Sunday, December 30, 2012

Hairpins

Hair Pins

Only when reviewing the route months later did I realise that I must have climbed for 7 miles to the high point of Cushendall Road. Effortful as this must have beenon a small wheel folding bike, itdid not register as such in my memory. What I do remember: Ascending - almost like floating - through an expanse of short, scraggly pine trees, past a surreal lake with steam rising off it. After that, there were farmlands and more farmlands, with their scatterings of placidly grazing sheep. Before long, I was at the top, and now the foggy glens edged by the sea spread out in front of me. Looking down, it was hard to believe that soon I would be at sea level.




I was not, at that point, used to descents longer than a couple of miles. This one was around 6. It began slow, but the grade steepened as it continued. As I gained momentum, the surrounding grasses and the sea began to blur together with the fog, into one green foamy mess. I felt intermittently dizzy and sleepy. In the distance I glimpses another forest and welcomed the variation in landscape.




When I saw the sharp curve in the road ahead, it was a jolt to my system, even though I had seen the map and knew to expect it. From my vantage point, the hairpin turn looked like a giant version of an actual hairpin. Somehow I'd thought the distinct shape only emerged in aerial pictures, and could not be glimpsed as such in real life from a bike. But there it was in front of me, a hairpin sure as day. There was the flash of recognition of what was about to happen, and then it happened. I reduced speed, then reduced it again, and leaned, and still felt the violent yank of whatever force did not want me to make the turn. But I made it: Braking clumsily, drenched in sweat and on the verge of skidding, I made it. For the rest of the descent I was wide awake.




Another time, back in Boston, I joined a friend on an unfamiliar route through some local hills. Having finished a climb we were about to descend a high traffic road, and she warned me not to pick up too much speed. The wind carried her voice away, but I could make out "Sharp turn! ...end up opposite traffic lane!" Gingerly I cycled around the bend, which I discovered to be another hairpin. Again it stunned me that even with the cars speeding past, even with the row of strip malls in the distance, even with all my energy focused on making the turn while keeping my line of travel, I could make out the shape of the mighty, beautiful hairpin.




So that makes two so far, which is also the number of actual pins I usually wear in my hair. That connection bears no significance what so ever, but it pops into my mind when I use the pins - just one of those silly associations.




Some years ago, a Tyrolean friend told me - in great, descriptive detail - about the Stelvio Pass, with its 48 hairpin turns. A vintage Austrian picture book was produced, dramatic hand gestures were involved. When she said her uncle liked to ride his bike there, I thought she was joking. How could such a thing be possible, on a bike? I felt lightheaded just looking at photos of the bends, scattered through the mountain like pins in some mad woman's hair.

A Ride with Irene

Irene, Toppled TreeAnd so we have weathered the storm. Here in Boston, the general attitude toward Hurricane/ Tropical Storm Irene has mostly been one of sarcasm. Sure, there was some anxiety - stocking up on water and that sort of thing. But for the most part it's been a collective rolling of the eyes, a general feeling that the whole thing was unnecessarily hyped up by the media. One local establishment posted a handwritten sign stating "Closed tomawrah due to wicked bad hurricane!" Other businesses ranted against the public transit system for shutting down - drafting "Closed for the Day Thanks to MBTA" signs explaining that their employees have no way of getting to work - but that otherwise they would have happily remained open.

Irene, Branches on the RoadMy own feeling was that the hurricane/ storm was not so much intentionally overhyped, as unpredictable - and there was a conscious decision to err on the side of caution. I also felt that it was insensitive of some to make light of a potentially destructive phenomenon just because it did not cause havoc in their neighbourhood. We live on the border of Somerville and Cambridge, MA, where the storm felt mild - but it did damage even here. Around mid-day Saturday, a large tree toppled over onto a major road around the corner from us, knocking out power lines and blocking part of the street until the city cleared it away. Had anyone been walking, cycling or driving on that side of the street at that exact moment, they could very well have been killed.

Irene, Toppled TreeToday we carefully cycled around the neighbourhood and discovered more trees uprooted and large branches strewn across side streets.The strange thing is that the wind did not feel all that strong even during the worst of it, so we were surprised to see some fairly large trees knocked over. Does this mean they had shallow root systems?



Irene, Power Lines DownPowerlines were downed in quite a few places, too. One local coffee shop that decided to stay open lost power on Sunday afternoon, yet remained operational for as long as some pre-brewed coffee remained. Customers would come in and sit with their drinks and pastries in the dark - quite happily, since this was one of the very few places open.



Irene, Branches on the RoadSurveying the damage in our neighbourhood, I think that the calls for caution were justified, even if the storm did not reach hurricane level. Overwhelmingly, motorists chose to stay off the roads here and the streets have been mostly empty - which I am certain accounts for the lack of injuries and casualties, considering the fallen trees and dangling powerlines. Cap'n Transit wrote a post a couple of days ago about the connection between driving and hurricane deaths that is worth reading.



I hope that all my East Coast readers are doing well, and that the storm has not been too severe for you. Has anyone been cycling?

Monday, December 24, 2012

Seatpost Setback and Related Matters

Origin8 Seatpost, Zero SetbackA couple of days ago I replaced the seatpost on my Rivendell Sam Hillborne with one that has zero setback, and the change has been interesting. Before I go any further, I will warn you that this is a continuation of the long top tube post. So if that one gave you a headache, please stop reading now and save your sanity! Or, continue at your own risk.



For those new to the concept of setback, seatposts come with different amounts of it. One of the things the setback does is move the saddle clamp back, thus altering a bike's effective seat tube angle. Say your bicycle frame has a 74° seat tube, and you buy a seatpost with 2cm of setback. Unless you counteract the setback by moving the saddle forward along the rails, your bicycle's effective seat tube angle will be 2° slacker, making it more like 72°. And you can make it slacker still by pushing the saddle further backward. By contrast, a seatpost that goes straight up with no setback leaves your frame's natural seat tube angle unaltered. Seat tubes today tend to be steep, so it is rare that anybody wants to make them steeper still. But with a zero-setback seatpost, it is possible to make the effective angle a bit steeper by pushing the saddle forward on the rails.



