Shake it off!

A cow Moose shakes water from its body after digging in the water for some plants to eat along the Gunflint Trail in Northeast Minnesota.

Sunny

Sunny is our oldest horse. We think he is around 25 years. He would eat us out of house and home if we would let him. He thinks we should feed him 24 hours a day. And grumbles when we don't and when we do. We feed him what the vet says to feed him. He has a big belly but his backbone shows. Vet says we need to re-arrange his body. Says he needs more excersise to do that. But I find it hard to excersise me or the horses when it is as hot as it has been this summer. But we are going to start trying to do more. In the mean time Sunny thinks his retirement is going great. he is a sweet old horse, who loves to be petted, groomed and bathed. I bet he was one heck of a horse when he was young. I don't know anything about who had him or what his life was like then. He and my QH mare, Nita, are best friends.

Angie, Angela

The beach closest to the house is a small and rocky one that
all but disappears at high tide. But I know a spot - behind all the rocks,
in a little hollowed out nook in the side of the cliff - where I can sit on the
wet dark sand, hidden, reading. Well I
call it reading. Only half the time I am lying face down, my cheek pressed into
the open pages of the book.




Once in a while a noise prompts me to look up. Few people come here, most preferring the main beach down the road. But
now I hear the unmistakable sounds of flip-flops.




There are three of them, making their way along rocks
half-submerged in water. The man is athletic and agile, with a deep tan and
spiky brown hair. Close behind is an equally lean and tanned woman, blond ponytail
swinging as she hops from rock to rock. The couple moves with the lightness of teenagers, and only when I catch a glimpse of their faces do
I see they must be in their early 50s. They could be professional athletes. Runners
maybe.




As I contemplate this, they pause, waiting for the person some
distance behind to catch up. It is an elderly female form: soft, hunched-over
body, sagging chest, thinning hair, unsteady mincing gait. The mother or aunt of one of
them, I decide, and go back to my book.




Then I hear the blond woman’s voice and look up again. “Come
on honey,” she says - in the sort of firm but gentle tone used to encourage children. “Come on honey, give mommy your hand.”




I see now that she is a girl of around 14, though it is difficult to tell for sure. She stands awkwardly on the uneven rock, her shoulders hunched forward stiffly, hands at her sides, fingers fanned out, slack mouth
emitting a low pitched moan.




I feel a jolt to my system that I am instantly ashamed of. But it is the unexpectedness, the contrast of it. The couple'seffortless movements and theirbeautiful, youthful bodies, each stretching out a perfectly formed hand toward their child.






“Angie! Angela” says the man now, trying to get her to
look at him rather than down at the water. There is a big gap between the rock
she stands on and the next one, and she is terrified to cross. Her moans grow louder. “Angie! Angela.” The man’s tone is even, patient but not
exaggeratedly so, almost matter of fact.




When she still does not respond, both the man and woman step down into
the water and, in what has the look of a practiced maneuver, pick her up by the upper arms and swiftly move her to the next rock. She is large, and at once so limp and so stiff, it is as if they move a life-sized ragdoll. And then they go on with their trek.




Soon they are gone from my field of vision, but I continue
to think of them. Their light, graceful limbs and her heavy, awkward ones, the sun lighting up her sparse wisps of hair.




In my younger years, I could dwell on such a scene indefinitely,
crying over it without really knowing
why. But now I am better at willing myself to forget, at
removing thoughts and images from my mind, almost surgically. Eventually I go back to my book - reading it, then lying face down on it again.




It is not until three days later that I see her. A girl in
a halter dress, riding her bike along the tiny main street.Her left foot is missing a sandal.And she is coasting, round shoulders relaxed, head tilted back, short sandy hair ruffled by the breeze. She is squinting into the sun and
smiling so broadly, I cannot help but grin back reflexively.



In that moment I
recognise her. I look around for the tanned athletic couple, half
expecting them to be following on bikes or watching from the sidewalk. I don't see them. But the girl is unmistakably her. The face, the body, the hair, the
way her clothing does not sit quite right.It is all there and it is all
perfect, in the utter abandon of her posture and smile.

Racking Your Brain!

For the past month, I have been working on a rear rack prototype for the Bella Ciao "Superba" (which will look nothing like the Roadster rack above), so racks have been on my mind lately. I've been checking out the racks on practically every bike I see, and also paying attention to how I typically use mine.



