Cal Poly Nights

Cal Poly Nights, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Night settles in over San Luis Obispo, California.

Spirit Tree Twilight

There is a magical period of time each day that lasts for maybe 15 minutes during which you can capture the last bit of blue in the sky along with a sky full of stars. On the evening of May 6, I was fortunate to have ideal conditions for capturing this special moment in time. The sky was not yet completely dark (meaning I could still capture plenty of blue in the sky), yet it was dark enough that plenty of stars were visible. This image was made using my Canon EF 17-40mm lens, exposure length was 25 seconds, aperture f4, ISO 1600.

Indoor Bike Activities

Now that it's getting colder out, it's time for some indoor bike activities.

Like wrapping and shellacking handlebars. These are the new Nitto Noodle bars on the Co-Habitant's roadbike. We have wrapped and shellacked bars so often at this point, that it's become second nature. He is the wrapper. I am the shellacker. It is satisfying to smear the amber shellac onto that pristine white tape and watch it transform into a warm caramel colour. Makes me think of candy apples.

And in case you are wondering, yes those are reindeer pajama bottoms. Très chic, non?

Central Texas News Roundup - Few Photos, Lots of Links

[Image from the Lower Colorado River Authority website showing the system of dams which made the Colorado River into a series of reservoirs called the Highland Lakes]

LOCAL NEWS[We're fine in my neighborhood - the flooding happened Northwest of here]
Maybe you've seen some of the stories or photos already? Over seventeen inches of rain fell within a few hours on Marble Falls, NW of Austin, with flood waters engulfing other Central Texas towns like Smithwick and Kingsland. Area map, with Austin in the lower right corner.
The flood-tumbled, mangled remains of a vehicle was found today, but the teenagers who were in it are still missing. Residents of that area have lost houses, property, cars and trucks, and one organic chicken farm has lost all their hens. People were rescued from rooftops and the municipal water system isn't working. The parts that need fixing are still under water, so the townfolk are doing the best they can with bottled water.
Mystery writer Susan Albert lives not too far away... she's okay and her house is on high ground, but she had a few adventures with livestock as the storm hit.
Fellow Austin Blogger Mrs Quad has some scary photos of what the water's done.

EXTREMELY LOCAL NEWS
In this little corner of Austin the only drama was recorded in this not-too-clear photo of a 3-inch slug, an unusual shape here. We get lots of those little roundish slugs that look like a kindergardener couldn't find a tissue and used a leaf instead. This particular speciment was heading toward a clematis but did not arrive at that destination. Some of the garden plants have been thrilled with a year's worth of water in just a few months, while others resent it. The peppers, sunflower and Tropical Milkweed/Asclepias curassavica are growing, but could use some sun. The tomatoes look terrible, and most of what fruit remains is fit only for a compost heap.

The City of Portland Cannas, on the other hand, surrounded below by Salvia guaranitica, are looking fine, without the usual crispy edges seen in drier years.


I've been growing the lime green and purple potato vines for a decade, valuing their cascading foliage in hanging baskets. In all that time none ever bloomed - but this purple one produced flowers! Is it a result of our eighties instead of nineties with everyday rain?

Here's the Clematis viticella, rescued from the awesome slug, making another flurry of buds and blooms. The pale blue flowers at its base are a Plumbago, a plant that throws lanky branches up to 4-feet high by mid-fall, and sometimes makes it through a NW Austin winter. This spring it was killed to a couple of inches in height, so it wasn't blooming when the clematis was scanned in April.

The big weedy looking leaves at the lower right belong to a big weedy Brugmansia AKA Angel's trumpet. It's supposed to be yellow and fragrant. It's never bloomed, in spite of water, fertilizer, great soil and what should be a perfect location with morning sun and protection from the hot afternoon sun.

The paint on the green loveseat from the previous post was fresh when the rain began so we put it in the shed to let it cure. Any guesses on when the new garden furniture gets into the garden? Storms are in the forecast through the 4th and the weather radio goes off a few times each day, warning us of flash flood danger.


ALAMO DRAFTHOUSE
One of the quirky Austin places we've loved is the downtown location of the Alamo Drafthouse, the original nucleus of the burgeoining Alamo Drafthouse group. Food and drink accompanied a movie- the movie could be something new and weird or old and cult-oriented, or even a silent movie. We've watched Buster Keaton in The General and Louise Brooks in Pandora's Box up the screen, while musicians Guy Forsyth and Graham Reynolds played music specially composed for the movie. We've been there quite often when the Austin Film Society screened Essential Cinema. On the Tuesday night just passed we went to the Alamo Downtown, watched a truly extraordinary British Science fiction movie from 1961, The Day The Earth Caught Fire, and drank a last toast to this particular Alamo. Wednesday night was the big final party before the Alamo moves to a new location on 6th Street. This wonderful place will be no longer be quite the same, but the concept and the proprietors will still be here, and the memories have been blogged for posterity.