2 Year Riv SH Frame-a-versaryThe other factor influenced by a seatpost's setback is the reach from saddle to handlebars. The more setback a seatpost has, the further the saddle moves away from the handlebars. Here it is worth noting that bicycle fit experts typically warn against messing with seatpost setback and saddle positioning in order to alter reach. Instead it is advised that one's saddle position preference should be fixed in relation to the bottom bracket. At least that is my understanding.



Getting back to my bike, ithas a 52cm seat tube and a 57.5cm top tube - the latter being unusually long given the former. Additionally, it has a 71.5° seat tube angle, which is atypically slack. In previous posts I explained that when I ride this bicycle, I feel as if my body is not sufficiently forward. The long top tube will not allow me to fit the bike with a stem longer than 7cm, and the slack seat tube puts me further back still.



2 Year Riv SH Frame-a-versaryOriginally the bike was built up with a seatpost with generous setback, making the effective seat tube angle even slacker than its natural 71.5°. Eventually I replaced it with a seatpost that had only minimal setback, but even that did not feel as if I were sufficiently forward. I was reluctant to go with a zero-setback seatpost, because everyone I spoke to acted horrified by the idea. "Zero setback? What are you trying to do, turn it into a racing bike?" However, after the "long top tube" post I came to the conclusion that a zero setback seatpost is the most obvious solution. Far from making the bike "racy," it would simply continue the frame's already slack seat tube angle without slackening it further. Or, I could move the saddle a tiny bit forward and make the effective seat tube angle a rather normal 73° (as it is on my other two bicycles with drop bars). So, that is exactly what I did.



The welcome side-effect of the new saddle position is that the long top tube problem seems to be resolved. My reach has been reduced considerably and I can get a longer stem if I want. But even with the current stem I already feel myself positioned significantly more forward on the bike than before. The subjective sensation of this is greater than I would have predicted: I feel more in control over the steering, and I feel that the bicycle is distinctly faster to accelerate and to start from a stop. Although visually the saddle comes across as being too far forward now, its relationship to the bottom bracket is actually quite normal for a roadbike (off-the-shelf road frames in my size typically have 74-75°seat tube angles). I need to take the bicycle on a longer ride before I can say more, but I think this setup may be just the thing.



It's been exactly two years since I received the Sam Hillborne frame as a holiday gift, and this bicycle has given me over 2,000 happy miles. I've changed a lot as a cyclist over this time and the Sam's frame is quirkier than I initially realised. But I am going to try and make it work for me - hopefully learning a thing or two in the process.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Dunfee Duo

Last December I wrote several posts regarding Aquilla and Eliza (Dunfee) Hoff and their son. In this post, I discussed the possibility that their son Jonathan H. Hoff (last found with his father in Drum Creek Township, Montgomery County, Kansas in 1880) and John Hazlett Hoff (found in Decatur County, Kansas in 1900 & 1910 and Lawrence, Douglas County in 1915, 1920, 1925, and 1930) were the same person.



Shortly after those posts were published, I contacted Cathy, the submitter of one of the most "promising" ancestry trees. We corresponded briefly at the end of December but came to no firm conclusions. In April, she ordered the marriage record for John H. Hoff that "Charlie" a kinexxions reader had located in an online index. It confirmed the names of his parents listed in the index, but didn't really bring us any closer to a conclusion.







Decatur County, Kansas Marriage Application dated March 15, 1892. Parents of Jno. H. Hoff are given as Olen Hoff and Eliza Durfee.



Part of the "issue" is that John H. Hoff is consistently 5 years younger than Jonathan H. Hoff. And there is the family tradition that John was "the only child of along-toward-middle aged parents, had a father 'mostly' German born in the United States. His mother, Irish, was born in Ireland and came to the U.S. in her seventeenth year" and John's parents reportedly died during his "early teen years" and he then went to live with an uncle.



Aquilla Hoff and Eliza Dunfee were married on September 4, 1851 in Ashland County, Ohio. He was 36 years old and she was 38. In the 1860 census, Jonathan is 6 years old. In 1870, he is 16 and in 1880 he is 26 years old - all consistent with an 1854 year of birth. So, yes, he would have been born to "late in life" parents with Aquilla being about 40 and Eliza being 42 years old. And he was an only child.



On his marriage application of March 15, 1892, Jno. H. Hoff gives his age as 33. In the 1900 census, John is listed as born in Nov 1859. In 1910 he is 51 years old. In 1915 he is 55. In 1920 he is 60. In 1925 he is 65. And in 1930 he is 70 years old. All consistent with a birth year of 1859-1860.



According to census records, Aquilla was born in Maryland and Eliza was born in Pennsylvania. My mother and grandmother always said the Dunfees were Scotch-Irish so maybe the "Irish" part in the John Hoff family tradition has some semblance of truth to it. But Eliza was not the immigrant - her parents were both born in Pennsylvania also.



Eliza died on August 6, 1876 probably in Lagrange County, Indiana. She is buried in Greenwood Cemetery in Lagrange County. At that time, Jonathan would have been about 22 years old (i.e. not in his early teens). Aquilla died June 27, 1883 also in Lagrange County. Jonathan would have been about 29 years old. Even subtracting the five years "lost" when given the age of John H. Hoff, it means he would have been 17 and 24 years old when Eliza and Aquilla died.



Of course, I have a theory regarding the age difference between John H. Hoff and Jonathan H. Hoff, assuming that they are indeed the same person. Did vanity enter into the equation? Perhaps John "shaved" 5 years off of his age so that he would not be so much older than his wife Mary who was born in January 1868. Using their ages, she would have been about 14 years younger than Jonathan and about 9 years younger than John.



