South Dakota Spirit Tree

I haven't been doing much shooting lately (too many other things going on), so I've been digging through my archives looking for photos that I've always wanted to put on my website but (until now) didn't have the time to do. This one is from my 6-week trip through the west that I did back in . My friend Roger Nordstrom (http://www.rogernordstromphoto.com/) and I spent several days in the Badlands and Black Hills of South Dakota photographing the night sky, among other things. As we drove around during the day we were constantly on the lookout for trees to photograph against the night sky. This particular tree was one that we both greatly enjoyed photographing. Roger was "painting light" onto the tree using the lowest setting on his headlamp while I recorded this image. It is a 30 second exposure taken at an ISO of 1600 using a Canon EOS 5D Mark II camera and Canon EF 17-40mm lens.

Firefly Bicycles: a True Story

In its two years of existence, Firefly has built over 200 bicycle frames in titanium, stainless steel and titanium-carbon - nearly every one of them documented from start to finish and shared over the internet with what seems like hoards of enthusiastic followers. This rate of productivity is particularly remarkable considering that Firefly is just 3 people: two framebuilders and a tester/designer, all of whom perform double duty as PR specialists and photographers.When I visited Firefly last week, they had just held an open house at their impressive new space in Dorchester. The recent upgrade from their prior digs will allow for even greater efficiency - helping the young company meet increasing demand and tackle their now 8-months long wait list.





To those unfamiliar with Firefly’s history, it may seem implausible that a brand-new maker of custom bicycles can hit the ground running with this degree of success. But the story makes more sense given their background. When Boston legend Independent Fabrication announced an impeding move to New Hampshire at the end of , most of their employees remained behind. Among them were friends Jamie Medeiros, Tyler Evans andKevin Wolfson, who decided to start their own venture. They developed a detailed business plan, Jamie and Tyler founded the company and hired Kevin, and on January 10, (at precisely 2:10pm, they tell me) Firefly was born. While the company itself was new, the skills and experience of those involved were considerable. At IF, Tyler had worked as a welder for over 13 years, Jamie for 14 years in R&D, and Kevin as a designer for 3 years. When Firefly announced they were open for business, orders began coming in straight away.





I first saw a Firefly bike at D2R2 last summer: two of them in fact. I remember it was an overcast morning, and when they rode past me I did a double take. While the bicycles themselves were quite minimalist, they were also unmissable: In the milky fog, their distinct graphics lit up in shades of green and violet much like ...well, fireflies. I noticed this again at the New England Builder's Ball last October: walking past Firefly's booth, their graphics flickered fetchingly in the dim light of the oddly cavernous showroom.





This "firefly" glow is in fact achieved fairly easily, through masked anodising. On titanium frames, different colours can be produced through anodising by controlling the voltage. The visual effect is surprisingly beautiful.





The unpainted titanium with anodised graphics quickly became Firefly's signature look, though other finishes and materials are available.







Most recently, the other materials on offer include bonded Ti-carbon: frames with titanium sleeves and carbon fiber tubing. As Firefly puts it, this is "technology usually reserved for the companies with million dollar R&D budgets, used by a company of three."






As the guys strung up the bike for me to get a better look, my eye kept going back and forth over the top tube. Something looked odd. I soon realised it was the expanding diamater. The top tube starts out skinny at the seat cluster, then expands until it's fat at the headtube joint, with the titanium sleeves shaped accordingly.






Less noticeable, the same thing happens with the seat tube, which starts out fat at the bottom bracket, gradually tapering until it's skinny at the seat cluster.





Between the tapering tubes and the carbon-titanium interaction, the bike, when examined closely, looks like a puzzle box, or anM.C. Escher drawing come to life.






The Firefly logo is carved into every titanium sleeve, like a bit of lacy edging.






And fans of colourful anodising have not been forgotten.





Being around Jamie and Tyler is a bit like looking at the mixed-materials frame. Somehow they click, despite seeming so very different. Jamie Medeiros has an old-fashioned European face that would not be out of place in a Renaissance painting. A big guy with fluffy hair, he moves around softly, almost stealthily. He often seems lost in thought or amused by something. He smiles to himself as he works.





