Rando Bikes in Use: Boston Edition

When I post pictures of bicycles belonging to cyclists I know, I often receive surprised comments from readers in other parts of the country: How representative are these bikes of what the locals are really riding? The lugs, the refurbished vintage frames, the custom builders, the handlebar bags, the leather saddles... My posts imply that these are typical, yet they are far from the norm today. One sentiment in particular has been repeated and it stuck on my mind: "At real randonneuring events, everyone is riding carbon fiber." That may very well be true, I thought - having never been to a sanctioned randonneuring event.






However that has now changed, as I've just returned from working support at aNew England Randonneurs 600K brevet. More on that after I get some sleep, but for now I present to you a tally of the bikes that were ridden in the event. Among the 11 machines at the start, there were: two Rivendells, a Rawland, a refurbished vintage Mercier, a Bianchi Volpe, a titanium Seven, a titanium Lynskey, a luggged carbon fiber Colonago, a carbon fiber Trek, and 2 carbon fiber Specialized.






All of the bicycles present sported dynamo lighting, usually supplemented with additional battery lights.






About half of the bicycles were equipped with some sort of handlebar bag, including several of the classic randonneuring varitety, supported by front racks.






Full coverage fenders, classic saddlebags and leather saddles were also well represented.






The aesthetic highlight for me was the elegant black bike with a "Jean-Pierre Danguillaume" decal - made in the 1970s by Mercier (a French manufacturer not to be confused with the English Mercian).






As I understand it, the bike belonged to the rider's father and sat dormant for decades until he - the son - refurbished it to use as a brevet bike.





It is now fitted with modern components, lightweight racks, dynamo lighting and a handlebar bag. The owner also managed to wrangle in wide fenders and tires - an admirable accomplishment, if you have a look at the clearances.






The double top tube Rivendell Homer Hilsen was probably the most unexpected bike there for me. While Rivendell did not invent the "2TT" concept (heavy-duty Dutch bikes and Roadsters are often built with double top tubes), it is surprising to see this construction on a roadbike.






The second Rivendell present was an older Rambouillet model that happened to be exactly my size.






The more I examined this bike, the more I liked it: Great proportions, roadish geometry, 26" wheels. No toe overlap, even with wide tires and fenders, and fairly lightweight. I wish they hadn't discontinued this model.





I had not seen a Lynskey bicycle in person before, so that was interesting.






Though titanium, it looks distinctly different from the Sevens I am used to seeing around here. This bike sported a minimalist randonneur setup: small handlebar bag, saddle wedge, dynamo lights, no fenders.





The carbon fiber bikes employed a similar strategy.







Other bicycles were decidedly less minimalist. The Rawland was the only one of the bunch I had seen before, and the owner typically has it equipped ready for anything.




Overall, what I saw on the 600K brevet reflected the types of bicycles I generally encounter when out riding around Greater Boston. While minimalist carbon fiber is common, equally common around these parts are classic steel bicycles set up with traditional racks and bags. If I had to say what the randonneuring bikes had in common, it's that - regardless of their weight, accessories, and style of construction - they were all modified in some unusual way by their owners; they were all just a tad more eccentric than your typical roadbike. When I mentioned this to one of the randonneurs over the weekend, he nodded approvingly - expertly stuffing a turkey and Nutella sandwich into the pocket of his handlebar bag: "Riding with these crazies will do that to you!"



So, what is it like where you live? I am sure there are regional differences in what kind of bicycles dominate these types of events. You might also be interested in this 2007 survey of the bicycles ridden in Paris-Brest-Paris.

Uh-oh

Hubby thinks the neighbors might be trying to tell us something...

Tombstone Tuesday :: Robert Quillen and His Wives

The remains of Robert Quillen and his second wife, Marcelle Babb, reside in a mausoleum at Cannon Memorial Park in Fountain Inn, Greenville County, South Carolina. He was the son of James Downey and Mandella (Joslin) Quillen and a grandson of Lysander and Lydia (Robison) Joslin. Robert was my 1st cousin 3 times removed.

For some reason, being in the mausoleum was a bit of a 'disturbing' experience for me. One of the custodians of the cemetery unlocked the building and went in with me to find the Quillen vault, and I'm glad he was there. It was dark inside, even with the lights on, and was just plain creepy. I get goose bumps just looking at these pictures and thinking about it. I have no such qualms about going to a cemetery and spending hours there. Perhaps it is the confined space of the building and the closeness of the remains that bothers me...

The Quillen crypt is the middle one in the photo above.

QUILLEN
MARCELLE BABB / JANUARY 16, 1898 / JUNE 9, 1971
ROBERT / MARCH 25, 1887 / DECEMBER 9, 1948

Robert's first wife, Miss Donnie Cox, is buried in the Fountain Inn Municipal Cemetery, Greeneville County, South Carolina in the same plot as his parents, J.D. and Della (Joslin) Quillen.

MISS DONNIE / WIFE OF / ROBERT QUILLEN / 1882 - 1922

And still they come

Outbound Immigrationin New Zealand havea hangboard.If you canstick tothe two finger slopers, for more than a minute, they let you pass.Oliver Miller is the latest to get through to Australia.





First they sent Matt Eaton to put up the cave's then hardest line

"A Knee Bar too Far" 8a 29



Frey Yule came on the same boat I think.



After Matt becameinjured they put Sebastian Loewensteijn on the plane.



In a moment of overkill they sent the original Kiwi Krusher -

Nick Sutter



Now we get the crimp fiend Oliver Miller.



All right we get it. You've got a factory over there.