One idea that Cathy proposed was that maybe Aquilla was John's uncle and that John was adopted by Aquilla and Eliza. But if that is true, he would have been adopted as a much younger child, not one in his young teen years. And there were no other known children for Aquilla and Eliza, especially older children.



So we're back to square one, not knowing with any degree of certainty whether John is Jonathan.



But, entering into the picture is contact with another Dunfee descendant, this one through a brother of Eliza. No, Roger didn't add anything to the information we have, but he did have a photo that really got my attention when I saw it. Roger's ancestor is Jonathan Smith Dunfee who is a brother to Eliza and to my 3rd great-grandfather, William Hamilton Dunfee.



You see, Cathy has a photograph of her great-grandfather John Hazlett Hoff. And Roger has a photo of his great-great-grandfather Jonathan Smith Dunfee. And they both gave me permission to use those photos here on kinexxions.



When I first saw the photo of Jonathan S. Dunfee it immediately called to mind the one of John H. Hoff. I kept clicking between the two and finally got them displayed side by side as shown in the composite below. The resemblance is striking. At least it is to me.







On the left is John Hazlett Hoff and on the right is Jonathan Smith Dunfee. Possibly nephew and uncle. Photos used courtesy of Cathy Hansen and Roger Waller.



But a really neat thing that I was able to do, with Roger's permission, was to give a print of the picture of Jonathan Smith Dunfee to one of his great-grandsons that lives here in Columbia City. Cal is my 3rd cousin twice removed and I've known him for a very long time. Mom and her siblings "always" knew their Dunfee cousins, which I think is pretty cool. I spent yesterday afternoon with Cal and his wife, Ardilla, talking about the Dunfee family, genealogy and numerous other topics. We had a wonderful visit! (As a side note, Ardilla is a grand-aunt of my brother's two oldest boys. Their grandfather is Ardilla's brother.)



A hearty "Thank You" goes out to Cathy and Roger for willingly sharing their research and their wonderful family photographs.



I must say, these last few months have been absolutely fantastic for me in terms of genealogy and family history research! It's been amazing and I can't wait to see what comes along next!



For more information on the Dunfee family, see theIndex to Posts, which is a compilation of all the posts that have been published here at kinexxions on the family.



Monday, December 17, 2012

A Day in Boulder Canyon + Eldo's Yellow Spur (5.9+)





(Photo: A climber on Rewritten (5.7) in Eldorado Canyon. Shot from the top of pitch three of The Yellow Spur (5.9+).)



Two years ago I had my first opportunity to climb in Colorado. I did any easy route called The Bomb (5.4) in Eldorado Canyon with my old friend Greg while I was in the state for a family vacation.



While that experience was a lot of fun, I couldn't help but feel it was also a lost opportunity. Surrounded by legendary, challenging climbs, we had done something well below my ability level, in part because Greg was out of climbing shape and in part due to my own insecurities. After this first taste of Eldo I was determined to get more confident and come back to climb some of the storied classics in the canyon. I hoped that I would some day get the chance.



This year another August family vacation provided that chance. We were in Steamboat Springs for a week, and then planned to be close to Denver for several days before returning to NYC. While near Denver I would have a couple of days to go climbing. With thousands upon thousands of climbs nearby, the possibilities seemed endless.



I had a ready partner in my old mentor Vass. Vass had moved back to Boulder from New York last year. During the time when he lived in NYC, Vass had been one of my best partners. He had really taught me a lot. I admired his calm competence with climbing systems and his reliably good footwork. Although he regularly claimed to be out of good climbing form, he would nevertheless sail up anything I could climb and make it look effortless-- putting my clumsy efforts to shame. Vass always encouraged me to move forward. His support made me feel I was capable of doing more; it seemed I was usually at my best when climbing with Vass. I did my first 5.7, 5.8, and 5.9 leads with him. I was psyched to be climbing with him again, especially since our last climbing day hadn't really gone so well.



We met up on a Sunday and decided to spend our first day in Boulder Canyon getting reacquainted and shaking off the rust. Vass and I figured we could do some moderate sport and trad and then on our second day we could go tackle one of the bigger objectives I was looking to climb in Eldorado Canyon. There were so many long classics in Eldo to choose from, climbs like Rewritten (5.7), the Bastille Crack (5.7+) , Ruper (5.8), the Green Spur (5.9), or maybe even the Yellow Spur (5.9+). But first we'd take a day just to get loose and feel good.



I was excited to check out Boulder Canyon. It is a place with a storied history, but I was afraid I wouldn't really care for all the bolted climbs I'd heard about. (I prefer placing gear.) As we drove in, I found the canyon beautiful, but then all of these Front Range canyons are so beautiful. They really have it good in Colorado. Consistent with its history, Boulder Canyon's climbingis varied. You can find recently (over-) bolted sport climbs up slabs right next to sandbagged old traditional climbs that go up cracks.



Vass suggested we start on Tonnere Tower, a formation withmoderate climbing that unaccountably has been overlooked until relatively recently. Vass was thinking we would warm up on bolted stuff, then once we got bored do some trad climbing. Our first climb was Los Pinos (The Pines), a multi-pitch route that rises right out of the river. I led the first two pitches in one and then we rapped off. This climb has good moves and it made for a nice warm-up. I found the situation with the bolts to be rather curious. There are numerous bolts right next to bomber gear cracks the whole way up, but then the finishing roof on pitch two requires that you place your own pro. I don't know what the route developers were thinking. I couldn't quite make sense of the difficulty ratings either. I thought nothing on the 5.9 pitch two was as hard as the opening slab moves on the 5.8 pitch one. But whatever, it was a good time.







(Photo: Vass leading pitch one of Buried Treasure (5.8+).)



We then went around the corner and did two nice single-pitch sport routes, Twilight Time (5.9+ and fun) and Bobby's Back (supposedly 5.10d). Bobby's Back features rather delicate face climbing for a few moves past the second and third bolts. Though neither of us led it perfectly clean I'm pretty sure I could get it now after doing it once.



