It's Not About the Weather

While we wait for Hurricane Sandy to arrive, I am still finding sand caked on my bike from an earlier rainy, muddy ride. It seems that every time I have ridden this bike so far, it has rained. Of course today, on my inaugural ride with fenders, it is sunny and dry. A friend consoles me by reminding me of the approaching hurricane. Surely I will have the opportunity to test the fenders then. I take the idea seriously and begin to mentally map out a route on some local trails, before realising how utterly insane that is. When the townsfolk are stocking up on canned goods and flashlight batteries, I should probably stay indoors.




With the season marching on toward starker days, I find myself thinking of weather.As cyclists we all tend to have an idea of the "perfect weather" for riding. For some it's the height of summer. For others it's that elusive "60 degrees and sunny, with a mild breeze." A few riders I know prefer cooler temperatures, and some even claim to enjoy rain. I think for me, the biggest revelation has been that, when push comes to shove, I can feel good in almost any weather.






After a recent post describing a rainy ride on dirt roads, a reader wrote:"It's in our nature to want to be comfortable and coddled, but you celebrate the joy of pushing yourself through rain and mud." I felt guilty reading this, because honestly I don't feel as if I am overcoming discomfort or pushing myself when I ride in those kinds of conditions. And I think that is the key to my being able to do it. The secret is to find a way of being comfortable, to just go with it and appreciate the situation for what it is, rather than spending energy on trying to overcome it. Maybe this is just a different way of looking at the same thing, but to me it makes a big difference. Rather than pushing through discomfort, I extract comfort.




Part of it is of course practical considerations. Figuring out how to dress, eat and drink in different conditions. Over the summer I stumbled upon some tricks that enabled me to ride in heat in humidity like I'd never managed to do before. And last winter, I discovered that riding in sub-20 degree temperatures was also very doable with the help of strategic layering. But equally important is the attitude. We have to be curious, interested. We have to want the experience.




What is my idea of perfect riding weather... Probably high 40s to low 50s, with heavily overcast skies. I feel most alive then; the raw energy in the air makes me want to ride faster, further. But in the end, it's not about the weather, but about finding comfort in whatever is thrown at me, about feeling coddled by the beauty of the surrounding landscape.

Tracing the Tangles

In theory, cycling on Cape Ann - with itsmiles of rocky beaches and its quaint villages - should be idyllic. In practice, it is all main roads, devoid of shade and dense with traffic, along a largely hypothetical coastline. The water views are obscured by developments and the sea is strangely scentless much of the time. Add to that the crater-sized potholes, the unyielding drivers, and the mosquitos immune to insect repellant - and frankly I don't find it so idyllic at all.



But stubbornly I persist: the same old 45 rolling miles, from Rockport to Ipswich and back. There is exactly one stretch of backroad along my route, and I anticipate it as one might anticipate a tart fruity filling in an otherwise bland pie.



There is only one stretch of backroad, but this stretch has a little of everything: climbing, quiet, overhanging trees, wooden bridges over saltwater marshes. And the part I look forward to most are the twists. The narrow road loops abruptly to the left, then to the right, then to the left again, then - who knows. It twists haphazardly - not so much a series of hairpins, as a mess of tangles.



As a young girl I once found a stray length of golden chain in my grandmother's garden.It was thin and delicate, the kind of chain meant to be worn with a pendant. But now it was dirty and torn and missing a clasp - not really of use to anyone.I remember standing there and spilling it back and forth from one hand to the other, fascinated by the curves and tangles it made each time it settled on my palm. I would trace the tangles with my eyes and it was an act of meditation.



This memory comes out of nowhere as I now trace the twists of the road on my bike. Or rather, it is the bike that traces them. I merely hang on and take it all in, savoring the experience. The bike leans dramatically left, then right, then left, then ...who knows. And I relax and lose myself in the meditative feel of it, my hands keeping clear of the brakes. I can't tell you how I finally learned to corner. It just happened one day. It emerged from a tangle of experiences, memories, emotions.

Dead Trees

Here is a shot of two of the cottonwood trees that were killed by the fire but haven't been carved into figures yet. The sandhill crane on it's tree trunk can be seen in front. If you look close you can see Coors Blvd behind the park with the housing develpment that is to the west of Coors Blvd. The parking lot for the park can also be seen along with a distant view of the eagle.

Cats in a Box

Last week we bought a new vacuum cleaner and the cats have had fun with the box. First Cassie crawled in the box and peaked out to see if anyone was watching her.



Then Murphy came and peaked in at her to see what she was doing.



Then Twinky came to see if Cassie was all right in that big box.



Twinky tried to get Cassie out like Murphy had done.(Murphy is solid black, and Twinky is black with white feet. Cassie is gray with white feet.)



Twinky got Cassie to come out so Cassie told Twinky to get in.



Twinky crawled in and peaked out to see if the other cats were watching her.



Cassie was watching and she thought Oh, good, I got Twinky now. and she stood on top of the box so Twinky couldn't get out.







And Wiley just laid near by and watched all the younger cats and the oldest one, (Murphy) playing with the box. Wiley decided he was to good to be playing with a box.

