Revisiting My First 5.9's: Bonnie's Roof, Ants' Line & Directissima

This post will eventually describe the climbing I did on Labor Day weekend with my old pal Parker.




But first I want to talk about what I did this summer.




You will recall that I spent a disappointing, rainy week in New Paltz at the end of June/beginning of July.




In the time since then I have been silent.




It has been a wonderful couple of months. I've had exciting travels and adventures.




Unfortunately these exciting travels and adventures did not include rock climbing.




Hence my silence. But I think you, my rock climbing audience, deserve a little taste of what my summer has been about.




I went to New Hampshire twice, and even reached the top of Cannon Cliff. I was in the area on daddy duty, shuttling my two kids to and from summer camp. Climbing was not on the agenda. So although we went to the top of Cannon, we did not scale the cliff via a classic route like Moby Grape (5.8). Instead we took the Aerial Tramway.









(Photo: View down Cannon Mountain from the Tramway on a somewhat foggy day.)




While we were in Franconia Notch State Park we also took in the sights of the Flume Gorge. This natural rock channel is nice, though not nearly as nice as the rock climbing that is available just up the road. The hike through the gorge is fun, I guess. I recommend it if you are in Franconia Notch and by some cruel turn of fate you are not allowed to go rock climbing.









(Photo: The Flume Gorge in Franconia Notch State Park, NH.)




After I dropped the kids at camp, my wife Robin and I found ourselves for the first time in many years with two weekends completely free of the children, during which we could do whatever we wanted. This was my big opportunity. I could have gone climbing. But it didn't feel right. It seemed more appropriate for us to do things Robin and I would both want to do, as a couple.









(Photo: Montauk Point.)




So we went to the beach on the first weekend, and went hiking in the Adirondacks on the second.









(Photo: Avalanche Pass.)




On our first day in the Adirondacks we did a long day hike from Adirondack Loj past Marcy Dam and on to Avalanche Pass. The hike then continued up from Avalanche Pass to reach the summits of Mt. Iroquois and Mt. Algonquin (the second-highest mountain in New York) before returning to the Adirondack Loj via the trail past Wright Peak. Our route covered more than fourteen miles of wilderness. Much of it was quite rugged and wet. The trail from Avalanche Pass up to the saddle between Iroquois and Algonquin was especially steep and slippery. For much of its length, this segment of the trail required rock-hopping up a running stream. We enjoyed the challenge, and the views got better and better as we progressed, with numerous waterfalls along the way and Mt. Marcy gradually appearing behind the summit of Mt. Colden.









(Photo: Mt. Marcy just starting to peek out from behind Mt. Colden.)




While we were hiking Robin and I passed by quite a few rock climbs. In Avalanche Pass there is a lot of climbing, notably a 5.9 on Mt. Colden called California Flake. When we went through the pass this climb was soaking wet-- it has been a rainy year-- but still I wished I could hop on it. As we continued through the pass we got a great view of the Trap Dike, a long scramble up a huge gully on Mt. Colden. This is also a popular ice route in the winter. The Trap Dike is much bigger than I'd previously realized. It is truly impressive. Even though it is an easy climb, barely fifth-class, I'd love to come back to do it.




From the summit of Mt. Iroquois we had a good partial view of Wallface, the largest cliff in New York. For years I've been itching to do the classic Wallface route Diagonal (5.8), but I've never found the time to do it. It can't be tackled from NYC in a single day. At a bare minimum you'd have to set aside a weekend to get up to the region, hike in, and do the climb. Staring at Wallface from above, seeing the cliff in real life for the first time, I was awestruck. It appeared not just huge, but ominous and spooky. I got chills just looking at it.









(Photo: Wallface Mountain, seen from the summit of Mt. Iroquois.)




On our second day in the Adirondacks, Robin and I did an easier hike up the trail past the peaks known as the Three Brothers to the summit of Big Slide Mountain. (This was about eight miles round trip.) Along the way we got a glimpse of the rock climbing routes on the summit cone of Big Slide Mountain. There are just a few routes (and keep in mind I have not tried them!) but this location features incredible views of the entire Great Range. I would consider returning here for the climbing, as limited as it is, because the setting is especially scenic. As Robin and I discovered, this is a great hike even if you don't partake of the rock climbing at the end. The trail was quite muddy during our visit, which was not a problem except that Robin wasn't wearing her hiking boots. After the long hike the day before, her ankles were sore and it was too painful for her to wear her boots on our second day. So she negotiated the mud in her Converse sneakers. It worked out fine, but I wouldn't recommend Converse All-Stars for hiking, or for much of anything, really. Robin's pair went straight into the trash as soon as we finished the hike.









(Photo: View of the Great Range from the part of Big Slide where the rock climbing begins.)




When our children returned to our custody in mid-August we took off on our biggest adventure of the summer: we flew to London and then sailed off on a ten-day cruise to the fjords of Norway.




This was a family trip with Robin's parents, sisters and nephews. A cruise was not our preference; it was imposed on us. We've never been attracted to the cruise lifestyle and we both expected to feel stifled by the whole environment. I didn't like the idea of being constrained to follow the cruise's schedule, and any cruise, by its very nature, makes it impractical for me to incorporate my two sports-- climbing and cycling-- into the vacation. So we went into the whole cruise thing with low expectations.









(Photo: Kayaking with my daughter at the head of the beautiful Geirangerfjorden, Norway.)




Despite ourselves, we loved the cruise. The ship was pretty swanky, the scenery incredible. Norway is the most beautiful place I've ever been. We sailed by gorgeous fjords, kayaked beneath huge waterfalls, hiked past mirror-like lakes to beautiful blue glaciers, and danced our hearts out every night in the ship's disco.









(Photo: Cruising the Innvikfjorden, Norway.)










(Photo: Aurlandsfjorden at sunrise.)




After the cruise was over we spent a few nights in London. We had wonderful weather and had fun seeing the Tower of London, the Tate Modern, and Buckingham Palace, among other sites.









(Photo: The Tower Bridge in London.)




All of these travels were wonderful, but I'm sad to say that even while I was off seeing the world and having a great time, my obsessed mind never strayed too far from all the climbing I was missing.




I couldn't wait to get back at it. We were due to return home just before Labor Day weekend. I prayed the weather would cooperate. I had a partner lined up: my old buddy Parker, the man who'd braved the rain to belay me when I finally got up the sac to lead MF(5.9). I hadn't climbed with him in nearly two years, but he sent me a message while I was abroad saying he was coming up to the Gunks from Virginia for Labor Day weekend. He asked if I could meet him on Saturday.