OBX From My Window

It's been a bit since I took pictures while we are driving somewhere, so I decided to do it yesterday while we drove up to Nags Head. I am so in love with the scenery here. When Austin was here with us, he wasn't impressed in the least with it. BORING is what he said. I can see why it would seem kind of monotonous to some. I never tire of it though.

I normally hate driving with the windows down. I didn't even like riding with the top down when Nathan had a convertible. Here, I want to not only roll the windows down, I want to hang my head out the window like a carefree dog.

It's just soothing to me for some reason.

There was quite a bit of smoke up that way, and it really triggered my allergies. Still, it was worth it. Once we arrived in Nags Head, we did a bit of shopping and scored some greatly needed beach shoes and new shirts for a great price. As we were leaving the store, we ran into Jack and Ruth, a couple that I work with. We ended up eating dinner with them at the Mexican restaurant Azteca and it was very good. It was a nice bonus to have good company too.



Ok, back to the scenery. It's postcard perfect, isn't it?

First Cokinos Residence

Still having problems with my camera, but here is the house where George Cokinos was born--then and now at 919 11th NE- right around the corner from the where the candy shop was on H Street.
(We're still looking for the historical plaque.)
On the right: Pota, Peter and their children, Catherine and George probably sometime in 1918. Below is the house today.

Expanding Comfort Zones

Over the past couple of weeks I've had things to do in downtown Boston and the Financial District, so I have been going there more than usual. As I cycle through this dense urban area, my company includes mainly bumper-to-bumper car traffic and bike messengers weaving through it. It was a hot afternoon and I was waiting in the left lane at a red light - a black SUV behind me and a gray pick-up truck on my right - when it suddenly occurred to me: I was quite comfortable. Any moment now, the light would turn green and I would make a left turn in a way that would not conflict with oncoming vehicles. The awareness of this was not one of nervous anticipation, but one of calm preparedness. Perhaps I am no longer quite the "beginner" I still tend to think of myself as being.

I say all of this not to brag (and I am sure many would mock the idea of cycling in downtown Boston as any sort of accomplishment), but to point out that the "baby steps" principle really does work if you are patient and allow yourself to expand your comfort zone at your own pace. Last summer, I wrote this post about overcoming my anxieties and cycling outside my immediate neighborhood. Now those anxieties seem in the distant past, as I cycle all over greater Boston and beyond.

Of course the city's ever-expanding bicycle infrastructure helps as well. Not so much because the bike lanes are spectacular (note the amount of debris on the left and how close the car gets on the right), but because the sheer act of painting all sorts of bicycle signifiers seems to make drivers more aware of cyclists' existence in general. Overall, conditions for cyclists are improving here.

If I wanted to cross the river to Boston last year, I would cycle along the Charles River Trail at a snail's pace. Now I just go right on the roads and cross the main city bridges. It takes 15-20 minutes to get where I need to be, and I no longer feel anxious to cycle in this manner. I make no secret of the fact that I am a neurotic wimp with a poor sense of balance. So, at the risk of perpetuating a cliché: "If I can do it, anybody can." Choose a bicycle you love, take it one neighborhood at a time, and expand your comfort zone.

Just be sure to make way for ducklings...

And don't tease the swans!

'Twas the Summer of '59

The first and last time that I attended summer camp was in June 1959. I was eleven years old and it was also the first time that I had been away from home for any length of time. The camp was affiliated with the Girl Scouts. Two of my friends, classmates and troop mates, Susan and Joanne, were there too, so it wasn't like I didn't know anyone. It sounds like I had lots of fun. Too bad I don't really remember specific events, though I do remember attending. Hopefully, my spelling and grammar have improved somewhat over the years...



Dear Mom,

I am fine, How are you, Jack, Doug, and Terry. Do you know that you have to pay 15¢ a car, 15¢ for parents, 15¢ for children under 12 years of age.

My consulers are Micky, & Watona. I am having a good time, I'm just a little home sick, not very much.