We finished our time at Tonnere Tower with a two-pitch sport route called Buried Treasure (5.8+), electing to add to it the 5.10a final pitch of Stayin' Alive. These three pitches had good climbing but if there is a move on Stayin' Alive that is harder than 5.8 I'd like you to show it to me! Putting the difficulty rating aside, Stayin' Alive was the nicest pitch we did on the tower, with good starting face moves and a fun easy dihedral.



By now we had done seven pitches and our day was slipping away. I had enjoyed the climbing so far, but I have to say my initial apprehensions were confirmed. I'd rather do trad lines up natural features than bolted lines up faces. That's just the way I am. Vass wasn't surprised. He said he wanted me to see Castle Rock, which is filled with old-school traditional climbs. We drove over there and Vass sent me up a 5.8 called Bailey's Overhang.



I could tell I was going to like this one before I even got started. Bailey's Overhang is good stuff indeed, a natural line following cracks and a corner up to a big roof. I really enjoyed leading this. I felt solid while jamming through the steep opening moves. Then I scared myself a little at the roof when I couldn't get my right foot up where I wanted it. But my back was against the left wall and there was no way I was going to fall out. After stepping down and resetting the move I got through it just fine. Vass made it look easy using holds to the left that had eluded me.







(Photo: Vass pulling through the roof on Bailey's Overhang (5.8).)



We didn't have much time left so we threw a top rope over a route just left of Bailey's called Curving Crack (5.9). I loved this one as well, and felt very good climbing it. It follows another natural line, a crack up a corner that gets steeper as it rises. Some tense laybacking with somewhat slippery hands gets it done. I wished we'd had time for me to lead it, but it was a great finish to the day.



There is a lifetime of climbing in Boulder Canyon. I'd love to go back to see more.



After our day in Boulder Canyon I decided I was climbing pretty well. I proposed we meet up early on our second day (a Monday) and head straight for my most ambitious objective in Eldorado Canyon: the Yellow Spur (5.9+). I wanted to tackle something big, and this six-pitch classic, which some call the best 5.9 in Colorado, seemed to fit the bill. I felt I was ready to lead the crux pitches.







(Photo: View of the Flatirons from the road into Eldorado Canyon.)



When we got to Eldo I was thrilled to find that the lot was almost empty. We humped up the trail to the far end of the Redgarden Wall to find the area deserted. I was very happy not to have to worry about faster parties breathing down our necks, and psyched not to have an audience for the "problematical" 5.9 first pitch.



This pitch was, for me, the crux of the whole route. It goes up a right-facing corner to a roof. There is a piton in the roof, maybe 15-20 feet off the ground, but it doesn't appear that there is any useful pro before the piton. In his recent guidebook Steve Levin warns of the potential for ground fall if you fail to make the clip at this piton. The climbing here is also a little strange and awkward. There is a good handhold on the side wall, but stepping up to the pin puts you off-balance.



Wemay have set a record by placing four (!) pieces of pro before clipping the pin. First Vass placed a piece for me off to the side before I even left the ground, which he then cleaned once I got other gear. I put a blue Alien in the first finger pocket as soon as I was done using the pocket to step up. And then I placed two equalized micro nuts in a thin seam on the side of the juggy hold on the left wall. I thought the nuts were solid, but I worried that the rock quality might be a problem. I feared that if I fell, the force of the fall would rip the good jug right off the left wall. If that happened, I'd not only hit the ground and break both my legs, but I'd also be known forever as the idiot who changed the standard start of the Yellow Spur from a 5.9 to a 5.11 by destroying the crucial hold.



As luck would have it, I didn't fall. I stemmed wide and was able to reach up, blind, to clip the pin. Then I was able to commit to the slopey rail beneath the pin and make the awkward exit from the corner.



Whew! The rest of the pitch was a breeze, traversing left to an easy roof problem. At least, I thought it was easy. Here is the place where I get to be the guy who says "in the Gunks, this roof would never be a 5.9!" Well, I thought the supposed crux 5.9 roof would probably be rated a 5.7 in the Gunks. There are great holds for the hands and feet. I sailed right over it, feeling great. Being a Gunks climber does at times have its advantages.







(Photo: Vass heading into the 5.8 pitch two hanging corner on the Yellow Spur.)



Pitch two was Vass' lead. This pitch is high quality, with a committing step up into a hanging right-facing corner and a few good 5.8 face moves up the corner to a ledge. My lead of pitch three was also fun, with mostly juggy 5.7 climbing up to an interesting 5.8 V-slot.









(Photo: Sorry for the butt shot, but this is me leading into the 5.8 slot on pitch three of the Yellow Spur.)



Pitch four of the Yellow Spur is where the real business begins again. This was Vass' lead, and while he was up there I wasn't thinking much about what he was doing, because I was preoccupied with getting mentally ready for pitch five, the hardest one on the route. But when he reached the belay and I started to come up behind him, I realized that pitch four is not something to treat lightly. It is not the pitch people talk about the most but it is challenging and pretty fantastic. I was jealous that Vass had led it. The pitch climbs easily up a huge dihedral to a roof, where an exposed, rising hand traverse takes you out and up to a pedestal belay stance. It is rated 5.8+, but I think the traverse is mentally harder than that. There are footholds but they get smaller and smaller as the position gets more and more airy. And then after you commit, turn the corner and start to move up to the pedestal, there more moves to be made before you reach the belay stance.







(Photo: Vass doing the exposed rising traverse on the 5.8+ pitch four of the Yellow Spur.)



And what a belay stance. We were now standing on a tiny shelf, something like 400 feet off the ground, at the base of the final headwall beneath the pointed summit of the Redgarden Wall's Tower One. Above me was a line of pitons showing the way up a steep face at 5.9+. The atmosphere was electric.







(Photo: Looking down on Vass at the pedestal belay below the crux pitch of the Yellow Spur.)



