I have a funny habit of touching bicycles. It starts innocently enough: First a glance, then a closer look, then a quick stroke or two. But before I know it I am engaged in an orgy of tactile exploration that has been known to shock by-standers. Slowly and affectionately I will run my hand over the frame, tracing the outlines of the lugwork, closely examining the joints, touching the braze-ons one by one, visibly savouring every moment of it. Those who know me in person tease me about this, and apparently even discuss it behind my back good-naturedly. At Interbike last year, I was giving a bike a furtive fondle when the manufacturer snuck up behind me, laughing: "They toldme you were going to do this!"
When it comes to other people's bikes, I do ask permission - much as I would ask for permission to pet someone's dog or cat. "May I?" My voice andmy outstretched handtremble with anticipation. The owner is amused and delighted, if somewhat taken aback by the intensity of my interest.
But though my case may be extreme, I am hardly alone in the bike-fondling affliction. Even without asking, strangers will often stroke my bikes absent-mindedly - their hands drawn to a leather saddle, a headbadge, some shellacked twine, lugwork. "This part here..." an acquaintance suddenly said mid-conversation, pointing to the top of my bike's fork. "It's so... cake-like! What is it for?" Excitedly I began to explain about fork crowns, but stopped myself as the poor person's eyes glazed over. They didn't want to know. But they did want to touch.
I think that bicycles - particularly bicycles with all sorts of interesting or organic-looking bits on them - tend to invite tactile attention. Say what you will about looks mattering or not mattering, but when a bicycle draws us in physically, surely that is a good thing.
Are you touchy-feely when it comes to bikes? Do others tend to touch your bike, and do you mind?
Stormy and Trave eating together.
This year the actual Solstice is on June 20 at 23:09, however its effects will be noticed for a much longer period of time and are in fact currently being observed. Since the 20th is a weekday you can actually make it to the Fremont Fair and the associated parties going on this weekend, get down, recover and STILL get out in the wilderness or wherever else you enjoy being for the actual day of Solstice. (Just assuming wilderness is your thing since this is a blog about climbing Mount Rainier.)
The German DAV report and its pictures discussed in this entryare clear as to the issue but sadly I can't copythe context. If anyone finds a version I can copy and paste [thank you Joe for the jpegs]please let me know.
A Grivel Helix with the black knob and two BD Express, red knob up and the yellow knob tucked in. Note the Grivel hanger is reversed compared to how it would actually be placed in the ice for this photo.
Obvious difference in the Grivel horizontal hanger and BD's vertical hanger. Thisis not the position the Grivel screw would normally be placed but 180 degrees reversed. Knob up on Grivel. Knob down for BD.
A long 2.7mm "blade" before you get to the knurled aluminum knob on the BD screw.
Beal 7.8 Ice twin on the BD knob which when left open caused a sheath failure in the fall. 
Though I've lived in many different places over the course of my life, they have been mostly in Europe. Within the US my travels have been limited to the East Coast, and my trip to Las Vegas for Interbike was the first time I'd ventured west of Pennsylvania. Popular culture is saturated with images of Vegas, and I thought I knew pretty well what to expect: casinos, bright lights, neon signs, drunken merrymaking... If in the right kind of mood, I could see the kitsch appeal. But what I did not expect were unfinished construction projects, miles of empty parking lots, and a funny sense of being in the middle of a Broadway production that had its funding cancelled before the set could be completed. Maybe I wasn't supposed to arrive during the daytime (or be awake during daylight at all while there?), but the Vegas I saw looked not unlike the outer boroughs of former Soviet bloc cities, with their faded concrete high-rises and muddy vacant lots.
Equally fascinating was that Las Vegas seemed to be intentionally "anti-pedestrian" in design. I have no background in city planning, so it's hard to explain exactly what I mean. But with the exception of the smallish main strip - which is indeed walkable and feels like Disneyworld on crack - the city is made of these self-contained complexes accessible either by car or Monorail (they really try to push the Monorail, but it was mostly empty every time I used it).
Even in the city center, the roads are multi-lane and highway-like. Sometimes there are sidewalks, but they are lined with tall guard rails and there are no provisions for crossing the street except maybe every mile or so.The hotel I stayed at was technically around the corner from the convention center where Interbike was held, yet it was recommended I take the Monorail to it. Well, one night I had this crazy idea to walk. I could clearly see the hotel right in front of me - how bad could it be? It took about an hour and a half, because there was no way to walk to it in anything resembling a straight line. I had to walk around stadium-sized empty lots surrounded with chainlink fences, and when I tried to take shortcuts through hotels, I was forced to navigate along winding paths designed to maximise my exposure to slot machines. It was surreal. As for riding a bike, I remember someone posting a ridiculous statistic on twitter, claiming that 100% of Las Vegas residents who cycle report being hit by a car at least once. Having now been there, I no longer find it implausible.
While of course I've known that places like Las Vegas exist, I guess I've done my best to avoid them - choosing to live in areas that are walkable, which for me equates with livable. Being faced with the reality of what a city like this is actually like was jarring. I know that places like Boston comprise only a small fraction of the American urban landscape, while a model similar to Las Vegas is more common. I know it, but I try not to think about it, because the realisation fills me with a dread that I don't know how to overcome.
When asked to review the Iva Jean Rain Cape, I immediately recalled theremarkably successful photosof this item I had seen in the lookbook several months earlier. I'd been mesmerised by the stunning model and bicycle, by the perfect combination of my favourite colours, by the foggy, milky, electric feel of the whole thing. But a staged photoshoot is one thing; the article of clothing itself could be quite another. What we have here is essentially a silver hooded cape, to be worn on a bicycle. The skeptic in me was thinking that few of us can pull off a garment like that without looking like we are headed to a sci-fi convention.
When the Iva Jean cape arrived, I was relieved to find it quite wearable. The colour is a metalic slate gray, in no danger of being confused with an aluminum foil alien costume. The fabric is fluid and drapey, not stiff. And it is mostly noiseless (no swooshing).
The cape is made in Seattle out of a water-repellent, breathable nylon-polyester blend fabric with reflective piping. It is one size only and hits mid-thigh. I don't want to repeat manufacturer specs, so please read the complete list of featureshere.
Close-up of the hood, visor, rear vent and reflective piping.
The hood is roomy and can be loosened and tightened using a system of drawcords.
Rear view.
Stand-up collar inside the hood. The zipper extends half way down and makes the cape easy to put on and take off.
The arm openings have velcro closure, as does the large front pocket. There is also a system of drawcords and thumb loops on the bottom for keeping the arms inside the cape.
Full rear view.
In use on the bike.Speaking generally, I must admit that I am not a "bicycle cape person." When I look down and see a tent draped over my legs, it abstracts the pedaling experience for me. That said, this cape is so lightweight, that this effect is diminished. What I like about it particularly is the breathability, the flattering shape, and the ease of movement it affords off the bike.With capes I can sometimes feel as if I am getting tangled in them, but this onehas such an airy feel to it, that I could hardly tell I had it on.
Having worn the cape in the rain a couple of times, the coverage was sufficient and there were no problems with the waterproofing. As far as temperature regulation, the cape functions as a light shell and you can layer underneath it.The vents provide good ventilation on warmer days.The front can be zipped all the way up to cover the neck up to the chin on days when you wish for a scarf.
The Iva Jean Rain Cape is available for sale online, and the retail price is $240. If you would like my review sample, please leave a comment with your email address by Monday, November 28th, 11:59pm Pacific time and I will choose a recipient at random. Continental US entries only please. In my opinion this cape will fit women up to size 10 US.