Uber-follies: No Picnic (5.5), Shit or Go Blind (5.8), Fancy Idiot (5.6) & More!

My partner Liz and I were in the Gunks on a Tuesday, and the place was practically deserted. Flipping through the guidebook, Liz made an observation.



"There sure are a lot of starred climbs in the Uberfall area that we never do."



It was true. I usually speed through the Uberfall as fast as I can to get away from the crowds. But Dick Williams gives stars to a whole bunch of climbs right at the start of the Trapps, and some of these never seem to be occupied, even on crowded weekends.



I've had mixed experiences with the routes I have tried in this part of the cliff.



I hated Handy Andy (5.7), to name one example. This climb sits right where the carriage road makes the turn that puts you at the left edge of the long wall that is the Trapps. I led Handy Andy a couple years ago, at the end of a long climbing day. I'd wanted to do it because it looked improbable. From the road, the face climbing past two old pins looked totally smooth and blank. When I actually climbed it, I thought the holds were thin, for sure, but the real problem was the pro. You're stuck with the old pins and nothing else for several moves, which isn't exactly ideal. What's worse, since you start the route by climbing in sideways, I always felt like I was about to hit the deck. The routine was: make an unprotected move, clip a pin, then make another move sideways and feel like you're in groundfall range. Rinse and repeat.



I got my hands up to the first real horizontal above the pins and threw a cam in, then scampered up to the next stance. And then on the lower-angled bit to the top I felt like there wasn't any good pro and that I was once again entering ground-fall range. I told myself I was never leading that climb again, although in retrospect it doesn't seem so bad. I could see myself getting psyched up to do it at the end of another long climbing day.



I have a similar distaste for Laurel (5.7), one of the Gunks' most popular routes. Laurel was once rated 5.6, but the start has gotten so polished over the years that the first few moves seem significantly harder than that. The current 5.7 rating is Dick Williams' concession that the bottom part of the climb has changed, but in my opinion he didn't go far enough. It is probably much harder than 5.7, if only for one or two moves. I have successfully climbed the route on toprope a couple times. I can't say I found it particularly memorable or worth the trouble.



One day last year I decided, for some reason, to lead it for the first time. I made the first move up to the slick but sizable foothold. Then I tried to put some pro in the pin scar over my head, so the next slippery move would be protected. I wormed a C3 into the pin scar, but I wasn't happy with it. I thought the placement was marginal, but it seemed this was all I was going to get.



I could see the good hold, not too far out of reach. I just needed to make one step up and grab it, and the rest of the climb would be a cruise.



Of course, I blew the move and fell.



The marginal cam held for half a second, then popped, hitting me in the helmet. Then my ass hit the ground.



Yes, that's right, I decked from three feet up on Laurel.



I started to get to my feet when a stranger appeared out of nowhere, saying "Whoa! Whoa! Don't move, let me check you out!"



I started to reassure this guy that I was fine, but then I decided he was right. Who knows, I figured, maybe I broke my spine during the stupidest lead fall in the history of the world. I shouldn't compound the humiliation of the moment by arrogantly jumping to my feet and ensuring my total paralysis.



So I waited as the stranger waved his hands over me and otherwise determined that I was intact. After this inspection he told me my gear was the problem. He said I'd blocked a necessary handhold by placing a bad cam in the pin scar, and that a micronut would've worked there. I'm sure he was right, but I didn't try it out. I decided instead that I was NEVER climbing stupid Laurel again.



Not all the climbs in the Uberfall are stinkers. Some are three-star classics, worthy of all the accolades. I love many of these climbs, including Horseman (best 5.5 in the Gunks), Apoplexy (my new favorite!), Retribution (which I will some day lead), Bunny (great 5.4 or one-move 5.6), and others.



And some of the less heralded, one-star climbs in the Uberfall area are quite nice, like Black Fly (5.5), Nice Crack Climb (5.7), and Nice 5.9 Climb, all of which sit just right of Handy Andy. Black Fly was one of my first leads, several years ago. It has nice casual climbing up to the right-angling crux crack, which takes great pro. It is a wonderful easy lead. Nice Crack Climb next door has a short 5.7 crux, and then more casual climbing up to the same slanting crack. And Nice 5.9 Climb has two good cruxes, the first of which I found a little tricky on toprope last year. I couldn't make the stand-up move at the overlap; it took me several tries, but finally I got my weight over it just right and it seemed preposterously easy.



