High Pressure!

Hope everyone has been enjoying the sun. We would love to get some reports or photos of people's climbs if they would like to share. Climb safe.

Clean or Dirty?

When I put my Pashley Princessup for sale last week, I had been planning to wash the bicycle before showing her to potential buyers. But things happened fast, and the Princesswas purchased just as she was. And the surprising thing is, she looked absolutely clean even without having undergone a washing.Examining the shiny frame with just a few specks of dust here and there, you would never knowthat this bicycle had seen a year of use, including having lived through a New England winter. Not only were there no scratches on the finish, but there were no mud stains either. I am not sure how exactly that's possible, but there it is. Is powdercoating not only durable, but somehow stain resistant? Seems unlikely.



In contrast, my poorRivendell Sam Hillborne is absolutely filthy after less than 4 months of use. I will spare you the close-ups of the dirty parts, but he seems to attract mud and grime like honey attracts flies. I am not a person who washes their bicycles after every ride, and I never will be. And while I expected the exposed components on a roadbike to gather dirt, it never occurred to me that the very finish of a bicycle could be dirt-prone or dirt-resistant. The pretty liquid paint on the Rivendell is delicate compared to the thick powdercoat on bicycles like the Pashley and the Gazelle and it is much easier to nick. But does liquid coat also require more cleaning than powdercoat? That is not something I had ever heard before, so I am wondering about others' experience.



Do your bicycles seem to stay clean on their own, or do they require constant washing? And while I do not mind the look of a dirty bicycle, I am wondering whether leaving the Rivendell like this for long can result in any sort of damage or corrosion? Your thoughts appreciated!

Outdoor Cafe

I loved the colors I found in this outdoor cafe off of a coffee shop. There was no one there so we took the time to take several photos of the umbrellas, Spanish style table and chairs, ristras, and flowers in their little garden.

The Joslin Sisters Photograph

The photo below is of four of the daughters of Lysander and Lydia Robison Joslin. It has been retouched to remove some writing that partially identified three of the four women. From that, and comparison of other photographs that have been identified, the ladies are:

• at left, Roxie Arminta Joslin Parkison (1853-1941)
• top, Anna Eliza Joslin Klingaman (1844-1885)
• right, my 2nd Great Grandmother, Malissa Mariah Joslin Brubaker Bower (1849-1937)
• bottom, Mandella "Della" Joslin Quillen (1866-1943)

The only daughter not pictured, that would have been living at the time, was Ida Blanch Joslin Dressler Lewis (1863-1937). There is a picture of Ida and her husband at the bottom of this post. A picture of Lysander and Lydia can be found in this post.

I received the scanned image from a fourth cousin, Jane (descendant of Roxie), in April .. about six months after we made contact via the internet. She received the image file from another descendant of Roxie.

We don't know where or when the picture was taken but Anna Eliza died in July 1885. Della was married at the age of 17 in July 1884, perhaps they got together then. Malissa was living in Whitley County, Indiana at that time while Anna Eliza lived in Jefferson County, Iowa. Roxie was probably still in Barton County, Kansas as was Della.

How Upright Is Upright?

There is a tendency to group all upright transportation bicycles into the same general townie/cruiser-ish category. And when we see the description "upright bike" we imagine whatever it is that fits our own definition of that idea. But differences in what are commonly referred to as "upright" positions can be considerable. Above are three classic examples side by side: a traditional Dutch bike, an Italian city bike, and a French-style mixte - all three of which I have owned and ridden.



To a large extent it is the placement of the handlebars that determines how upright a bicycle is set up. But while the Dutch bike's handlebars can be lowered and the bars on the other two can be raised, it's not entirely as simple as that: The design of the frame itself assumes a particular range of positions; the frame geometry is optimised for it.






The Dutch bike is designed to enable a bolt-uright posture. The handlebars are high. The stem is so short as to be practically non-existant, bringing the bars even closer to the rider's body. The seat tube angle is slack. Altogether, the cyclist is "pushed back" on the bike into what almost resembles an armchair position. The epitome of "upright," this posture is not for everyone. But it is supremely comfortable for short trips and it allows cyclist to observe their surroundings from a greater height.






