Upper Tahquamenon Falls

The “showcase” of Tahquamenon Falls is the Upper Falls, which is about four miles upstream from the Lower Falls. It is larger and more dramatic – it has a drop of 50 feet and is more than 200 feet wide.





But first, I had to slip this in...A “fact shack” has a nice display of information about the falls and an impressive display recognizing the comeback of the gray wolf. I was hypnotized by the stare of this fellow – stuffed and amazingly life-like.



Paved trails from the parking lot lead to the Upper Falls, so it is an easy walk. Several viewing areas along the way provide a good look at the falls.





At the end of the trail is a staircase with 94 (or maybe it was 84, whatever, it was a lot) steps that have to be taken down (and back up). But it's worth the effort to get a close-up view of the magnificent falls.











Returning to the top of the steps and following the path back, I noticed a second pathway that continued south and down to the gorge. At the end I was faced with another staircase - this one of 118 steps - that went down to the river. I hoped that the view would be worth the effort – the temperature was 80 degrees and the humidity was probably 98% - it had rained in the morning.



The views did indeed provide a different perspective of the falls...







It was awesome, in spite of the gloomy, gray, rainy day. Lucky for me, on this day the rain stopped mid-day. Photos were taken on Tuesday August 2nd.

Gourd in Tree

the morning glories weren't the only vine that grew up into a tree. I had a gourd vine grow up into one of my redbud trees. I knew the vine was growing up the tree but hadn't seen any gourd on it. The tree leaves hid the little gourds so well I didn't see them until they were quite large. About a foot tall. I hope the tree can handle the weight. They look like odd decorations hanging in the tree - about 5 in all. And I have about 20 more growing on the ground where they belong.

Selle AnAtomica: My Impressions

[Edited to add: This review is of the older generation Selle Anatomica Titanico; the review of the current model can be found here.]




Some time ago I bought a red Selle Anatomica Titanico saddle, initially to go with a vintage bicycle I had at the time. But when I was loaned a Seven roadbike earlier this summer, the Selle Anatomica migrated onto it instead: It promised to be more comfortable than the bike's native racing saddle and was a perfect match for its red decals. This is how I had the saddle set up on the bike, and I put about 700 miles on it.





Founded in 2007 by the now deceased avid cyclist Tom Milton,Selle Anatomica is a small American manufacturer of leather saddles. The company is now run by the founder's sister, Meredith Milton Evans. Notably different from the other leather saddles on the market, Selle Anatomica offers several potentially attractive selling points. One is the long "anatomic" cut-out, which they claim allows the two sides of the saddle to move independently, thus relieving pressure on soft tissue. The other is the "watershed leather," which refers to the saddle's treatment with a waterproof top layer. The saddles are available in a variety of colours, and there are separate versions rated for heavier and lighter riders. You can read more about the design and specs here.





I purchased my saddle in Spring and since then a couple of changes have been made that I find somewhat confusing but will try to summarise. Selle Anatomica now advertises being made with cro-moly rails, so I am not sure what the rails on my saddle are made of. They also changed the weight criteria, so that what were formerly called the "Clydesdale" saddles and recommended for persons weighting over 180 lb have now become their regular saddles and are recommended for persons over 140 lb. If I understand these changes correctly, then what is now called the "Titanico" model is a slightly different product from the saddle I own, and the version I own is more comparableto what is now called the "Titanico Legacy." However, based on my conversations with the manufacturer I am not entirely certain of this, and I hope that she might clarify in the comments.





My impressions of the Selle Anatomicaunderwent several stages. Initially, the saddle felt so comfortable that I could hardly believe it. The tension of the leather was just right, there was no pressure anywhere, and the cut-out slot worked as advertised. The leather was softer, more pliable and more "hammock-like" than other leather saddles I'd tried and I could feel it moving with me, as opposed to my body moving against it. There was no chafing or soreness what so ever, and there was no breaking in period. It was almost too good to be true.




