Up and Away :: Evening Version

Depending upon the weather, mass ascensions of the balloons are held in the morning and in the early evening. About five o'clock I made my way back to Rotary Park. I could see a bunch of balloons already in the sky and it was an impressive sight!





Even more impressive was seeing the balloons floating just a few feet above the surface of Lake Havasu. Wouldn't it have been fun to be a passenger in either one of the boats or one of the balloons?





There were reportedly six unusually shaped balloons at the festival. This cute little fish is the only one that came close enough so that I could get a nice shot.





Looking to the west, more balloons were ascending. I counted about 40 all in the air at the same time, though not close enough together that you could get them all in one picture.





Another pilot showing off!



For a few brief moments, the sun came out from behind the clouds and the southeastern sky lightened up considerably. I made my way south, toward that spit of land jutting into the lake.





Several balloons landed there but many others continued on further, landing on the southeastern shore of Lake Havasu.





Meanwhile, there were still quite a few balloons drifting off into the western sky.



Carnival rides and other festival activities carried on into the evening, but I did not! I stayed around a few minutes longer, watching the “glow” of some of the balloons still moored on the island.





I also spent a few minutes simply enjoying the awesome sunset that Mother Nature provided for the ending of another beautiful day!



A note about the two photos of the balloons with the golden sky: Those two shots were taken with the camera at the maximum 35x zoom setting and about 20-30 minutes prior to the sunset photo. I made no changes or color corrections to those shots (or any others, for that matter though several had adjustments to contrast and lightness).

Vegan Options for Classic Saddles

[image via somafab.com]

Though I am personally not against using animal products, some of my friends and readers are - which makes bicycle saddle purchases especially difficult for them. The problem is the basic construction of the saddles: There simply aren't any vegan options on the market today that are made in the same manner as suspended leather saddles, whereby a tough yet breathable material is stretched over metal railings like a hammock. So, what is the next best thing in terms of construction? Since saddle preferences are highly personal, I can only tell you what works for me, and hopefully it will be useful to some of you as well.If not suspended leather, then the next best thing for me is anergonomically-shapedsaddle that is a hard plastic shell, covered with a thin layer of synthetic material and very minimal padding in between. I prefer this construction by far over heavy padding or gel, which I find completely unridable. A number of experienced cyclists, such as Jon Forester, recommend these hard saddles over padded ones - the reasoning being, that the padding/gel bunches up under your sitbones and becomes uncomfortable over the course of a ride, whereas a hard plastic support with minimal padding holds up your weight equally.



[image viasomafab.com]

For roadbikes, there are several vegan options available as far as these types of saddles go. Notably, SOMA has recently released the Okami series (above, and the previous image), which comes in black, white, and embossed floral "synthetic leather," with copper-plated rivets. I've heard good things about this saddle, though I personally have not tried it. And it certainly looks classic.



[image via tokyofixedgear.com]

The Japanese manufacturer Kashimax has recently re-issued several colourful models in this tradition, many of which are vegan (just look for the models labeled "plastic" rather than "suede"). Though theKashimaxsaddles look scary-long and uncushioned, I've tried one on a friend's bike and really liked it.

[image via cinelli.it]

Another all-plastic option is the Cinelli Unicanitor re-issue - "the first saddle with a plastic shell in the history of cycling".

[image via cinelli.it]

And a limited edition Barry McGee version, covered with a lightly padded synthetic leather.

[image via chari &co]

Two Italian manufacturers have re-issued their original versions of these classic saddles as well. Selle Italia has released several versions of the classic "Turbo" model. I have ridden on several vintage Turbo saddles and loved them, so this would probably my vegan saddle of choice for a roadbike. There is something about the squarish back, the sloping sides and the down-turned nose that I find very comfortable.

[image via sellesanmarco.it]

The Concor release by Selle San Marco is a similar design to the Turbo, though I have not tried these personally. And SOMA's Ta-Bois yet another version.



