Wordless Wednesday :: Red Seat

Outside my apartment in Fort Wayne. Summer of 1985. Bicycle in the stair well.
Copyright © 1985/.. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman

Booty

We found this in the woods. I wonder if it has anything to do with Dave's unsafe socks.

New Beginnings

Earlier this week I finally made it to 12 Channel Street in South Boston - the new home of Royal H. Cycles, Geekhouse Bikes, Hubway Bikeshare and a number of other local bicycle-related ventures.





Organised by the intrepid Marty Walsh of Geekhouse, HQ Boston is a new collective space in an industrial waterfront area dubbed the "Innovation District," and its acquisition has been the talk of the town among bikey people. It is big news. The space is big (24,000 sq ft), the commitment is big (10 year lease), and the scope of the project is big. The move shows there is growth in the local small scale bicycle industry, and implies a collective faith in this growth continuing.






Seeing the venue for the first time - an entire second floor of a warehouse-type building, still mostly open floor space - I was overwhelmed by the sheer blank canvas potential of it. Anything could happen here. Many things will, soon.







All morning long there was energy, movement. Planks scattered, walls going up. Men at work. At the same time it was oddly peaceful for a place with so much going on. The size of the space diffuses the construction noise. The light coming in from the outside casts a soft white glow over the debris.






The floor space occupied by Geekhouse and Royal H has been set up and operational for months.There are beautiful machines, jigs, tools, frames and wheels suspended along the walls.





The presence of the framebuilders is there.





Oh yes.






Walking through the space, I admit to feeling some nostalgia. The new venue lacks the personality of the oldGeekhouse shack in Allstonwith its famous graffiti mural. It lacks the charm of the tiny old Royal H workshop in Somervilleby the railroad tracks, just minutes from my house. There is no small neighbourhood feel here. Huge industrial buildings greeted me as I looked out the window, blocking the view of the Harbor. But even as I thought these things, I knew that it was the sentimentalist in me talking. Any place can become a neighbourhood once filled with neighbours, and the Innovation District is attracting new creative small businesses every day. Murals will be painted in due course. The personality of a space takes time to develop.





This place has the potential for growth and collaboration that was not available to either of the occupants beforehand, and the excitement of this is almost tangible.







The spirit of working together is in the air. Though I came to meet with Bryan of Royal H., I later encountered Shane - the man behind BostonBiker. I've corresponded with Shane in the past and I thought that we'd met before, but obviously we haven't because this was a totally different person. It took me a bit just to wrap my head around that and readjust my mental image of him, but soon we were giddy with talk of joint projects involving Shane's skillz and mine.






But back to the main purpose of my visit: I am working on a new mixte prototype with Royal H. Cycles. I sold the mixte Bryan made for me in to finance this, and although this was difficult I don't regret it. The new collaboration will be my design and Bryan's framebuilding. If the prototype works out and is cost-effective, the idea is that it would become a model available to order. I am not thinking of this as my personal bike and not getting attached to it. Very possibly I will sell the prototype, particularly if we end up having to make another. There is so much to say about what I hope this bicycle will be, but in these early stages I am too nervous and excited to talk about it too much. As far as form, I can say that it will be a low-trail 650B mixte with curved twin lateral stays. Fully lugged, with lots of modified lugwork. As far as function, my hope is to make a bike that will be suitable for both urban and long-distance transportation, including over hilly terrain, optimised for women who ride in their everyday clothing. There are lots of details regarding what this involves in my mind and why, and I look forward to sharing them.






In the meantime, it looks like I will be paying these gentlemen more visits over the summer, which is certainly not a bad thing. It will be wonderful to watch HQ Boston develop. If anyone local is interested in joining, there is space available and rent is cheap. Things are happening in Boston. Here's to new beginnings.

Once More with Feeling: the Return of the Winter Tire Dilemma

After last year's mild winter, this holiday season caught us off guard with a bountiful snowfall. My two ridable transport bikes at the moment are a Brompton and a 650B prototype mixte (more on that soon). The mixte sports 42mm Grand Bois Hetre tires, and so I thought it would be a great idea to ride it in the snow. After all, the Hetres ride so nicely over unpaved, uneven terrain. Crusty snow feels kind of similar. I took to the streets.




