Cold Snap

Its been VERY cold for the past week, with night-time lows ranging from 20 to 30 below zero, and daytime highs of about -5 degrees. Taken mid-afternoon on one of those cold days, I thought this shot was pretty indicative of the cold weather. Shot in aperture priority at f22 to get the starburst effect on the sun.

Wild Roses

I saw lots of wild roses blooming along the road. I took this photo with a meadow and a mountain showing the distance that one can see while still in the mountains.

Location, Lock-ation...

The Co-Habitant started a new job this week, and with it a new commute. The trip is about the same distance as before, but his cycling ritual is much changed. Previously, he rode to work on hisfully loadedPashley Roadster, which he would lock up in the secure bicycle cage inside the building's parking garage. The new job's parking facilities are less secure, and it is in an area where he does not feel comfortable leaving hisPashleyon the street all day. So he will now be commuting on his oldMotobecaneroadbike,which he has stripped down to the bare bones. This is what Myles looks like in his normal role as touring bike. And above is the new pared-down version: No saddlebag, no twined water bottles, no pump under the top tube. A U-Lock and an extra long cable lock are wrapped around the seat cluster. The battery headlight on the fork is detachable, and the tail light will now be attached to the messenger bag he plans to carry.



The Co-Habitant's response to his new commute underscores the differences in our attitudes toward bicycle security. HisPashley is a comfortable, upright bicycle and if it were me, I would continue to ride it despite the change of location and the less than ideal parking situation. I would remove the Pashley's luggage, get a detachable pannier for the rear rack, use a U-lock plus long cable combination, lock it up outside and stop worrying about it. But then again, some would say that my own lock-up methods are scandalously lax, because I typically just use a cable lock. In short, the Co-Habitant and I are separate people and often our views on things differ. I respect that he does not want his "nice" bicycle to get stolen, but it just seems like such a shame to ride an aggressive roadbike (with clipless pedals!)to work and carry all his stuff in a messenger bag, when he owns the perfect commuter bike.

How much of a factor is the location of your job (or residence) in your choice of what bicycle to ride and in your lock-up methods?

One More Time :: The Piedras Blancas Elephant Seals

Wednesday, May 1st - - A drive along the central Coast of California is not complete without a stop to see the Elephant Seals at Piedras Blancas, a few miles north of San Simeon. It is just plain fun to watch them interacting, getting annoyed with each other, and playing. If it is a warm day and the breeze is coming in off the ocean you may not want to stay long (the smell can be a bit overwhelming at times) but it is definitely worth a visit.



Carol has some cute pictures of the seals that she took in April of this year. And here are some photos from my visit in April ... There was far more activity and movement amongst the seals today than on past visits.

Mt. Adams

Mt. Adams from the Southwest.












Carbo-loading at the Cold Springs base camp.

High camp at Lunch Counter.













Climbers on the South face.

A beautiful day on the summit.

The 2,000' glissade down to Lunch Counter.

Dani glissading.

Wipeout!

It's the End of the Highway!

This morning I was later than usual in leaving the campground. It had rained all night. I think there is something about a rainy morning that just makes you want to sleep in. It was 10 o'clock when I left Tok and it was drizzling. I felt sorry for these motorcycle riders who passed me. It can't be much fun riding in the rain.

To the west, the direction I was headed, the skies appeared to be clearing up a bit. To the east, gray, heavy clouds filled the sky. I hoped that Sue and Fred, who were a little more than a day behind, weren't getting a lot of rain.

About ten miles west of Tok I glimpsed this pond out the side window. It took my breath away! I had to turn around and go back. It was just a few feet off the highway. There was no other traffic at the time and I felt as though I was alone with the universe. It was so incredibly beautiful.

The blue skies lasted another twenty minutes down the highway, then the gray stuff made it's way back. A little rain now and then too.

And then, a little over two and a half hours after leaving Tok, there it was. On a curve going into Delta Junction - the “official” end of the Alaska Highway. 1422 miles (nearly 2500 miles since leaving Roosville, Montana). At times it seemed like an endless highway; going up, down, curving around, seldom straight, but tree-lined with glimpses of far off vistas.

I made it! And in a few weeks, I'll have to do it again (at least part of it).

I've been in touch with Sue and Fred along the way. They are a little over a day behind me but we'll meet up on Sunday at Denali National Park. It has been rather comforting, in an odd sort of way I suppose, to know that they were following me. Knowing that they would be along if something happened along the way.

Just before they left Louisiana, Sue started a blog - Notes from the Cabin....and beyond in which she has been chronicling their fall trip. Sue and Fred are what you might call “planners” which is a somewhat different approach to my method of travel. They have had better internet access than I have and Sue has written much more than I have too – and written quite well, I might add. You might enjoy reading what she has to say about their journey...

I'm currently at the very pleasant public library in Delta Junction, immensely enjoying their fast wifi. Shortly, I will be heading north towards Fairbanks. The Tanana Valley State Fair starts today in Fairbanks so I'm a little concerned with finding a place to stay and may stop just before getting to Fairbanks, making it one of the shorter drive-days. I considered taking the Denali Highway over to Denali but it is a gravel road and it has been raining so it can be a bit slippery. Besides I need to refill my cooler and cupboards as I've eaten nearly everything I brought! So toward Fairbanks I'll be heading.

Photographs taken August 6, ...

Understanding Hills

Like Eskimos are said to have many words for snow, it seems to me that cyclists ought to have many words for hills. After all, what does it really mean when terrain is described as "hilly?" There are the short city hills that only seem like hills when I ride my upright 3-speed, there are the long and annoying false flats, the rollers, the twisty hills, the mountain passes.My perception of hills also changes over time. Rides I considered hilly a year ago, I now think of as "mostly flat," in light of some other hills I've ridden. And then I get annoyed at myself, because I remember when others described those rides as "mostly flat" and I felt bad, because to me they certainly seemed hilly. Hills are a fluid concept.





The more hills I ride, the more I realise that steepness and duration alone are not what makes them easy or difficult for me. More than anything, the pattern of grade change can make all the difference between enjoying the challenge of the climb and hating it. On a hill with a consistent grade, I can "settle into" the climb, whereas a hill with erratic grade changes drains my energy much faster. In the picture here I am standing atop of a relatively mild, but much despised hill after just having climbed it. It's hard to explain why I hate this stretch of incline so much, but it messes with my head. Starting immediately after a traffic light near the center of Lexington, it initially acts like a normal hill and as I near the top, I feel a sense of accomplishment: almost made it. But just as I reach what appears to be the crest of it - and this gets me every time - not only does it continue, but suddenly it becomes steeper. That last stretch, usually with my gearing already maxed out, just always manages to drain my morale. By comparison, the nearby Page Hill is a more significant climb. But I find it easier to handle, because the grade transitions it goes though somehow feel more logical.



Lat week I got a new computer and it has this feature that shows the grade percentage. This little toy has made me ridiculously excited and I am finally getting a sense for what different grades feel like. It also allows me to quantify my suffering. A climb starts to feel effortful at 6%, difficult at 10% and when I got the "Mommy can I go home now?" feeling I glanced down to see 14%. I was also surprised to learn that the "flat" Minuteman Trail reaches a 4% grade in a couple of the false flat stretches. Are you falling asleep yet at this fascinating information?



I am told that lots of cyclists start out hating hills, but then grow to enjoy them more and more. It could be that I am in that category... how else could I enjoy making a game of guessing the grade?