Could I?? Hell yes!




The forecast was iffy. It was supposed to be muggy and in the 80's. There was a 40 percent chance of thundershowers.




Ultimately we got pretty lucky. It didn't rain until after 5:00. And the crummy forecast kept the hordes at bay. We had our pick of climbs, even though it was a holiday weekend.




Without meaning to, I ended up revisiting several of the first 5.9's I ever climbed at the Gunks, back in .




I drove up to meet Parker in New Paltz with no big ambitions to fulfill. I hadn't been climbing outside in nearly two months and hadn't seen a climbing gym in weeks. After my cruise vacation I felt fat and out of shape. I had no idea how I'd do once we actually got down to climbing.




Still I didn't want to defeat myself by not even trying, so when we met at the parking lot I volunteered for the first lead and suggested a climb: Bonnie's Roof. I thought it would be a good choice because it is a pretty casual 5.9 with a very well-protected crux. I was pretty sure it would be no problem for me and that it would build confidence. And I thought that if by some miracle I was really feeling good I could run the first pitch right into the Bonnie's Direct finish (also rated 5.9), doing both pitches in one.




Also Bonnie's is one of my favorites and I hadn't been on it this year. Why not give it a go?




Well, it went fine, but it didn't feel all that casual. It was so humid out that I was quickly bathed in sweat. I chalked my hands repeatedly but they still felt slippery. I started placing pro very frequently-- Bonnie's Roof allows placements at will-- and soon I gave up the thought of running both pitches together.




Even though I scaled back my plans I wasn't too worried about the pitch, since the crux protects so well. I remembered my first time on the route, four years ago. It was one of the best days ever: I successfully led CCK (5.7+) onsight and then Bonnie's. Both of them were big deals to me at the time. On that day, while I was still on the ground getting set to start climbing Bonnie's, I remember that a passing stranger suggested to me that I bring the blue #3 Camalot for the crux. On that occasion I had committed, getting fully into the steep bit at the roof before realizing it was time for the blue cam. When I suddenly remembered the stranger's advice, I slammed the piece in and clipped it, then desperately pulled up on the great handholds while my right foot flailed about, trying to get established on the right side of the corner above the roof. Finally I was able to get the foot on the wall and stand up. What a great feeling that was... and of course it was all so unnecessary!




This time, in , I placed the blue cam from below. You can reach right up and slot it behind the point at the end of the roof, before you step up into the steepness. There is no need to desperately plug and go. And with a little footwork the moves are not an issue. It is still a great feeling to get over the roof, and then the rest of the pitch is very casual.




I built a belay at the end of pitch one, wishing I had brought a knife to cut all the junky slings off of the fixed station there. I don't know why this station exists. It is too high up for top-roping and no one raps from it. The slings are all old and faded and it is hard to tell what the newer bits are attached to. I have never used this station without backing it up. If I go up there any time soon I plan to chop it.




Parker made quick work of the Bonnie's Roof Direct finish. I wasn't sure how it would feel to me on this greasy day but I remembered it feeling surprisingly easy last year. This time I think I puzzled over the first move for longer than I did when I led it last year. Chalk it up to my being out of practice. When I finally made the move, slotting my hand in the vertical crack and moving my feet up until I could reach the jugs, it went well and the pitch was over within seconds. I wished I'd led it.




Once we got back to the ground, we saw the cliff was starting to get a little crowded. People were lining up for Ursula (5.5) and there was another party headed up Bonnie's. But I was shocked to see no one on Ants' Line (5.9). If this climb was available I had to do it. Ants' Line is one of those climbs that gets toproped to death, because it has a bolted anchor at the end of the pitch and there is a 5.7 way to reach the bolts (via Sleepwalk). Thus it is seldom open. I hadn't managed to get on it in three years.




Ants' Line was my very first 5.9 lead. It is a first 5.9 for many people because it follows a vertical crack up a corner which eats gear. There is no mysterious crux move but it builds in steepness as it progresses. It requires endurance and good corner technique.




I think I did a pretty good job on this one in . I placed a ton of gear and got tired, but I hung on to the finish. It was another one of those magical days in which it seemed like a whole world was opening up. I led my first 5.8's (Arrow and Airy Aria) earlier in the same day, and when those climbs went really well, I decided to go for it on Ants' Line. The corner looked so inviting. After Ants' Line went down, I felt like I'd become a totally different climber in a single day. Maybe I ascribed too much significance to this one 5.9 lead-- maybe this overconfidence led in some way to my broken ankle on Insuhlation (5.9) later that same year.





In I hoped it would be just another 5.9, well within my limits. I hoped to prove to myself I wasn't as rusty and out of shape as I felt.




I think I probably did a better job on Ants' Line in than I did this time. My hands were so greasy in the humid conditions, I started rushing because I just wanted it over with. Aware that I was getting tired, I didn't execute the moves with much finesse. Still I hung on and completed the pitch. It remains a great climb, and one I will hop on again-- if I ever see it open.




It was Parker's turn and he decided to lead Teeny Face (5.10a) in one pitch. This is one I'd like to lead some time myself. The crux is pretty short, just a couple of crimpy sequences that lead to jugs. I top roped it once with Maryana and really enjoyed it. Following Parker, I liked it very much again. He looked solid negotiating the steep moves up the orange face. The lead looked reasonably well protected to me, although you do make the crux moves above the (bomber) gear. On my turn, the moves seemed harder than I remembered. I got through it, but on one of the crimps I could easily have blown it.




I was starting to feel pretty worn out. Was it the heat? I had planned to lead Obstacle Delusion (5.9) next but after we finished Teeny Face I decided I didn't have to prove anything to anyone and that we might as well dial it back a bit.




I suggested we do Modern Times (5.8+). But when we walked over to it another climber was just starting up.









(Photo: You're in the wrong place, my friend! A climber snookered by the tree into going off-route on Modern Times (5.8+).)




Standing there at the base of Modern Times, Parker and I noticed that, miracle of miracles, the entire High Exposure buttress was empty. Parker mentioned that he'd never done Directissima (5.9). This seemed like a great option for us. I told him I would lead the short 5.8 first pitch, and then he could lead the second, crux pitch and run it together with the glorious 5.6 pitch to the GT Ledge.