Here I will pause to admit, that despite 3 previous winters of cycling behind my belt, I had never before ridden on roads that look quite like what's pictured here. There was never a need to, since our neighbourhood usually gets plowed and salted pretty thoroughly. Typically the streets look morelike this-with snowbanks piled high on the sides, but the travel lanes mostly cleared. This time around, maybe on account of the holidays, they had not cleared the snow all that well. I got to experience the real deal.






The snow on the roads created terrain of three distinct categories. There was the even, packed snow. Riding on it felt similar to riding on post-rain dirt roads, nicely packed and kind of softish. The Hetres handled well there. There was the crusted-over snow, uneven and slippery at times, though not outright icy. This too felt manageable. And then there were the occasional stretches of deeper, slushier snow. I expected it to feel similar to mud, but it was way more slidey and my front wheel kept fishtailing. Still, overall I thought that the tires did fine. There were only a few stretches where I felt uneasy, and I attributed that to a lack of confidence.




So I got home and uploaded some pictures of my snow ride, planning to comment on how decently the Grand Bois Hetres handled. But promptly the pictures received feedback from others to the opposite effect, warning that these tires ride poorly in the snow. The fact that I happily rode them and felt they were fine strikes me as funny - in a concerning sort of way. Ideally, I'd like to be able to tell the difference between lack of traction and lack of confidence.






And so, once more the Winter Tire Dilemma is upon me. Naturally, everyone is suggesting studded tires. This is my 4th winter commuting by bike and I have yet to try them. Partly this is because they are expensive and I cannot seem to commit to a wheel size. I am riding 650B now, but in winters past I've ridden 26", 28" and 700C, and who knows what I'll be riding next winter. I am also convinced that getting studded tires and mounting them on my bike will activate the Umbrella Carrying Principle, ensuring that I will not need them.






Finally, the very fact of having gotten through 3 winters without them makes me question whether I really need studs. Winters here aren't really that bad, and tires with some tread seem to do pretty well. The Schwalbe Marathon Plus are the husband's favourite for city slush and snowy paths alike, and they are even available for the Brompton's wheel size. The performance-oriented Continental Top Winter IIs also come highly recommended. Knobby mountain bike tires are another popular choice. One issue, as I understand it, is that no tire is equally good for both snow and ice. Studded tires help with ice, but not snow. Tires with heavy tread help with snow, but not ice.This winter, my commutes cover longer distances and more remote areas than previously, so a good winter tire is worth considering ...though with all the choices and factors involved, I suspect spring might come by the time I decide.

Cars

Cars have always been a big part of my father's life. He once bought a house- one half of a duplex with 9 garages. You can still see them on the alley - between Van Ness and Upton Streets. He can tell you about every car he has ever owned starting with the Model T Ford he bought on the sly with the money he earned from picking up golf balls and selling papers. His father thought he was too young to have a car, but that didn’t stop my dad. He lied about his age, forged his father’s name, and got a permit when he was only fifteen. Then his friend, Fred Brown had to hide the car at his house until it was too late for my Papou to stop the deal.

Before he had his own car, my Dad would steal my Papou's car- a maroon Chevrolet with black fenders. Papou kept it in a garage about a block away. Dad swiped the keys to both the garage and the car. He never put gas in it, and Papou never figured out why the car got such bad mileage. He even took it back to the dealer to complain. Later on, my brother would follow unwittingly in his shoes. Not knowing of Dad’s escapades, he’d climb down the tree outside his bedroom window on Davenport Street and “borrow” the car at night. The difference between father and son here was that my brother got caught . Our dad checked the mileage.
My brother’s only recourse was to buy his own car with the money he made from a temp job at the post office. He got a 1939 Buick, shaped like a torpedo. What little paint it had was blue. There was an antenna in the middle of the windshield. No brakes, no insurance, and once again, a forbidden purchase. He’d park it about a block away and walk home. He didn’t get caught until about 9 months later when Dad found a traffic ticket in his wallet.

Anyway after the Model T, my dad upgraded to a 1927 Chevrolet-2 door coupe convertible and from then on it was convertibles all the way. He wanted to modify the Chevy so he went up to the Friendship depot and got a straw bench from a retired streetcar. Then he cut the trunk lid, reversed the hinges, and made his own rumble seat. The next car was a 1932 Desoto with black fenders. He bought that one from a chef from Altoona who was working for Papou at Macomb Cafeteria.

