Spring Evening at High Falls

Grand Portage State Park, MN. The water level at High Falls right now is perfect for doing long exposures and capturing many layers of water. Get there and visit the falls now while the water conditions are optimum for this kind of shot!


These photos were taken a few days ago at Grand Portage State Park in Northeast Minnesota. After the ice broke up on the river this year, the water level was initially at a level of 3.5 feet. A few days after the ice-out, the river level was at 8 feet. Since then, the river level dropped a bit to just over 5 feet, but it is now on the rise again. With more moisture in the forecast for the next day or two, it may reach 8 feet again (or more!). This weekend is shaping up to be another great one to view the falls... come out and see it while the water is high!

One Way Tikit: a Bike Friday Folder

For some time now I've been curious to try aBike Friday folding bike. They are pretty unusual around these parts, so an opportunity never presented itself. Imagine my delight upon discovering that someone I knew owned one. Hidden deep in her bike cave, this single speed Tikit stood mostly unridden since the owner, Pamela, stopped commuting to a downtown office. But hearing of my interest she dusted off the machine, and soon I was over to examine the rare specimen.






Made by the family-owned Green Gear Cycling in Eugene, Oregon, Bike Friday folding bikes have been handbuilt in the USA since the early 1990s. The range of models includes road, touring, mountain, commuter and tandem folding bikes - and all are highly customisable. Most of the models are designed around 20" wheels, with the fold optimised for packing the bike into a suitcase. However, the Tikit commuter modelsare made more compact with 16" wheels, and are designed to fold quickly for multi-modal transportation.






Welded in steel, frame and fork, there are 9 Tikit models in all, offering different drivetrain and handlebar setup options. The One Way Tikit is the single speed/ fixed gear version.






It is set up with a flip-flop hub,






v-brakes, fenders, built-in chainguard,






straight handlebars,





a handy carry handle (could be a bottle cage here instead),






and a low-rider style front rack.







Being a fan of generator lighting, Pamela had set up the bike with a dynamo hub wheel (unattached here, as it had recently been loaned out).







A bike bag also comes with the Tikit, which can be stowed away into a tiny packet when not in use.






Unlike most other folding bikes, Bike Fridays are available in different sizes. I am unsure what size this Tikit translates to, but its virtual top tube measures an inch or so shorter than the Brompton's (which is approximately 59cm). The seat tube is quite tall, with the saddle barely low enough to accommodate myself and the bike's owner (we are both just over 5'6"). However, as I understand it, the seat tube is modular and can be cut down or replaced with a shorter one.





Bike Friday Tikits have had a couple of modifications over the past few years. The area over the bottom bracket is now made stiffer, with older models retrofitted with a stiffener bar. They have also recently made a beefier stem for the Tiket, the older one having been recalled (the bike pictured here has the new stem).






The fold is fairly quick, "less than 9-12 seconds after loosening one twist-locking fastener," according to Bike Friday.






It is Bromptonesque in sequence, except for the seat tube - which gets folded over, rather than slid down.







Notably, the front pannier can be kept on the low-rider rack as the bike is being folded.






The folded bike can be rolled along, using the wheels themselves, with the bag still attached.






It can also be carried by the handle - though Pamela notes that carrying the bike gets heavy and uncomfortable quickly, particularly when stairs are involved. Picking up the single speed Tikit, it did feel slightly heavier than an all-steel Brompton similarly equipped. And the fold is not as compact. However, the carry handle is quite comfortable compared to how a Brompton must be carried, and being able to roll the Bike Friday by its actual wheels (rather than by the tiny roller-wheels on the Brompton) is a big help.






With its hub flipped to freewheel mode, I rode the Tikit around Pamela's neighbourhood. My first impression was that the front-end handling was not dissimilar from my Brompton's. In fact, I would describe the Friday as feeling like a "less extreme" version of the Brompton in that sense. As a result of this similarity, I immediately felt familiar and comfortable with the bike. While the Tikit is Bike Friday's commuter model, with less focus on performance than the others, I certainly found it lively enough - a fun, quick, maneuverable ride. This makes me want to try a smaller size - I bet it would be even more responsive for someone of my stature. With the 16" wheels, there would be no danger of toe overlap no matter what frame size I chose.