This was yet another 5.9 climb that I first attempted in . In retrospect, I don't think I was really ready to lead it at that time. Back then I couldn't figure out the crux move. I ended up falling on the fixed pin at the crux, then hanging, and finally pulling on the draw attached to the pin to reach the next hold. I have since gone back and led it clean. The climb remains one of my favorites. The first two pitches are both odd and little frightening, with tenuous traverses. Then the payoff comes with the beautiful 5.6 climbing up the point of the arete, with great views on either side of you due to your position on a buttress sticking out from the face of the long cliff.




Pitch one of Directissima is a little bit intimidating right off the ground. But I'd led it twice before so with Parker I had little hesitation as I stepped right up into the layback position on the smeary, angled ramp. Once you step up the climbing is easy, with good pro, until you reach the crux move, traversing past the point of the buttress, reaching around a bulge to a big jug. It is a balancy maneuver with poor footholds. There is good pro to your left but the ground feels awfully close. Once you brace yourself and make the reach over, you scamper up and right to a belay ledge next to an obvious, chalked-up finger rail that heads left.









(Photo: Parker at the crux of Directissima (5.9).)




Parker was taking the crux pitch so now I could just sit back and watch. The traditional second pitch of Directissima is only 25 feet long. It traverses straight left for fifteen feet on the narrow finger rail across a steep face, and then a reachy crux move past the pin takes you to a little ledge. The first challenge is getting yourself to commit to the finger rail. It is kind of scary. But once you're in it the finger locks are very good and you can (and should!) get a couple of placements (yellow Alien/Metolius) along the way.




Parker hesitated at first, right at the start of the pitch, but once he moved out onto the face he made it look easy. He is over six feet tall so the crux reach required no special technique from him. He breezed right out to the pin and then moved up to the ledge in no time. Then at my urging he continued, doing the nice 5.6 pitch to the GT Ledge as well. When I followed it went well. I found the traverse to be more comfortable than I remembered and I dispatched the crux move with surprising ease-- I don't want to wreck it for you so I won't say exactly how. But it isn't actually all that reachy if you do it right. I've actually solved it in two different ways.




Once I joined Parker at the GT Ledge it seemed almost churlish not to finish with the crux pitch of High Exposure (5.6+). The climb was just sitting there open, with no one on it and no one waiting. How often does that happen? It had been a few years since I was last on the climb-- if I'm not mistaken I think my last time was when I followed Liz up the pitch in -- and while there may have been a time when I never wanted to do it again, the climb made for a great last pitch of my day with Parker. It was just interesting enough for my rusty bones and brain. With no worries and the humidity finally seeming to lift a little, I started to fully relax and just enjoy myself for the first time all day.









(Photo: The classic top-out shot on High Exposure (5.6+).)





As we descended to the ground, debating whether we should do another climb or call it quits, we could hear the sound of thunder in the distance, heralding not just an incoming storm but with it a change of weather. It was time to declare summer over and go home.





It was sort of a lost summer for me, climbing-wise, with no climbing achievements to savor. Whether I can get in shape for any big accomplishments in the fall remains an open question. So far has been a year in which I've grown increasingly comfortable trying to climb 5.10's in the Gunks, but I still have precious few sends to my credit on such climbs. I do have climbing time mapped out for the autumn, including a couple of days in the 'Dacks in late September, and with some hard work and a little luck I hope I can translate these days into something that feels like progress.

Sport vs Transport: a Polarisation

When I write about topics such as cycling clothing, fixed gear, bike handling skills, etc., someone will inevitably chime in to point out that these things are not necessary for "everyday" cycling. This is rather ironic given that my blog started precisely because I felt such things were not necessary for everyday cycling. It is also ironic, because I still very much agree. This here above is a transportation bicycle. It is my "everyday bike" - that is, the bicycle I ride to get around. In a skirt and blouse. In a 3/4 length overcoat. In office shoes. With my laptop bag strapped to the rear rack. It is the exact same type of bicycle I rode for transportation when I first started this blog. My preferences in this regard have not changed over time; they have only solidified.






Now this here is a roadbike. This type of bicycle is designed for sport, and it is meant to go fast over long distances. I love riding this thing. I ride is as fast as I can, because that's the point - to get an intense workout and to see how well I can do. As with other athletic activities (jogging, aerobics, skiing), it is more comfortable and also customary to wear special clothing for roadcycling. That is why on my roadbike I wear padded shorts, a cycling jersey, padded gloves and dorky sunglasses. Sometimes even a helmet. Over time, I have come to enjoy the sport of roadcycling more and more, and while I am not very good at it yet, I hope that some day I might be. I've recently joined a local club. Maybe in a couple of years I can even race. But all of this has as little to do with me as a transportational cyclist, as a newfound interest in running would have with my being a pedestrian.






It is an unfortunate fact that in some countries today, including the US, cycling for sport and cycling for transportation are often confounded. It is also true that when some people get into road cycling, athletic sensibilities end up colouring their view of what transportation cycling should be like as well: They grow impatient with the slower speed of upright bikes, and find it strange to wear everyday clothes on a bicycle at all. For these reasons, I do understand why it makes some nervous when roadcycling topics appear on this blog. Will I eventually be lost to this mentality? I have good reason to believe that no. I am not willing to change the way I dress in order to accommodate the bike, and I cannot ride a roadbike comfortably in my regular clothing. There have been situations where I've ridden diamond frame bikes with drop bars for transportation out of necessity, and I can certainly do it. But inevitably I am miserable, and I long for my upright step-through bike.






Aside from the clothing issue, I just feel safer and more relaxed cycling through traffic in an upright position. And since Icontrol my speedin an urban environment anyhow, my upright bike is more than good enough for me in that respect. Step-through frames have the additional advantage in that they are easy to hop on and off, especially with packages on the rear rack. No matter how nicely a bicycle handles, unless it has a step-through frame I ultimately find it impractical for me in an everyday context. I have very clear ideas at this point of what works for me as a transportation bicycle, and being involved in roadcycling has only made me appreciate the differences between sport and transport more. I have no desire to blend the two activities.When I ride a roadbike, I basically looklike thisand I am not bothered by that in the least. Speed over style, to be sure. But for getting around in everyday life, I want to retain my identity, and I want to feel comfortable in every way.