Do you know what a hopper is it is a person or more that helps set tables and get food on the tables. a hopper doesn't have to do his own dishes but she has to do the tables dishes.

I have written a letter to grandma to.

sincerely yours
Beckie W.



Dear Mom,

I told you about a hopper. I'm a hopper Sat. Lunch.

Can you guess who my cabin mates are? They are Susan Howell and Joann, Suzanne, Pamella, and Diane.

Monday night we had a lot of trouble Susan was crying for her dog, and Dianne triped and hurt her eye, and we made a clothsline and I forgot where we put it and ran thurgh it and got a rope burn, Suzanne was home sick.

I got your letter and was a little home sick. I am going to save $1.00, 5¢ a day for the Mermaid-Festival. Don't tell anybody else.

I lost grandmas address will you send me the address.

Sunday we had hotdogs, potatoe chips, milk, water, Bread & butter.

I am having loads of fun I will write to you & the family almost every day.



There is one letter that Mom sent me. I'm sure she wrote more but this is the only one that got kept...



June 15, 1959

Dear Becky -

Well how is the weather. It's raining here and I've got the furnace turned on - this is always the kind of weather you get when you go to camp. What time did you get to Pottawatamie. I'll bet you were hungry when supper time came - What did you have that was good to eat. Who have you got for a cabin mate. Even if it is raining I'll bet you have fun - We are watching T. V. It's the first its been on in the morning for 2 weeks. I've got some more strawberries that have to be picked. I was over at Pat's yesterday and we are going to have to start picking peas.

Ruth and Gene Stutzman are on vacation this week too - I hope you can read this - I'm trying to get done before the mail man gets here - Terry was looking for you last night & wanted to know when we were going to get you - Bill & Sue were here yesterday and Doug started yelling for you to come & play - He stopped as soon as he got "Bec" out.

= = =

There was one more page in her letter that listed the addresses of people that I was supposed to write to. She signed the letter "Mommy".

Pat is Mom's sister. Pat and her family lived on a farm and always planted a large garden. Bill and Sue are Mom's brother and his wife. Jack, Doug, and Terry were my brothers and sister. It's nice to know that my siblings missed me ;-)

I'm pretty sure that Camp Pottawatamie was located on or near the Tippecanoe River, which was the same river that flowed through the fields less than a mile from our house. I also think the camp is now part of the Tippecanoe River State Park. The town of Winamac is located on State Road 14, in Pulaski County, about a two hour drive from where we lived at the time. Not that far, but I'm sure it seemed further.

This post was written for and contributed to the 76th edition of the Carnival of Genealogy :: How I spent my summer vacation…

Through the Valley of Fire

Wednesday, November 30th - - The road led me south from Zion National Park. My destination for the night was the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada about 50 miles northeast of Las Vegas.



I arrived about an hour before sunset and the sun was casting a warming glow over the landscape. The park's website (link above) tells us that “The Valley of Fire derives its name from red sandstone formations, formed from great shifting sand dunes during the age of dinosaurs, 150 million years ago. Complex uplifting and faulting of the region, followed by extensive erosion, have created the present landscape.”





As you drive around the park, numerous formations jut out above the desert floor.



The formations were piles of swirling rock. It was like Mother Nature had dipped her hand into a bowl of whipped cream and mixed it up to form these incredible rocks.







Wind and rain have added their “artistic touch” to the formations to produce a dazzling display.



Thursday, December 1st - - High winds and rain came through the valley last night. The van was buffeted around quite a bit and if there had been room in the campsite I would have turned the van so that it was facing into the wind. It wouldn't have been quite so bad then. But, from what I've heard, the winds through the Valley of Fire were not nearly as bad as those in California. I've been through a few other bad storms and this compares to some of the worst. I was glad to see the sun come out in the morning, but that didn't last long either.



Rather than stay and be miserable in the wind, rain, and cold air I continued on my drive south.

Achielle Oma: Handmade in Belgium

When I learned about Achielle Bicycles from a Belgian friend three years ago, I immediately wanted one - so much so that I contacted the manufacturer and considered buying one direct when I learned there was no American distributor. However shipping a single bike was expensive, and so Achielle did not end up being my first transportaion bicycle. But I remained interested in the manufacturer. Eventually they gained US distribution, but still I never heard of any bike shop that sold them. It was therefore entirely unexpected when I literally bumped into a wine-coloured Achielle Oma at Hudson Urban Bicycles in New York last week. I did not know they sold them, but there it was - the elusive bicycle I'd been admiring from afar all this time, just standing there and waiting for me to try it.