On pothole ridden streets, the Tikit's ride quality felt a bit harsh. Riding over torn-up pavement I felt vibrations in my hands and jolts throughout (an impression the bike's owner agrees with). However, on decently maintained roads the ride quality was smooth and pleasant. As an aside here, where we live the roads are particularly poorly maintained; just have a close look at the picture above to see what I mean - the entire street is like that. One could certainly argue that these are not "normal" commuter conditions.






After my initial spin on the Tikit, I then rode it again - this time loaded with some weight. We attached a pannier to the low-rider rack, in which Pamela placed a 10lb bottle of antifreeze. This is about the maximum weight she would typically carry on this bike, she said. The Tikit's low-rider will accommodate most standard panniers, including the one shown from Ortlieb. On a small wheel bike, it is actually not a "low" rider, since it sits above the wheel. This is also how it manages to lift the pannier high enough to keep from dragging along the ground. Little notches along the rack's tubing prevent the pannier from sliding, so it sits securely. The rack is one-sided (right side only), and rolling the bike along I could feel the weight of the pannier pulling to the side. However, once in motion no such thing was discernible. The Tikit handled great with the unilateral front load - I could not feel it at all. This system does limit how much weight one can carry on the bike, but it is handy enough for commuting. I believe that a rear rack is also available for this model.




While I would not switch from my Brompton, I liked the Bike Friday Tikit and would feel comfortable riding it for transportation. A particularly big advantage, as I see it, is the variety in sizes and customisation options. Being able to roll the bike by its wheels is handy as well. And being able to use a standard pannier, as opposed to having to buy a proprietary front bag, could be another plus for those with multiple bikes. Careful tire, saddle and grip selection could compensate for the rough-road harshness I experienced.






When I was over to test ride this bicycle, the owner surprised me by announcing that she plans to give it away. That's right: Pamela Blalock's personal Bike Friday One Way Tikit pictured here could be yours - complete with flip-flop freewheel/fixed gear hub, fenders, front rack, spare generator hub wheel and a spare set of tires (pannier not included). For details of the give-away, please visit The Blayleys blog!




And if you are in the market for a folding bike, visit the Bike Friday website and prepare to be dazzled with their myriad of stock and custom options. The history of the company is pretty interesting as well. Folding bikes of all types made in Oregon, USA, with prices starting at $1,400 and around a month lead time. Pretty neat!

Brake Cable Guides Along the Top Tube

I've been curious about the different styles of rear brake cable routing along top tubes. If you look at vintage roadbikes and some currently produced classic bikes, they tend to have three guides along the top, with the brake cable passing through them enclosed in housing.






On the other hand, modern bikes tend to have two stop guides underneath the top tube, with the exposed inner cable stretched between them.






There are variations to this, such as routing the two stop guides along the side of the top tube, as well as possiblyalong the top. There is also internal routing and a variety of methods for bikes without top tubes, but that is a separate story. The three through-guides along the top vs the two stop-guides (usually) along the bottom seem to be the dominant methods as far as I can tell.






From a purely tactile standpoint, my own preference is the top routing. I don't like feeling the exposed brake cable along the bottom when I pick up the bike by the top tube. And when it's routed along the side I can sometimes feel it with my leg, or my clothing catches on one of the stop guides. Some say they prefer the vintage style because the brake cable is safer from the elements when enclosed in housing. Others explain that the two stop-guides method improves rear braking and saves weight - while others still argue that the differences are not significant enough to be of real advantage.I've also heard horror stories about people's genitals getting torn on the cable guides along the top, which is supposedly why this style is no longer the norm.I have no idea how legitimate any of these reasons are. Is there is an official explanation of the advantages of one style over another? Which do you prefer?

Shh.

The trees have ears.

