Jacob Berlin :: The Voyage Across the Ocean

As shown in There were three brothers who immigrated... Yeah, Right! Jacob Berlin arrived in Philadelphia on November 9, 1738 on the Charming Nancy with his two brothers, Frederick and Abraham. Jacob is my 6th great-grandfather.



List 65 A in "Pennsylvania German Pioneers" (Strassburger/Hinke, 1934) not only gave the names of the men over the age of fifteen years, but also gave their ages. Among the 65 men listed were: Hans Jacob Barlin, 22; Geo. Fredk. Barlin, 18; and Abraham Barlin, 16.







The Harbor of Philadelphia seen from New Jersey Shore, based on Scull's Map of 1754 (From Etching in The Historical Society of Pennsylvania) published in "Pennsylvania German Pioneers" (Strassburger/Hinke, 1934)



Since there is apparently(I haven't seen it)a record of their father, George, requesting permission to leave their home in Niederbronn and given the fact that he is not on any of the passenger lists for the Charming Nancy, it is presumed that George and his wife perished on the voyage on their way to a new life. Reading about the conditions on the ships and the crowded conditions, it is not surprising that they could be among those who died.



The year 1738 became known as "The Year of the Destroying Angels" due to a higher than average number of passenger deaths and illness on ships coming from England. Also that year there were a higher number of immigrants leaving their homeland, nearly 6000. The number of German immigrants arriving in Philadelphia had more than doubled each year beginning in 1735 with 268, 736 in 1736, and 1528 in 1737. Ships were overcrowded and heavily laden.



Part one of the article by Klaus Wust "The Emigration Season of 1738 – Year of the Destroying Angels" was published online in 1998, with his permission. I've picked out a few passages that mentioned either the Stedman Brothers or the Charming Nancy.

"In Rotterdam, additional merchant ships were fitted for the overflow of emigrants. Even the departures of John Stedman's St. Andrew and Charles Stedman's Charming Nancy were delayed by these transformations. Passengers said the two Stedmans had deliberately picked the healthiest and sturdiest people."

"Captain Walter Goodman of the Robert & Alice sent a letter back to Germany on October 19th. Excerpts were published in the Rotterdamse Courant two months later:

"On the 4th of July last I sailed out of Dover in England and arrived here on this river on the 9th of September with crew and passengers in good health but on the way I had many sick people, yet, since not more than 18 died, we lost by far the least of all the ships arrived to-date. We were the third ship to arrive. I sailed in company with four of the skippers who together had 425 deaths, one had 140, one 115, one 90, and one 80. The two captains Stedman have not yet arrived and I do not doubt that I shall be cleared for departure before they arrive since I begin loading tomorrow. I have disposed of all my passengers except for 20 families."

"On November 20th another letter from the people in Germantown to the people in Wittgenstein was sent. The letter concludes with an upward assessment of the total number of victims: "There has been a cruel, destroying angel among the travelers this year for the number of those who died so far on the voyage and here has reached about ..."

"The ship Davy qualified in the port of Philadelphia on October 25th. The next day the Gazette revealed the horrible story of this voyage. The captain, both mates and 160 passengers died at sea. It was the ship's carpenter, William Patton, who brought the ravaged vessel up the Delaware. Patton listed 74 men, 47 women and no children as the remaining passengers but only 40 of the men were well enough to come to the courthouse."

"Next appeared the long overdue St. Andrew, commanded by the favorite ship captain of the Germans, John Stedman. Several letters of passengers on some of his previous five runs between Rotterdam and Philadelphia were full of praise for him. This time, on a voyage that lasted twelve weeks, almost 120 passengers had died before reaching port on October 29th. The same day, Lloyd Zachary and Thomas Bond, two physicians recruited by the authorities to tighten the inspection of the incoming Palatine ships, presented this report to the colonial council:

"We have carefully examined the State of Health of the Mariners and Passengers on board the Ship St. Andrew, Captain Steadman, from Rotterdam, and found a great number labouring under a malignant, eruptive fever, and are of the opinion, they cannot, for some time, be landed in town without the danger of infecting the inhabitants."