Tyler Evans has a sharp and direct gaze. His movements are precise and quick. No question I ask seems to surprise him or give him pause; he is articulate and focused.






Watching them together - interacting by the machines, or drinking coffee in the kitchen - there is a synergy that is as effective as it is endearing. They sometimes give the impression of speaking in unison, or finishing each other's sentences. When working in close proximity, their movements appear synchronised.






This could go some way toward explaining Firefly's productivity. The shop space is organised with a separate station, machine, and tool for every task, arranged in the sequence in which the work gets done. Jamie cuts, prepares and notches tubes. Tyler welds. The smart layout and the rapport between the pair ensure that the works gets done in an efficient sequence, with as little time and energy wasted as possible.






Kevin is not in on the day that of my visit (he is baking bread, they explain - a culinary course), but I've met him before at local events and know that he completes the synergy. He is missed and mentioned often, as Jamie and Tyler discuss the shop and the business. Kevin is the racer, and every prototype bike gets tested by him in action.






In Firefly's range of offerings there are no model names, only descriptions of bikes and frame materials. They can build road, cyclocross and mountain bikes, or anything in between, or something different entirely. Recently they made aclassic randonneurring bikewith 6550B wheels and front rack. They have made upright city bikes. When I playfully ask about step-through frames they assure me that they would welcome such an order.






Hanging up in the "to do" corner, I spot the fabled monster cross frame that belongs to a local customer.






It is in for seat stay modification, to allow for a 650B conversion (built for 26" wheels originally).






Firefly's beautiful dropouts are machined locally by Cantabrigian Mechanics.






A few other bikes lurk in the shop on the day of my visit. Tyler and Jamie's personal bikes are there, as well as a new road build for review in Australian Ride Magazine.Several frames sit in fixtures in states of near-completion. A well-ridden mountain bike, its frame anodised in brown, hangs by the door. None of the bikes are my size, which is just as well, since absorbing the new shop is more than enough for my senses this time around.






It's hard to describe Firefly's shop space without appearing to be gushing. The place is - quite deliberately - a showpiece of interior design. Upon moving into the new building, Firefly gutted everything and started from scratch, hiring designer Alessandra Mondolfi- who also happens to be Tyler's wife - to create an interior to suit the company's needs and business model.






Firefly's space was designed to serve three distinct functions: as a workshop conducive to efficient fabrication, as a showroom for customers, and as a promotional space for both process and product.






The open concept layout is arranged as a series of rooms separated with sliding doors. At the very back is the roomy shop space, laid out much like a factory floor. Leading up to it are an office space, an inhouse photo studio,






a fit studio,






a kitchen and meeting room,






And a dramatic entryway that also functions as a rotating art gallery (currently showing work from Heather McGrath).






Strategically placed sliding doors and windows can make every section as public or private as necessary.





But aside from how the space is organised functionally, there is also a branding aspect to the design. It is difficult to point a camera within the shop without getting at least a part of the Firefly logo in the shot. Virtually everything - from the welding setup, to the fit studio, to the kitchen - has been arranged with documentation and media visits in mind.





The lighting is photogenic and atmospheric. The shop doubles as a stage.







The colour orange is carried through into all aspects of the space, from bar stools






to machienery,






to plant life.






There are unexpected installations. The moss bed not only smells wonderful, but is a great stress reliever - petting it feels wonderfully relaxing.






A modest DJ setup for parties.






Bits of stained glass to enhance the light streaming through the small windows. I'll refrain from posting pictures of the bathroom, but the theme continues there as well.






In an era when creating a strong brand presence and culture around your work is crucial, Firefly's purposeful approach makes for a fascinating case study. It is unlikely that their success is a matter of mere luck.






They work on building bicycle frames around the clock, sharing the results with the world as they go along through activity onsocial media and bicycle forums, building a loyal and ever-expanding following.






From the get-go, this was a part of their business plan, and they have followed through as intended.






Can the market for custom bicycle frames in titanium, stainless steel and carbon fiber sustain Firefly's practice? Impossible to know what the future will bring, but at the moment it appears the answer is yes.