So the other Tuesday we decided to try a few more one-star Uberfall climbs. We started our day with No Picnic (5.5) and Shit or Go Blind (5.8), which are tucked away just left of the Gerdie Block.





(Beta Photo: No Picnic (5.5))



Dick says that No Picnic has some sandy holds. I thought it was actually quite clean. Maybe a touch of grittiness at the crux overhang, but nothing worth complaining about. The climbing is nice and reasonable. Up an easy slab without much pro to the obvious left-facing corner, where good pro appears. At the top of the corner move right to a spot beneath a crack that runs through the overhang. Crank up over the overhang and say to yourself: this is 5.5? Then easy face climbing, pretty much straight up, staying left of and avoiding another overhang, brings you to the belay tree, which as of this writing has a burly steel cable around it with rap rings.



No Picnic is a pleasant warm-up climb. Good rock, quality climbing, and fine protection except for the first few moves.





(Beta Photo: Shit or Go Blind (5.8))



Shit or Go Blind offers more nice clean climbing, with two good little cruxes, both soft for 5.8 in my opinion.



The climb starts a bit low-angled, without much pro for the opening moves, just like its neighbor No Picnic. There's great protection for the rest of the way. Once past the opening face, you climb into a shallow open book and up to an overhang. The first crux comes as you traverse left through an overhanging section, and then up and over the roof, about five feet to the right of where No Picnic goes over it. I remember a pin in this part of the climb, but Dick says the second roof has the pin. Even if I'm wrong about the pin, I remember placing at least two cams in this section; I felt very well protected. And the holds are great, it's just a little pumpy.



Pretty straightforward climbing leads to a second roof, which is again surmounted using great holds and a strong move up, with good pro and apparently a pin that I've forgotten. Trend left above the roof to join No Picnic just below the belay tree.



Nothing spectacular to see here. But Shit or Go Blind is another perfectly pleasant climb; not a waste of time at all. Good moves, good rock, convenient and easy to approach and descend from.





(Photo: Looking down through the bushes from the top of pitch two of Fancy Idiot)



Later in the day we were looking for a climb to do on the way back to the parking lot. Looking over Dick's guide we considered a couple Uberfall one-stars. At first I was thinking about Eyebrow (5.6). But as I surveyed the cliff, searching for the line, I couldn't tell where it went through the upper roofs.



Then my attention turned to Fancy Idiot (5.6), which starts just left of Bunny. I could see where both pitches went. I spied the pins on pitch one, and I could see the second pitch's obvious corner. Seemed like a reasonable enough choice.



"I didn't know there was a climb here next to Bunny," Liz said. I guess I never really did either.



So we racked up and did it. And I'll cut to the chase here and say I basically think Fancy Idiot is a waste of time. I'm not sorry I did it once, but I'll probably never do it again.



The most worthwhile parts of pitch one occur in the first 25 feet or so. Up the face left of Bunny, the climb ascends a shallow right-facing corner that is crescent-shaped (fixed pin). Getting established in this corner was surprisingly challenging for me; it requires a couple interesting moves.



After the crescent-shaped crack a huge ledge is reached. Here look for another pin above and a little to the left-- I also found a crack for pro off to the right, which was easy to make use of with my double ropes. One more thin face move takes you up past the pin to easier moves and another ledge.



Once atop this second ledge, the worthwhile climbing is over, but the pitch continues. I elected to keep going up a little right (passing a disturbingly small tree with slings around it) and then left, traversing towards another, larger tree growing at a severe angle out of a precariously stacked pile of blocks. I kept moving towards this second tree because I believed it to be the belay tree at the base of the pitch two corner mentioned in Dick's guide. But the closer I got to this tree the less I wanted to have anything to do with it. It looked like even stepping on the blocks around the tree might send the whole pile down into the gully to the right of the Gerdie Block. So I stopped at the base of the big left-facing corner, built a gear belay in some suspect flakes, and brought Liz up.