To me, thinking of roadcycling and transportation cycling as two radically different things just seems like common sense. In Europe I know many people who race for sport, but get around town on a traditional upright bicycle, and this is considered entirely normal.Why even Henry of Workcycles used to race, and still enjoysriding his track bike on the velodromeon a regular basis. Perhaps some day this dichotomy will be better understood in the US as well. Some do believe that road and transportational cycling can overlap, or at least inform each other, and I am not threatened by that point of view. Also, sometimes it's just fun or funny to combine the two: There are, after all, cargo bike races, Brompton races, and no doubt someone out there has held an omafiets race. Steven Fleming of cycle-space wrote a post on how racing for sport and riding a cargo bike for transportation figure into his identity, which I certainly found interesting. Me, I simply see the road vs transportation cycling dichotomy as the 2-wheeled version of walking vs jogging. The more I cycle for transportation, and the more involved I get in roadcycling as a sport, the more I appreciate them as two distinct and separate realms.

Trees

Nomic Hammers?

Blatant commercial spiel here..so be warned.

This is something I have been doing commercially but generally under the radar for the last 3 years all the while trying to get Petzl to do it themselves. The new Nomic will offer a hammer as an option.

I'll also be making this hammer as a retro fit for all the newest tools and the new picks this coming winter. But no reason to sell your old Nomic. Most of the newest features can be upgraded into your current Nomic including the better umbilical attachment point and hammer.

First experience with the new lower grip pommel is it will also retro fit with a little effort.

This hammer is lighter and better balanced than Petzl's new hammer for the Nomic. I cut new factory picks to fit my hammer. Spare picks for these hammers can also be easily made from the older style (pre winter of '10/'11) Quark picks and a few minutes on a grinder. Nomic pick weights are 62grams. The CT hammer is 34grams. The Petzl Nomic hammer is 65g.

New Irishtown Mixed Route, Dirty-T M4+

Laura Hahn seconding the new route Dirty-T M4+

Laura and I put up a new mixed line at Irishtown. Its located a hundred feet or so left of Dynamite. There is a line of ice in between the two mixed lines named Pale Wildwood Ice Tower - WI4. Its not quite in yet, but should be touching down by mid next week. Dirty T M4+. It climbs up through some ledges and face passing 3 bolts. Climb up through a small overlap to the ice and finish it up with turf to the trees. Lots of fun climbing for almost anyone. Great introduction for the climber looking to combine rock and ice.

Pulling up onto the ice

Top of the ice section

Turf to the top

The route name came from all the dirt that came off of the cliff and ended up all over me. It started out with me being clean and the route being dirty and ended with me being dirty and the route being clean. Enjoy!

Dirty deeds done dirt cheap

Ancient ice tool used by the Irishtownian ice climbing tribe

Mountain Bikes... Approaching the Beast

Of all the lakes in the vicinity, I had to fall in love with the one on top of a mountain, accessible only via a steep rough gravel road. I have been up there in a car with friends a few times now. But what I really want is to be able to go on my own - ideally without motorised help. My tentative plan was to ride up the paved part of the mountain on my roadbike, then hike the remaining 2 miles up the gravel lake road - either leaving my bike hidden in the woods below or dragging it along.




"Or..." said my friend Keith, "I can lend you my mountain bike, and you can ride all the way up through the woods."




Quickly I began to mutter something about it being too much trouble, but Keith saw right through that and laughed."No it's not, we ride the same size bike. Lower the saddle and off you go."




Damn. Quick, say something to make this sound like a bad idea, I thought. But I could come up with nothing, other than the truth - that I feared the mountain bike. That I would rather sit through a root canal than have to ride one 6 miles up a winding forest path with 1,500 feet of climbing, and then - gulp! - back down.








But I said none of these things. And two days later I found this propped against the side of the house when I came home.




So... Oh my God, I don't know where to start. Beefy aluminum frame, suspension fork, 2" knobby tires, narrow straight handlebars, disc brakes, and a drivetrain with a triple crankset and thumb shifters. The bike is a Carrera Kraken- an inhouse brand of the UK department store Halfords. However, this is not a "department store bike," as the concept is known in the US. According to locals in the know, Halfords actually sells very decent quality budget road and mountain bikes. Keith's bike is a good few years old and everything is a little rusty - though it all works fine.







The bike is a Small (16" frame with a 56mm virtual top tube) and the fit feels pretty good to me. I wouldn't mind it if the handlebars were a tad lower, but what do I know about mountain bike sizing (how upright are you supposed to be?).



What took the most getting used to was the super-high bottom bracket.I kept playing around with the saddle height and it took me a while to set it properly; I couldn't believe how high I had to make it in order to get good leg extension. Being on the bike felt a little strange at first as well - so high off the ground! The disc brakes are insanely grippy, especially the front, but modulating them became intuitive with some practice.Slowly, the fear began to turn to curiosity.





I spent an easy afternoon with the bike, just trying to get to know it and get comfortable with the idea of riding it. There is a back road with some steep pitches just outside my door, as well as woodsy stretches of dirt, gravel and grass I could try. Skeptical that on a bike this beastly-looking I could handle the long steep climb up to the lake, one thing I wanted to do was see how it went uphill. As it turned out, not bad - even on pavement, with those knobby tires. The gearing is low enough to climb a fairly steep pitch seated, so I don't have to worry about stalling out. Standing up on the pedals feels different than on a roadbike - like I have to heave myself forward more forcefully to get my butt off the saddle - but once I got used to it, it was fine. And descending felt much, much nicer and less scary than I anticipated - the bike has an easy, tame feel to it when going around bends.



So... I think I am ready to try riding this thing to the lake and back. The path through the woods is winding dirt for the first part (with roots and things, but nothing too bad), then loose rough chunky gravel for the final stretch. There is nothing technical there, so if I can take 6 miles of straight climbing on a mountain bike and then not get scared and do anything stupid on the descent, I should be fine. And look: I will be using this bike for transportation to the lake, not for "mountain biking" as such, so please don't think this is the beginning of an interest in mountain bikes. I mean, that would be crazy.

Big and Little

Our smallest horse, Stormy, who is a bit to big to be a true Miniture Horse, and our biggest horse, Sunny, is isn't really all that big compared to BIG horses. And our Border Collie, Tuffee

Keeping Your Bicycle Saddle Dry

After the previous post, I’ve had some inquiries about the polka dot saddle cover pictured on my bike. It is from Basil and yes, it is waterproof. But let me backtrack and use this opportunity to discuss saddle covers more generally.



If your bike is equipped with a leather saddle and you tend to leave it outdoors, a saddle cover is essential. Without it, the leather will sag prematurely after getting wet – especially if you ride the bike without letting it dry first. But even many synthetic saddles, if left in the rain long enough, can get soggy – resulting in a wet butt on the ride home. Saddle covers are generally inexpensive and easy to carry around, taking up little room at the bottom of a pannier and saddlebag. If you are wondering which to get, here are some factors to consider.