Fire Tower Star Trails

Here is a 43 minute exposure of the night sky taken last night, May 18, . There was supposedly a 40% chance of minor geomagnetic storms last night, so we went out to watch for the northern lights. We never saw any northern lights, but the stargazing was amazing. There also was a line of thunderstorms moving across Canada about 20 miles north of where we were. Since we were on top of a large hill with a good panoramic view, we were able to watch the lightning flash on the horizon while the sky directly above us was flooded with stars. No northern lights, but still a beautiful night!



(P.S. The lightning was all to the north, and this photo was taken looking to the west, which is why you cannot see any of the lightning in this photo).

Achielle Oma: Handmade in Belgium

When I learned about Achielle Bicycles from a Belgian friend three years ago, I immediately wanted one - so much so that I contacted the manufacturer and considered buying one direct when I learned there was no American distributor. However shipping a single bike was expensive, and so Achielle did not end up being my first transportaion bicycle. But I remained interested in the manufacturer. Eventually they gained US distribution, but still I never heard of any bike shop that sold them. It was therefore entirely unexpected when I literally bumped into a wine-coloured Achielle Oma at Hudson Urban Bicycles in New York last week. I did not know they sold them, but there it was - the elusive bicycle I'd been admiring from afar all this time, just standing there and waiting for me to try it.




There was also a grayish-cream one in stock, being prepared for theNew Amsterdam Fashion Show.





The owner of HUB had no idea who I was, but knew I had no intention of buying the bike and just wanted to write about it on some blog.The shop was hectic, with everyone running around getting ready for the New Amsterdam Show, and it was almost closing time. Still, he got the bicycle ready for me and was very helpful - much appreciated. Many thanks also to Nona Varnado, who introduced me to HUB and vouched that I was not a bicycle thief. I test rode the Achielle and just barely managed to snap some pictures before the light faded.






So what makes Achielle bicycles such a big deal? Well, it is this: As far as I know they are the only production Dutch bikes that are still handmade locally from the frame up. Even the tubing is produced locally, according to the manufacturer. Does local production mean a bike is better made than had it been outsourced to the Far East? Not necessarily. Quality depends on skill, method and tools, not on a factory's location. But there is something to be said for bicycles that are produced 100% in-house, from frame to paint to assembly. Pashley does it in the UK with English Roadsters and Achielle does it on the continent with Dutch bikes. They are part of the special remaining few and they keep local manufacturing traditions alive.




Achielle has been making bicycles in the Flemish region of Belgium since 1946 and you can read a summary of their history here. The paint is by Dija-Oostcolor - Achielle's parent company. Because pretty much every aspect of production and assembly takes place in-house, a great deal of customisation is possible. But plenty of stock production models are available as well.





The model I rode is the Craighton Pick-Up Oma -a steel loop frame with 28" wheels, body colour fenders, chainguard and large front carrier. This bike was a 57cm frame, 3-speed with coaster brake only, fitted with cream tires, bottle dynamo lighting, double-legged kickstand, leather saddle and grips, and large wicker basket in front.






The Achielle Oma frame has all the features I value when it comes to craftsmanship. It is fully lugged, including the seat cluster, fork crown and even the loop connector. It also has the bolted rear triangle and the track ends in the rear that I prefer on a bike of this style. The frame is utilitarian and the lugwork is simple, there are no flourishes. But everything that I like to be there is there, and the quality of the finish looked excellent, with precise joints and no sloppiness or bulges anywhere along the frame.






On a bicycle like this, I actually prefer to have a modern bottle dynamo to a hub generator, and Achielle has the option of a braze-on "arm" on the fork for this purpose. Both the bottle and the headlight attach there, making it possible to use a front carrier system without obscuring the headlight.






The classically high and swept back Dutch handlebars are near-identical to the set-up on my formerly owned 90s Gazelle.





Although this particular model has a one-sided chainguard and not a full chaincase, models with full chaincases are available also. A tail light is mysteriously absent here, but it is pictured on the Achielle website.




I rode the Oma briefly along the quiet streets of the West Village. It was exceptionally smooth and, by Dutch bike standards, fast. I did not feel that the weight of the front carrier and basket (with my jacket and camera inside) affected handling. However, the lack of front brake was a problem for me and kept me from testing the bike's speed limits to the extent I would have liked. For those considering the bike, a front caliper can be easily retro-fitted and there are options for a hub brake as well, but obviously this could not be done in the short amount of time I spent with the bike. I would love to do a long-term review of this bicycle with better pictures and more nuanced observations.






The Achielle Oma is a classic Dutch bike in every respect, including weight savings not being a priority. It was funny to watch the model who posed with the bicycle at the New Amsterdam Bike Fashion Show "hand" the Achielle to the assistant whose job was to carry it off stage. This big-boned beauty can weigh upward of 45lb, depending on size and what accessories it is fitted with.Like all Dutch bikes, the Achielle Oma was designed to be stored outdoors or in sheds, not carried. And it is certainly durable enough for outdoor storage, as well as suitable as a winter bike.






Priced at $1,450 for the model shown, the Achielle is not inexpensive. But it is handmade in Belgium from scratch, it looks well-constructed and it handles well. The price simply reflects how much it costs to do that, with only modest profits being made by the manufacturer, distributor and retailer. For me, it is worth it. For others, maybe not. It is good to have options. Were I in the market for a Dutch bike today, Achielle would be the one.

Cymbidium Orchid

Cymbidium Orchid, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

I saw this cymbidium orchid at a retreat back in May. The retreat grounds were filled with all sorts of colorful flowers, especially California-native wildflowers.