Once she got to the top of the pitch, we debated what to do next. We could traverse to the right and join Bunny to its belay tree. Or we could traverse left and walk across to the top of the Gerdie Block, and then rappel or scramble down the other side. Or we could do pitch two of Fancy Idiot, to the top of the cliff. This 5.4 pitch looked simple enough, if a little dirty and overgrown. I figured I could lead it in about five minutes. So we decided to keep climbing. What the heck, why not?



I will say this in favor of pitch two of Fancy Idiot: it is surprising how much of an adventure experience you can find right on top of the Gerdie Block and just to the left of Bunny, Retribution and Nosedive. Surrounded by these immensely popular climbs, you suddenly find yourself fighting through bushes, lichen, and dirty ledges to the top of the cliff. I felt like we were the first pair to traipse through this territory in quite a while.



The climbing was actually more interesting than I expected. The face to the left of the big corner is pretty blank, and blocks and flakes in the corner are often necessary tools for advancement. The problem with these blocks and flakes, however, is that many of them are loose.



If the crappy rock quality were not an issue, I might actually say pitch two of Fancy Idiot is worth the trouble in spite of the bushwhacking nature of the pitch. As things are, however, I think it isn't worth it. Fancy Idiot doesn't deserve the single star that Dick gave it. Don't bother.

Trip Into the Desert

This is a tree, a juniper,that I like to take photos of because of the where branches have been broke of it and cows have rubbed for so many years they have polished the wood.












Different views of the high mesa desert that I live on in New Mexico. This is a few miles from my home.







Our truck where we stopped while going down one of the arroyos (a ditch made by nature)that are filled with sand. If you stop in the wrong place you will be there until you can find someone to pull you out. 4-wheel-drive is a must.



Taken out the windshield as we make a quick drive to get out of the arroyo.







Chola cactus with the Sandia Mountains behind it. The cactus should be starting to bloom about now but looks as if it is dieing from the drought.

New Year's Nordic ....

We planned on a weekend of track skiing this weekend as Jennifer was told not to do the Polar Bear Plunge by the doctor. A bummer, because it was actually cold out on New Year's Day.

I went out Friday with Sabrina and Anne to help Anne learn to ski. She told me she watched a lot of videos on YouTube and then tried it for the first time last week. Sabrina and I tried to help her by imparting the knowledge we had to give her a better time.

We went out to Cabin Creek. I'm not sure how cold it was there, but it was 20° in Seattle when we left in the morning. I ended up wearing my puffy coat for most of the time out only taking it off for a few of the longer uphills. (And then promptly freezing on the downhills that followed.)

Anne learning to snowplow under beautiful skies

We did the normal full course without the Mount Ozibaldy loop. We got there a little after 9am and appeared to have the place to ourselves. That allowed us to stop frequently and give Anne pointers and instruction at the tops and bottoms of all the hills. Near the end of our loop we started to notice a few people.

Now it was crowded. Sabrina and I talked Anne into another short lap and then we went back to the car. Anne seemed satisfied with the day and Sabrina and I were impressed with her improvement being on skis for only the second time.

Sabrina and Anne coming up a hill

On New Year's Day Amy and Jennifer were joining us and we were heading to the flat Hyak Sno Park. Our day started well enough and Sabrina and I raced ahead trying different techniques to acquire speed. We stopped as I warmed up so I could remove my puffy coat.

While we waited for Amy and Jennifer to catch up we practiced standing (kick?) turns. Shortly after starting up again I almost fell when my ski came off. A woman skating by stated something like "what a freak accident." Everyone caught up to me and asked what was up. I told them my ski came off. But when I went to put it back on I realized the binding was missing a piece. We spent about ten minutes looking for it before Sabrina found it already buried in the snow in the bottom of the track. I attempted to repair the binding, but realized that I couldn't and resolved to walking back to the parking lot. Jennifer and I parted ways with the rest of our party, but not before Sabrina gave me the advice of standing on the ski with the broken binding.

Jennifer and I skied back to the parking lot. At first I just shuffled my feet not wanting to have the ski and my foot separate. Then I started varying my technique between a left foot kick and double pole glide and a shorter stride where kicking with my right foot meant pressing down on the ski to keep my foot in contact with it. At one point I was doing so well I had wished I continued further. But passing was quite difficult as I realized when I got near the parking lot and had to wait for a young boy who kept falling. Trying to pass would have meant stepping out of the lane, picking up my ski and then running past the person in front of me far enough to get back in the track and sort myself out. Hopefully this does not put an end to my Nordic season.