[image via selleroyal.com]

Now, as far as saddles for upright bicycles go, I am not really sure what to tell you. I have not found a good vegan alternative to a sprung leather saddle, so these are more like "the lesser evil" suggestions. The Ondina model by Selle Royal (above image) is a mattress-style saddle. It is more evenly padded than other models I've tried, and resists bunching up. I have ridden on this saddle and thought it was fine for a short urban ride.



[image via lepper.nl]

I have also tried the mattress-styleLepper saddles (which come standard on many Dutch bikes), and those are similar to the Selle Royal, though with a more boxy profile. They are also usually quite heavy and the springs are enormous.



[image viaelectrabike.com]



Electra offers a number of vintage-inspired saddles that look the part, and aren't as horrendously over-padded as others I've seen - including these narrower styles that would work well on a mixte.

[image via electrabike.com]

Electra alsosells a lot of colourful models that could work well on a traditional bike. After all, a classic look does not necessarily need to imitate leather.

[image via nirve.com]

The cruiser manufacturer Nirve offers a number of traditional styles as well, including the riveted saddle pictured above and a number of floral-embossed models.

[image vianirve.com]

And another classic design by Nirve, with the "diamond" pattern popular on cruisers. If you are going for looks alone, there is a great deal to choose from between Nirve and Electra, but ride quality reports for these vary considerably.

If you have experience with any of the saddles listed here, please share your thoughts. And if you have other vegan alternatives to recommend for those who do not wish to buy leather saddles, your suggestions would be much appreciated.

Understanding Hills

Like Eskimos are said to have many words for snow, it seems to me that cyclists ought to have many words for hills. After all, what does it really mean when terrain is described as "hilly?" There are the short city hills that only seem like hills when I ride my upright 3-speed, there are the long and annoying false flats, the rollers, the twisty hills, the mountain passes.My perception of hills also changes over time. Rides I considered hilly a year ago, I now think of as "mostly flat," in light of some other hills I've ridden. And then I get annoyed at myself, because I remember when others described those rides as "mostly flat" and I felt bad, because to me they certainly seemed hilly. Hills are a fluid concept.





The more hills I ride, the more I realise that steepness and duration alone are not what makes them easy or difficult for me. More than anything, the pattern of grade change can make all the difference between enjoying the challenge of the climb and hating it. On a hill with a consistent grade, I can "settle into" the climb, whereas a hill with erratic grade changes drains my energy much faster. In the picture here I am standing atop of a relatively mild, but much despised hill after just having climbed it. It's hard to explain why I hate this stretch of incline so much, but it messes with my head. Starting immediately after a traffic light near the center of Lexington, it initially acts like a normal hill and as I near the top, I feel a sense of accomplishment: almost made it. But just as I reach what appears to be the crest of it - and this gets me every time - not only does it continue, but suddenly it becomes steeper. That last stretch, usually with my gearing already maxed out, just always manages to drain my morale. By comparison, the nearby Page Hill is a more significant climb. But I find it easier to handle, because the grade transitions it goes though somehow feel more logical.



Lat week I got a new computer and it has this feature that shows the grade percentage. This little toy has made me ridiculously excited and I am finally getting a sense for what different grades feel like. It also allows me to quantify my suffering. A climb starts to feel effortful at 6%, difficult at 10% and when I got the "Mommy can I go home now?" feeling I glanced down to see 14%. I was also surprised to learn that the "flat" Minuteman Trail reaches a 4% grade in a couple of the false flat stretches. Are you falling asleep yet at this fascinating information?



I am told that lots of cyclists start out hating hills, but then grow to enjoy them more and more. It could be that I am in that category... how else could I enjoy making a game of guessing the grade?