He was sent specifically to bring down the Antoine Moussette open project, working title, "Taking Care of Business."









He just may be the one to do it.



His passport says he is 24. He's been climbing for 12 years, predominantly at Castle Hill.12 years? Can that be right? Probably in some harsh government run climbing camp where they force kids to train in brutal, freezing conditions.And feed them nothing but fush.

We are honoured to have you Oliver.Do what you were sent for.

Hey. You Look Good.

Looking straight at her, he said it with nonchalant sincerity, nodding in approval for emphasis.



"Hey. You look good."



In response she gave him a startled, almost bewildered look. As if caught off guard by his directness. As if to say "Hey buddy, this is a cycling club, not a night club. And don't you know any subtler flirting tactics besides?"



Witnessing the exchange I had to suppress a laugh. When this phrase was first said to me on a ride, I did not know what to make of it either.



Of course the guy was telling her she looked good on the bike. That her position was good, that the bike fit her well, that she had good form. It's all in the tone and in the look. Once you get used to this pronouncement in a cycling context, it's hard to mistake for flirtation. But the first time it does catch you off guard. "You look good." Just like that, huh?



I don't tell other cyclists they look good on the bike when we ride together. I don't feel ready. What do I know good form from bad? Yes I see things, and I think it to myself. But it wouldn't be right to say it. The compliment must have significance.



But when I have my camera the dynamic changes. I tell riders they look good then, and it takes on a different meaning: happy, radiant, picturesque. Maybe they have a contagious smile. Or an intriguing frown. Or the light through the trees is falling on their face just so. Or the colour of their bike interacts perfectly with the colours of the bench they are standing beside. It feels natural to say it then, looking through the lens of my camera. "You look wonderful." Or "That's beautiful - thank you."



And there are times when I know not to say it. Just like sometimes I know not to point my camera. Even though the scene looks perfect, I just don't.



The human gaze is such a complicated thing. It communicates interest, care, the acknowledgement of the other, but also scrutiny. We want to be gazed upon to some extent, but there is always a line beyond which we don't. In cycling, the gaze is ever present - focused on each other's bodies, movements. Sometimes it is silent judgment. And sometimes it culminates in "Hey. You look good." In response to which I simply say "Thanks" and continue to pedal.

Beauty and the Beast

Two recent visitors:

A Great Egret (Ardea alba)







and two Black Vultures (Coragyps atratus)




The Black Vulture isn't really a beast of course. He's just got an image problem.

"Hey, compared to the Turkey Vulture, I'm a beauty queen!"

Actually I think they're both beauties. We see Turkey Vultures a lot more than Black Vultures, so I was tickled to see these guys perched in a dead tree last week on a foggy morning.

The Great Egret has decided that he likes our fishing hole and has been hanging around for the past week, getting used to us. The Great Blue Heron is the only one not happy about that.

He seems to think he's got exclusive fishing rights, and intimidates the Great Egret with lots of squawking and flapping. "Heron fight! Heron fight!"

Skiing and Alpinism?

I have a buddy who found climbing late in life. He really enjoys climbing and doing moderate classics here in the Cascades. With easy access to the volcano's locally one of the side sports seemed really fun to Joe, which was, alpine touring. Joe took a buddy's advice to heart, which was, "learn to ski first or you'll hate it". Good advice I think to a beginning climber who had never skied.



So Joe has spent the last four winters not only learning how to ski but becoming and PSIA instructor while he was at it. Last week was his first day out on AT gear. The question now is will he continue?



One of my most fond memories in the mountains was cutting under the ski area boundary rope late one spring just before the area closed for the season. Skiing was just skiing back then. No AT gear. Cross country gear was skinny stuff done in running shoes for the flats. But I do remember the amazing freedom I felt being able to go "just anywhere" on the hard pack spring corn. We only did a couple of runs that day but they are still some of the best skiing I can remember today.



That kind of spring skiing lead to a lot of hiking up hill carrying our skis and ski boots over the next decades. The original goal in our little group was to ski every month of the year. Not sure if we ever managed that. Although I have now by traveling to the southern hemisphere. But that would have been considered cheating by our old standards.



late May '73









Classic early '70s ski gear and attire!



Late spring skiing in the Pacific Northwest generally starts on Mt Hood because they had/have a summer ski program. But if you were willing to hike, Mt St. Helens (pre-crater) , Mt Rainier, Mt Baker and Shasta were all easy goals. So I was always a skier, who slowly became a climber because what I really wanted to do was ski.









I have the idea that the best alpine climbers are generally good skiers. Steep snow and weird conditions don't phase them.If you ski and climb you look at the conditions and the steepness of a slope differently. Knowing what conditions you can get stopped on if you fall and what you can't is always a good thing. Falling whilesnow climbing is likely a unusual situation. Falling on a pair of skis may not be.



Everything that applies to skiing applies to alpine climbing. It is gear intensive. The very best gear these days is super light and will allow you to do things much easier and much faster with less energy output. I admit to a bit of bias here but ifyou want to see how someone climbs, watchhow they ski. Or ifyou are forced to playwithone, watch howtheyboard;-)









The final gut check is are they willing to hike for turns in the spring and summer? If so you might well have a budding Alpinist! Make them break trail a season or twobefore you commit though. More if they ride goofy foot instead of ski. ;-)

Some sports never change. The players obviously do.At least we don't have to carry the boots now. Some how it isstill the extra baggage that seemsan issue.late May '11It is always steeper than it looks!



Joe likely questioning his own sanity a few hours before his first AT turns :)