Bowled Over

Ash-throated Flycatcher Bird

When I was a child my mom always wanted to know what kind of bird it was that made a noise that, to her, sounded as if it was saying 'come here, come here'. Since she thought it sounded like it was saying that I have always thought so, too. We could always hear the bird but could never get a good look at one. Usually we only hear this bird when we would go camping, or hiking in the mountains or desert. Since we have moved to the Tumbleweed Crossing I have discovered what the bird is. It is the Ash-throated Flycatcher. There are lots of different flycatcher birds all over the world and several different kinds in the US. All are similar and I didn't know what the proper name for our kind of flycatcher was until recently when I finally found it on the internet. These interesting little birds are kind-of built like a swallow only larger. They are mostly grayish on back, wings, head, and tail, but have a dull yellowish color to their belly area. Males and females look alike. They disappear in the fall and winter. I assume they migrate south probably to somewhere in Mexico. But the come here to nest. I usually have one or two pairs near my house each summer. They usually build their nests in a cholla cactus just on the edge of our property but this year they built in a cottonwood tree next to the horse pens, and hay shed. Every time I walk by it they fly off yelling 'come here, come here'. But return quickly and watch what I am doing as I feed, water, or pet horses. I had seen the nest before I knew which bird was using it. I had thought it might be an English sparrow nest as it had so many pieces of string, paper, tumbleweed sticks, and a piece of cloth in it. It was a couple of days before I actually saw a flycatcher on it which can't be seen in the photo of the nest. I welcome all flycatchers as they eat lots and lots and lots of flying insects especially flies which is where they get their name. I have seen them perched on a tree or power line and suddenly fly down to scoop up an unseen insect and then back to their perch they go. They will do this over and over. They come in to the water I keep in hubcaps in the back yard each evening.

The Sneeker Waterpoort

There is not much information available about Sneek’s medieval water port or gateway (located in Sneek, Friesland in the north of the Netherlands). It was believed that the port was built around 1492 by an unknown architect and its primary function was to control the water flowing into the town. Back then cities and towns are built around thick stone walls for protection from enemy invasion, and in the Netherlands because of its quagmire topography, they make use of the water as moats, serving an additional line of defence.

I saw this poem engraved on a block of stone, written in Fries by Marcel van der Meulen on the trattoir just beside the water port. Fries is a language spoken in the northern part of the Netherlands, primarily in the Friesland province where Sneek is a part of. It is a bit similar to Dutch of course so I can understand some of it (written but not spoken) but not all.

Here is my meagre English translation (in Fries or Dutch they actually rhyme but not in English, too bad):

Butter, bread and milk in our cup
Who cannot say this is not a real Sneker
I am though, because I live in the Water Port
There in ‘hewwe jim’ it was heard (this line I am having a hard time translating, help!)
It is a very old building that I adore
Boats, canals and the city
Sneek will always be my biggest love

And here are a few more fotos of the famous Sneeker Waterpoort:


In Madurodam (The Hague), the mini-Holland park or the smallest city in the Netherlands, there is a little replica of the Sneeker Waterpoort, scaled down to 1:25. I think I even have a foto of it, hmm, need to search my archives. Other replicas are to be found in China (Holland Village in Shenyang), Japan (Huis ten Bosch in Nagasaki) and Denmark (Legoland in Billund).

Many say that the Sneeker Waterpoort, one of the great examples of medieval architecture, is the Netherlands most beautiful water gateway. I quite agree.

We Have a House

Yesterday I had a conversation with someone and in the midst of the conversation the other person said some things that left me in a state of being completely stunned. They shared their view on some aspects of our life and what they believed to be true. Now, this is just a part of life. People spout their views and assumptions all the time. Some more than others.




This was a person who has been around us enough, though, that I didn't realize until that conversation they did have many assumptions about us and our life that were just not true. At all. I started to share the truth as I see it, but then a voice inside of me said: Do.Not.Even.Try so I hit the backspace button and deleted it and just let them know I heard what they shared.




They then went on to share something they did, that I think they were sharing was the same as how we have lived for four years now, and given it was not even in the same ballpark, my brain really went on full tilt. I'll be honest, I'm still reeling from that conversation trying to truly wrap my brain around some parts of it.




As I was pondering it today, Dr. Phil's "you either get it or you don't and you're not getting it" popped into my head. Sometimes we just don't get it in life. All of us. But then I pondered my experiences where I have wanted to get it and am starting to get it and just need a bit more information to understand it. So while Dr. Phil might have some wisdom on that topic, I don't think it represents the whole truth. Sometimes we are simply on our way to getting it and in between those two places.




