Canyonlands National Park :: Needles District

This area of Canyonlands is extremely remote. I saw few people there on the day I spent in the Needles District. Unless you want to do lots of hiking, backpacking or have a four-wheel-drive vehicle, you won't see much here by sticking to the main road. I don't think I even saw any of the tall spires or “needles” that this district is known for, except for those in the distance. I walked several of the short nature trails then found a spot at the nearby BLM campground. That afternoon I watched the blowing sand and read a bit more. It was another lazy, relaxing day for me!

The “famous” needles can be seen on the distant horizon.

Mushroom Cap formations.

I was startled by the intensity of these blue flowers.

And I'm always amazed by the flowers growing in the trail.

I was also fascinated with their paper-thin, wavy texture.

Love Bike!

We stopped by DBC City Bikes (formerly the Dutch Bicycle Company) in Somerville, Mass. to see if they had some bike parts we were after. In the showroom, among many other things we saw this:

Yes, you guessed it: "Love Bike"! Clearly I had to photograph and share such a masterpiece on this magical day created for us by the greeting card industry.

This is the entire bike in its glory.

I imagine the handles next to the seats (love seats?) are for steering. The lovers are meant to share a bell. Magnificent! The Love Bike is for sale, but Dan (owner of DBC City Bikes) cautions that one should view it "as a sculpture," because as a bicycle it is not very efficient. Efficiet schmefficient! Just imagining this beauty rolling along Mass. Ave., taking the lane and being honked at by bewildered drivers, brings a smile to my face.

We saw more fun things at DBC City Bikes, but they can't possibly follow in the footsteps of the Love Bike, so I will report on them later.

International Woman's Day - On Bicycle

[image via Miami University Russian Studies Department]

In honor of March 8th, International Woman's Day, I give you "Collective Farm Woman on Bicycle" by my favourite Soviet painter, Alexander Deineka.

["Woman Riding a Bicycle with Grasses" by Jerry Cooke ]

... and a real Soviet "commuter" farm woman from 1960. Too bad this holiday is neglected in the USA. In Vienna I got flowers!

Call of Duty 28, Coolum Cave, Queensland Aust.

Photo: Phil BoxBeautiful winter conditions, steep, steep rock and my favorite lap route.

Antoine is on belay for this lap at the "Coolum Sendfest" .

Shopping in Ghent, Belgium

Belgium compared to the Netherlands is a shopper’s sanctuary. There are more choices, better of course, and many popular designer shops abound. Moreover, the women in Belgium are better dressed than their counterparts in the Netherlands. The petite Belgians as compared to the gigantic Dutch women are in my opinion classier, elegant, and feminine.

Of course, it is not complete visiting Ghent without a souvenir foto, there must be! This is taken in Veldstraat shopping street and if I am not mistaken that is the Sint Bavo Cathedral at my back. Thanks Rich for taking this foto!

In Holland, I only see stylish women in moneyed suburbs, posh little villages, PC Hooftstraat in Amsterdam and in Maastricht, but in Belgium these women with the élan touch are everywhere. They strut the busy streets of Ghent from 9 to 5 and till later. I just love to see well dressed women around me and I can’t help but admire these Belgian women, they absolutely have finer tastes in fashion.

Ghent (Gent) as a city is also very pretty; she is like a well dressed Belgian woman! I do not understand though why Ghent is often regarded as second choice by travelers opinion in travel forums over romantic Bruges (Brugge). Bruges is overly touristy and having been to both towns, I think I would prefer Ghent. She has this special allure and magnetic mystery in her. The old Graslei harbour is my favorite. The panoramic line up of beautiful and impressive medieval buildings is one great sight to behold.

The Graslei Harbour, a very popular attraction in Ghent. Boat tours starts from here too.

Biking is an everyday activity in the Flanders region which also bears the same flat landscape just like the Netherlands.

The buildings in Ghent are very similar to the Dutch architecture. Given the bond of history, Flanders or Belgium was part of the United Kingdom of the Netherlands until 1830 when the Kingdom of Belgium was born and separated from the Kingdom of the Netherlands. The façade of the structures and the “trapgevel” are very familiar, you see the same thing as you go about in Holland, however there is a French flair into it, in the art work details, which makes the buildings very uniquely Belgian manner. You don’t see such type of art in France or in the Netherlands.