Happy New Year!

A Brief Visit to Bryce Canyon

Monday morning I left Salt Lake City and took the “scenic route” south out of Utah – US 89. I ended up spending the night at a little campground in the Escalante National Monument. It was a cool day and got even cooler overnight – frost covered the front and rear windows in the morning and the temperature was a brisk 26 degrees! It didn't take long to get ready and get on down the road that morning!



Tuesday, November 29th - - It was a pleasant drive to Bryce Canyon National Park and I was able to spend about four hours there. I drove through the park stopping at many of the viewpoints along the way. There were very few people around and traffic wasn't a problem at all – unlike in the summer time. There was some snow on the ground but the sun was shining and the 50 degree temperature felt much warmer.





This and the next three photos were taken at Sunset Point. Elevation 8,000 feet.









Taken from Bryce Point. A 1.3 mile trail winds its way through the canyon.



Another view of the trail into the canyon. It would have been neat to go down amongst the towering hoodoos, but I just wasn't up to that kind of challenge at that time.





Taken from Rainbow Point, elevation 9,115 feet.



Another shot from Rainbow Point.

Sunrise at Schwabacher's Landing

After spending a full day, sunrise to sunset, in Yellowstone yesterday, we drove to Teton Village just outside of Jackson, Wyoming where we would be spending the next couple of nights. We got in pretty late, but that didn't stop us from getting up early and heading out to shoot the sunrise. Today's plan was to shoot sunrise at Schwabacher's Landing, one of the iconic photo locations in Grand Teton National Park. Schwabacher's Landing overlooks the Teton Range, with a very photogenic beaver pond in the foreground.



Upon our arrival at Schwabacher's Landing, we saw right away that we certainly weren't going to have the place to ourselves (if that's even possible!). The parking area was already full of vehicles, and we saw what looked to be about 30 photographers already set up along the first couple of bends in the trail. We squeezed our way in between the other photographers and waited for the sun to hit the peaks. After only a few more minutes the tops of the peaks started to glow as the sunlight washed down them from top to bottom. All of a sudden the silence was broken by the sound of dozens of camera shutters clicking one after the other.



Once the sunlight had worked its way to the base of the mountains I started working my way upstream, finding myself stopping again after only traveling a few steps, having seen another composition catch my eye. The going was slow in this special place, as each bend in the trail presented a whole new batch of photo opportunities.



Part-way up the trail I actually ran into someone I know from back home... Don, who owns the camera store in Duluth. He and his wife were there with some friends. I snuck up alongside Don and exhaled rather heavily, then said "Well.... its not Lake Superior, but I guess it'll do!" Don started to mutter a reply, then turned and saw that it was me. "Hey! How are you?" It was a priceless moment :-)

First Cokinos Residence

Still having problems with my camera, but here is the house where George Cokinos was born--then and now at 919 11th NE- right around the corner from the where the candy shop was on H Street.
(We're still looking for the historical plaque.)
On the right: Pota, Peter and their children, Catherine and George probably sometime in 1918. Below is the house today.

Mt. St. Helens, Worm Flows

Foursquare Mountaineering split up and climbed 2 different mountains on the same day. This group went south and climbed the St. Helens winter route. What a view!






Pete M. and Dan on top.



Brian, Matthew, Diane, Andrew, Todd and David on the summit.

It was a great day to climb a mountain!

Spirits in the Sky

For the past couple of nights I've been taking advantage of both some beautiful night skies and the low-light capabilities of my new Canon 5D Mark II camera. This camera is just awesome for making night images. The image above is a 30 second exposure taken at ISO 3200, which I never could have done with my old camera. The old camera at ISO 3200 would have had so much noise that the image would have been unusable. By using such a high ISO setting, the camera was also able to pick up the Milky Way in the image.