As I stood there I felt pretty sure I was ready. I could hardly contain my excitement. This was exactly what I'd dreamed of, two years before, when I'd first gotten a taste of Eldorado Canyon. I wanted to work hard, get fitter and better, and feel comfortable going somewhere other than the Gunks and jumping on a world-class 5.9.



I was on the verge of making the dream a reality but I had to forget all that and actually climb the thing.



Vass asked me if I wanted to look at the topo but I knew what I had to do and I just wanted to get going. We had been in the shade all morning but now we had emerged into the bright sunshine and I could feel the heat building. It was now or never and I did not want to hesitate.



The pitch is insanely great. It starts out with good holds leading up a crack. After I backed up a piton with a small cam I had to start the hard stuff, making a committing step over to the right using tiny crimps for the hands and small footholds. Once established on the face, several thin, pumpy moves up a shallow corner got me past more pins to a welcome stance. I let out a huge sigh of relief when it was done. I was elated but still had to do the mentally challenging rising traverse up to the exposed arete. Known as the "Robbins Traverse," this beautiful sequence goes at a reasonable 5.7+ but is completely devoid of gear.







(Photo: Vass working through the crux 5.9+ section of pitch five of the Yellow Spur.)



About two steps into this traverse the sequence is devious. There is a 5.7 way to do it but the crucial hold is hidden. Maybe there is an easier way to find it, but I had to make a committing step up using a fragile flake for an undercling. Feeling around with the other hand, in a very tenuous position, I was fortunate to find the right way to go. Once I found the hold, the pitch was in the bag. I lingered over every move to the arete, enjoying the scenery.









(Photo: Vass partway up the 5.6 final pitch to the top of the Yellow Spur.)




My work was done. The final pitch was Vass' lead. Levin rates it at 5.6 R, and itis easy but run out for the second half. It is a beautiful pitch, which I might liken to the arete pitch of Directissima in the Gunks-- if Directissima were several hundred feet higher. It is a fitting payoff for the route, ending the climb on a high note. Vass had no trouble with it, and seemed to enjoy it all the way to the top.







(Photo: taking in the exposure on the final pitch of the Yellow Spur.)



I also enjoyed climbing the final pitch, but as I got close to the top I got very anxious about the weather. A black cloud had suddenly rolled in as Vass began leading the pitch. Both of us felt the storm was likely to just miss us as it passed overhead but I could see rain in the distance and as I climbed I could hear the rumble of thunder growing closer and closer. The top of a pointed tower was the last place I wanted to be during an electrical storm.



Once I reached the top it fell to me to traverse the pointed "roof" of Tower One to reach the Dirty Deed rappel, which was our quickest route to the ground. This rappel route, which goes down a loose chimney, isn't recommended by Levin but on a weekday I wasn't worried about knocking rocks onto climbers below and I wanted to get down as soon as possible. The roof traverse was somewhat nerve-wracking for me, as I did it accompanied by continuing thunder and a few rain drops. I stayed on belay and placed a few pieces of gear along the traverse. (I can't imagine doing it without at least staying roped up.)







(Photo: Hiking down to the car. Goodbye, Eldo.)



Once I reached the rappel station all was well. The skies cleared and we descended without incident.



Climbing the Yellow Spur was one of the most satisfying climbing experiences I've ever had. The route follows a gorgeous line and features numerous interesting cruxes. It lives up to its billing as a destination climb.



But for me it was more than just a great climb. The Yellow Spur validated what I've been doing. I don't get outside enough. I feel like my progress is slow. But climbing the Yellow Spur provided proof that the progress is there; it is real. The whole climb felt within my limits. There was never a moment that felt out of control. We made the right choices throughout the climb and approached it in as safe and reasonable a manner as possible. I could never have climbed it in this fashion this two years ago, when I first visited Eldorado Canyon.



Thank you, Eldo! I don't know when I will ever get back again, but I can't wait.


I'm Not in Kansas Anymore!

Tuesday, May 10th - - It never crossed my mind that I'd spend nearly six days in Kansas, much less enjoy most of it! Crossing over into southeastern Colorado the countryside looked much the same as it had in western Kansas. Fields were under cultivation to begin with but as I ventured further south and west there were more vast expanses of prairie.



However, within a few hours, the view changed dramatically. Mountain peaks touched with a dusting of snow could be seen off in the distance. It wasn't long before they loomed much larger and closer. With the change in view came a dramatic change in daytime temperature – from a high in the upper 90s to a high in the mid 50s. Thank goodness that, unlike the air conditioner, the heater in the van works!





West of Walsenburg, Colorado on U.S. Highway 160/285.

My destination for the night was the Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve, near Alamosa. I had visited there once before, way back in May of 1979.





This time, Mother Nature was definitely not cooperating with me. The further west I traveled, the cloudier it got. Once at The Dunes, the sun would occasionally peek out from behind the clouds, but even then the lighting wasn't that great. This is the view from my campsite. The base of The Dunes is about a mile and a half distant.





The image above and those following have been modified. I was going to say “enhanced” but that is entirely dependent upon who is viewing the images. Since you aren't going to see the originals, suffice to say that I think these are an improvement over the originals, considering the lighting conditions at the time.





Human figures add a little perspective on the size of these dunes. They (The Dunes) truly are magnificent.



And from what I remember from back in 1979, they are extremely difficult to walk on. I did go out to the base of The Dunes but simply did not have the energy or stamina to go any further. Besides, it was getting late in the evening, a strong wind was blowing, and it was cold!





The quality of light was pitiful, and it was nearly gone, but the views were still awesome even though they can't truly be captured by the camera.



Friday, December 14, 2012

The Flow?






"Want to be truly happy? Submerse yourself in something. Anything. As it turns out, we are happiest when we are focused. In the zone, going with the flow, in the moment, call it what you will. But when you are so focused that nothing else can intrude, then you find happiness.



It’s that simple."





And I might agree. Miles of easy turns in perfect spring snowreminded me of that yesterday.