The Firefly showroom in Boston is open weekdays 9-5 (no appointment needed). And, of course, you can also follow along online. Many thanks to Firefly for the tour and the chat. More pictures of the visithere.

Purse or Pocket?

For as long as I can remember, I have loathed those things that are known as purses: small handbags designed to house not books, laptops or groceries, but tiny personal belongings such as a wallet, phone and keys. Traditionally women have carried purses, because their clothing is not designed with pockets to accommodate these miscellaneous items. Even when pockets exist, their design is not actually useful for storing things without distorting the fit of the garment or even interfering with movement. And so historically, women have carried tiny handbags, seldom experiencing the freedom of walking around empty-handed, the peace of mind of not constantly having to look after one's belongings, and the fun of spontaneous mobility (try running down the street with a purse).



In the twentieth century, some women have taken this up as a feminist issue, refusing to carry a purse out of principle and only buying clothing with well-designed pockets. But for the most part, the purse trend persists, with fashion designers making a fortune on this accessory every season.





For me it's not really a political thing, but I do get frustrated carrying a purse. Over the years I've made an art of finding clothing with proper pockets, or else adding my own pockets to garments. Even for 90°F summer heat, I own skirts and sundresses with cleverly placed pockets for my wallet, keys and phone.



Looking at a friend's vast collection of diminutive handbags one day, I asked why she preferred this method of carrying her things. She replied that this way everything is always in one place, and she need not move it from jacket to jacket as I do. That makes sense - except that she switches from one purse to another on a semi-daily basis, so she still ultimately has to move everything over. But explanations are about subjective perceptions of reality, and this was how she saw it. When I talk of purses being a burden, those who like them probably think it's mostly in my head as well.



I've been thinking about the purse vs pocket issue more since I started cycling. When riding a bike - particularly if that bike is not bolt upright - pocket design presents a special challenge, as contents can spill out more easily than when walking. Clothing that is marketed as cycling-specific, even for commuting, usually features lots of complicated pockets that try to get around this. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. Personally, I find the rear pocket design of the cycling jersey to be an extremely efficient way to carry small items on the bike, and I've wondered what elegant method can be devised to translate this into streetwear and maybe even business-casual attire. Begrudgingly I've ridden my bike with a purse in the basket or strapped to the rear rack now and again, but I always wish for pockets.



I am wondering what my female readers prefer. And does it depend on whether you are on or off the bike?

Two days in Vantage ..

Ian and I had planned to go to Squamish for a bunch of days. However, the forecast was not favorable for any of the "local" climbing areas. By Monday, Ian wasn't feeling well, and we decided to make it a two day trip to the Frenchman's Coulee area. Since I don't seem to enjoy climbing there, this didn't make me feel great about the trip before going, but I kept my hopes up that we'd have a good time.

When we arrived, the skies were gray, with a light wind. We headed to Sunshine Wall so I could help Ian finish his project of climbing all the sport climbs at Sunshine (and the Feathers.) Once there, I believe we "warmed up" on Throbbing Gristle(5.9). Ian led it and I followed. It was technically easy for a 5.9, but strenuous. I fell and hung at one point. I cleaned the anchor, and we moved on to the next objective: Air Guitar.

Right around the corner is Air Guitar(5.10a), a route with a little history. (Goran Kropp died from a fall on Air Guitar.) Ian sort of psyched himself out of doing this one in the past due to that reason. He climbed it, and sewed up the middle section a bit before he ended up leap frogging protection near the top, then running it out when out of gear. You should include two #3s and two #4s in a rack for this climb. (One guide book even says a #5 if you have it, but I think two #4s will do.) I had Ian leave the gear in for my climb. I cruised the lower 2/3s of the climb then the crack got to off hands for me. I didn't have a good jam to move up on, and took a fall trying to go for a higher hold. After a few attempts, Ian gave me the advice to go deep into the crack for a jam. It worked. I basically wound up jamming my forearm, and it gave me enough purchase to make the next hold. That got me up to a big ledge, where what I would call the final crux moves waited. Above the ledge the crack was wider and was either fists or off-width depending on your body size. I couldn't manage to get decent fist jams, and ended up arm barring the last section with a few falls to reach the chains. Since we had the top rope set up, Ian climbed it again, and then I gave it another lap where I struggled more on the lower 2/3s and had an easier time with the off hands section.

