles so it was no problem for us to do one double-rope rap to the ground. If you have a single rope and you are climbing Casablanca, I would advise you to go all the way to the top, even though from what I did of it the second pitch is not terribly inspiring.
... on a powder blue 
...on a sage green 
... two-tone red and white lugs, on an unusual 
... on an old 
... and some simple, austere lugs on a 
To me, a bicycle frame without lugs just seems to lack soul, and this is probably why I can't feel any attachment to the modern bikes whose manufacturers do not use lugged frames. Seeing those welding marks grates on my nerves like hearing nails on a chalkboard.
I have been feeling pretty comfortable cycling with traffic. The Pashley Princess is so sturdy and reliable, that I feel more like a small car than a bicycle, which gives me the confidence to behave like a motorist. I have always been a nervous driver, but interestingly, I have not had the same anxiety while cycling.
As I began to cycle in the city, I quickly realised that many ideas about cycling I'd held since childhood were counterproductive. Reading up on the topic, including the iconic 
Given the option of using perfectly designed segregated cycling facilities, I would gladly do so. But the reality in North America today, is that vehicular cycling is a de facto necessity, since no proper cycling infrastructure exists. For that reason, I think it is crucial for cyclists to learn the rules and do it properly. A pretty skirt, high heels and a basket will not save you from the dangerous situations that misinformation and lack of skill can create.
Afterlast week's review of the Rivendell Sam Hillborne, it seemed appropriate to follow up with a test ride report of the Betty Foy. I have ridden her a couple of times before, but never had my camera with me until now. Harris Cyclery has just built up a new floor model in my size - so I took the opportunity to take some pictures and put my impressions into words.While the pictures reflect how this particular bicycle was built up, keep in mind that itis fully customisable: You can change everything from the saddle and grips, to the handlebars and pedals, to the type of components that are on the bike.
Rivendell released the Betty Foy in Spring , in conjunction with the diamond frame Sam Hillborne model. Inasmuch as a hand-built, niche-market bicycle can "sell like hotcakes" I believe the Betty does. She is charming, comfortable, and tough - and the ladies love her for that. The price of the frame alone is $1,000 and a fully built up bike starts at $2,200 or so, depending on the options. To see how this bicycle compares price-wise to other lady's frames in its class, please visit my new Semi-Custom Options page (now linked in the upper left-hand corner).
In terms of construction, the Rivendell Betty Foy is a version of the mixte frame: What starts out as a sloped single top tube splits into two stays at the seat tube and continues (at a slightly different angle than the slope of the main top tube) all the way back to the rear dropouts. The frame is lugged, with custom-made lugs in the shape of hearts and elaborate filigreed designs.
There are many cute and feminine touches, such as the downtube decal featuring tiny red apples
and the filled-in curly-cues on the fork crown.Some of the lugs are also filled in with red, complementing the robbin's egg-blue of the frame.
The Betty Foy frame is available in several sizes (47cm, 52cm, 58cm and 62cm), with the middle two built for 650B wheels, the largest built for 700C wheels, and the smallest for 26" wheels. There is enough clearance for 40mm tires plus fenders.
The frame is made for derailleur gearing, and is typically built up with three gears in the front and eight in the rear. There are eyelets and braze-ons for fenders and racks.
Rivendell states that the Betty frame was designed to be built up with Nitto Albatross handlebars - which are wide and swept back, similar to (but wider than) the handlebars you would find on a vintage 3-speed. I have also seen her built up with drop bars, but the upright set-up is more typical.This floor model was fitted with black rubber grips and "thumbie" shifters, though some prefer cork grips and bar-end shifters. 
One thing to note about the Betty Foy, is the unusual sizing: The frame sizes recommended by Rivendell seem larger than what a person would normally ride. For example, I am 5'7" and normally ride a 52-54cm road bike or mixte, yet it is recommended that I ride a 58cm Betty Foy. Having tried both the 52cm and the 58cm frames, I can confirm that the recommendation is accurate. The 52cm Betty Foy felt much too small for me, whereas the 58cm version felt just right. I could have raised the saddle by another inch from the position in which it is shown above, but did not feel like going back inside the shop once I started riding the bike.
I rode the Betty Foy on the roads near Harris Cyclery (actual test ride not pictured), both this time and the previous times I've tried her. It is difficult to compare her to other bicycles on the market, because in a way she is unique. If you are accustomed to road bikes and vintage mixtes, you will find the Betty to be considerably more upright, stable, and comfortable. Sheis more relaxed than a typical mixte and has a long wheelbase - so that there is no toe overlap with the front tire when turning at slow speeds.I also find the step-over height to be lower than on other mixtes I've tried, which is convenient.
In my view, the Betty Foy's greatest asset is her versatility. If you combine the feeling of a vintage 3-speed with that of a derailleur-geared touring bike, she handles like a union of the two: a fast, comfortable bicycle that feels safe and pleasant to ride. I can imagine riding her around the city for transportation, as well as 20 miles over some hills to the next town over. The ride is soft over bumps and potholes (not as soft as on my Sam Hillborne with 42mm tires, but I would need to ride Betty with equally wide tires to compare). Maneuverability in traffic is good, but the handling is not aggressive. I did not ride her on any serious hills, but with the derailleur gearing, the light frame, and the somewhat leaned-forward posture, I imagine it should hardly be a problem. She is what Rivendell says she is: an "all around" bike. If you plan to have only one bicycle for both urban commuting and long distance cycling, this seems like the closest thing on the market to that ideal.
The question I am inevitably asked at this point, is why I did not get a Betty Foy for myself when I was looking for a mixte, if I think she is so great. My main reason, was that I wanted a specific kind of mixte: one with twin lateral stays and proportions that resembled the original French constructeurs. The Betty Foy is not that kind of bicycle. Additionally, I must admit that I find Betty's femininity overwhelming. All the hearts and the bright colours - it's very American 1950s, whereas I am more of a European 1920s kind of girl. And my final reason is ironic - because it is the reason most people love this bike: I don't like the way some of the lugwork is done. If you look at the seat cluster above (see here for what that is), you will notice that the seat stays are welded directly to the main lug, rather than capped. No other Rivendell bicycle is made that way, and I don't know why this model is the exception. Personally, I would rather have a traditionally lugged seat cluster than hearts and curly-cues.
The same is repeated at the junction of the seat tube and support stays. My preference would be for something likethis to have been done here instead. I recognise how nit-picky and obsessive these quibbles are, but little details like this are important to me and I have my preferences when it comes to the way a frame is put together. It's an excellent frame, just not what I was looking for.
These issues aside, the Rivendell Betty Foy is an attractive and well-constructed bicycle. A great deal of thought went into the design, with a special emphasis on versatility - which I feel has been achieved here better than on other bicycles I have owned or tried. And apparently others agree, as the Betty has an excellent record of owner satisfaction. All things considered, I think the Betty Foy's popularity is well deserved.