The image above is a 2 hour exposure made between 11:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. This image was shot at ISO 100, but even with such a low ISO setting, at 2 hours most cameras would still be producing unacceptable noise levels. Not so with the 5D Mark II! The image is very clean, with very acceptable noise levels. It should be noted that in the above image, the glow of light on the horizon is not from the sun or the moon, but rather from the city lights of Thunder Bay, Ontario, which is about 40 miles away.

The image below was a 1.5 hour exposure, taken this time from 2:30 a.m. to 4:00 a.m. This time of year, by 3:30 a.m. the sky is already starting to show signs of light from the coming sun, and by running the exposure until 4:00 a.m. the final image looks almost like the blue sky that you see during the day.

Great comments on lwt skiing....

Ski season is about over here....just a bit more to be had.



For another look inside the current cutting edge, from Brian's blog:







"It's no longer "all about the down" and I have addressed the issue of boot weight previously. The only thing I will say is that taking weight off your feet is one of the best "weighs" to get your motor running. Any of the offerings from Dynafit, La Sportiva and Scarpa involving carbon fiber will do the trick."



http://www.getstrongergolonger.com/journal//7/17/grand-teton-speed-project-update-weight-matters.html





Next up...hopefully some sun in the NW, rock, road bikes, tris and thealpine. August OR show coming up quickly as well.

Red Angel's Trumpet

A bright red angel's trumpet, Brugmansia sanguinea, at the UC Berkeley Botanical Garden.

More Unfinished Business: Alpine Diversions (5.8), but not Insuhlation (5.9)

(Photo: Just over the big roof on pitch two of Alpine Diversions (5.8).)



As I've worked my way through a bunch of 5.9 routes at the Gunks this past year, a certain route has been hanging out there in the background, taunting me. It is a two-star route that is supposed to be really good. It also happens to be the route on which I broke my ankle in : Insuhlation (5.9).



A part of me has really wanted to go back and climb it-- to slay the demon, as it were. To put it behind me. And to find out what I think of the route, two years later. Who knows, maybe if I climbed it now I'd find it to be no big deal.



But another part of me wants nothing to do with Insuhlation. I worry that I'd become a shivering wreck if I led it again; that I'd be so in fear of a repeat injury that it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy. And a repeat injury on Insuhlation would be absolutely ridiculous. I can't let that happen. I'd never forgive myself.



Perhaps the thing that makes me most wary of Insuhlation is that I don't really know why I fell off of it when I did. I am also unsure of whether I could have done anything to better protect myself. I recall a little roof, and a (wet) keyhole-like hold that I tried to use briefly while reaching for a chalked-up, bigger hold above that I thought would be a jug. I remember grabbing this jug and finding it to be not so juggy. I had a green Alien below the little roof and I was looking around for more pro (but finding none) when I went flying.



Did my hand slip off? Did my foot? Was there better pro available than what I had? I'd feel better about going for it again if I had answers to these questions.



I had a brilliant idea about halfway through the season. It suddenly occurred to me that I should have one of my partners lead the route, and then I could follow it. It is such an obvious idea, I don't know why I never thought of it before. I could, for example, send my reliable guinea pig Adrian (who seems always willing to lead anything) up there and then as a second I could suss out whether I thought I could safely lead it at a later date.



But then Adrian led the route with another partner before I had a chance to suggest it to him. It didn't seem right to try to make him go right back to do it again. Adrian's impressions seemed to be that the last bits of the route were totally straightforward, and well-protected too. Hearing this only deepened the mystery for me.



As the year came to a close and the climbing season extended into an unseasonably warm December, I came up with another idea. I decided to lead the route right next to Insuhlation, a 5.8 called Alpine Diversions. Dick Williams gives the route a single star and calls it "surprisingly good." It seemed worth checking out in its own right. And it goes very close to Insuhlation. The second-pitch crux roof is only a few feet to the right of the Insuhlation crux, or so I believed. I thought I could lead Alpine Diversions and get a good look at the exact place where I fell. I might even get some ideas for some placements I missed. Maybe it would help me decide whether to lead it again, and if I felt good on Alpine Diversions I could do Insuhlation immediately thereafter.



So on December 4 when I climbed with Liz I suggested we try Alpine Diversions. Liz was game to try it.



I thought both pitches were just okay. Each pitch has one interesting crux moment and not too much else to offer.