OYB Pannier: a Modified Swiss Army Bag for Your Bike

The OYB Pannier is a small Swiss army surplus bag, modified via the addition of rack attachments and other features byJeff Potter - the owner and author of the project Out Your Backdoor ("indie outdoor lore and more"). I purchased this bag asa smaller alternative to the enormous shopper pannier I normally use. My criteria were durability, classic aesthetics, a trustworthy attachment system, a reasonable price, and a size just large enough to snugly fit my medium format camera equipment or my (very small) laptop.While I am aware that these same bags (without the bike-ready modifications) can be purchased from several other sources, I opted for the OYB version because I wanted the modifications to be made by someone with experience and because I wanted to support the "Out Your Backdoor" project, which provides some great resources for its readers.



Compact and boxy, the pannier is a Swiss military bag made of a thick, stiff, olive-green waxed canvas with brown leather trim and steel rivets. The OYB leather patch is a lighter shade than the rest of the leather on the bag, but this can easily be changed with a modest application of neatsfoot oil or even Proofide.I am not sure whether this particular bag started out as new-old-stock, or whether it had been used in its previous life, but to me it looks more like the former. The condition is better than I had expected based on the pictures and product description on OYB.



The closure system is simple and secure: That very stiff leather cord pulls out of the metal loop, and the thick leather strap lifts up off the loop to open the bag. For those curious, the imprint on the leather reads "Fritz Gerber Sattlerei, Goldbach."



The attachment system is a combination of metal hooks and bungee cords, with which the pannier is secured to the rear rack.The rack I have on this bicycle is theConstructeurrack fromVelo Orange, which is quite small.

Here is a close-up of the metal hooks. They are riveted on to the bag.



And here is a close-up of the bungee attachment. Together, these two attachment points ensure that the pannier does not sway or bounce against the rack - a good feature when you are planning to carry camera equipment. When the bag is not being used as a pannier, the bungee hook attaches to that small leather strip you see on the back of the bag - so that it does not hang loose. [Edited to add: I am now told that the bungee cord is supposed to go through that leather loop before you hook it to the bottom of the rack - oops.]



In addition to the rack attachments, the OYB pannier can be ordered with a number of other optional features, including shoulder strap attachments with a removable shoulder strap. I asked for the strap, because I pan to carry the bag around when off the bike, and this set-up essentially this gives me a camera bag and pannier in one. Other options include lights mounts, and a variety of other attachments.



To give you a sense of scale, here is the pannier in relation to me and to the entire bike. It is a small bag. Dimensions are listed as:8.5" tall, 4" deep, 11.25" wide (5.4 liters). Inside, the length of the bag is listed at 10.75", but I was hoping against hope that it would fit my laptop. OYB gives instructions for stretching the bag out with magazines in order to make it fititems of that size, and I will give this a try.If I can get my laptop to fit, I will be thrilled - but I am not getting my hopes upand am prepared to content myself with this being a camera bag only.



If it were not for the laptop fit issue, this would pretty much be my dream pannier. The mil-spec colour scheme is not for everyone, but I love it, and it suits almost all of my bikes nicely. The durability of military surplus items is superb, and I appreciated getting the bag customised by Jeff atOYB. This is a classic, versatile, and reliable little pannier refashioned by someone who loves bicycles.



edited to add: I have sold the pannier since the review, only because it was too small for me. I loved everything else about it.

Hi-Ho Silver!

I admit that I cannot resist a silver bicycle - especially one that looks slightly "steampunked" with copper and leather accessories. I saw this one at DBC City Bikes in Somerville, Mass. last week:

This bicycle was built up using a custom Gerhard Marshall frame (originally made for Velorbis), with Sogreni, Brooks and Nitto components. I take it the frame is either chromed or stainless steel, but I cannot recall which. If anyone has any info on Gerhard Marshall frames, I would love to hear it; cannot seem to find anything about them.

Here is a view that shows off the fenders and handlebars better. The fenders are Sogreni, but were altered to fit the frame and tires.

Sogreni chainguard.

Copper and leather - mmmmmm...