Another Bumble

Two Bridges

It is exciting to see new things happening in an old city, especially when these developments change the dynamic of the landscape completely. The Peace BridgeinDerry/Londonderryis so named for connecting different parts of the city that have historically been divided due to the religious and political conflicts that have plagued Northern Ireland in years past. And the fact that it is a car-free bridge for walking and cycling adds an additional layer of symbolism: Unlike motorists, the pedestrians and cyclists crossing are unshielded by anonymity. It is the ultimate gesture of mutual trust and connectedness.Along the river bank, a new bicycle path is being built that will link this bridge to another further down the river for an even greater sense of unity.






I have never been to Derry prior to the construction of the new bridge. But as a first time visitor I cannot imagine it not being there.Not only do the modern shapes of the contemporary structure harmonise with the historical buildings in the background (from some vantage points, the bridge even appears to "hug" the old city center), but its usefulness and influence on local culture were apparent.






People walking and riding their bikes, some in a hurry and others strolling with newspaper in hand while enjoying the view - the city feels alive and my impression is that this liveliness is recent.Walking through the city center early on a Sunday morning, my impression was that the city was waking up in more ways than one.




Being in Derry, I truly felt it as a living organism in the process of transition. The city wants to be vibrant, it is on the verge of it. The air is electric with change and potential. It is an exciting place to be while this development is happening.





As a funny contrast to the Peace Bridge in Derry, I had earlier visited theCarrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge on the Antrim coast. In decades past a precarious bridge built forfor local fishermen to crossfrom a tiny rocky island to the mainland, it is now a tourist attraction.For a fee of£5.60 you can cross the bridge, circle the island and come back.






The tug of war between this being a tourist attraction for which an admission fee is charged, while still being part of nature and therefore inherently dangerous, is interesting to observe.






Not all who attempt to cross the bridge are able to, as it sways and feels rather unstable. And so in a sense it is also a test of courage - accentuating differences between those who attempt to cross it. Some grasp the rails in a panic, others dance across mockingly. I am told that once the coast guard had to be called because a tourist had a panic attack on the other side of the bridge and could not cross back.









Most visitors get to the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge in a car. There is a huge car park by the road, next to it a tea house. From there a scenic path leads down to the bridge itself. The path is maybe a 15-20 minute walk, downhill, with beautiful views throughout. I had gone there in late afternoon and the last group of tourists was still about. Walking down the path, one woman said to her husband "My God, why couldn't they make this thing closer to the parking lot? This is ridiculous!"




That is my story of the two bridges.

Bicycles, Walls and the Passage of Time

Over the holidays I received a DVD of a film diptych that I'd long wanted to watch: Cycling the Frame and The Invisible Frame, directed by Cynthia Beatt.



In 1988, Beatt made the short filmCycling the Frame. Described as a "cine-poem," this 30 minute documentary follows a young British actress (Tilda Swinton) as she cycles along the perimeter of the Berlin Wall in what was then West Berlin. It is a 100 mile journey along mostly abandoned roads and overgrown dirt paths crossing forests and fields. The ever-present wall, with its menacing guard towers, turns the landscape surreal: It severs railroad tracks, creates paths to nowhere, and separates waterfront properties from the bodies of water they front. As Swinton pedals, she vocalises her stream-of-conscience thoughts about the things she sees and how they make her feel. As she grows tired of cycling and overwhelmed with her surroundings, the film begins to resemble a dream sequence. Finally she arrives to her Brandenburg Gate start and concludes that "this place is mad."



More than two decades after the original journey, the director and actress set out again to film the follow up, The Invisible Frame. In , they retrace their route along the now long-absent Berlin Wall. A visibly more mature, sharper dressed Tilda Swinton cycles the perimeter, this time weaving back and forth across the phantom border. There are signs of life now: The roads have bike lanes and motorised traffic. On some of the dirt paths we see joggers, dog walkers, children and other cyclists. But despite an apparent return to normality along these stretches, the majority of the landscape is no less eerie twenty years after the wall's removal. We see abandoned buildings, barren fields, dingy looking lakes, random bits of strangeness. It's as if scarred, dead space remains left where the separation used to be. Disconcerted, Swinton meditates on this as she pedals, concluding that "when one wall comes down others come up."