I remembered how much research I did before we decided to be full timers. I remember how it took us about two years from the time we first considered it, until we really did it. And I needed, desperately needed in fact, to hear how it really worked. I wanted to get it. I just needed others to be willing to share the nitty gritty of it all. I needed to know this was not only possible, but what would our lives look life if we did do it.




I had this fear that doing this might be this unstable, bizzaro world experience...one that would have me deeply regretting it. I wondered just how much doing "this" would change everything. We are on year four with this now and so today I understand a few things that I didn't know then.




To me, how we live our life is very simple and easy.




We have a house. This is what it looks like:



To us, it is just like our last house that looked like this:



It is a place where we eat, sleep and hang out some. No, the houses are not exactly the same. They both served the same purposes in our lives though. One has wheels that allows it to go with us as we move from place to place. The other doesn't. We sold the one because it didn't have wheels. We bought the other because it did. That's it.




Other aspects of our lives are pretty much the same. We needed love, peace, joy, community and family before. We need those things now. We needed food, shelter and some material goods before and we do now. We needed income of some sort to provide those things then, and we do now.




We had a job that provided income when we lived in our last house. And even though we had an unexpected job and income loss last year, except for three weeks in between "jobs", we have had a job that we worked to provide income since we moved into our current house.




We aren't rich. We aren't retired. And as much as we joked last year about maybe having to get a J.O.B., that was about us being spoiled and both being able to be home all day long with our kids while making money and today one of us leaves the house for some hours of our day to make money. Someday both of us might have to leave our house for a few hours each day to make money. While that is not our preference, we are mature enough to roll with that if it does happen. That might happen no matter what kind of house we choose to live in.




We would and do pick jobs that we think would work well for us. We think that is only fair to ourselves and our employers. We have both been in positions of management so we get how truly awful it is for a place to have employees that aren't happy there. So we have pretty much always done that. Again, no difference there in our view.




For those that are considering this lifestyle and do wonder, how does it work when you are a bit younger than the normal full timer: if you have a job that you can do from home, you most likely have a job that you can do from a home with wheels-even if you do move around with that house. Yes, you might have to figure out what is necessary to do so, but isn't that true of any job? Jobs with insurance are available to both. Jobs that don't have insurance are available to both.




If we want to settle down meaning stay in one place, we will and more importantly, we can. We are doing that now in fact.




If we want to move around, we can.




We don't think that limits our options because we have done the math and when you have a house that will allow for both, we think that means that increases your options. In this economy, we think it is a smart choice to increase your options as much as possible. If we were in a different field of work, this might not apply. We trust most adults to be able to tell the difference between the two. We believe we know the difference between the two. If we didn't, we would not have been able to live for four years on the road.




Even when I thought I'd try this for a year, we did not do this to get a vacation. We did not want or need to escape our "life", even if for a season, so there was no need for a vacation. We had a goal long before doing this to not live a life that we needed a vacation from. We reached that goal long before we ever did this.




We did this to take our life that we already enjoyed and moved it to this space to continue to enjoy it. We hoped we would more fully enjoy it. I have shared time and time again, we just took our life we already had on the road. And for the most part, it really is that simple.




We did want less of some things (stress, material goods and working hard to maintain those material goods) and wanted more of other things (time with our kids and each other) and we wanted to see our country up close and personal and learn tons while doing so.




In many ways, even though we took our life on the road, we do live a very different life today. But it still isn't so much that we strive to not live our old life.




It's that we fully immerse ourselves in our new one. And in doing so, we have in fact experienced a whole new way of living, being and interacting with each other and the world than we did before. Wouldn't it be wise to do that no matter what your circumstances though?




For us, we took the route that worked for us because of who we are. We have seen others leap and do this in ways that would have struck terror in my heart. We have seen others do it in ways that we deeply admire and still it would strike terror in my heart to do the same.




We do what works for us today. We see others doing the same. My guess is both of us are pretty much the same people we were before and both of us have grown and changed in some ways since. Again, I think that is true of people that live in houses too. It really is that simple.

Another View

This is a view of the Indian Market Place from the other end.

A Hint of Autumn

Monday afternoon. The first "bright" color I've seen in the area. There's still hope for a colorful fall after all.