Just before WWII, he got a brand new 1940 Hudson V8 with back windows that buttoned in when the top was down. That was it for new cars for a while. The factories stopped making cars and started making war machines. Those were dark days for my father. During the war, he pre-ordered four cars- and as they started rolling off the assembly line he was right there. The first was a 1947 green convertible Studebaker which he sold when the green convertible Buick came in. Next was the maroon Town and Country Chrysler which he totally loved until the emerald green Cadillac showed up. From then on, it was Cadillacs right on up to the seventies when Cadillac stopped making convertibles. Even then my cousin, Peter Sclavounos, managed to find him a custom made red Eldorado- which turned out to be the last stallion in line, and Dad’s personal favorite with its chrome spoke wheels and big white side walls. But Dad eventually got the fever for a new car again- and it had to be a convertible. That’s when my all American Dad converted to BMW, and it was somewhere around then that he got the bright idea of buying my mother “her car” for their anniversary. My mother didn't learn to drive until her late twenties, and she doesn’t particularly enjoy it, but she wanted her freedom. She avoids the Beltway at all cost, although I have to say she’s a little bit of a lead foot for a supposedly timid driver. She drives to get there, and she does just that. She’s always hated the top down for the unspeakable things that happen to her hair, but she’s always driven a convertible because that’s what Dad loves, and Mom has always "gone along with the program". Even now-just this year- for their 71st anniversary, Dad went out and bought her a bright red Toyota Salera convertible. My mother was totally gracious about it, too. She said she liked the color. And just like when he was a kid, Dad got away with it.

An evening in Duluth

Duluth is a beautiful city, and whenever I come to Duluth (if I have the time) I do the good "tourist" thing and make a stop at Canal Park. My brother and I have some appointments tomorrow, but we decided to come down tonight so we could see a movie and not be so rushed tomorrow. As we came into town we noticed an ore boat out on the lake, heading towards the ship canal. We decided to check in quickly at our hotel then go to Canal Park to watch the ship come through.



When we got to Canal Park, it looked like the ship's passing was going to be timed perfectly with the setting sun. However, the ship was moving so slowly that by the time it entered the canal the sun had gone down and the ship was no longer in that nice, warm evening light. Oh well! I still snapped a few pictures as it went through. The image below was shot with my 17mm lens, which allowed me to fit the whole ship in the frame at close range, but also distorted the look a little bit.



After hanging out at Canal Park for a little while longer, we went to see the new "X-Men" movie. When the movie was over, we took a walk along the harbor past the Vista dock, and I took a few pictures along the way. I loved the reflections in the water in the image below:

Islands in the sky

The fog over Lake Superior yesterday was mesmerizing. One of the best places along the whole Minnesota North Shore is from the Mt. Josephine wayside in Grand Portage, where this photo was taken. We had a series of intense thunderstorms roll through the area yesterday and in between each storm the fog was incredible. Sometimes it would roll in and completely hide the Susie Islands from view, other times it was just thin wisps of fog in between the islands. My favorite views were when the fog was thick in between the islands but not completely covering them. It looked as though the islands were up in the sky, floating in the clouds.

Shiloh Revisited

It was 3 1/2 years ago that I wrote a little something about the Civil War battle at Shiloh in western Tennessee and about two of my relatives (or rather, one confirmed and one potential relative) who gave their lives in that battle. I have now been to the battlefield at Shiloh (also known as Pittsburg Landing) three times, the most recent being a week ago (November 15th). I'm not sure what keeps drawing me back there. Perhaps it is the spirit of Jacob Berlin and of Ralph Goodrich and of all the other men that lost their lives there. Each visit leaves me with a greater appreciation and sense of awe for those men and what they went through.

The video shown at the visitor center is the same one they have been showing since 1956, according to the ranger on duty last week. And the exhibits on display are the same as the ones the last time I was there in ... But this time, I looked a little closer and noticed something that somehow I had missed the last time...