While these aren't cycling films exactly, the prominent role of the bicycle is impossible to ignore. From a practical standpoint, a bike was necessary to make the films happen. Much of the route along the real/ phantom Wall is not accessible to cars, and traveling 100 miles on foot would not have worked with the scope of the project. The speed of the bicycle matched the speed with which the narrative needed to flow, and even the camera crew traveled via a cargo recumbent. As each film progresses, the bicycle begins to seem increasingly important, merging with Swinton's visceral sense of self. She starts to mention it in her stream-of-conscience utterings, to talk about space in relation to not just her, but to her and the bike, to confuse herself with the bike. While this contributes to the mystical feel of the films, it will also be recognised by cyclists as a completely normal sensation to have during long rides.



It was interesting also that the bicycle seemed well-matched to Swinton's person in each of the films. In the original, the actress's flowing clothing looks worn and a little disheveled; her hair natural and slightly unkempt. The bike she rides is a rickety swoopy mixte with faded paint. In the newer film, Swinton is dressed in a stylized and sophisticated manner. She wears architectural-looking clothing and shoes. There are sharp angles to her haircut, her hair now a platinum blond. The bicycle she rides is angular and modern, its paint metallic. This transformation in personal style and bike echoes the rift I felt between the earlier and the latter films. Cycling the Framecame across as spontaneous and exploratory, whereas The Invisible Frameseemed stiffer and more choreographed. The actress/cyclist is no longer the same person and does not relate to this landscape in the same way. She talks about openness, but speaks in political and philosophical generalities and is seemingly less present in Berlin itself.



Can we ever recreate an experience, or re-visit a place? And can we ever really understand another country, as we tour it on a bike with a foreigner's benign detachment and predatory curiosity? These are the questions these films, with their collective 200 miles of cycling along a real/ unreal wall perimeter, ultimately seem to be asking.



If you are local and would like to borrow my copy, drop me a line. The Invisible Framecan be viewed on netflix, but the original Cycling the Frame was not available online last time I checked.

Along The Central Coast of California

Wednesday, May 1st - - No matter how many times I take this route, it never ceases to amaze me. This stretch of highway has got to be one of the prettiest (and most challenging) drives in our beautiful country! It doesn't hurt that I had an absolutely gorgeous day for my drive north along the Coast Highway with lots of sunshine and temperatures in the upper 60s.



I didn't take a lot of photos - my goal for today was simply to relax, enjoy myself and the scenery, and to get to Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park (26 miles south of Carmel and about 90 miles north of Morro Bay) before nightfall. That 90 mile drive took me nearly five hours. Yes, I stopped. A lot. It was fantastic!





Along the southern section of the Central Coast, a "few" miles north of Morro Bay - the hills and mountains are still some distance from the coastline but there are still cliffs to navigate to get down to the water. This wasn't one of them but there were a few places where you could actually get to the beach.









Occasionally, the highway weaved inland through canyons and around hills. You can see a small stretch of the road in the upper right corner.





Guardrails along the highway are present only in some areas, particularly where there is a distinct drop-off or very sharp curve.








There were a few delays along the way for road construction, but no long waits. I would imagine there are longer waits on the weekends when there is more traffic.






Yeah, it was a gorgeous day!




You can just barely see it, but to the right of the "big rock" in the water is one of the many bridges, engineering marvels, really.








A close-up of the bridge in the previous photo.


I arrived safely at Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park in plenty of time to admire the big trees and take a walk around the campground. My site was next to a little stream and the sound of the water flowing by was very relaxing. I didn't see the sunset over the ocean but the sky above the trees surrounding the campground was filled with many shades of pink and pale orange. It was a fitting end to a great day.

Speaking of Saddles

Earlier this week I was visiting Cycle Loft - a local bicycle shop known, among other things, for its extensive fit studio.I will be test riding a few of their bikes this summer, and the staff suggested I undergo a fitting session beforehand. As we were getting started, the fitter - Joel - caught sight of the Selle Anatomica I was riding. He asked whether I wanted to use my own saddle, given how particular it was, or try something new.