Then, after about 100 miles, I began to feel a sharp pinching pain in my "soft tissue." The pain would come and go, seemingly at random, and felt as if someone took a pair of pliers to a fold of skin along my crotch. Eventually I realised that the slot somehow began to close in at its narrowest part, pinching my skin right through the padded bicycle shorts. Soon after that I also noticed that (after only 150 miles), the saddle had sagged dramatically. At the time we were unable to determine whether it was the actual leather that sagged, or whether the bolt controlling the tension had unscrewed. But in retrospect it seems to have been the latter, because once we increased the tension and screwed the bolt in tightly, it did not sag again nearly as much.




We assumed that tensioning the saddle would also solve the pinching problem, but the occasional pinching persisted. We tried bending the leather inward in the part of the slot where it pinched, but that did not help. After some investigation, it turned out that a few others reported this same problem with Selle Anatomica saddles, and the recommended solution was to use a knife to enlarge the slot in the spot where it pinched. Just as we were debating whether to do this, the pinching suddenly stopped on its own around mile 400. I kept waiting for it to return, knife at the ready, but it did not. With no explanation, the saddle suddenly felt as good again as on the day I got it. For the remaining 300 miles I rode on the saddle, there has been a gradual and slight loss of tension, but no further problems.




Having ridden with this saddle in the rain multiple times on a bike with no fenders, I can confirm Selle Anatomica's claim that the saddle is absolutely waterproof. The rain just rolled right off without getting absorbed into the leather. However, the "watershed" layer eventually began to wear off - not from the rain, but from my contact with the saddle. You can see this in this picture, which was taken after 400 miles. On the manufacturer's website, it is suggested that the top layer could wear off over time as part of everyday use, and that eventually the owner may need to send the saddle back for re-waterproofing (which is done for an extra fee, as far as I understand). It is not specifed for how many miles the "watershed" leather is designed to last before the top layer needs to be reapplied.



Overall, my impression of Selle Anatomica is a positive, but somewhat frustrated one. If the tension remains as it should and the slot does not pinch, it is the most comfortable saddle I have ridden on. If the watershed layer remains intact, it is the most maintenance-free leather saddle I have experienced. However, neither of these factors has been stable for me, and so I would describe the saddle as high maintenance and rather unpredictable. With its price on par with mid-range Brooks and less than Berthoud, personally I would buy Selle Anatomica again and would be willing to fuss with it just to achieve the level of comfort I know it is capable of giving me. But be aware that this is an unusual saddle, and that user experiences tend to be varied - even more so than with the other leather saddle manufacturers. I hope that Selle Anatomica remains in business and continues to streamline its product. With its unique design, it is a welcome alternative to the other saddles currently on the market.

Bikes, Trains, Sailboats

After months of deliberation and procrastination, we've finally done it: Traveled by train with our bikes. For a while now we have wanted to cycle around Cape Ann, which is a beautiful area about 40 miles North of Boston - accessible by the MBTA Commuter Rail via the Rockport line. A number of people we know have taken this trip with their bikes, so it seemed doable. Also, I was delighted to spot the following notice on the MBTA website: "Commuter Rail re-introduces The Bike Coach on the Rockport line for the summer season." Bike coach! No other information was provided, so I did some research. Turns out they have commuter trains with special cars dedicated entirely to bikes - with bike racks as far as the eye can see, like this.But I could not find any information regarding its schedule, and it seemed that only some weekend trains were Bike Coach trains. A call to the MBTA was fruitless, so we decided to just show up and hope for the best.

The commuter train to Cape Ann leaves from North Station, a 3.25 mile bike ride from our house through some of the busiest parts of Boston.I don't like cycling through the city on a roadbike, but on a Saturday morning the traffic wasn't bad. We arrived early, which was good as there was a line at the ticket machines. There were plenty of other people with bicycles. When our train arrived, the conductor came out and announced that all those with bikes must proceed to the first car of the train. Only those with bikes were allowed in that car. Only those without bikes were allowed in the other cars. The segregation gave us hope that this was the fabled Bike Coach, and we happily headed for the front car along with the procession of other cyclists.

What happened next was rather stunning. The car we were ushered into had no accommodations for bikes what so ever - just a small corner of space at one end where a couple of handicapped seats had been removed. This was definitely not the Bike Coach. Nonetheless, everybody proceeded to drag their bikes on the train - more and more of them, until not only this corner, but the entire aisle was filled with bikes. When even that space ran out, new passengers began to pile their bikes on top of other bikes. Loud clunking noises filled the train as tubes smashed against derailleurs.