On pitch one the interesting moment comes right off the ground. The pitch follows a thin, steep vertical crack running a few feet to the left of a little gully. One hold, a sidepull, is easy to reach. A jug sits above. If you are tall enough to reach the jug from the ground, you will probably find the opening moves to be a breeze. If, however, you are short like me, you will have to boulder up to the jug. And this boulder problem is a puzzler. I don't want to spell it all out but I will tell you to look around to either side of the crack. I found another crucial hold off to the left which made all the difference for me. This hold allowed me to get on the wall and reach up to the jug. And once I had the jug, I threw in a piece and made another step up to find that the pitch was essentially over.



Dick Williams suggests in his description that you continue directly over a blocky overhang and then up to the belay ledge past the big pine in "the steepest way." What this all means (I realize in retrospect) is that the route is contrived. After the opening boulder move, there are ways to force yourself to continue making 5th class moves. But in order to do so you have to deliberately avoid easier climbing just a step to the left or right. I didn't really see the point. It just seemed silly not to scamper up the stair-like blocks past the tree to the belay ledge.



On pitch two, the main attraction is a rather large overhang. Nice moves up a corner take you directly underneath it. Then an easy move left might deceive you into thinking you've already escaped the crux. But no. You still have to move right and pull the roof. It is a big reach. I really enjoyed this crux move. And there's great pro at the lip of the overhang.



After the roof, you again have the option to force yourself to keep climbing. You can move left and up to another roof, this one smaller and dirtier (and from the looks of it easier) than the first. On the other hand, if you just continue straight up you are basically done. Some easy low angle moves will take you to the belay tree. I chose the easy way, again not seeing much point in contriving a harder path to the finish.



When I reached the top I realized that I had forgotten to look at Insuhlation! The roof on Alpine Diversions had captured my full attention. Once above the roof, I probably could have glanced over at the exact spot where it all went wrong two years ago. But as obsessed as I am, as much as Insuhlation haunts me, I still didn't think to do it.



I had already decided I didn't have the stomach for doing Insuhlation, anyway. But still I was bummed to have missed out on the chance to look over the route up close.



On rappel I attempted to scope it out. To my surprise, I couldn't spot the line at all. Maybe I was too far to the left, but I had no luck in finding it. I thought I'd immediately see the roof, the keyhole, the jug. But I saw nothing I recognized. It was baffling.



I'm pretty sure that if I ever get back to climbing Insuhlation the whole experience will seem new to me. I want to go try it. But I don't want to approach it in an unhealthy state of mind. I don't want to climb it to prove anything. I don't want to climb it all stiff and scared. I think the whole accident thing is still too much in my head, even two years later. Better to wait.

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.

I'll miss you

I can scarely believe that the Bloodroots are almost gone. Every year it seems I haven't spent enough time with them.



Closed up for the night.

I visited a really special place with some of my fellow wildflower nuts. I'll share it once I can get Blogger to start cooperating better... I'm having a little trouble uploading photos at present.

Bike Lane Etiquette?

Having just returned from our stay on Cape Cod, I am greeted with a remarkable development: There are now bike lanes on one of the most hated stretches of road near my neighborhood. While normally I avoid this road, today I found reasons to travel along it multiple times just to experience its Disneyfication - for the city has also planted trees and installed decorative streetlights, in attempts to disguise the faded vinyl-siding of the multi-family homes and the peeling storefront signs that say things like "Used Tires". Why if Boston keeps this up, soon the last of the gritty neighborhoods will turn shiny and pleasant and there will be nothing to complain about!



Apparently, we are hardly the only town experiencing such shocking advances in bicycle infrastructure. A friend from Virginia has written me with the news that there are now bicycle lanes in Harrisonburg, and he - a lifelong cyclist sans lanes - does not quite know how to behave in them. Where is one supposed to pass? How to deal with joggers in the lane?



While I am by no means an authority, I will contribute my ideas on bike lane etiquette. Please note that although these contain commentary on safety, they are meant as thoughts on polite behaviour and are notsafety tips.