More below in the link from an interesting and unexpected blog I found today working on another project. Still not sure how I ended up there. But hopefully you'll find it as interesting as I did.Enjoy!



http://kimkircher.com//01/14/the-happiness-of-being-in-the-flow/

Thursday, December 6, 2012

It's Electric! A Case of Fear and Loathing?

Zoomi Monterey E-Bike

Every once in a while I am asked why I do not write about electric bikes, and the answer is simple: because they do not interest me. Maybe in 40 years they will, but at the moment I do not find myself longing for a sweet e-assist ride. Still, I have nothing against electric bikes and their usefulness is readily apparent to me: cargo bikes and pedicabs, upright bikes in truly hilly areas, and bikes with assistance for the elderly and others who have a hard time pedaling on their own power. What's not to like?




Yesterday I was cycling across town and a middle-aged man on an e-bike was pedaling in the bike lane just ahead of me. He was going pretty slowly, so I passed him, not giving it a second thought. Then behind me I heard another cyclist passing him, and then I heard that cyclist shout: "Get the f- out of the bike lane you retard!" There was more, and the abuse was directed toward him riding an e-bike - which the regular cyclist did not feel belonged in the bike lane. That was not the first time I'd heard this sentiment. From Interbike last year, I know that the e-bike industry is trying hard to push e-assist onto the cycling market, and I also know that there is resistance among those who see e-bikes as a threat to "real cycling." But I figured meanies will be meanies and soon forgot about the shouting incident.




Then this morning, I saw a link to this articlein the Gothamist, debating whether a $1000 fine for riding an e-bike was overkill (the previous amount was $500). I had not even known that e-bikes were illegal in NYC, but apparently they are. It is illegal to ride them and it is illegal for bike shops to sell them. And now the city is considering a serious crack-down, because the food delivery guys on their "souped up" bikes are out of control, terrorising the peaceful citizens by going as fast as 30mph.




What bothers me about the NYC situation is not specific to e-bikes. It's that instead of the government regulating public behaviour with strictly enforced laws, perfectly useful objects are criminalised. 30mph is a speed that any decent roadie can hit on their racing bike without the help of e-assist. Yet racing bikes are not outlawed in NYC as far as I know. If speed-demon delivery boys are causing problems, set and enforce a speed limit. But the blanket targeting of e-bikes is not logical. When posting a link to the Gothamist article, abicycle blogger wrote: "NYC is flat and small enough that no one needs an e-bike here. Ever." What she means of course, is that she does not feel the need for an e-bike in NYC. Neither do I in Boston. But that line of thinking can just as well be applied to us by others. "Nobody needs to be riding a bike on the road!" is something I've heard too many times. The fear and loathing of e-bikes is just as irrational.




If we're going to outlaw stuff, I personally would like to see a law for motor vehicles to be stripped of doors, since doorings are responsible for countless cyclist injuries and deaths in cities. Make car doors illegal and problem solved. Maybe NYC should get on that.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Where Do You Want to Go, Really?


I was telling a local cyclist about my dream bicycle tour, one I've imagined for years. It is still a matter of wishful thinking for now, but nonetheless I've mapped it all out: 650 miles of cycling up the coast, from the North Shore of Massachusetts to the easternmost tip of Downeast Maine. The coastline is jagged there and hugging it makes for a decidedly circuitous route. And my plan is to hug every curve - to not let the ocean out of my sight if I can help it. The cyclist I was talking to - an experienced bicycle tourist - said that the logistics of my plan sounded solid, but that it seemed like an awful lot of work for such a bleak destination. Do I realise how stark and desolate that area is? The picturesque Maine everyone envisions - with its seaside farms, historical houses and sandy beaches - is actually in the southern part of the state.There are some popular scenic New England routesthat I might want to consider instead.



In fact my choice of route is deliberate and I know exactly what that area is like. Still, I am taking the warning seriously. Often we imagine what we think is a dream destination, only to learn that it's not that great to actually cycle there. It can be a matter of traffic, of overly challenging terrain, of insufficient amenities, or even of scenery that, while beautiful, becomes unexpectedly monotonous at bicycling speed. Or maybe our memory of a place focuses on one specific spot that is stunning to visit, but glosses over the fact that the route to it is in itself unremarkable. I have had these experiences on local rides, so I can certainly imagine the disappointment on a long tour. After all, a tour is something we need to to plan for, take time off work - we want it to be special and worth it.



So how can we tell where we want to go, really? Reading others' ride reports of the route we are considering might be helpful. It's also worth paying attention to what we personally enjoy and don't enjoy about the cycling experience. I know that I prefer rough scenery to the more manicured postcard-pretty stuff.I like sparsely populated areas.I love to see bogs overgrown with green algae, dilapidated barns, ghostly forests. I don't mind badly maintained roads. I prefer as little car traffic as possible and am willing to pay for the backroads experience by climbing extra hills. I do not grow bored of looking at the ocean. But I also cannot ride for long in direct sunlight, and I know that coastal routes tend to have much less shade than inland routes. It's hard to say whether my hypothetical dream ride along the Maine coast will be enjoyable in practice. But it's nice to dream for now.



How have your dream bicycling destinations measured up against reality?

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Double boot, Inner Boots, molding, fitting, styles and options



Spantik with the factory inner (yellow and black) and a Baruntse inner boot (all black)









This commentary will cover some ideas on La Sportiva's Spantik, Baruntse double boots and the newest Scarpa 6000 double boot and tips on the inner boot care and feeding.



Let me start with the Spantik. La Sportiva's literature that comes in the hang tag attached to the boot reads: "INNER BOOT: Micro-perforated thermo-formable PE/ Water-repellent Lorica® with Antiacqua™ external coating INSOLE".





I have been trying to get the information and directions from La Sportiva Italy and La Sportiva NA since the fall of '07 on how exactly you are supposed to "thermo-form" a pair of Spantik inners.



I still haven't gotten an answer from either source.