Braided bar tape, inverse brake levers, brass bell.

All in all, this is one of the most striking bicycles I have ever seen in a bike shop. Though I understand it has a decidedly weird geometry, the build-up is incredible. Some inspirational food for thought for those considering silver frames!

Mind the Moderating Rules

I have a fairly hands-off moderating policy on this blog. At the same time, it is important to me that readers are comfortable participating in discussions without feeling intimidated by others. The policy so far has been to "approve all comments other than spam, unsubstantiated slander, inflammatory remarks, or blatant rudeness," and this will not change. However, I would like to elaborate on some of these terms.



Spam has become harder to deal with, as increasingly I find businesses using the comments inappropriately. Industry members are always welcome to participate in discussions. What is not welcome, is for a business to comment incognito in order to endorse themselves or criticise a competitor. I will remove those comments and will not deal with any company that uses such tactics.Comments promoting your business in response toa thematically unrelatedpost are likewise inappropriate.



Slander refers to posting malicious allegations against industry members and other individuals. (Example: "I heard Company X uses child labor to make their products." Another example:"Hey, I saw that guy beating his wifeafter the Podunk Brevet.") I cannothost random slander aimed at companies or persons; please take it elsewhere.



Rudeness seems like an obvious enough concept, but it can be a slippery slope. Criticism in itself is not rude. There are also comments meant to be humourous or tongue-in-cheek that can get misread by those who don't get the joke. I consider comments rude when they outright insult others or address them in a bullying tone.



Inflammatory comments are those designed to taunt a specific individual or to provoke a so-called "flame war." I do not always read comments thoroughly, and may not notice these until a full-blown hostile exchange is in progress. In cases like these, I may go back and remove the entire thread, no matter whose started it.



The way I see it, the less moderating I do the better. I hate being in a position of "allowing" versus "not allowing" stuff. Plus I simply have no time to carefully consider the wording of every comment. Long time readers get the benefit of the doubt more so than unknown ones.I use my judgment. Please use yours and mind the moderating rules.

On Beginners Helping Beginners and the Paradox of Expertise

[image via Thomas Hawk]

It's been over two years now since I began cycling as an adult and writing this blog, and I still think of myself as a novice: Two years isn't much. Looking at some of the other female-authored cycling blogs that appeared around the same time as mine,I see a similar pattern: The authors start the blog not to give advice, but to share their experiences as eager, clueless beginners. And over time they become more knowledgeable - helping their readers along the way just as much as their readers help them.



This approach tends to evoke polarised reactions. On the one hand, I've noticed that beginners - and particularly female readers who are just getting into cycling - respond to blogs written by other beginners more than they do to blogs written by experts. On the other hand, there is a great deal of scorn aimed at such blogs in some internet circles - mainly on male-dominated cycling forums. The other day I received a link to a venomous thread where the forum members basically take turns quoting snippets from my posts and mocking my writing. It might have upset me, if I hadn't witnessed a near-identical thread attacking another woman's blog on a different cycling forum several months earlier.The bashing we get from these guys is predictable: We are silly, we are consumerist, we know nothing about cycling yet presume to advise others, and our writing is annoying. Whether they have a point is not for me to judge, and it's useless to defend myself against grown men who get off on mocking other human beings. But I'd like to explore the question of why a beginner's writing about cycling can be more compelling to some audiences than that of an expert.



[image via acme59]

Beginners are enthusiastic.

When we are in the process of learning about something new that excites us, we tend to be more interested in that thing than once we already know everything there is to know about it. The eagerness to learn is what drives us to research and experiment, and then to share our discoveries with others. Once the learning is done, that eagerness subsides and we become less motivated to discuss the topic. We become jaded, we know it all. Why bother write about something that is old news to us? Enthusiasm is contagious, and so is jadedness. That is why a beginner's blog - that gushes about things that seem boring or even silly to experts - is more engaging for those who are trying to learn about the same topic.