Waterproofness

This may seem like an obvious one. However saddle covers are not always waterproof. Some are designed to protect the saddle from fading in the sun, or to provide a bit of extra cushioning, but have no water repellant qualities. Others are water resistant, but are not intended for all-day or overnight use. Read the product description to determine whether the level of waterproofness is what you need, and ask the manufacturer if this information is missing.



Shape and size

Bicycle saddles come in different shapes and sizes, as do saddle covers. A cover designed for a narrow road bike saddle may not fit over a wide city bike saddle, and vise versa. Some covers are designed with more stretch than others and are more versatile, but overall it's a good idea to check dimensions.



Coverage

Some covers are designed to stretch over the top of the saddle only, whereas others are designed to also cover the underside. The latter style is useful when you are riding the bike on wet roads, especially if your bike does not have fenders.



Surface Texture

If a saddle cover has a slick surface texture, it can feel slippery to sit on. If you want a saddle cover that you can keep on when you ride the bike, look for a matte or textured surface.






Sources for Saddle Covers

If you purchase a Brooks leather saddle, a cover is usually included (not sure whether it is the same cover they sell individually - possibly). However, these covers are not fully waterproof and will not fit all saddle shapes.




On my roadbike, I use an excellent cover that Rivendell used to sell, but no longer does. They've now replaced it with this Aardvark cover, which they describe as equally waterproof and designed to fit a similar range of saddle shapes. I have not tried it, but hear that others are satisfied. They also sell the fancierRandi Jo coverthat offers extra coverage and is available in road and city sizes.




On my city bikes I recently started using the Basil Katharina saddle cover (the polka dotted one in the pictures), which the US Basil rep sent me to demo. I know that a number of US bike shops sell these covers in person (try Clevercycles in Portland, Houndstooth Road in Atlanta, Dutch Bike in Seattle and Rolling Orange in NYC) but online they are not always easy to locate. If you do manage to find one (either the Katherina or the Elements series), they are inexpensive, completely waterproof, and available in a variety of patterns. The shape is just right for wide, thick city bike saddles, including those with heavy springs.




I am sure there are other quality sources, and your suggestions are welcome.






Alternatives to Saddle Covers

In a pinch, a decent plastic bag makes for a fine saddle cover. I do this all the time when I forget my real cover at home or am riding a borrowed bike. The trick is towrap and tie the bag securely, so that the wind does not blow it away. Granted, sitting on a bag-wrapped saddle is sub-optimal (slippery), but it is better than nothing.




A more elegant method for those who do not want to buy a cover, is to use a shower cap. Usually they hold in place, but some choose to attach velcro straps for extra security. And of course, if you are the crafty type, you can also make your own cover from scratch using waterproof fabric and elastic.




Well, I think that pretty much covers it. Lots of options for keeping your saddle dry, for happy riding in wet weather.

Thompson Falls, Cascade River

Above: Thompson Falls



A couple of days ago we visited Thompson Falls on the Cascade River, a waterfall I had never heard of until recently. It turned out to be a gem of a waterfall, with seemingly limitless photo possibilities. The main channel of the river is fantastic as it tumbles over the falls, but I actually had more fun photographing these little side falls on the west bank of the river. The photo belowshows two drops out of what is actually a 3-drop series of falls. The upper two falls were what really caught my eye, though, especially with these beautiful cedar branches framing the right side of the photo. I can't wait to go back and spend more time at these falls!



Below: Double Waterfall and Cedar, Cascade River

Mule Deer

We went to Jemez Mountains about a week ago and saw 3 mule deer. You can tell they are mule deer due to the size of their ears. This one was really close and I got a decent photo of her. I was suprised it came out this good as it was almost dark when I took it.

Another Pony

When Star was 3 I came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to get very big. She is big enough, and strong enough for me to ride, but not the most trust worthy horse. And at the same time the horse next to her at the stable where I was boarding her came up for sale. After trying him a few times I knew I had to have him, just as I had been determined to have Star when I first saw her. My new horse, and I say horse lightly as he isn't much bigger than Star, is a black Morgan gelding. At that time he was 9 and is about 14 now. BlackJack is a great riding horse. He was well trained when I got him. He is just big enough to be a horse, 14 1/2 hands, but is short enough that I can get on him. He is smart. He always knows what you want and he is ready to go. Unlike Star who is lazy. Jack isn't a solid black horse, he has brown around his muzzle and on his flanks, as well as a white star on his face too. Being a Morgan he is very strong. He is usually very well mannered with people but can be a bully with the other horses. He wants to be the boss with his own kind. He and Star are totally attached to each other now, especially Star who will holler and through a fit when separated from Jack. Jack is my trail horse. He doesn't care much for riding around in circles in the pens but loves to get out and explore our desert trails. I am so glad I finally have a home where I can ride my horse, that I had wanted so long, right out my gate and down the road.

Recycle that old Computer - America Recycles Day

In my post Sticker Shock, I mentioned that I had an old laptop that no longer works and I didn't know what to do with it. Well, in a comment on that post, Janice Brown, at Cow Hampshire, linked to an article about Staples and their computer recycle program.

Since I was going to Staples to purchase my new digital camera, I took the old laptop along. I asked the sales clerk who was helping me if they accepted computers for recycling and he responded in the affirmative. When it came time to check out I made a quick trip to the car and got the laptop. The young man was very nice and courteous but didn't know how to handle the recycling charge. Neither did the other cashier. They called the manager. He said there was a code they had to use. It wasn't at any of the registers so he had to go into the back office to get it. In the meantime, I filled out the paperwork identifying what was being turned in and signing my name stating that I understood that they were promising that the equipment would not be resold or used in any other way, that it was really going to be recycled.

What should have been a less than five minute process ended up taking about 20 minutes. Of course, the sales clerk apologized saying it was the first time anyone had actually recycled anything at their store. I wasn't in a hurry or anything so it was no big deal. But if you plan on recycling any electronic stuff, I'd suggest calling ahead to the store to let them know.

This morning, while on the Staples website checking the status of my camera shipment, I did a search for "recycle computers" but nothing came up. In their page on Media Information they have a News Release titled Fewer Than One in Four Americans Recycle Their Technology Waste that provides additional information on the program and what they will accept.