"It was the last emigrant transport that John Stedman ever commanded. After his return to Europe, he settled down in Rotterdam in the shipping business. There was disbelief in the German community that such fate could have befallen a ship led by a Stedman. The Send-Schreiben expressed the reaction as follows:

"The two Stedmans, who had so far been renowned for the transfer of Germans and wanted to keep this reputation, also had to suffer the plight this time, one of them lost near 120 before landfall, although he had a party of the Hope's roughest and sturdiest folks, who had to succumb to sickness and fear of death. And the other one lost probably five-sixths, of 300 hardly 60 were left. His mates and some of his sailors he lost and he himself lay near death."

The online article ends at this point, I haven't yet obtained a copy of the entire article (it's on my To Do list). But after reading the above article, I think it is a wonder that the three Berlin brothers survived the journey. They were young and most certainly of strong stock. The conditions on board the ship must have been terrible. I can imagine the boys trying to help the other passengers and wonder what they must have thought of the situation. Obviously, I am delighted that they survived!

Brevet Season Came Early

I expected my first event of the year to be the big New England Randonneurs Populaire on April 20th. But on a whim, this past Sunday I took part in a 100K Permanent to the Haystack Observatory in Westford, MA. I will save you the suspense: I did it on the clock and finished within the time limit. Counting my trip to the start and back, it was an 82 mile day.






In randonneuring vernacular, a Permanent is an officially sanctioned brevet route that can be ridden at any time (with some notice), rather than on a specific date on the established brevet calendar. Members ofRandonneurs USA (RUSA)can design their own Permanent routes of either full brevet(200K+) or Populaire (50-150K)length, and submit them for approval. The routes are then available to any member who wishes to ride them for RUSA credit, either alone or in a group. As with standard brevets, the time limits, control stops and other rules apply.






Local randonneuse Pamela Blalock has recently put together an entire series of such routes. About 100K in length starting from Lexington, MA,Pamela's Permanentsare best enjoyed as group rides and have some special features. The routes are circuitous, with a strong focus on back roads. And each route is designed around a theme destination and theme food stop. The idea is to stop at the destination long enough to enjoy it, and stop at the food stop for a sit-down meal - while still making the official cutoff times. The Haystack 100K would be the inaugural ride in this series, and I was excited bythe destination. This was my main motivator in attempting this ride so early in the year.




Having decided to try the brevet, I did not feel especially nervous. The idea of starting from a familiar place (our cycling club's "club house"), with indoor facilities and hot drinks, was comforting. Isigned up for RUSA membership the day before. On the morning of, I pedaled to the start slowly and arrived early, giving myself time between my trip there and the ride itself.






At 10:30am on a colder-than-promised morning, a small group of randonneurs had gathered. Sheepishly standing beside them was I: by far the weakest, feeblest rider present. While I braced myself for a challenge, they had clearly prepared to enjoy a relaxing little jaunt. The disparity was too hilarious to feel bad about, so I didn't. But neither did I expect to see the rest of the group for most of the ride.




We started out together, led by Pamela and Jon D-the only riders there I knew. Just for laughs Pamela was riding a fat tire cyclocross bike and Jon a vintage fixed gear. There was an experienced-looking couple on a tandem. There was a man who I was told was an exceptionally strong rider, on aRivendell3-speed with swept-back handlebars. The other two men and myself rode skinny tire roadbikes. I stayed quietly in the back, behind a fit-looking gentleman astride a Serotta.




One of the roadie men went on ahead about a mile in. The rest of us stuck together for about 10 miles. I was amazed that I was able to hang on for that long. But in truth, I was over-exerting myself for a long-haul ride, so I decided to fall back. At around the same time, the Serotta Gentleman pulled over to the side of the road to make some adjustments to his bike. And so our group split up.