Ian on Air Guitar

At this point the wind was picking up, and it was trying to rain on us. Ian and I huddled down for a bit hoping it would pass and then decided to head back to the car area and possibly climb at The Feathers. We took a long scenic way back admiring the flowers on top of the mesa while hiking.

Desert Flowers

Before we got back to the car, we decided to climb at Zig Zag wall. Neither of us had before, and it was about time. So we headed over to Unfinished Business (5.8) as our first route over there. Ian then told me it was my turn to lead, so I led up the route. He wanted to see me climb at my limit, which that route technically wasn't, but was challenging for having smaller holds after we had been doing laps on Air Guitar. I on-sighted the route, and then Ian pink pointed it. He commented about the strenuousness with the small holds and congratulated me on a nice lead. We spoke with a few women about looking at their newer guidebook, then decided on a .10b route nearby. (I think it may have been called Group Therapy?) Ian led it nicely, then I thrashed up it to the chains. (Actually I wasn't that thrashy, just in one section.) We called it a day and ate dinner and hung out in the car before camping. (It had started to rain around 6pm, but we decided to stick it out to see what the next day would bring.)

We woke up at 6:15am and Ian promptly went back to sleep. I took a walk down to the Columbia on the road and just enjoyed the smell of the sage, and the desert morning. When I arrived back at the campsite, Ian was topping out from a free solo of Where the Sidewalk Ends (5.1). We got in the car to get him his morning coffee.

When we got back we headed to The Feathers in an effort to complete his project there. He wanted to start with a warm up on The Uprising (5.8), probably the nicest route at The Feathers. However, he wanted me to lead it. I was intimidated by the first bolt being 15' off the ground and backed off one move from it. Ian led it, and then I pink pointed it afterward. I told him that it was a little too stout of a lead for me to warm up on.

We headed through the notch and geared up for I'd Rather be Skiing at 49° North (5.10b). Ian stated to me that this was still not finished by him due to a somewhat scary clipping issue at the 4th and 5th bolts. (There is a potential for falling on a ledge if falling at that point.) It turns out that is the crux of the climb where it is slightly overhanging and has some awkward foot placements. Ian led it in fine fashion, and I cruised to the crux, and then thrashed a bit trying to overcome it. It mellowed out above that point and I cleaned the anchors.

The next target was Hardening of the Arteries (5.10c). This was another route with a high first bolt which has caused Ian trouble. Although after climbing it, I'd say the crux was between the 2nd and 3rd bolt for sure. Ian led the route with no issues, and I climbed it well to the crux where I got pretty pumped trying to pull through the steep moves before it mellows out again near the top. We left the rope up and allowed a Canadian guy named Peter to top rope the route. Then Ian climbed it again to clean the anchors.

Peter at the Crux on Hardening of the Arteries

The wind picked up again, and we sat in the car for a bit eating lunch and hoping it would subside. Ian had only one route left to complete his task, but neither of us was feeling great about going out and tackling it. So we hiked over to it, and looked at it and proceeded to pack the car and leave for Seattle.

Overall, a great trip. I feel I need to step up the next time I climb with Ian. I usually feel content following harder stuff, but want to start leading some harder stuff too. Perhaps next time.

Morning Glory Take Over

Things That Will Make My MIL Say.....

"oh my!" Because at times, people do leave the tube and go into the water. Here is Austin and Lauren hanging on for dear life:

They're looking good:

Uh oh...there might be trouble:

and Lauren is airborne:

Josh is really upset that his sister flew into the water:

Austin and I ran into trouble too. He body slammed me, then flew into the water where he got the wind knocked out of him. You can see his feet behind the tube here:

I'm still in the tube here:

Really, Mom, we are all fine. Once I saw Austin was ok, this was my reaction to riding in the tube vertically:

I think I'm going to be very sore tomorrow! Living the life in sunny Virginia!