Did you know that Thursday, November 15th, is America Recycles Day? The Material Recovery Center at Columbia City (in Whitley County, Indiana) has a Saturday in November set aside for turning in hazardous materials, batteries, tires, appliances, etc. that they don't normally accept. Fort Wayne also does this. There is a fee involved with these things, but it is minimal. I'm not sure if they accept electronic equipment such as computers, printers, and scanners though. It might be worth checking your local recycling center, especially if you have multiple items (CPU, Monitor, Printer, etc.) as there is a $10 fee at Staples for each item. There is no charge for cell phones, pagers, digital cameras, mice, or keyboards.

It cost $10 to rid myself of a piece of junk, but I feel good about having done so. It got it out of my closet and hopefully some of the precious metals can be retrieved for other uses. As Janice suggested, I opened the laptop, found the hard drive and gave it more than a few good whacks. After putting the cover back on, the insides rattled a bit, but that shouldn't take away any of it's recycling value ;-)

As a side note, I purchased my new digital camera. A Sony Cyber-shot H7. 8.1 megapixal and 15x zoom. The only one they had in-store was the display model. I'm prejudiced against display models so opted for having it shipped to me. It is supposed to arrive tomorrow (Tuesday 11/13). I just want to be able to check it out for a few days before my trip to Missouri. I'm really looking forward to that 15x zoom. Awesome! Flag image from the America Recycles Day website.

Free Rice

Increase your vocabulary and donate Free Rice at the same time.

Check out their FAQ to learn how it works.

Hat tip to Only Crook In Town (a non-genealogy blog with an occasional post on genealogy) for the link.

William P. Wise and Sophia Dunfee

William Pythagrus Wise, my Great-Great Grandfather, was the oldest child of seven children born to Jacob and Malissa Ann (Stem) Wise. According to my grandmother's notes, they were living in Miami County, Indiana on January 1, 1852 when William was born. William grew up on the family farm in the northern part of Thorncreek Township, Whitley County, Indiana near the Noble County line and near Malissa's parents, Conrad and Indiana (Sisley) Stem.

On October 5, 1864 Jacob Wise was drafted into the Army, just a little over a month after his son Sylvester (not quite two years old) had died and two weeks before the birth of his daughter Rosilla. William had probably been responsible for doing chores around the farm prior to his father being drafted, and I can imagine the talk that his father gave to him before departing. After all, he was the oldest child and his mother would be giving birth again soon, not to mention the death of little Sylvester.

A little over seven months later, on May 17, 1865 Jacob died of chronic diarrhea at an army hospital in Nashville, Tennessee. So it was that William became the "man of the house" when he was a little over 13 years old. His mother would remarry, but not until 1876, when the children were older.

On October 9, 1873 William P. Wise was married to Sophia Elizabeth Dunfee. She was the daughter of Catherine Jones and William Hamilton Dunfee and was born September 18, 1850 in Columbia City, Whitley County, Indiana. The notice of their marriage appeared in the Whitley County Commercial on October 16th. "Married. Wise-Dunfee. By the Rev. John Miller, on Oct. 9th, 1873, William Wise, of Thorncreek, and Miss Sophia Dunfee, of Columbia City."

They soon purchased a farm in Troy Township, north of Columbia City and a few miles west of his mother's farm. This is where they would live out their lives and raise a family of four children.

• Harry H. Wise was born August 10, 1874. He would move to Lorain County, Ohio in the late 1890s, living near his aunt, Rosilla Wise Zinsmeister, and her family. He married Emma Klieman and they had four children.
• Maude Catherine Wise was born December 9, 1877. Maude is my Great-Grandmother. She married Charles Romain Brubaker on February 7, 1897 and they had four children.
• Maurice James Wise, twin brother of Maude, was born December 9, 1877. Maurice never married. He owned and ran a restaurant in Sturgis, Michigan and was killed in an auto-truck accident in July 1943.
• Hazlette Ann Wise was born October 10, 1885. She married Harlo Asher Burns on October 10, 1911. They lived on a farm in Troy Township, Whitley County and had two children.

Harry, Sophia, Maude, William, and Maurice. Hazlette, seated in front.
Sophia Dunfee Wise died on December 6, 1916; her obituary was published in the Columbia City Post on December 8, 1916:

Mrs. William Wise, of Troy township passed away Wednesday at 1:30 o'clock from blood clots on the brain and paralysis. She has been confined to her bed for the past two weeks and although her condition varied at times, she seemingly grew weaker and the end was not altogether unexpected by members of the family who were familiar with the ailments of the patient.

Mrs. Wise was a daughter of William and Catherine Dunfee and was born in this city September 18, 1850; she being aged 66 years, 2 months and 18 days at her death. She spent her childhood days in this city and received her education here. On October 9, 1873, she was united in marriage to William Wise, who survives. To this union four children were born; Harry Wise of Lorane, Ohio; Morris J. Wise, of Elkhart; Mrs. Maude Brubaker, of North Webster, and Mrs. Harlow Burns, of Troy township.

Mr. and Mrs. Wise took up their residence on a farm northwest of this city following their marriage and have resided there ever since. Mr. Wise was a successful farmer and was greatly assisted by his devoted wife who was constantly caring for her children and their home. She was loved and respected by her many friends. Mrs. Wise was a member of the Thorncreek township Christian church and was a faithful worker in the cause of the Master.

Besides her husband and children, she is survived by one brother, William Dunfee, of Columbia township, and one sister, Miss Rebecca Dunfee, of Troy township.

William would live for nearly 20 more years, passing away on October 12, 1935. His obituary was published in the Columbia City Post two days later:

William P. Wise, past 83 years old, well-known Whitley county farmer, died Saturday night at 8:45 o'clock at the home of his daughter, Mrs. Harlo Burns, in Troy Township. He had been in declining health for the past year but for the past two weeks his condition, due to a complication of diseases, had grown steadily worse until death ensued.

Born in Allen county on January 1, 1852, William P. Wise was a son of Jacob and Malissa Stemm Wise, and had reached the age of 83 years, 9 months and 11 days. He resided all his life except one year in Whitley county, for when but a year old his parents brought him to Thorncreek township where he grew to manhood.

On October 7, 1873, William P. Wise was united in marriage to Sophia Dunfee, who preceded him in death in 1916. Since her death Mr. Wise made his home with his daughter in north Troy township. In addition to Mrs. Wise, the deceased was preceded in death by two brothers and three sisters.