There was also a grayish-cream one in stock, being prepared for theNew Amsterdam Fashion Show.





The owner of HUB had no idea who I was, but knew I had no intention of buying the bike and just wanted to write about it on some blog.The shop was hectic, with everyone running around getting ready for the New Amsterdam Show, and it was almost closing time. Still, he got the bicycle ready for me and was very helpful - much appreciated. Many thanks also to Nona Varnado, who introduced me to HUB and vouched that I was not a bicycle thief. I test rode the Achielle and just barely managed to snap some pictures before the light faded.






So what makes Achielle bicycles such a big deal? Well, it is this: As far as I know they are the only production Dutch bikes that are still handmade locally from the frame up. Even the tubing is produced locally, according to the manufacturer. Does local production mean a bike is better made than had it been outsourced to the Far East? Not necessarily. Quality depends on skill, method and tools, not on a factory's location. But there is something to be said for bicycles that are produced 100% in-house, from frame to paint to assembly. Pashley does it in the UK with English Roadsters and Achielle does it on the continent with Dutch bikes. They are part of the special remaining few and they keep local manufacturing traditions alive.




Achielle has been making bicycles in the Flemish region of Belgium since 1946 and you can read a summary of their history here. The paint is by Dija-Oostcolor - Achielle's parent company. Because pretty much every aspect of production and assembly takes place in-house, a great deal of customisation is possible. But plenty of stock production models are available as well.





The model I rode is the Craighton Pick-Up Oma -a steel loop frame with 28" wheels, body colour fenders, chainguard and large front carrier. This bike was a 57cm frame, 3-speed with coaster brake only, fitted with cream tires, bottle dynamo lighting, double-legged kickstand, leather saddle and grips, and large wicker basket in front.






The Achielle Oma frame has all the features I value when it comes to craftsmanship. It is fully lugged, including the seat cluster, fork crown and even the loop connector. It also has the bolted rear triangle and the track ends in the rear that I prefer on a bike of this style. The frame is utilitarian and the lugwork is simple, there are no flourishes. But everything that I like to be there is there, and the quality of the finish looked excellent, with precise joints and no sloppiness or bulges anywhere along the frame.






On a bicycle like this, I actually prefer to have a modern bottle dynamo to a hub generator, and Achielle has the option of a braze-on "arm" on the fork for this purpose. Both the bottle and the headlight attach there, making it possible to use a front carrier system without obscuring the headlight.






The classically high and swept back Dutch handlebars are near-identical to the set-up on my formerly owned 90s Gazelle.





Although this particular model has a one-sided chainguard and not a full chaincase, models with full chaincases are available also. A tail light is mysteriously absent here, but it is pictured on the Achielle website.




I rode the Oma briefly along the quiet streets of the West Village. It was exceptionally smooth and, by Dutch bike standards, fast. I did not feel that the weight of the front carrier and basket (with my jacket and camera inside) affected handling. However, the lack of front brake was a problem for me and kept me from testing the bike's speed limits to the extent I would have liked. For those considering the bike, a front caliper can be easily retro-fitted and there are options for a hub brake as well, but obviously this could not be done in the short amount of time I spent with the bike. I would love to do a long-term review of this bicycle with better pictures and more nuanced observations.






The Achielle Oma is a classic Dutch bike in every respect, including weight savings not being a priority. It was funny to watch the model who posed with the bicycle at the New Amsterdam Bike Fashion Show "hand" the Achielle to the assistant whose job was to carry it off stage. This big-boned beauty can weigh upward of 45lb, depending on size and what accessories it is fitted with.Like all Dutch bikes, the Achielle Oma was designed to be stored outdoors or in sheds, not carried. And it is certainly durable enough for outdoor storage, as well as suitable as a winter bike.






Priced at $1,450 for the model shown, the Achielle is not inexpensive. But it is handmade in Belgium from scratch, it looks well-constructed and it handles well. The price simply reflects how much it costs to do that, with only modest profits being made by the manufacturer, distributor and retailer. For me, it is worth it. For others, maybe not. It is good to have options. Were I in the market for a Dutch bike today, Achielle would be the one.

Bike Fit, How Does It Work?

Preparing my roadbike for the first skinny tire ride of Spring, I realised it's now been over a year since I've had it. And, looking at the somewhat unsightly spacer poking out above the stem I realised something else: My road position hasn't changed over that time. That bit of steerer was left uncut in case the handlebars turned out to be too low for comfort, which did not happen. The spacer below the stem has remained in place as well. Considering that prior to a year ago my position was in constant flux, it's nice to finally feel settled in.