Luckily I found another source. Thank you James! This was left in one of the blog comments:





From James:

" After months of struggling with the fit on my Spantiks, I just heat formed the inner boots in my home oven. It has greatly improved the fit! The liners are no longer sloppy on my low-volume foot, and the heel lift that I couldn't get rid of is now reduced to negligible levels even when "front pointing" (in my kitchen).



I basically treated them like Intuition liners. I heated my oven to 250F (use convection setting if you have it). I put the liners in the oven (sans insoles) and kept a close eye on them. After about 7 minutes they became very soft--almost a toasted marshmallow consistency to the foam areas. I suspect this is key--if you don't get them hot/soft enough, they won't mold.



Once they attained the slightly alarming marshmallow consistency described above, I pulled them out, stuck my custom insoles in them, put them on my feet, laced them up, put the shells on, and laced those to a moderate tension (i.e., less than would be applied in actual use).



Note that, before putting on the liners, I put spacers between some of my toes (folded-up paper towels), put on toe caps made of old, thick wool socks, and covered it all with a thin liner sock.



After standing in the boots for about 15 minutes, I took them off. The liners are now firmer/stiffer and fit my foot much better. Overall, the boots feel snug and secure but not tight, exactly as they should. Since I have not yet climbed in them, I can't say for certain what the effect on performance will be or how the molded liner will resist pack-out. But given the improvement in fit and how they feel tip-toeing around the house, I expect good things. If they pack out or stretch I will try molding them again. It's also possible that the fit could be further improved with additional molding, use of heat gun, etc., but I'm not inclined to mess with them unless the field performance is less than satisfactory.



I don't know why La Sportiva is so reticent about providing directions for molding these liners--it totally transforms the boot and is an essential step to get the most out of these (very expensive) boots, in my opinion. The lack of information on how to do this made me nervous and kept me from trying it for quite a while, but in the end it was easy. I hope this helps a few other climbers--but please don't blame me if something goes wrong."





OK, so here is my update. After the last failed attempt to mold my own Baruntse liners with the sparse La Sportiva directions with James' info in hand as back up I went to our local master boot fitter, Zach Volmer, at Sturtevant's in Bellevue. (having been a boot fitter in the past, my caution is don't do this at home kids) They have custom fit my ski and most importantly my climbing boots for the past 5 years. But neither of us was brave enough to trash a pair of new Spantik inner boots until today. Luckily again...nothing was hurt, no small animals died as a sacrifice and finally the Spantik can live up to the claim of "thermo formable".



Here are the numbers we used in a boot fitters hot air oven, 225 degrees @ 10 minutes. But a caution if you are doing this at home. It is at the least a two man job and you'll need the proper set of 2 pairs of toe caps, good thin stretch sock and some big plastic bags.



This is what Zach and I did today that actually worked.



10 minutes in the oven until the inner boot's foam "attained the slightly alarmingly marshmallow consistency".



While that is happening. With bare feet add a toe cap while standing on what ever insole you will have in the inner boot. I used both, the flat silver foam insole and the La Sportive "orthodic" insole layered on top. Add a second toe cap that now captures the insoles as well as your toes. Put a tight, light weight sock over all of that to hold it in place.



Pull the fully heated inner boots out of the oven. Quickly...but very carefully.... insert your now stocking feet and toe capped foot and insoles into the hot inner boot. I first did a couple of dry runs before we heated the inner boot to see just how tight my toe capped foot would be in the inner. It helped during actual forming. Lace the inner boot loosely...it is super soft and you could easily wreck your inner boots at this stage by pulling out a lace eyelet. Add a plastic bag to help the inner boot slide into the shell. Adjust top cuff and tongue and lace the outer boot...again loosely. Wrinkles here in the outer boot will give you hot spots on the inner boot later. Now Kick both heel into pocket and toe into front of boot. For the best fit, once all that is done, get a good flat stance and hold in a slightly bent knee position for a few minutes. At 5 minutes walk them till the inner is cold. 10minutes more should do. And you are done.



I got a good custom fit in the Spantik inner boot using this method. Down side? There isn't a lot of foam to move around in the Spantik inner and the ankle hinge area is an obvious week spot in the inner boot design. It is obvious this inner boot won't last for ever. But La Sportiva will sell you a spare set.















Another seemingly down side to the Spantik inner is durability. Eyelets and hooks coming off or breaking plagued the first issue Spantiks. It was so bad I went through three pair before I had climbed three pitches in them.



The hard foam of this inner does not like to flex. If a eyelet or lace fails on the inner boot, having a good fit and good heel hold down is almost impossible. To solve that obvious problem Daniel's pictures show what he did to keep his inner boot working if the lace failed while on a big trip. Call it preventive maintenance.









Spantik shell and a La Sportiva Baruntse inner boot





Next up is the Baruntse inner boot. This time the numbers are 225 degrees at 8 minutes in the same oven. The Baruntse liner will shrink up a full size after being heated so you might want to order it one full size up if you are going to use a Baruntse liner in a Spantik. There are no true half sizes in the Baruntse liner. A 44.5 and the 45 are the same. 43.5 and 44 are the same size.



Better to have this inner too big than too small to start off with if my experience shows anything.

Make sure you don't over tighten the inner or outer shell when lacing this inner boot up when it is still warm and just out of the oven. It is also mandatory that you adjust the inner boot tops and tongue. Work fast but be precise.



Lots of foam in the Baruntse inner. Given the right inner boot size...meaning you want more inner boot than less, the Baruntse inn boot will give any one a great fit if the work is done by a good boot fitter with the proper accessories to do it right.



The final inner boot shown in this picture is from the Scarpa 6000. It is both thin and fragile.

Worse yet it is difficult to get off and on even sitting at home. None of the things that makes me want to trust my ten little piggys to them. But with a little luck the Baruntse linner will also fit in your 6000s if you decide a better inner boot is in order. Mine do.