Surviving are two sons and two daughters, namely, Harry H. of Lorain, Ohio; Maurice, formerly of Elkhart and now of Troy township, who is a twin brother of Mrs. Joseph Yontz, of Columbia City, and Mrs. Harlo Burns. Two sisters; Mrs. David Anspaugh, of Ray, Ind., and Mrs. Rosie Zintz, of Lorain, Ohio, eight grand children and sixteen great-grandchildren also survive Mr. Wise.

Early in life Mr. Wise united with the Thorncreek Christian church east of Cresco and though this church has been long since abandoned he never changed his membership. William P. Wise was a farmer by occupation all his life and was regarded as an upright and honest Christian character and a fair dealer with all his neighbors, each of whom characterized Mr. Wise as one of the finest neighbors a person could have and one who never spoke anything but kind words of everyone with whom he was acquainted.

The body was brought to the DeMoney Funeral Home in Columbia City and was removed from there to the Harlo Burns home Sunday. Funeral services will be held Tuesday afternoon at 1:30 p.m. at the Burns home. Dr. E. C. Lindsay, of Goshen, will conduct the services and burial will be in Scott cemetery.

The notice of his funeral was published on October 16th in the Columbia City Post. My mother says she vaguely remembers attending the funeral; she would have been seven years old at the time. Her brother, Billy, was only five.

Funeral services were held Tuesday afternoon from the Harlo Burns home in Troy Township, for the late William Wise, Dr. E. C. Lindsay, of Goshen, officiating. Ray Estlick and Mrs. Fern Marker sang the hymns.

The pallbearers were Charles Yontz, William Brubaker, Charles Anspaugh, Victor Phend, William Anspaugh, and Charles Jacobs. The flower bearers were Patsy, Phyllis, Virginia and Billy Phend, great-grandchildren of Mr. Wise. Interment took place in the Scott cemetery.

Those attending the funeral rites from a distance were Mr. and Mrs. Harry Wise, Lorain, Ohio; Mrs. Rosa Zintsmeister and daughter, Lorain, Ohio; Mr. and Mrs. David Anspaugh, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Anspaugh and Mr. and Mrs. William Anspaugh, Ray, Ind., Mr. and Mrs. William Brubaker, Elkhart.

Wise Family - Index to Posts

Honey, We Meet Again

When a bicycle leaves you at a loss for words, is that a good thing? With hundreds of miles now on this Honey Cyclocross demo bike, I am leaning toward yes. Because I'm not exactly itching to give it back.






Last summer I was briefly without a suitable bike for dirt and gravel. When a local unpaved ride came around, a buddy lent me her Honey Cyclocross racing bike. I wrote about that bike here, then rode the Kearsarge Klassic on it successfully. And that should have been that. But months later, even as I happily rode my own bike, memories of that CX Honey kept intruding. In my first impressions write-up I described how "different" its handling felt from anything I'd tried before. As a wannabebicycle designer, this gnawed at me. What was it about that bike?






Enter geographical luck of the draw. Honey Bikes are local to me, theproject of Rob Vandermark whom I know through the Ride Studio Cafe bicycle shop andSeven Cycles. Last Fall, we had occasion to talk about the cyclocross bike I'd tried, and I struggled to articulate why I found its handling so "different."


At this time, a batch of Honey demo bikes was being prepared for the Ride Studio Cafe, and one of them was set up for me. The idea was along-term test ride and review:I would ride the bike until it became familiar, allowing me to articulate what I found so striking about its handling.In particular, we discussed how appropriate a bike like it might be for long unpaved rides, and how it compared to the 650B low trail model I was comfortable with.





The bike arrived just as a series of snow storms hit the Northeast, which made for some appropriate pictures of the "winter lilac" colour.



I should note here that the bicycle reviewed here is completely stock in everything from size and geometry to component group and finish. Honey bikes are not custom, but made-to-order stock bikes, available in a variety of sizes and option packages. This production method allows them to keep prices in the $2,400-4,000 range for complete bikes, and to offer quick turn-around. The bicycles are steel, with carbon fiber forks (though steel forks are also available). Models include road, utility, mixed terrain, mountain, cyclocross and more. All frames are handmade in the USA, the current series produced by Seven Cycles in Watertown, MA.








Honey bikes are offered in two types of finishes. The standard finishesare tone-on-tone, and so subtle that the logos and other markings are virtually invisible unless you stand inches from the bike or intentionally bump up the contrast in pictures to draw them out.For those who prefer a finish with visible logos, Honey also makes"team" finishes, where the panels and lettering contrast the main colour.








Like the bike I had borrowed last summer, this is a stock 52.5cm Honey Cyclocross race frame (they also have a utility cross model, but this is not it). The sizing figures on Honey bikes refer to the virtual top tube length. Because this bike was set up for me from the get-go, it fit me much better than the one I rode previously. The handlebar height and width, the stem length, and the saddle position were configured with my fit in mind. The brakes were routed right=front, the way I set up my own. When I got on the bike, everything immediately felt natural, and there is a lot to be said for this. With roadbike test rides, fit really matters.






The Honey was set up with a SRAM Rival group and TRP mini-v brakes. The brakes work excellently (more on that here), which was a great relief from previous experiences with cantis. And while I have a Campagnolo setup on my own bikes, I am also comfortable with SRAM levers and have no problem switching back and forth between the two systems.






As I see it, going with SRAM on a bicycle like this has several benefits. The main one, is that SRAM now makes it possible to use low gears with a road drivetrain and modern integrated shifters. Their new wifli system, despite the silly name, is extremely useful in that it allows for a 12-32t cassette. Paired with a 50/34t crankset, that almost gives you a 1:1 low gear, without having to do anything unconventional to the drivetrain. Unofficially, I am told that the wifli derailleur will also handle a 34t cog from a mountain or touring cassette, but I wanted to ride the bike with everything stock before trying out-of-spec configurations. As is, the SRAM Rival drivetrain has been functioning flawlessly ...which brings me to the other benefit - the value. While I love the feel of Campagnolo Chorus, I've been disappointed with their lower-end groups in the past couple of years. At the lower to mid range, I have to admit that SRAM groups feel nicer. In particular, I find Rival to be the sweet spot as far as cost to performance ratio.






The bike is fitted with Mavic Ksyrium Elite wheels and Continental Cyclocross Speed tires, 700Cx35mm. The tires were chosen for their versatility: The tread can handle most unpaved terrain, without slowing the bike down too much on pavement. I have found this useful.Off pavement, I feel comfortable with these tires on dirt, gravel, reasonably shallow sand and not-too-thick mud. On pavement, I do find them slower than slick road tires, but it's not too bad and I don't mind working a little harder on paved sections. These tires are also great in the rain and light snow. In bad weather, I find myself reaching for this bike.