For a while I rode on my own. This was a welcome break after struggling to keep up with the group, though I still tried to ride as fast as I comfortably could, without stopping. The weather encouraged this. Though the forecast predicted temps in the 50s, I had not trusted it and now I was glad of that. The day was bleak and cold (that's ice and snowback there in the bog) with gusts of wind strong enough to push my bike sideways. Luckily, my dressing strategy had me well prepared. Instead of wearing a warm winter jacket, I had worn a thin wind vest, paired with an equally thin windbreaker over it. This layering protected from the wind chill while also allowing me to pack minimally, since each of these garments could be stuffed in a jersey pocket had I needed to remove them later. I packed a small under-the-saddle wedge with tools, spare tube, extra snack, etc. I started out with two full waterbottles with some electrolyte/energy powder mixed in. I also brought lights, just in case. And scotch tape.






The scotch tape was in case I'd need extra to secure my cue sheet. As inelegant as the setup looks, this is my preferred cue sheet location (even if there is also a nice handlebar bag with map case attached!). This was my 5th ride following a cued route, and by now I know that (1) The paper cue sheet is a must, even if I have a GPS unit, and (2) In order for the cue sheet to be useful, it must be in a location that allows me to process the text at a quick glance. I hope to elaborate on all of this in a future post.






Navigating on my own was fine, with the exception of a confusing area around the first control, where I managed to go off course, lengthening my overall distance by about a mile. Here I should mention that the Haystack Permanent route was unusually rich in controls for a short brevet, which I suspect will be he case with all of Pamela's Permanents. It has to be, by virtue of the back roads design. The circuitous route creates potential short cuts, and control points ensure riders don't take advantage of them.






Contrary to what I had assumed, the control points were not at convenience stores or gas stations (in fact, I don't think we saw any of those for most of the ride!), but at completely random places in the middle of nowhere. Our brevet cards contained secret questions, and we had to search for the answers. This was not unlike a scavenger hunt, although I admit it would have been more fun in warmer weather. The coldest point of the ride was at the second control, by the side of a lake. The wind was so strong here, I could hardly hold the pen and brevet card in my hands. The light had that eerie deep-winter look to it - almost as if it might start snowing!






Soon after the second control, I noticed that I was over 20 miles into the ride - I had done a third of it. Just then, the sun came out briefly and somehow I knew that I would finish just fine. I was feeling good and fresh, despite the respectable amount of climbing. The route was described as having +3513ft of elevation over the course of 62.3 miles, and that felt about right. I thought the climbs were very humane: Just steep and long enough to require my lowest gears and some effort, but not so sharply pitched as to make me ill with that awful feeling of all the blood rushing to my head.




Which is not to say there wasn't suffering. I had determined not to bring my big camera on this ride, to ensure I'd take it seriously and do it on the clock. However, at the last moment I couldn't help it and snuck a tiny 35mm point and shoot into my jersey pocket, loaded with a roll of black and white film. I made an agreement with myself to only take pictures at the controls, where I would already be stopping, and so far I had stuck to this. But oh how I suffered through it! I suffered at the sight of dilapidated barns, rusty farm equipment, overgrown bogs, ice-covered fields, erratically winding roads. I settled into my pain and dealt with it.






But after all, I am only human. When I paused at an intersection to double-check my cue sheet, the sight of a river crossing under some ancient train cars proved too much. I took out the point-and-shoot and snapped away in a hurried frenzy. Just then I spotted the Serotta Gentleman in my view finder. He slowed down and soft-pedaled, in an invitation for me to join him. Coming up on the next control and the brevet's main attraction, I warned my new companion of my picture-taking plans there. He was amused but unfased. From that point on, we rode together.