How I missed it, I don't know. But, see those two photographs on the left – the ones of the soldiers standing in their camps? They are of companies of the 9th Regiment and the 44th Regiment of Indiana Volunteer Infantry! It struck me as odd that there would be on display photos of two regiments from Indiana to represent the northern troops... and that those two regiments are the same ones that Jacob Berlin and Ralph Goodrich served with! Jacob was in the 9th and Ralph in the 44th. What are the odds of that happening? Of course, they aren't the same companies that Jacob and Ralph served in, but still. Makes you wonder... I took close-up photos of the pictures and will have those in a couple of future posts.

Some of the relics on display at Shiloh National Battlefield visitor center.Belt buckles, buttons, knives, bullets, and mini-balls.
Both Jacob and Ralph were in the line of battle along “The Sunken Road” a portion of which was named “The Hornets' Nest” because bullets were flying by so close and fast that it sounded like a mass of hornets buzzing. This realistic diorama shows part of the action along the Sunken Road. A sign alongside it states “At one point in the battle, as the Confederates were trying to break the Union defense line at the Hornets' Nest, the Confederates concentrated the greatest collection of artillery yet to appear on the American continent. Artillery played a major role in the battle, supporting infantry advances, breaking enemy attacks, and causing many of the deaths and injuries.”

I walked along the sunken road, now a wide path through the woods, looking for the monument for the 44th Regiment. I missed the path that veered off to the left toward the monument the first time through but found it on the return walk.

The Monument to the 44th Regiment, Indiana Volunteer Infantry.
Its backside faces the path and the “front” side of the monument faces the direction in which the troops were facing during the battle - south.

The backside of the monument is inscribed with details of the battle:44th InfantryCommanded byCol. Hugh B. Reed.
“This regiment formed in this line Sunday, April 6th 1862, at 8.30 a.m. It repulsed several charges made by the enemy, including four terrific charges by right of Gibson's brigade, which, under orders of Gen. Bragg, was attempting to force this part of the line back. During these engagements the woods caught fire. At 2.30 p.m. regiment fell back to a line with 1st Brigade, then to rear and left of the Bloody Pond, where it charged on enemy's infantry and artillery. Here seven flag- bearers were shot down. At 4.30 p.m. slowly fell back and supported siege guns. Monday, April 7th, regiment fought the enemy till 3 p.m. Number men in action, 478. Casualties: killed, 1 officer and 33 men: wounded, 6 officers and 171 men; missing, 1 man: total, 212." Ralph Goodrich died on April 8th of wounds he received during the battle on the 6th.

The monument to the 9th Infantry was supposed to be in the field just north of the Sunken Road, as marked on the park map by the Ranger, but I never did find it... this website has a photo of it. The inscription reads “Commanded by Col. Gideon C. Moody. This regiment arrived on the battlefield at 9 p.m., April 6, 1862, moved upon the enemy at daylight of the 7th, was hotly engaged at this place 10 a.m. Repulsed a heavy attack from the front (south), and charged with brigade to the right (west), and drove back the enemy. At 12.30 p.m. was sent by Gen. Nelson across the road to the left to the aid of Col. Ammen. Casualties: killed, 1 officer and 16 men; wounded, 7 officers and 146 men; total, 170." Jacob Berlin was among the 16 men killed.

This was in the area of the Hornets' Nest. The monument to the 44th was to the east about a quarter of a mile down the path.

Paradise! 3 Hikes a Day

We finished up the Oh Be Joyful Trail early and decided to follow the signs to Paradise Divide










At one point it was uncertain which road was ours so of course Gary goes for the more interesting of the two across water.






It ended up being a dead end so we turn around and follow the other road up.





and up






We run into snow and can't reach Schofield Pass






Not sure if this is Emerald Lake or if that is further up towards the pass.













either way it's beautiful,





We ran into a few narrow spots on the road.






Here's a view ofpart of the road we took up.






Heading back it seems we should be aware of Marmots.






We continue on to check out Lost Lakes. Gary is tired and waits in the car while Tucson and I take a short hike.






We meet a chipmunk along the way






The Lost Lake is found











Time to head home via the Ohio Pass






One last stop to do the Beaver Pond Trail that we missed last time through.






The trail goes through a large stand of Aspen and pine.






Aspen stand alone - Birch stand in Bunches.





Guess we know how Beaver Pond got its' name






On the way home we pass by this great ranch












I could definitely live here!



A long but enjoyable day!





Till Later!



Meanwhile, we keep on Trek'n



Melissa, Gary & Tucson