Although on occasion I will carry a substantial amount of weight on the rear rack of my bike, more often than not all I carry is a single pannier or bag. Sometimes there are groceries and packages involved, and even those often fit into a single large pannier. Once in a while, I will strap an item or two to the top of the rack, but it is not an everyday occurrence. When I look around at other cyclists, at least in the Boston area, I see mostly the same: One or two panniers attached to the side of the rack, or a bag strapped to the top. If I see more than that being transported (on a regular bike, not an Extracycle or a "utility bike"), it's an anomaly.



What about you? Be honest - how much do you really carry on your bicycle's rear rack on a typical day, assuming that it is a standard city bike?







Looking at other cyclists in the Boston area, I've also noticed a gender difference in how much stuff cyclists carry - with women typically having fewer things strapped to the rear rack than men. But there could be many factors accounting for this, and I am not sure how typical this trend is overall.



In addition to how much stuff I carry on the rear racks of my bicycles, I have also been trying to note in what ways I find them convenient versus not. For example, I often lament the lack of bungee cord attachment points on my Gazelle's rear rack. Also, not all racks are compatible with all pannier attachment system - the spacing of the slats on some racks can interfere with the spacing of the hooks. What major complaints, if any, do you have about the rear rack on your main transportation bicycle? You can select multiple items on this one:







Having discovered how to embed these polls and surveys, I admit it's fun to set them up and then look at all the results - but hopefully also useful. I will soon be receiving a sample of the "Superba" rack prototype, and from there it should be just a matter of time until we're done. These racks will fit a standard 700C wheel bike, and regardless of whether you are interested in a "Superba" bicycle, the racks may be available for sale on their own. They won't be sold by me, but I will keep you posted - and your input will certainly be valuable.

Weekend Summary

Something is up with this memory card, twisting up images

The summary of the weekend is easy. Warm weather SUCKS for ice season and turf sticks! Laura and I were motivated enough to try to find a little something to climb. We took a drive to see if we could get on some of the better formed lines as of recent, but to little surprise it was a bust. The ice took a severe beating with multiple 55°+ days. Now the ground is thawed and things are back to square one. Here's a photo of what we set off to climb today.

From almost good to almost gone!

Son of Beastwas looking good a few short days ago

We left and headed for Rattlesnake rocks salvage the day and get in some dry tool groveling. The woods felt like spring not winter. The ground is no longer firm and has turned to muck. My hopes for a serious winter season are hanging by a thread. Blah, Blah, Blah, enough about our lack of cold... Our hike up to the rocks was pleasant with temps in the mid 30's. We were excited to get on some climbs, hoping to get on or up something new. We decided to warm up on the climb we had done the last time we were there. Its about M5 or so and was a pure blast to climb, so seemed like a great place to start and clear the cobwebs. The climb went well until I realized that the last time we climbed the line the ground was frozen and the rock has ice plastered in some of the cracks. The climb today was nothing like the friendly M5 we had climbed last week. This time the lovely, frozen turf and roots were merely unusable loose dirt. The roots weren't frozen and a couple crucial small blocks that were mortared into place by ice now wiggled unnervingly in their current location. They were quite questionable indeed, but needed to support full weight as the wall doesn't offer much in the way of feet. These moves came near the top at a distance out from my last gear that would land me quite close to the ground. The blocks held and so did my nerves. The fun, warmup climb turned into a different experience.

Laura seconding our warm up and only climb of the day

Laura seconded the climb agreeing that the climb took on a little difficulty and upped the commitment level considerably. We enjoyed a cup of coffee at the top and made our way to the bottom. I decided to do a little dry tool bouldering across the blood wall. I started out with everything going well. Hooking, camming, steining I was like hercules making my way across, well not really, but I went to make a move left and my crampon got a little stuck. No big deal happens all the time. A little jostle and ping out it came. Thinking nothing of it I moved on making moves left. All of a sudden I realized I had no front point.

My dart became a DA. Time for some new ones.

I might have to try the new Grivel G20.

Watch for an upcoming review!

Shittttt! I busted the front point off of my dart. It must've been jammed a little tighter than I thought. Low on morale and motivation, we decided that the broken crampon was the deciding factor. Time to call it a day.