More fotos of Ghent here: Ghent, Belgium

For those who read the news dutifully, you might be aware that Belgium is currently torn apart by a serious national crisis: a country divided by two cultures and two languages, Flemish (Dutch speaking in the north) and Walloons (French speaking in the south) that resulted into not having an official government for more than a year already. Check BBC for more information.

Mrs. Rich and I having our warm choco and coffee drink. I like this cafe because they have plaids that you can drape your body or cover your lap as it was a bit chilly day.

The Belfry Tower, one of the striking structures in Ghent that dominates the city skyline.

Ghent is part of the Flemish region so I did not have to speak a word of French there. Yet the Flemish Dutch is always an interesting thing to me. I just can’t help but smile when I hear the locals, perhaps I find it amusing, but their accent is softer, milder, and it seems that they have this certain rhythm when they talk, like they are softly singing.

I find it droll too when Belgians quickly find my accent. Although I have presumably a distinct foreign accent when speaking Dutch, they just know I live in the Netherlands. I reckon the universal throat gurgling sound of G and SCH (that I have learned and gotten used to!) cannot be utterly disguised.

The Vleeshuis (Meat House), the place where meat was weighed and sold during the Middle Ages. Now it is used as a Promotiecentrum to promote events about delicatessen products.

In wrapping up, it wouldn’t hurt to cross over to Ghent (or even to Brussels and Antwerp) from time to time. The drive is around 3 hours only; definitely worth the trip – hey, it’s outside the Netherlands! However, I realized that shopping is a real chore, and believe it or not, it’s not always something that I look forward to. I’m terribly lazy and I prefer to stay at home if I am not working or traveling, but I don’t mind some sane periods of shopping in between, though I must insist, it must be scheduled. I am trying to control my spending! Given that I have come to a point in my life that I can pretty much buy whatever I want (that’s why I will never trade in my older years with my younger years), it is a challenge, and undeniably hard to keep the standards low in terms of spending. I am glad I have the Dutchman as my conscience and financial adviser.

Nevertheless, I would need at least 2 days to shop. So next time when I am in Belgium for shopping, to maximize and stretch my time I would need to book a hotel to stay and relax for the night.

The quality of my photos are not really great because they were all taken by my Nokia Navigator mobile phone.

From Strange to Familiar

For the first time in a long time, I've been riding for transportation along routes that started out as uncharted territories. As it often goes, at first these routes seemed hostile, strange. Unfamiliar towns. Different patterns of motorist behaviour than what I'd gotten used to. But over time, the trips grew familiar, peaceful, and therefore unremarkable. This reminded me why I write so much less frequently now about transportation cycling than I used to: because nothing "happens." Whether my commute is 2 miles or 22 miles, nothing about the process is really novel anymore. With roadcycling, there is still the rush of going a longer distance, discovering a new route, learning a new skill, riding with a new group or partner. But with commuting, things have become automated.




Most of all, I tend to forget the spectacleI make of myselfwhen I - a woman in a long belted overcoat, knee high boots and a beret - ride a weird bike through areas where such sights aren't as normal as they are in Boston Metro. Drivers roll down their windows in freezing temperatures just to get a better look at me. No one has honked or gotten angry with me yet for being on the road; I think they are too stunned to.




The other day I was just riding along, heading homeward, when I sensed a car hovering behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw it was a white minivan. The sun was in my eyes and I could not make out the driver. I got a little nervous and moved over to the right encouraging them to pass me, but they kept hovering. Finally, the van did pass, only to pull over to the side of the road in front of me. A woman jumped out and started waving her arms wildly, beckoning me to stop. Out of the windows I could now see several children's heads peeking out. So I braked and put a foot down tentatively, hoping this was not some trap to kidnap me and harvest my organs. And the woman shouted "Oh my God, I just wanted to tell you I love your bike and your outfit!" She asked some questions about the bike and where I was going, and was stunned by my answers. What about a bike that could fit her kids? (Just two kids, the others in the van were the neighbours'.) Yes, there are those kinds of bikes as well, I told her, and described the different options. She was so excited, it was really quite marvelous. A little extreme to pull the minivan over to talk to me, sure, but I'll take it over driver hostility any day. What started out as being strange to her became familiar. These are good encounters.

Gratin Dauphinois

Gratin Dauphinois, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

A specialty from the Dauphiné region of France. This savory treat consists of thinly-sliced potatoes layered with garlic, herbs, and Gruyère cheese in a dish filled with milk. The dish is then baked for at least an hour, or until the potatoes come out tender and delicious.

Serve with a succulent roasted chicken on a cold winter night.