1. Positioning within the bike lane

It is a good idea to cycle in the left half of the bike lane, as this positioning places you out of the "door zone" (i.e. you will not get struck by a car's door, should one suddenly fling open). Occasionally, a misguided cyclist or driver may shout at you to scoot over to the right, so that they can pass you easier - but don't allow yourself to be guilted into listening to them. Instead, politely explain about the door zone and why your positioning in the lane is necessary.



Try to keep to a consistent line within the bike lane; don't weave. Drivers and other cyclists can get freaked out by weaving cyclists, and in turn behave irrationally.



2. Passing other cyclists

Passing other cyclists should be done on the left, never on the right. If you pass on the right, you endanger both yourself and the cyclist you pass, by nullifying the distance between the two of you and the door zone. Pass the slower cyclist by going around them on the left (into the traffic lane), naturally checking that the lane is clear first. Should another cyclist attempt to pass you on the right (you can sometimes sense them coming up behind you), I think it is perfectly fine to tell them not to do this ("Please don't pass on the right" or "Please pass me on the left").



3. Yielding to turning vehicles

Yield to turning vehicles in the lane, be they cars or other bicycles, instead of attempting to go around them as they are making the turn. Even if you manage to do this safely, it is disturbing to the vehicle to suddenly see you beside them as they attempt to execute a traffic maneuver.



4. Yielding to pedestrians

If the bike lane intersects a crosswalk, yield to pedestrians in a way that makes them feel safe - don't just cycle around them within inches of their person... And please don't even think of ringing your bell at pedestrians to make them cross faster (I have witnessed cyclists do this in Boston).It is the pedestrian's right to be in the crosswalk and your obligation to yield.



On the other hand, it is not the pedestrian's right to be in the bike lane itself, whether they are jogging or rolling a baby carriage, or whether it is a group of people caught up in chatting. If a pedestrian is blocking a bike lane, I think it is only fair to ring your bell and/or politely say something like "Excuse me, bike lane!" so that they move out of your way. It is rude of them to block the lane; it is not rude of you to point out that they are blocking it and ask them to move.



5. Positioning when stopped at intersections

When stopped at an intersection, stop before the crosswalk - as opposed to blocking it (as shown above), as some cyclists do in order to get a head start. It's not very nice to make pedestrians go around you as they attempt to cross the street.



If other cyclists are already stopped at the intersection when you arrive, it is generally considered polite to stop behind them - as opposed to next to them, in an attempt to compete for who goes first when the light turns green.



6. Turning

Communicate your intention to turn by signaling and merging into the turn lane early on, rather than at the last moment, so that drivers are not surprised and can yield to you properly.



Observe the same rules as if you were a motor vehicle: When making a left turn, yield to oncoming traffic; when turning right on red, yield to pedestrians crossing and to cross-traffic.



7. Wrong way in the bike lane?

I think the reason some cyclists engage in this behaviour, is to make an easier left turn. However, it is wrong and inconsiderate to"salmon" in the bike lanes; please don't do it. And I think it is perfectly acceptable to ask other cyclists not to do it.



8. Cycling onto the sidewalk

Upon reaching their destination, some cyclists transition onto the sidewalk and continue to cycle - dismounting when they reach the bike rack, or the front door of the building they will be entering. My view is that cyclists should dismount upon reaching the sidewalk, and walk their bike thereafter.



9. Speed

As while driving, it is common sense and common courtesy to slow down when executing delicate maneuvers in traffic. It is also common courtesy not to jeopardise the safety of other cyclists, even if you are in a hurry. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow of bicycle traffic, even if technically you are capable of going faster.



10. Interaction with drivers and other cyclists

Please... just be polite. If you are annoyed or frightened by a driver or another cyclist, it is never a good idea to express that sentiment by immediately insulting them or shouting obscenities. An urgent tone of voice does not need to be abusive. "You almost killed me!" in an alarmed voice is more effective than "You almost killed me, you goddamn idiot!" in a hostile voice. While it may be tempting to shout the latter version, consider that doing so can actually escalate conflict and further endanger you.



With more cities across the US creating bicycle lanes, the numbers of new cyclists out on the roads is growing. And while different states have different degrees of regulations when it comes to cycling, I think there are certain aspects of using the bike lanes that are a matter of common sense and courtesy. I hope my suggestions are useful to new users of bike lanes. Your feedback, whether in agreement or disagreement, is welcome.