Not wanting our bikes damaged in the velo moshpit that ensued, we found a seat near the exit and sort of held our bikes on our laps the entire time. As you might imagine, it was uncomfortable to sit that way for an hour. But the alternative was to accept that a dozen 50lb mountain bikes would be thrown on top of our bicycles - which was not a viable option. So we tried to have a sense of humour about the whole thing and looked forward to reaching our destination while seriously discussing the possibility of Bromptons in the future.

But no sooner had we reached Rockport than the train trauma was forgotten, as we were greeted with perfect weather and glorious coastal views.

The Cape Ann peninsula consists of Rockport, Annisquam Village and Gloucester - each of them with beautiful scenery. Severed from the mainland by the windingAnnisquam River, water views are everywhere.This was our first time in the area and we decided to do an exploratory loop along the coastline instead of a long-distance trip. The Cape Ann loop is about 20 miles, with mild but constant rolling hills, alternating between open water views and tree lined country roads. Especially considering the 4th of July weekend, the area was not crowded. Drivers were courteous everywhere except for the traffic circle in Gloucester, but even that was not too bad. Roads were good on the eastern side of the cape, but terrible on the western side. Navigation was intuitive - just follow the coastline!

My Rivendell is in the midst of a small (but exciting) make-over, so I took the loaner Seven on this trip. Overall it was pretty good, though a burlier bike might have been a better choice on the pothole-ridden roads.We also ventured off road a bit, which was "interesting" on 23mm racing tires!

Cape Ann is even quieter and less commercially developed than we expected, a pleasant surprise. Lots of parks, meadows and nature reserves. Not too many parking lots. And "motel sprawl" is virtually non-existant - at least compared to places like Cape Cod, the NH Seacoast, and much of coastal Maine.

Also, there are apparently sailboat races happening in Rockport - wonderful!

All in all, we loved the area andare now considering staying there for longer, instead of venturing further from home on vacation later this summer. After all - just load up our bikes on the commuter rail, it's so easy!Of course we'd forgotten about our train experience earlier that day. Or at least, we thought, there would surely not be as many bikes on the return trip. Or maybe we would finally get the mythical Bike Coach?

Nope, no such luck. On the return trip, passengers were once again segregated into those with bikes and those without, and this time the "bike car" had a car rack attached in the handicapped seating area. It accommodated 4-5 bikes, tightly squeezed, and was filled as soon as the train began to board.

Minutes later, that pathetic little bike rack was surrounded by dozens of other bikes, stacked and thrown against one another haphazardly.

Exits were blocked, aisles were blocked - no one seemed to care. When passengers with bikes needed to get on or off, they would simply throw the other bikes out of the way and the whole thing was like one huge pile of scrap metal.So we held our bikes on our laps again - hugging them ever closer to our bodies as other passengers kept trying to pile their bikes on top of ours (yes, even while we were holding our bikes on our laps!). It was a madhouse and probably violated all sorts of safety regulations. The MBTA clearly needs to have these alleged Bike Coach cars run with more frequency and on a predictable schedule. As we now understand it, the schedule is random and there is no way to time your trip to ensure that you will get a Bike Coach. Sounds improbable, but that's how it is!

Late in the evening, we rode home from the station along mostly empty city streets, recuperating from the train but also satiated from a day of exploring such a beautiful new place by bicycle. We only cycled 30 miles over all, and the point of the trip was mainly to hang out and get to know the area. Next time we will plan for a longer route.The North Shore is a great starting point for long distance touring: While there is no pleasant bicycle route North out of Boston, from Cape Ann we could just continue to cycle along the coast to Maine. Definitely something to consider, despite the less than ideal commuter rail experience.

What is it like to travel on a train with a bike where you live, and do you do it often?

Violets

Violets, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

They're violets, but they're yellow. In full bloom on Yucca Ridge behind Cal Poly. Close examination of the ridge-top revealed that there are millions of things getting ready to bloom in the coming weeks.

Mount Catherine ..