Speaking of snow... Though I did not ride a lot over this past winter, the little riding I did was mostly on the Honey. Partly this was due to the tires: They handled unexpected patches of ice and snow on the road better than the tires on my own bikes. But partly it was also the handling. I will get more into this later, but when I got the demo Honey, fitted to my riding position, my first impression was that it felt like a toy - I was compelled to try stuff on it that I had not done on other bikes - like jumping over things and riding in snow. So I did, until eventually I crashed into a tree riding in the woods. My leg and hip were covered in bruises that took weeks to heal, but luckily the bike was fine!






Spring took a long time arriving this year. But finally by mid-March I started putting in some proper miles. As a way of ensuring I get used to the Honey's handling, for some time I rode it exclusively: Group rides, solo rides, paved rides, dirt rides, short rides, long rides - for 3 weeks straight it was all Honey, all the time. After that, I began riding my own bikes again (skinny tire road and fat tire dirt), alternating between the Honey and them.




For some time, I marveled at the handling every time I got on this bicycle. I am going to use experiential terms here. One term that comes to mind is "hyper hip-steerable." Maybe even "rear wheel drive." That is, the bike struck me as overly sensitive to movement at the hips, to the point that it almost felt like the front end was controlled from the back. For instance, let's say I was behind a rider and wanted to pass them. On this bike, I discovered a maneuver, where I could flick my hips ever so slightly while accelerating and "slingshot" past the rider in front of me in a tight, perfectly controlled arc. Maybe that sounds crazy, or maybe this is something everyone but me has been doing all along, I can never tell. In any case, it's easy and intuitive to do on this bike.




But unless I intentionally fling it sideways, the bike has a "tracks straight" feel to it at all speeds. Even when walking it I can feel this: Using the gentlest touch, I can easily steer it by the back of the saddle and the front won't turn or flop to the side. Riding it at excruciatingly slow speeds is easy as well; it really "wants to stay upright" and go straight.






Hopping over bumps, rocks and roots is unusually easy. The first time it happened, I simply saw a huge root in front of me, and before I knew it my front wheel was sailing over it and landing on the other side. I was not conscious of having pulled up on the handlebars. I can now hop over objects on other bikes too, but it takes more effort.




On descents, initially I found that I could not easily turn and maneuver this bike using the same approach as on others I've ridden. But I quickly learned that changing my balance over the saddle made it controllable in these situations. I still do not understand this part entirely, but my subjective feel is that I almost hang off the bike to the side in order to steer it on turns. Possibly, this is my way of compensating for not being able to lean the bike itself sufficiently.




All the characteristics described become less noticeable the more I ride the bike. But if I go even as much as a week without riding it, I immediately notice them again when switching from my own bicycles. It's not a matter of better or worse, but just a "Hey, this is different!" kind of feeling every time.






The aesthetics of the Honey Cyclocross bike are modern and sporty: thick tubes, unabashedly sloping top tube, straight fork. This look is growing on me - or maybe a more accurate way to put it would be "I appreciate it for what it is." I do love the winter lilac finish.The welds are very smooth, more or less invisible under the paint. And the overall look has a unity and harmony to it that makes sense to me visually.




The tubing is oversized and thin-walled. Pinging it with my fingernail, there is a distinct hollow ring. Riding the bike, it feels extremely stiff - though not in a disagreeable way. It feels light in motion, fast to accelerate, ever-ready and ever-awake. Despite the stiffness, the ride is not harsh. The jury is still out on the relationship between flex and responsiveness to pedaling effort, and I won't attempt to make any connection here. I will only say that I enjoy how stiff this bike feels.




I intentionally did not look at the geometry in advance, so as not to bias my impressions. When I did have a look later, I did not see anything too unusual. Longer chainstays and less bottom bracket drop than typical with road geometry; slightly higher trail. None of it seemed sufficiently dramatic to explain my strong reaction to the bike. Maybe it's one of those "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts" things. There is, after all, a lot I don't understand about bicycle design.






The one word I would use to describe the Honey Cyclocross bike is "fun." As in exciting, playful, toy-like. This bike really moves, and under a more skillful rider than me I am sure it would move even better. While I am obviously not evaluating it in that context, I can see how a bike like this would make a good choice for racing cyclocross.




As far as unpaved brevets and such, I think the CX Honey could work nicely for those who want a lightweight, modern, racy bike with wide 700C tires. Although designed for short races, to me it feels great over 100K distances. The main thing, is that after hours in the saddle I find it delightfully non-fatiguing.




Not being a utility bike; this particular Honey model is not built for racks or carrying heavy loads. Riding it with a full, wide Carradice-style saddlebag in the rear, I can feel the weight (or drag - not sure which). With a smaller bag that tucks under the saddle (like the Dill Pickle shown here) this is considerably less pronounced. I have not tried a bag on the front - though I've now been lent an Ortlieb system to experiment with, and will report back.






Riding this bike on dirt and gravel, I am as fast as I'm capable of being,and reasonably confident riding over most types of terrain I encounter. On pavement, I am slower on the Honey than on my skinny-tire roadbike. And compared to my low trail 650Bx42mm all-steel bike, the Honey is on average about the same both on pavement and dirt. One aspect where they differ, is if I try to seriously push the speed beyond my comfort zone - for instance, in order to keep up with faster riders. When doing this, I can push both bikes pretty hard, but on the Honey I feel less tired afterward. The 5lb difference in the weight of the bikes could account for this, as could the difference in frame and fork materials. On the other hand, when all is said and done I prefer my own bike's front-end handling. It is simply more intuitive to me, and on challenging terrain with twists and turns I am generally more relaxed and precise on it for that reason. Nonetheless, I appreciate the Honey's handling as well. I especially enjoy switching between the bikes and experiencing the difference, adapting to one then another.




It fascinates me to no end how two bikes can excel at the same task, yet ride and feel so differently.I will elaborate on this shortly, but recently I began working with Rob Vandermark on a special project. My experience with the CX Honey - in conjunction with my own bike - has been particularly educational in that context.




With unpaved riding increasingly popular, it's exciting to have choices for go-fast bikes with fat tires. The Honey Cyclocross bike is certainly worth considering - fast, fun, made in Massachusetts, and reasonably priced with lots of sizing options. It's been a pleasure getting to know this bicycle, improving my handling skills and expanding my horizons in the process.