[image via simplybike]

Beginners offer documentation.

Blogs written by novices are a bit like note-taking sessions made public. When was the last time you felt compelled to take notes on a process you already knew by heart? There is no motivation for it. Doing things like taking pictures of yourself on your bicycle and describing short rides in elaborate detail seems ridiculous to someone who has done it all thousands of times. But to those for whom cycling is a learning process, documentation is helpful. Novice readers seek out blogs that provide detailed documentation, and those blogs are usually written by other novices, precisely because experts wouldn't bother.



[image via mtwash125]

Beginners are more relatable to other beginners.

Today's post from Dottie on Let's Go Ride a Bike provides some great insight into this one. Dottie describes a commute to work that to her was "just perfect," yet to a novice cyclist was an absolute nightmare. It was a funny discrepancy, but also a telling one. After several years of cycling for transportation, we no longer even notice things like exhaust fumes, vehicles blocking the bike lane, car doors suddenly swinging open into our path, and cars cutting us off. Our methods of dealing with these problems become so automatised that we take them in stride: Overall, it is still a great commute, because nothing unusuallyhorrible has happened. But to beginners who are just mustering up the courage to cycle for transportation, other cyclists are no longer relatable once they reach that level of comfort. And this goes for everything - from transportation cycling, to roadcycling skills, to understanding frame geometry, to being able to work on our own bikes. Little by little, we begin to take stuff for granted and stop bothering to explain it, losing the readers who find our very ineptitude relatable. Paradoxically, while experts know more, they also come across as less approachable and they often write about things in a way that is difficult for non-experts to understand.



[image via Bart Omeu]

Beginners are unselfconscious.

As we gain knowledge in any given topic, there is often a degree of self-cosnciousness and competitiveness that sets in. We want to show that we are not "newbies" anymore and so we become more careful about what we write and how we present ourselves - lest the "cool people" make fun of us. But the nice thing about blogs that haven't reached that stage yet is their sincerity. They don't even know what the right vs the wrong thing to say is, so they express what they actually think.



Despite my two years of writingLovely Bicycle, I feel that I have somehow managed to remain in that state. I am so remarkably uncool as far as "cycling culture" goes, that I cannot even fathom the full extent of my uncoolness. That's one of the things that keeps me going and allows me to continue writing this blog, so as far as I'm concerned it's for the best.I enjoy novice cycling blogs of all types. And I hope that beginners continue to feel motivated to document their growing love of bicycles in their unique, authentic voices without worrying about coming across as silly. Beginners helping other beginners can be of greater value than expert knowledge.

Happy Holidays!

The Co-Habitant and I celebrate four holidays during the Festivus season! - and since one of them is already in progress, our cats urged us to send everybody some warm wishes. They even agreed to pose for these photos inside my Pashley basket.



To give you a sense of the size of the basket, our kitties are Norwegian Forest Cats, which are almost as large as Maine Coons. One is black and white, and the other is brown. They have asked that we not reveal their identities, and as you can see they are a bit camera shy.



And here is Eustacia Vye in her entirety, bedecked in a festive red bow. The holiday season has been good to us so far and we now own some better quality digital cameras - which will, hopefully, lead to nicer bike pictures on this weblog. Having read the holiday wishlists posted on some of the bicycle blogs out there, I realise that I am actually pretty satiated in the velo department and have no bicycle themed items on my list. It is good to be happy with what you have... Either that, or I better get my thinking cap on!