Scott had the day off and wanted to ski before Thanksgiving. I wanted to burn the calories that I was about to consume, so I happily obliged. The plan if there was good snow was to go yo-yo somewhere and have fun in the powder. However, it looks like we have hit the El Nino segment of our dark months with higher temps. This meant rain at the passes the day previous and a 10000' freezing level on the day of our trip.

Skinning up the slopes of Hyak

So we headed for Mount Catherine with the hopes of a summit. Chad joined us at the Mercer Island Park and Ride and we were on our way. The weather was clear and we saw a beautiful sunrise before arriving at Snoqualmie Pass to low clouds and fog. Instead of taking the Sno Park and forest road in as it seemed tedious. We opted for the skin up Hyak and over the other side. We followed forest roads (Nordic ski trails) down the other side a bit before leaving on a bearing across the North Face. After endless traversing through trees, we got to an open area which we confirmed with the map was the east end of the summit ridge. There were cliffs and no obvious way up, so we traversed more and more which reminded Scott and I about the Ski Patrol Race we had done back in February.

Heading into the trees

We occasionally crossed open slopes and contemplated trying to gain the ridge to the summit but we were having little luck. Our difficulties were exacerbated by the constant fog which made seeing ahead not easy and gave us little incentive to try and head up only to be confronted by cliffs. So we maintained a fairly level traverse and then we started seeing flatter terrain. We finally made it near Windy Pass and eventually saw a sign with an arrow pointing in that direction. There was a weather monitoring station there too, and some blue diamond trail markers. We stopped for lunch. (It was around 1pm.) The sun just barely came out briefly enough for us to see our shadows. Then we deskinned for a short ski down to another road. At this point we had forsaken our summit attempt and were content with a circumnavigation.

A more open area

Unfortunately due to the poor sloppy snow conditions and the ungroomed state of the road, going downhill on the road took almost as much effort as going uphill. We worked hard to make our way out and after it seemed like there would be no more downhill, I gave up on the skinless skis and stopped to put my skins back on as it seemed they would offer me better propulsion. They did, but Scott and Chad were out of site, and I did not catch up with them until the final downhill to the parking lot in the Hyak ski area. (Which was in more disappointing slop.)

Boulder field

Overall, I was happy to get out. The weather wasn't great, but that wasn't really a big deal. We knew going into it that the snow wasn't going to be so good for skiing, but it was more about the journey. Even though the road out was tiring and tedious, it was still better than being on snowshoes. Plus I think this is the first time I have circumnavigated a peak. Cool.

The road out

Do Cities Need Bike Lawyers?

For some time now I have seen references to "bike lawyers" on various cycling websites, and wondered whether this was a genuinely useful service or a gimmick. Do bicyclists really need a special brand of lawyers, or are lawyers just trying to capitalize on the momentum of the bicycle culture?




My skepticism softened a couple of years ago, as I got my first glimpse into how powerful this profession can potentially be in the world of bicycle advocacy. I was living in Vienna at the time and was introduced by several friends to the local bike lawyer -Johannes Pepelnik. Well known for his annual bicycle-themed street parties, for representing cyclists pro bono, and for publishing several books on bicyclists' rights under Austrian law, he is a well-liked and respected figure in the Viennese cycling community. More importantly, he is credited with helping change the balance of power of the city's cyclist-driver relationship in the bicyclist's favour. That struck me as pretty significant.




More recently I became acquainted with Josh Zisson of Bike Safe Boston - Boston's own bike lawyer and creator of the Bicyclist's Accident Report cards - and we've since spoken a lot about the role this profession can play in American cities. Obviously, bicycle law specialists provide paid services and profit off of them; that is how they earn their living. But they can also benefit cyclists in a number of ways with no cost involved.




In the US, bicycle law is an informal specialty within what's known as personal injury law. And typically personal injury lawyers get paid only if and when their clients receive a financial settlement from the party at fault. This means that consultations with bicycle lawyers tend to be free of charge and cyclists can approach them for legal advice at no cost.




But in a more general sense, when bicycle law specialists establish themselves in a city, their advertising campaigns often go hand-in-hand with promoting cyclists' rights and educating the public about those rights - either on their websites, via community outreach, or on various on-line forums. And in a sense, spreading this information in a way that is comprehensive to a layperson, is a public service: Thanks to bike lawyers' promotional materials, cyclists can easily look up answers to questions about bicycle law in their home state; they can be better informed.




