Ah, the joys of winter!

Of all of the family pictures in Mom's albums, this is the only one I found that was taken outside during the winter. It was the winter of 1964 and shows me and my little sister. It looks like I lost my foot, or at the very least, my boot! The houses in the background belong to the neighbors.

Winter used to be fun! Really, it was. Tromping in the wind-sculpted snow drifts. Going sledding down the big hill. Ice skating on the river. Building snow forts with my brothers. Snow-ball fights. Playing outside for so long that it took hours to get warmed up again. Hot chocolate, with marshmallows. Ah, the joys of youth and playing in a winter wonderland!

An early spring snowfall at our house at Karen Kove, north of Columbia City, March ...

My front porch. December ... It almost looks like this today. New fallen snow is pretty, even, dare I say, beautiful. That is, unless, like today, I had to go somewhere. Yesterday we got about 8" of the fluffy white stuff, which, considering conditions elsewhere, isn't all that much. But the wind was blowing too. I certainly didn't enjoy driving this morning on the slippery, snow-packed roads in below zero temperatures (with a -25°F wind chill). Brr.

For me, the best thing about winter? Spring is not all that far away...

The old crabapple tree at Karen Kove, spring of 1999.

Beavers on the ice

Last night I drove to a local lake near my house to see if the beavers were active yet. As I approached the lake I could see an opening in the ice near the beaver lodge and figured they would be out. Sure enough, as I got closer I could see two large lumps on top of the ice near the water... it was the beavers! I spent about an hour sitting on the bank of the lake watching and photographing the beaver family. There were four total... the parents and two young ones. They sure were fun to watch as they took turns sitting on the ice and going for a swim. We got a bunch of rain this morning so yesterday may have been the only opportunity to watch them on the ice. The ice might be gone today!

Gunks Routes: CCK Direct (5.9)

(Photo: A free soloist-- obviously not me!-- on the famous white billboard face of CCK in August .)



One year ago in mid-March I was more fit than I'd been in a long time. But I was still tentative on the rock as the year began. I remember stumbling my way up Te Dum (5.7) for my first climb of the season, with the rock and the gear both feeling mysterious to me after the long, snowy winter.



I hoped this year would be different. I'd grown so much as a climber over the course of . And this year we didn't really have much of a winter. There was no huge layoff between climbing days.



I was encouraged about my prospects when I got out to climb on February 1. On that day I felt fine, romping up several moderates on what might turn out to be my last day in the Gunks with Adrian. (In an act of unspeakable betrayal he moved back to Vancouver at the end of February.)



I didn't push any limits that day but the rock felt good, the gear familiar. Was it possible that maybe I could begin this season where I left off last year, and not regress several grades?



I got the chance to find out for sure on Saturday, March 17, when I went climbing in the Gunks with Dana Bartlett.



Dana and I had never met in person before, but we had corresponded by email. I was already familiar with him from his regular contributions to gunks.com and mountainproject.com. I knew him to be a strong climber of long experience. I hoped we'd have a good time together and that I might learn a thing or two.



I was feeling good on Saturday morning, having climbed a bit the day before. It had been a crummy day on Friday, starting with rain, then fog and wet rock, finally drying out and becoming nice in the late afternoon. I was out with my friend Franz, who has climbed inside for years but who has almost no outdoor experience. Because the weather was so poor we mostly toproped in the Uberfall, but despite the very limited nature of our climbing day I still took some confidence from the fact that I felt so natural on the routes we did. My footwork was solid; I was climbing well.



I decided I should just pick a landmark climb and go for it on Saturday with Dana. I quickly settled on CCK Direct, one of the ultraclassic three-star 5.9 climbs I never got around to in .



When I proposed it to Dana in the parking lot he was enthusiastic, saying that from what he knew about my recent climbing history, I'd be fine on it. This was just the kind of encouragement I needed! We gathered up our stuff and headed off down the carriage road.



We set up at the base of Erect Direction (pitch one is 5.8) and I led upward. I thought back to , when I'd had one of my best-ever days at the Gunks with Liz, onsighting both the regular non-direct CCK (5.7+) and Bonnie's Roof (5.9). I'd begun that day too with Erect Direction, figuring it was good to start with a 5.8-- an easier warm-up would inevitably still feel difficult and might only lead me to question myself. When Erect Direction went well that day in it had set the stage for further success and I hoped it would do the same for me again on Saturday.



I think of the first pitch of Erect Direction as a solid 5.8. It doesn't have any particularly hard moves on it but it is steep and continuous. It has many thoughtful sections and is quite pumpy for a good two-thirds of the way to the GT Ledge. It is to my mind a slightly easier version of the classic 5.8 testpiece Double Crack. It is a high quality pitch, a destination in its own right with good pro despite a few loose blocks.



It went down like butter on Saturday, making me even more primed for CCK Direct.





(Photo: The one and only Dana Bartlett, topping out on the 5.8 pitch one of Erect Direction.)