Traveling by Bike

As you may have noticed, we are staying on the coast for a little while - our annual working vacation. This is something we've been doing at the end of every summer for the past six years. When we lived further North, we used to go to a place in Maine, and after moving to Boston we began staying on Cape Cod. I've been writing about that for the past two summers, and it's funny how over time our trips became increasingly bicycle-oriented. Two years agowe went by car as usual, but for the first time took bikes and cycled around a bit during our stay. Last summer we arrived by car again, but got around entirely by bicycle once there and attempted some high mileage day-trips. This summer we no longer have a car and really did not want to rent one just for the trip. So after discovering that Cape Ann was accessible by commuter rail, we decided to come here instead and do the whole trip on bikes. Another reason for choosing Cape Ann, is that it is a popular starting point for long rides up the coast of Northern New England. There are no decent routes north directly out of Boston, and what cyclists often do is take the commuter rail up here before proceeding north. So that was the plan: To arrive on our bicycles, to get around by bike, and to cycle up the coast as far and as often as possible in the course of our stay.



Our main challenge was figuring out how to transport our belongings. This is not a bicycle-specific trip, so we needed more than a change of cycling clothing and rain gear. We are living here for two weeks and doing all the same things we do at home - including work-related stuff. We needed our regular clothing and footwear, personal hygiene products, bedding, towels, laptops, a variety of electronic devises, some necessary books and documents, and our camera equipment - in addition to the cycling clothing, tool kits and raingear. And all of that we fit into the luggage you see here.



For a number of logistical reasons, we decided the most practical course of action would be to turn one person into the pack mule - and since I already had a front rack and a large handlebar bag on my bike, it made sense that this would be me. I had planned to eventually get a touring-specific rear rack for my Rivendell anyway, and so that is what I did. Between the two of us, we packed a total of five bags for the trip - four on my bike and one on the Co-Habitant's.



The rear rack on my bike is a Nitto Campee with removable lowrider panels, to which we attached a set of Carradice panniers, while using the rack's platform to support a Sackville SaddleSack. These bags plus the Carradicesaddlebag on the Co-Habitant's Surly contained our clothing, bedding and laptops. My Ostrich handlebar bag contained camera equipment, electronics and various other miscellaneous items. Everything was packed very tightly, and I estimate that my bicycle weighed around 100 lb when all was said and done.



The ride to the train station from our house is 4 miles through some of the busiest parts of the city. I have never ridden with my bike loaded up like this before, and the prospect of trying it for the first time in Boston traffic was nerve-wrecking. Overall, the bicycle handled fine. Once it got going, I could not feel the weight at all, and the heavy handlebar bag did not affect steering. But at very slow speeds - especially when starting and stopping - there was a fishtailing effect in the rear that took some getting used to. Also, with so much weight on the bike, the brakes were less effective than usual, which I had to keep in mind when stopping on a downhill. The frame itself had an interesting feel to it - as if it was "yielding" to the weight (mildly flexing?). The resulting ride quality was in some ways nicer than with the bicycle unloaded. Having survived this ride in traffic, loaded touring on the open road does not seem in the least daunting. Going slower than usual is, of course, a given - but the reduction in speed was not as drastic as I thought it might be. Even cycling uphill (which I got to experience once we arrived to Cape Ann and rode from the train station to the place we are staying!) was not as difficult as I expected. Thanks to a helpful reader after my description of our previous commuter rail experience, we were able to board the elusive bike train, which made the trip more pleasant still.

Once we arrived and settled in, we removed the lowrider panels from the rear rack, transforming my bike from a full-on pack-mule into a lighter ridethat could still carry food and equipment when necessary. I will write more about this particular rear rack in a separate post; it is pretty neat and versatile.



The place where we are staying is somewhere between a cabin and a shack on the architectural spectrum and is the size of a small garage. It is situated on a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean, and there is a beach down the road. Despite the stormy weather, we love being here - just the two of us and our bikes. Yesterday the sun finally came out and we did a 50 mile "warm-up" ride, hoping for more soon. And it feels great that we were able to drag all of our stuff up here without needing a car. It was important to us that this did not feel like a compromise compared to the previous times we've gone away, and it most definitely does not. We were able to fit everything we need into our bicycle bags, and not having to deal with a car here feels extremely relaxing. I highly recommend giving traveling by bicycle a try!