Finally, I would argue that the prominent existence of a bike lawyer in a community can act as a deterrent for motorists - simply by making them aware that there is someone around who is eager to go to battle against them on the side of the cyclist. Once in a while there are articles published that ask why so few drivers who injure and kill cyclists get convicted. The answers vary, but the bottom line is that there are no real incentives for motorists not to hit cyclists if they know the legal system favours them no matter what. By aggressively advertising their services, bicycle lawyers actually have the power to change that perception.




All of these are reasons why I am in favour of community-minded bicycle law specialists, and believe that the more they promote their services, the better it is for everyone. Maybe some day, fear of litigation will make cautious, courteous motorist behaviour common practice.

Riding a 1940s Mercian

One of my most vivid memories from Northern Ireland is standing outside Chris Sharp's house, staring at a dozen Mercian bicycles lined up on the front lawn. The rainbow of their frames stood out in vivid contrast to the wall of dark pine trees behind and the gray skies overhead.






Rain was coming down - slowly at first, then in earnest. Fog set in. As water dripped from the frames and a milky mist began to surround us, it looked as if someone had spilled tubes of paint onto the lawn. What a sight.





Since the time he was old enough to save up for his first roadbike, Chris Sharp has been accumulating Mercians. There is just something about them he enjoys and feels is special. A familiar story!





Several decades later, his Mercian collection includes road, touring and track bikes, a mixte, and several time trial machines, as well as catalogues and paraphernalia from the early days of the Mercian Cycles shop.





The magnificent spread I saw on the lawn was not his entire collection; there is more in storage and elsewhere. But it was nonetheless stunning and provided beautiful examples of the legendary machines throughout the years.






Chris Sharp's bikes do not get babied. They see rain, they are taken to events, they get ridden by him and others. Which did I want to ride? How about the earliest example, a machine from the 1940s? Never mind the downpour and the fog.






Considering that Mercian Cycles set up shop in 1946, seeing this early machine was rather exciting. Chris's brother Keith was curious to try it, though I was reluctant - imagine crashing something like this!





Though the exact year of the bicycle's production is unknown, most likely it is 1947. The paint and components are not original; the bike underwent several cosmetic changes in the course of its existence. The frame itself however has remained unaltered. Chris bought the bicycle in Derby, England - from Mercian Cycles directly when the shop was under its previous ownership. The current restoration was done by Mercian, and the build was done by Chris using vintage English components.







It is a shame that the original paint and decals could not be preserved. The original head badge would have looked like this.





But the original lugwork can still be admired.






I love the older fork crowns as well.






Though cosmetically battered over the years, the frame itself had remained in good condition and the restored bike is entirely ridable.





Chris had it set up as a fixed gear for himself, but had put a freewheel on it to make it easier for others to test ride. The size is just about perfect for the Sharp brothers.






Keith Sharp is a bicycle racer and rides mostly modern machines, though appreciates his brother's vintage collection. He had never ridden this particular Mercian before, but loved it when he tried it. "The ride quality! It is very comfortable, you really must ride it!" I confess that it took a bit of convincing to get me on this bike. It was too large for me and I was unsure that I'd be able to use the brake levers effectively. Also, it was raining! But finally, my curiosity to learn what one of the earliest Mercians ever made felt like on the road won over and I tried it.






Very glad I did - what a bicycle. Yes, there is something about the ride quality. A steady, comfortable and almost effortless ride, gliding over rough road surfaces and yearning for uphill stretches. The bike was surprisingly easy to maneuver despite being too large for me. Once I started riding it, I wanted to keep going. It also felt oddly similar to my own Mercian back home. It makes no sense to believe that there is a distinct ride quality associated with Mercians that spans decades of production, despite the generational change of builders and the use of different tubing and geometry. And yet the Mercian owners and collectors I've spoken to quietly believe this, while conceding that its unlikelihood. I do not plan to collect Mercian bicycles, but I enjoy learning about their history and interacting with their enthusiastic owners. It was a treat to ride a Mercian of 1940s vintage - one of the earliest made. More pictures here.