The traditional French mixte is typically more aggressive than other city bikes. The frame design is frequently not very different from that of a road bike - steep angles, head tube not much higher, if at all, that the seat tube, comparatively lightweight tubing. When built up as upright bikes, these bicycles are at their best when set up with long stems and handlebars at or even below saddle level. With the cyclist's weight pushed forward, the bicycle is extremely responsive and maneuverable. But the "upright" posture with this set-up can be quite aggressively leaned over.





Somewhere in the middle, the Italian city bike is really a variation of the so-called "sports roadster"design(the ubiquitous Raleigh Sports and Lady's Sports were examples of these): swept-back handlebars at or moderately above saddle level, combined with a short stem for a generally upright but slightly leaned-forward position. The seat tube is not as slack as that on a Dutch bike, but still relatively relaxed. The cyclist can lean into the bike if they wish to apply more power, or they can sit back. I personally find this to be a very versatile position - though others might call it "neither/ nor" - neither as regally relaxed as a Dutch bike, nor as maneuverable as a roadish French mixte.



While definitions of "upright bike" run the gamut, my personal definition requires that the bicycle pass the Camera Test. That is, I must be able to ride the bike with my large camera staying put on my back, strap worn across my chest, without the camera rotating to the front. I can't do it on a roadbike with drop bars, not even when I am on the hoods or the tops. But I can do it on all three bikes shown in this post, which makes them all different variations of "upright" to me. What do you typically think of as an upright position, and which do you prefer for everyday cycling?

Honeyman State Park

A short walk from the campground and through the forest leads to this beautiful little lake surrounded by the forest and sand dunes. Double-click on the image to see a larger version... it is a portion of a panoramic view that doesn't quite capture the full beauty and serenity of the place, but does a pretty good job of it!





I sat up on top of this sand dune for several hours, listening to the quiet. The only other people around were those two youngsters at the edge of the water, far below. Optical illusion? After looking at this image for awhile, it is hard to tell whether you are looking down toward water, or up toward sky, either way, it was a long way up/down.





As the sun lowered toward the horizon I left my gorgeous viewpoint and ventured down to the small lake.





Jessie M. Honeyman Memorial State ParkSouth of Florence, OregonSeptember 29, ..

Racing, Spectating and the Human Factor

Two summers ago in Vienna I was fortunate to meet retired professional bicycle racer Kurt Schneider. Now in his 80s, he remains active on the Austrian racing scene in a supporting role, a local personality. A mutual friend introduced us, arranging to meet at Kurt's favourite tavern in the outskirts of the city. I expected it to be a reserved, formal encounter. I arrived to find a relaxed and stunningly energetic man laughing with the waitress, drinking wine, wearing a yellow Livestrong bracelet. We talked about his racing career and his thoughts on various topics, and it was utterly engaging. But even more than the content of that conversation I remember the ever-present twinkle in his eye, the overwhelming charm he exuded. By the end of the evening I was practically sitting on his lap. It was unbelievable. For me it is people like this who make the sport come alive.




As a spectator, my interest in bicycle racing is oddly selective. I notice for instance that I am more drawn to the local racing scene than to the international pro stuff. The more real the person is to me, the more meaning their racing efforts hold. I am in awe of some of the amateur racers I've met in the Boston area. Their physique, their demeanor, their very presence make me "feel" the sport, and I get genuinely excited about it. I love to watch them, and I follow their results with interest. And yet I do not find it terribly exciting to watch professional racing on television. I don't know what it is, but today's big names seem like sterile corporate identities to me. I sense no fire or magical charisma in their personas. I cannot get myself to care about their results or their doping scandals. Maybe it is a matter of not having met them in person. Maybe I am just not into the sport enough to understand. And maybe professional racing is just different now than it was in Kurt Schneider's time. As a spectator, I want more of the human factor, the charisma, the twinkle in the eye.