We set off to climb ice, got shut out. Went to drytool, climbed a cool line again. Broke a crampon and called it a day... Par for the season. Maybe our luck will be better next time! Happy climbing to all

Loaded

There comes a point in every bicycle blog's existence, when the author feels compelled to show off how much stuff they can carry on their bike as part of some errand for which one might normally use a car. If you think about it, it's impressive that I've held off for this long, so do give me some credit. But I am, after all, only human. And so, my time has come for the self-congratularoty "cargo hauling" post. Keep reading or close your browser in disgust, as you please - but yeah, it will be one of those.



First, allow me to acknowledge that my so-called "cargo" pales in comparison to the likes of what some greater, more adventurous cyclists carry on their bikes every day without batting an eye. But I am neurotic and risk-averse, and I never really have all that much to carry. So for me, this was a great feat worthy of glee and merriment. To give you a sense of scale, the larger box with the J. Crew insignia (I re-use old boxes for shipping) originally contained a long winter overcoat and is almost twice the length of the rack supporting it. The box on top of it is shorter, but taller. And each of the bags on the sides contain two heavy, medium-sized boxes.



The trip was necessitated by my needing to mail a number of large packages simultaneously, which has not happened in a while. If confronted with this situation 5 months ago, I would have simply waited until the Co-Habitant was available and we would drive it all to the post office on a Saturday morning in the car. But now we no longer have a car (at least for the time being - it's not permanent, really!), so I could either make multiple trips to the post office or try to fit it all on my bike at the same time. The latter turned out to be surprisingly - almost disappointingly - easy. Within minutes of deciding to try it, the packages were secured to the sturdy backside of the Urbana bike.



I wasn't sure whether my bungee cord would fit around both boxes, and whether it would be sufficient to keep the boxes sturdy. To my delight, it was a "yes" on both accounts. I secured the two bags on the sides using the rack'shook system (see here and here), which was convenient in that I did not need to use dedicated panniers or ropes. The whole set-up literally took 5 minutes, and then I was off: first gingerly, then at a moderate pace. The postoffice is fairly close to my house, so I cannot boast a grueling ride over hills or along dangerous highways. But for what it's worth, it was raining, and the roads in my neightbourhood are riddled with potholes the size of ditches.



The ride was an uneventful success. Still, I cannot say that I enjoyed cycling with six boxes attached to my bike. I was conscious of them the entire time, and kept worrying that something might fall off - not only getting damaged in the process, but also causing me to panic and do something unwise in the midst of traffic. So... while I can do it if necessary, I am just not one to derive pleasure from loading my bike up with a stack of boxes secured to the rear rack with bungee cords.



On the other hand, I do like the independence such hauling capacity offers, as well as the smooth handling of this particular bike despite the load. Richard Masoner of cyclelicio.us sent me a link to this picture of himself riding an Urbana with an enormous plastic tub bolted to the rear rack, in which he carried 80lb worth of camping gear. Okay, I like it. If this bike were mine, I can see turning it into a dedicated "cargo chariot," with a colour-matched tub permanently attached to the rack. Postoffice run? Toss the packages in the tub. Need to buy furniture or building supplies? Tub! This could seriously eliminate our need for using a car for local errands, without the need for an unwieldy longtail or Bakfiets.



The Co-Habitant cautions against the giant tub idea, pointing out that carrying a heavy load that high is bound to create handling problems. But I wonder whether that applies to all bikes, or whether the Urbana's design accommodates it - after all, the rack is rated for 150lb, and they do not specify that it needs to be carried as low as possible...



So, how about this question: Assuming that (1) one does not plan to transport children, and (2) the rear rack is rated for the weight, what, if anything, is wrong with attaching a Bakfiets-sized container to the rear rack of a hardy transport bike and turning it into a "cargo chariot"? I am not talking milk crate, but a truly enormous tub, as shown here. It seems to me that such a system could really work for a person who cannot deal with (or afford) a longtail or full-on cargobike. It could work for me, for sure.

Cuddle Time

I paid a visit this morning to Loon nest #2 and was delighted to see that one of the chicks had been born! Loon chick #1 was born either last night or early this morning, but the adult continued throughout the afternoon to sit on the second egg, which had not hatched yet as of 6:00 PM this evening when I left the nest. This photo was taken right after the adult called the baby back to the nest. The baby apparently did not want to wait for its sibling and decided to take its first swim on its own!