There was no need to consult the guidebook about CCK Direct. It seemed clear to me where to go. The opening overhang, which Dick rates as 5.8 PG/R, was my main concern. The last thing I wanted to do was to start the day by going splat on the GT Ledge. I'd followed Adrian up this part of the route in , however, and I thought the moves were pretty straightforward. (On that occasion Adrian had finished on the standard 5.7+ CCK, so I hadn't previewed any more of the Direct version.) The pro was a little bit down and to the left as you pulled the first roof, but it wasn't that bad, I thought.



Before setting off I asked Dana if he had any advice, and he said that I should save my blue # 3 Camalot for the end of the pitch, and that I'd be really happy to have it at the final crux overhang. This turned out to be very helpful information!



I was ready. I had the clever idea of leading up to the horizontal beneath the first overhang, placing a cam immediately to protect me while I leaned over, and then putting in another cam as far over to the right as I could reach. Then I back-cleaned the first cam and stepped down to move across to the actual moves.



This worked out well, but I probably should have put in two pieces when I leaned over instead of one. I later regretted having only a single piece between myself and the anchor when I did the first crux.



In any event I made it through the first overhang with no issues and breathed a sigh of relief.



I messed up heading into crux number two, the overhangs below the white billboard-like CCK face. I headed up a little too far to the left. I reached the bottom of the billboard, looked up and saw no holds, then looked to the right and saw all the chalk I'd neglected to follow. This caused me to panic for just a second.



I was getting pumped and there was no time to waste. I quickly downclimbed to my last cam, regrouped and headed back up the correct way. I'm sure this part of the pitch is really 5.7 or 5.8, but I made it harder for myself with my route-finding mistake. Luckily, once I pulled over the overhangs and found myself standing beneath the famous CCK crack, I could relax, clip a fixed tricam and shake it all out.



And then I had to shift gears from the jug-hauling overhangs to the exposed off-vertical thin climbing required by the CCK face. A few beautiful moves later, I was at the top of the crack, where one grunty pull got me above the billboard and below the huge roof at the top of the cliff.



The final challenge was still to come. To my surprise it turned out to be more mental than physical. It is so comfortable in that little alcove beneath the overhang, and the hold that takes you left to the exit notch is so small, you don't want to move! You can see a jug out further left and up, but it appears you have to step down and out left to get there. As you test the little hold over and over again, considering the move, it seems like you are taking a leap into the abyss. The footholds disappear. The exposure is insane.



I must have tested the hold a dozen times. I considered any alternative I could think of. There is chalk on some tiny horizontal cracks above, but I couldn't use them. Eventually I had to take the leap, step down and over, and trust I'd find whatever I needed when I got out there.



I needn't have been so worried. The pro was good. Once I finally made the step, I had the jug in a second. One more move up and I could slam in my blue Camalot. (Thank you Dana!) And then the biggest move of the pitch took me over the final overhanging block to the top.



What a way to start the season! I think CCK Direct may be the best pitch I have ever climbed. The good stuff just keeps coming and coming. After the steepness of two overhangs you have to deal with a totally new challenge, the thin sequence to get established in the perfect crack up that blank CCK face. The moves and the position are sublime. But it isn't over! The final crux notch puts the cherry on the cake.



Last fall I would have viewed this pitch as a fitting capper for the whole year. I'm so psyched to begin the season with such a great milestone.

Achingly Upright

Longer commutes over the past few months have given me the opportunity to ride a variety of upright bikes over varying distances. And while achieving a particular fit is less important to me on upright bikes than it is on roadbikes, I still have preferences. For instance, my ideal handlebar height is on the low side. I began to notice that fairly early on, lowering the bars on my city bikes further with each passing year.I'd assumed this growing preference had to do with performance: That maybe as I picked up handling skills and began to ride faster, lower handlebars just made more sense. And in part that's probably true. But lately I've realised that it's also a matter of physical comfort.



Riding several bikes with the bars set higher than I prefer, I notice that my back starts to hurt after some miles. It's a distinct kind of dull, gnawing pain, somewhere around the shoulder blade area. On bikes where the bars are set lower, I don't experience the pain. And having moved the handlebars on one of the "painful" bikes down an inch, the pain disappeared. I've tried this a few times now over the past couple of months with the same result: When the bars are too high, my back aches.



The downside to having a city bike set up the way I like, is that other women who try it usually tell me the handlebars feel too low.In the end, it's about finding our personal optimal position. And too upright can be just as achy as too leaned forward.

Autumn Climbing

A small break of warm and clear weather, after the major storm cycle, let multiple teams summit early this week. A climbing ranger climbed on Saturday morning and reported 'great-for the end of the season-conditions' on the DC. Climbing rangers at Camp Schurman had a similar report about the Emmons/Winthrop route.

End of season operations are underway. Helicopter flights for refilling propane tanks and human waste removal occurred last week over the mountain. Stairs to the half-doors on the public shelter are being put in place and the solar dehydrating toilets at Camp Muir will be closed. The larger ADA compliant vault toilet with a half-door will be opened at Camp Muir for use during the winter.

Be sure to double check registration requirements for the dates of your climb. The transition from summer registration regulations to winter registration regulations has begun. See the regs. link to the right for more info.