Summary:

The best of the current inner boots that I have seen is a foam inner that is nylon lined on both the inside and out and made by Palau in France.



www.palau-boutique.com



Lucky La Sportiva decided to use the Palau liners for the Baruntse. I've used the Palau/Baruntse liner in my Spantiks and now again in the Scarpa Phantom 6000s. I think the Baruntse liner is better/warmer that either The Spantik's or 6000's original liner. I know it is lighter. The Palau liner is warm, but not overly thick. It is very easy to dry out, easier than the Spantik's from my and others experience, as there isn't much nylon to absorb water. The lace system will allow you to easily sleep in them on a bivy with both warm and dry feet. They are easy to heat form by any good ski boot fitter and even easier to lace up. They are the lightest inner boot I have weighted including the Intuition or 6000's liner. Spantik's liner is 250g, the Baruntse-Palau is 150g. The nylon lining on the inside and outside of the Baruntse inner boot makes them easy on and off in the mountains and durable compared to an all foam inner boot. The Baruntse linner will also soften up the cuff and flex of a pair of Spaniks a bit. Makes them easier to walk and climb in. If you want a ski boot the Intuition liners in a Spantik will make them stiffer in the ankle. The Baruntse inner, on the other hand, stiffen up a pair of Scarpa 6000 boots enough to make them a better endurance ice boot of long bouts of moderate angled alpine ice.



Purchased directly from La Sportiva NA they are $120 a pair plus shipping. A direct comparison to everything else easily available on the winter boot market shows no down side that I can see, including the retail price.



http://www.sportiva.com/products/cat/A





Spare Baruntse liners were not available last season. In limited numbers and sizes they are available now. If they don't have your size you can also get a pair put on back order by calling Rebecca.



"Oct. 6,

Dear Dane

We are in the process of updating our website and currently do have the Baruntse liners in stock. The cost is $120 plus shipping. I would be happy to place an email/phone order for the Baruntse liners. Let me know what you would like to do.

Cheers!"

Rebecca Carroll
Customer Service Representative
La Sportiva N.A., Inc.
3850 Frontier Ave - Suite 100
Boulder CO 80301
303.443.8710 ext 13
http://www.sportiva.com/






Finally in late ...La Sportiva chimes in:



Heat Moldable Liner Important Instructions:





La Sportiva recommends that you read the following instructions carefully before proceeding to heat mold your boot. The company does not accept any responsibility for damage caused to third parties due to incorrect use of product. La Sportiva recommends that heat molding is carried our at a specialist shop.



Steps to follow for the correct adaptation of the shoe to your foot:



1) Turn on the oven and set to the ideal temperature of 130 degrees C.



2) Put the La Sportiva liner in the oven and leave to warm up for 10/12 minutes.



3) Make sure the external boot shell is completely open and that it is kept at room temperature.



4) Insert the foot bed into the liner to determine the "top-cap" height within the boot. Use a sock to help the foot slide easily into position.



5) Remove the liner from the oven and insert your foot. Make sure that the underfoot seams present are not deformed. Proceed as quickly as possible so that the lining does not cool down thus losing its properties.



6) Fasten the liner tightly.



7) Allow the foot to slip within the liner and the liner shell, keeping the gaiter open. Be careful not to damage the liner in any way.



8) Make sure the heel is well positioned towards the back of the liner.



9) Buckle the external shell with just sufficient adjustment in tension and set the boot aside until completely dry (about 10 minute)







After Care:



•Remove the liner after every outing

•Allow the boot to dry naturally, never by a heat source

•Avoid over heating the liners. Store in a cool dry place during the summer months

•The liners can be hand washed in cold water


Saturday, December 1, 2012

Gretton - Rockingham via plantation

With Eddie, Charlotte and Maureen. Led by me. Sunny, ground frozen, cold wind. 8 miles.





Same route as on Thursday 7 April





We started from the playground on Gretton rec, and followed the path between the new estate and the older houses. It goes by the hedge and continues straight on as far as the surfaced track. Just opposite there are a pair of stiles leading into a grassy field. We crossed this to another pair of stiles. After these the path goes right at about 45 degrees towards a wide gap in the hedge. There we turned right and walked with the hedge on our right, through a few gaps until we came to a stile through a hedge, and on to a track. over the stile on the other side and into a large field,where the path leads slightly right, as indicated by the footpath arrow. As we walked in this direction the metal gate and stile that we were aiming for came into view.





Over the stile to the Gretton- Corby road, and across over another stile. Here there is a short steep slope, which we descended. Then we aimed left at about 45 degrees towards a rather ramshackle stile into the wood.





In the woods, you go down a pretty steep short section of path, just after the stile, and go down to a wide grassy track. Turn left and walk along. There's a notice advising you to keep dogs on leads, and beware of snakes. Today, it was far too cold for any cold-blooded critter to emerge.







After a while the track arrives at a meeting of the ways, and here you need to take care. Not left, not left and slightly back, and not right. More or less straight ahead, with a slight bias to the right. Follow this track to a T-junction and turn left. Don't attempt to cross a quarried 'ravine' ahead. The left turn leads to a stile and on to the Gretton Brook Road. It may be possible to wend your way through the trees and emerge later, but it doesn't look very practicable, and is almost certainly not a public footpath.

From here, follow the Gretton Brook Road, carefully because it can be pretty busy, to the junction with the main road. Keep along this in the same direction until you reach Princewood Road. Follow the footpath/pavement/sidewalk here round through the industrial estate until you come to the area behind the Hampton by Hilton hotel. You can cut through to the main Rockingham Road. The verge is wide enough to walk on, or you can cross over to a surfaced footpath. The road goes past a hotel and the cemetery, and leads to the junction with the A6003. There is a roundabout at the top of Rockingham Hill.

Walk down Rockingham Hill as far as the footpath sign for Gretton - to the left. Continue if you fancy a coffee or more at the tea-shop just after the Sondes Arms.






Charlotte, Eddie and Maureen, ready to climb West Hill!


There is a longish section along roads, but the walks at either end of it make it worthwhile.





More later