Today there are lots of high quality, well thought-out saddle designs on the market, in a variety of materials. The trick is to find one that fits our particular anatomy, position and riding style. For the past two years I've been going back and forth between a Berthoud touring saddle and a Selle Anatomica on my roadbikes. These saddles are as close as I've been able to get to being truly comfortable over long distances. But neither is perfect. SoI decided to keep an open mind and see what the fitter recommended.





To start with, Joel measured my sit bones. This is something I've never had done "professionally" before, so it was pretty exciting. Cycle Loft uses the Specialized "Body Fit" method, which, as I understand it, is comparatively un-intrusive (no pelvic fondling, etc.). But there is a nifty device involved. A stool was brought out with a butt-shaped pillow, upon which I sat as instructed. When I stood up, my sit bones left two clear indentations, which Joel swiftly measured.





The figure was 135mm - considerably narrower than what I thought my sit bone width was based on my DIY measurements (the figure I'd come up with was more like 150mm). But we repeated the process just to make sure and got the same number again - so looks like 135mm it is.



Joel explained that a saddle should be wider than the sit bone width itself. How much wider depends partly on the rider's position and partly on the saddle's shape. As far as the rider's position, the more leaned forward you are, the narrower area of support is needed. That much I'd known. As far as saddle shape, Joel showed me a selection or road/racing saddles and pointed out that on some the sitting surface was flat across, while on others it was rounded, like an arc. For all my careful scrutiny of saddle shapes, this was not a distinction I'd explicitly been aware of before, so I was excited to learn something new. For any given rider, on a rounded saddle the width needs to be greater than on a flat saddle.



According to the fit chart, the saddle width recommended for my sit bones was 155mm minimum. My Berthoud saddle (which is flat) measures 160mm across, and my Selle Anatomica (which is rounded) measures 170mm across. My comfort with both makes sense according to this fit method.





Next, Joel asked what I liked and disliked about the saddles I normally use. I explained that my saddles are fairly wide across the rear, yet have narrow, racing-style noses. The wide rear and narrow nose combination works for me, because this waymy butt feels fully supported but I don't get thigh-rub. Other saddles I've tried tend to be either too narrow or too wide all around, which doesn't work. I also like the feel of suspended leather, compared to other surfaces I've tried.



As far as what I don't like, that is a little trickier to explain. The Berthoud feels a bit too hard, whereas the Selle Anatomica has a bit too much give. And with each, I occasionally - at random times, it seems - feel pressure or pinching in the middle of my "soft tissue." It happens rarely now compared to the problems I used to have, but it does still happen occasionally. We discussed all this in detail, as well as the other saddles I've tried. I described my dislike of gel (I sink into it and feel horrible pressure), my inability to ride Terry saddles (the slots are somehow in the wrong place), and finding the edges of many racing saddles "too sharp" as I pedal.





After taking all of this in, Joel suggested I try the Romin Evo saddle by Specialized (interesting write-up about it here). It had everything I seemed to need: a rounded wide rear (168mm across), a narrow nose, and a firm, but not rock-hard, surface. A channel down the middle and a curved nose were designed to avoid contact with exactly the pressure-prone spots I'd identified. It is not a woman-specific saddle, but then neither are my own. A synthetic saddle made by a big-name manufacturer, it was not what I would normally gravitate toward, but I'd said I would be open minded, and so I would.



The Romin Evo is now fitted on the demo bikeI'm riding. I could not feel it under me on the initial 30 mile ride, but I will withhold judgment until after the follow-up, 100K ride.



But whether this particular saddle wins me over is beside the point. What I appreciated the most was the generally informative conversation with the fitter - who I felt was neutral and knowledgeable when it came to various styles, materials, aesthetics and brands of saddles. I would like to keep learning myself, and at some point to post a comprehensive guide that might be of help to those at a loss for where to start.