New Kids on the City Block

It is always exciting when a new bicycle company appears on the market, and so it was doubly so when two new brands of city bikes were introduced at Interbike this year: the Toronto-based Simcoe and the Detroit-based Shinola.





The Shinola display greeted visitors as they entered the front hall of the show. Above the yellow French-inspired city bike were the intriguing words "built in Detroit." Walking past the display several times, I listened to attendees debate whether this claim could be true. After all, many bicycle manufacturers state that a bike is "built" locally, when what they really mean is assembled. If it were true, however, wouldn't it be wonderful and ironic to bring domestic bike production to a city known for the former glory of its automotive industry. That was the gist of the buzz.






Later I spotted a company representative and spoke to them about the bikes. Some may recognise the Shinola name as a brand of shoe polish from the early 20th century. Recently, the name was resurrected and turned into a lifestyle brand that plans to sell not only bicycles, but also watches, leather goods and notebooks - all made in the US.






In the bike industry that kind of approach does raise some eyebrows. Can a manufacturer be serious about bicycles if it is not their sole focus? Then again, there are those brands that start with bicycles, then expand into bags, clothing and other items. In that sense, the main difference in Shinola's approach is that they intend to do this from the start.





As for the bicycles themselves, yes the frames will indeed be handbuilt in Detroit. As I understand it, the initial prototypes were built by Ira Ryan and Tony Pereirain Portland, OR, but production models will be made by Waterford. Prototypes of the first bikes - the diamond and step-through Bixby - were on display at Interbike.






There are some handsome details on these steel frames, most notably the biplane fork crown.






Points of entry for the brake and shifter cables are subtly incorporated into the frame design.





The copper headbadge is embossed with the bicycle model name.







One benefit to the company being involved in the production of other products, is its ability to outfit the bikes with its own accessories - such as these Shinola leather grips.






To create the Bixby, Shinola recruited designer Sky Yaeger - who has previously worked at Bianchi and Swobo and is credited for bicycle models familiar to many. Reading that she was responsible for the Bianchi Milano design, I realised that the curves of the Bixby remind me of that aesthetic. I wonder how they will handle racks and lighting once the bicycles go into production.








While I can't speak for the ride quality, the finish and components of the Shinolo Bixby bicycles are of a higher caliber than what one will see on a typical city bike in stores today. This, combined with the Detroit-built frames, will make for a high retail price. It remains to be seen whether customers will appreciate the bicycles enough to pay it.






At the other end of the spectrum, Simcoe's focus is on classic, affordable city bikes. It is the new house brand of the Canadian bicycle distributor Forth Floor. North American retailers have been familiar with Forth Floor for years, as they've been responsible for importing a variety of European city bike brands, including the latest brand to hit North America - Bobbin. The high demand for Bobbin's looks/quality/affordability ratio is in part what inspired them to start their own project. As a distributor, Forth Floor has gained a reputation for being knowledgable, reliable and easy to work with - which makes many optimistic about the success of their manufacturing practice.






The introductory line of Simcoe bicycles is uncomplicated: traditional diamond and step-through frames made in Taiwan, equipped with swept-back handlebars, fenders, rear racks, chainguards and a choice of 3 or 8 speed gearing options.






Like the Shinolo frames, Simcoe's are welded, but the forks feature attractive double-plated crowns. It is no secret that I love these crowns; I am pleased to see them become a trend again.






The models will be available in a small range of colours, both bright and subdued.






The slate gray step-through is probably my favourite.






Complementing Simcoe's new line of bikes, Beacon is developing some basic accessories - most notably these fits-all-racks panniers.






"Through this ride, freedom..."






These are all simple, been-done-before ideas; nothing radical or new. But retailers are paying attention, because frankly there is demand for more bikes of this category without the hassles and the markups that come with importing from Europe.






Interacting with the fellows at Forth Floor is a pleasure as usual. I learned that Donny (on the left) has recently taken a framebuilding course with Mike Flanigan and made himself a nice touring frame.






Steve is working on a side project making tiny, affordable LED bike lights (Beacon Bike Lights) that can be zip tied to any part of the bike.






The guys are, first and foremost, cyclists. They love bicycles, all kinds of bicycles, and they communicate a sense of commitment to being in the industry for the long haul.






How that will translate into the quality, appeal and sustainability of the Simcoe brand remains to be seen, but retailers seem cautiously optimistic.




Both Simcoe and Shinola represent the North American market increasingly embracing transportation cycling and seeking to establish itself as independent from European culture and European bikes. These brands will be welcome additions to Linus, Public, Urbana, Handsome Cycles, Heritage Bicycles, Brooklyn Cruiser and other American-based companies with a focus on city bikes. I will share information on pricepoints once the figures are available, and will hopefully get a chance to test ride both bikes.

Walk Way

On the main trail to the very tip-top of the Sandia Mountains is this paved walkway with handrails for safety. It was very windy on the day we were there and the railing and it was necessary for me to hold onto the railing. Others weren't but I needed to.