Made in Somerville: The Joys of a Locally Built Bicycle

I tried to hint at this subtly in previous posts, but judging by some recent conversations I was a toosubtle. So it is time to announce this formally: I am getting a custom bicycle from Royal H. Cycles.




[Customer's bike, detail. Image from Royal H. Cycles]



No, please relax - it is not the track bike mentioned earlier! My Royal H. will be a classic Randonneur-style mixte, inspired by the early French constructeurs: fully lugged, with twin lateral stays and a touring geometry. Even as I write it, I do not really believe it. Yes, it will be utterly glorious, and no, I cannot afford it. But I've been finding some creative ways to scrimp, save, and earn extra cash, and it's all coming together nicely (the deposit system really helps as well!). The frame will be ready in November, and then I will spend the winter fitting it with components. In the springtime, the complete bicycle shall emerge just as the crocuses come into bloom and the swallows sing their song.





However, what I really want to talk about is not the bicycle itself, but the experience of having it custom made by a local framebuilder. As far as "local" goes, you can't really get more local than this: The Royal H. studio (pictured above) is a 5-minute bike ride from my house, so my bicycle is being built in my own neighborhood. There is nothing quite like this.





I met the framebuilder Bryan Hollingsworth through Open Bicycle, after I saw a purple Royal H. bike belonging to one of their customers and was taken with its elegant styling. "Who made that?" I asked. And the rest was history. I met Bryan in person, discussed my ideas with him, and it was immediately clear that he understood exactly what I was talking about and would enjoy making it. It was an exciting, high-energy first meeting and in the end I had no doubt that this person was the right framebuilder for me. This might seem trite, but it can be very helpful for the framebuilder to get a good sense of the customer's individual style by interacting with them. And getting a sense of your individual style will enable them to use their creativity to make a truly personalised bicycle.





The proximity of Royal H. has also allowed me the unique opportunity to visit my frame at various stages of completion, watch it develop, and give Bryan feedback to any questions or new ideas that came up. I have held the different parts of my frame in my hands before it was a frame - the lugs, the tubes, the dropouts, the little braze-ons! - and I watched Bryan arrange them on his drawing-board. This was a thrilling experience, and it has deepened my sense of connectedness to this bicycle. It is definitely my frame, I was there as it evolved! Thanks to Bryan's generous narration about his process, I have also learned a bit about how bicycles are built in the meantime.





To add a few words about Bryan Hollingsworth himself: For the past three years, he has been a framebuilder for Seven Cycles, where, interestingly enough, he specialises in carbon fiber frames. Recently Bryan has branched out into a private frame building practice and started Royal H., with a focus on classic lugged steel bicycles. The art nouveau aesthetic of his work appeals to me very much, and I often find myself admiring his frames even when the bicycle is completely inappropriate for me - like the cream track bike I mentioned earlier.




[Track bike detail. Image from Royal H. Cycles]



And notice how simple everything here is: No over-the-top lugwork, no eccentric curvature, just a classic, minimalist track frame. But to me, it stands out from other track frames.





Of course my mixte will look very different from the cream track bike, but it will have a similar art nouveau aesthetic and, hopefully, the same feel of understated elegance.





My frame is a fairly complicated one, and there are many special things about it that you will not see on any other bicycle (like these custom dropouts!). Bryan has impressed me on more than one occasion with his ability to combine innovative solutions with classic looks, and I will no doubt dedicate several future posts to boring you with the technical details and pornographic close-ups of my bicycle. But not to worry, that won't be for another couple of months.




[Customer's bike, detail. Image from Royal H. Cycles]



In the meanwhile, I encourage you to get to know your local framebuilders, or to find independent framebuilders in an area of the country that has personal meaning for you. Boston, Massachusetts holds a special place in the history of bicycle manufacturing since the late 1800's, and Somerville in particular was home to several legendary builders, including Fat City Cycles and Merlin Metal Works in the 1980s and '90s. In fact, the Union Square neighborhood where Open Bicycle and Royal H. are located was the former home of these manufacturers. Today, the Boston area boasts famed artisanal framebuilders such as Peter Mooney and Mike Flanigan, the internationally renown Seven Cycles and Independent Fabrications, the innovative Geekhouse, and attention-worthy young builders including Icarus and Royal H. When the context and history of your bicycle's production are meaningful to you, owning it will feel truly special. I plan to have future posts dedicated to local framebuilders, to the framebuilding process, and to the history of bicycle manufacturing in Boston, and I hope that these will be of interest.