Alas, this has not given me any great insights into the topic of bike fit.I have seen huge variations in the positions of people I ride with, each of them apparently suiting the rider just fine.I have also been exposed to a number of fit philosophies - each yielding a different conclusion about the size and setup of the bike I ought to be riding.Seasoned cyclists often advise new riders to "have an expert fitting." But depending on which philosophy the fitter subscribes to, results will vary.



Since my bike is a Seven and Seven Cycles are known for their fit methodology, I am occasionally asked to describe the fit process I went through. While I don't think my experience was typical, this seems like a good occasion to share it, so here goes:



When I first tried a Seven demo bike two summers ago, they set it up to match the position of my own bicycle. At the time, I was riding a bike with a long top tube, short stem, handlebars slightly above saddle height, and saddle pushed back to slacken an already relaxed seat tube even further. Setting up the demo bike to match mine was contrary to what I had expected going into the test ride. But Seven's Rob Vandermark suggested I start from a point of familiarity. Set up in this manner, the Seven felt good, and with the fit already familiar I could focus on its ride quality and speed. But this was a long term demo, and when I began taking part in fast group rides that summer I found myself squirming around: bending my elbows dramatically and scooting forward in the saddle. When I communicated this to Rob, he suggested some small changes, including moving the saddle forward and lowering the bars. When this adjustment was made, it felt like a step in the right direction. Eventually I was riding the bike with a straight seatpost and the handlebars placed as low as the frame would allow. It still wasn't quite right, as the frame was simply too large. But it felt better than my previous position.



Later that Fall, I built up a small vintage racing frame with modern components, based on the ideas of fit I picked up from the summer's experience. This bike had a short top tube and long stem, and handlebars just below saddle height. Though I sensedit could still use some tweaking, overallI wasnowvery pleased with my position. When I decided to buy a Seven for the coming spring, I came in with this bike and was measured again, as well as observed and asked questions while I rode on a trainer. The kind of things that were examined and discussed were: my cadence, where I keep my hands on the bars, how much time I spend out of the saddle, my back and shoulder position, the position of my feet on the pedals,and lots of other little things that I no doubt missed. Moreover, this was also the time I became involved with the Ride Studio Cafe cycling club (a Seven Cycles dealer) - taking part in their group rides and loitering in the shop. So my formal fit experience was no doubt supplemented by their getting to know me and my riding style.There is talk of a famous 50 page questionnaire that Seven customers fill out, but I have never seen such a document; I assume it was filled out on my behalf during and after the fitting session. I did sign off on a build form in the end, and hoped for the best.



When I got the new bike, it fit differently than anything I had ridden previously, but I was left with no doubt it was the "right" fit for me. There was a sense of everything falling into place. My hands knew where the hoods were and plopped right down; my legs felt integrated with the cranks and pedals. I didn't question any aspect of the positioning. Any other roadbike I've ridden since, I try to adjust to the same specs. Depending on a bike's size and geometry, it doesn't always work - but the closer I can get it, the better it feels to ride.



And by better, I don't mean abstract notions of "position X will make me faster/ more comfortable than position Y." Neither do I have a template in mind of what constitutes proper road fit or of what looks correct. Rather, I mean physically better - proven through personal experience to feel both more comfortable, more efficient and less fatiguing. I notice, for instance, that contrary to one popular narrative, my back hurtslesswith the handlebars set a bit lower. And contrary to another, my legs feel better with the saddle at a steeper, rather than a slacker angle over the bottom bracket. I don't presume that the same holds true for every rider and for every style of riding, but I can't ignore evidence of what works for me.No doubt in the future, my position on the bike will continue to evolve. At what point and in which direction I don't know yet. But for now it might be safe to cut down the extra bit of steerer - affectionately referred to as the "sternum puncher" by some of my riding friends.



Funny thing: I know about half a dozen female roadcyclists who are almost identical to me in size and who all do similar types of riding. When we try each other's bikes, hilarity ensues: The fit is all wrong. Yet we each find our own positions comfortable. And all of us have had expert fittings.



As these things go, I sometimes get bike fit advice from strangers when I am out and about. It is split pretty much evenly between (a)"Your setup is way too aggressive," (b)"Your setup is not aggressive enough," and (c)"That bike is set up just right!" I have a feeling that no matter what my bike looked like, this distribution would remain about the same.

Morning Sunrays