The MIT Haystack Observatory is situated on an enormous campus that is home to a couple of climbs. The first one leads to the Westford Radio Telescope (pictured here), and the next one leads to the main research facility and the Haystack Radio Telescope (first image in this post). Cycling uphill with the telescopes looming gloriously on the horizon, framed by thick growths of pine trees, was a breath-taking, unforgettable experience. This alone made the entire ride worth it.






The Haystack observatory was built in the 1960s, as a collaboration between MIT'sLincoln Laboratoryfor the US Air Force. It is an astronomical observatory, containing two telescopes and vast research facilities.





There are also several enormous antennae - some functional and others abandoned, rusting in the nearby woods.







The research campus contains several interesting buildings - as well as military structures and vehicles. I will definitely return with some proper camera equipment.






Having passed the Haystack, we were roughly half way through the brevet. Things sped up, as we rode straight through the next control and to the food stop at mile 45. Cycling with the Serotta Gentleman felt like drifting in and out of a shared stream-of-consciousness. Sometimes we rode side by side, sometimes we rode one in front of the other, sometimes we rode spread out, while still keeping each other in sight. Sometimes we were silent, sometimes we talked, in fragmentary conversations that had no clear start or end. All this was an oddly natural and meditative experience, despite our being strangers. According to our computers, we rode faster than either had expected - which surprised us, especially considering the winds, the climbing, and the occasional cue sheet misinterpretation. Only when we approached the food stop did I begin to feel tired. But the sight of the main group of riders renewed my energy. They were leaving just as we were arriving, and all were glad to see the group together once more.






The themed food stop for this ride was at Gene's Chinese Fladbread Cafe inChelmsford, MA. While the name suggests some sort of contemporary fusion cuisine establishment, in actuality this is a very traditional place that serves a variety of dishes prepared around large, gooey noodles, made from scratch on the premises. The atmosphere was delightful: Chinese families enjoying a late Sunday lunch, and a bunch of us cyclists. The owner seemed well used to issuing receipts and signing brevet control cards!




Praising the food, Jon D. suggested we get the #4 Special, and we followed his advice. This dish turned out to be a generous bowl of garlic, which also contained a handful of said noodles. I am still not sure whether this meal recommendation was sincere, or a practical joke played on us stragglers. Drivers must have steered well clear of us on the final leg of the brevet, so mighty was our garlic breath!






It is unusual for me that a second half of a long ride goes by faster than the first. Typically it is toward the end that the aches begin, the difficulties, the tiredness, the tedium. At some point, each climb grows more unpleasant than the last, irritation sets in and enjoyment diminishes. This time, none of that happened. We had the sense that time flew, and we flew. Though the climbs kept coming until the very end, they did not bother me. That is not to say I was fast, only that I really did not mind the climbing. If anything, it was the descents that were my weakness. There were a few spots on this ride with tightly winding downhill stretches, that I am not skillful enough to navigate without reducing speed considerably. As far as safety, this is where my GPS unit was extremely helpful: I could see the curves coming up and regulated my speed accordingly.






The finish snuck up on us. Pamela managed to route the final leg of the ride through a stretch of back roads I did not immediately recognise. And before I knew it, I saw there were no more cue sheets and my computer stated we'd ridden over 60 miles. Several miles later, we turned the corner to see the Ride Studio Cafe just down the street. Reeking of garlic and quietly beaming with satisfaction, we wheeled our bikes in at 5:00pm on the dot to submit our tattered control cards.




My computer read 64.3 miles at the finish, and 6.5 hours had elapsed since the start. That's an average speed of 9.9 mph, including all stops and the sit-down meal. My average moving speed over the course of the ride was 13.2 mph.






After handing in my control card, I hung around drinking tea and babbling excited non-sense for a half hour, then cycled home. After an 80+ mile day, I felt suspiciously fine. I got home before dark, washed, changed, and went out for a nice evening walk with my husband. I kept expecting the exhaustion and pain to hit me, but it never did. The next day was very busy, but I had no trouble waking up before 7am and doing everything on my schedule. Again, I kept expecting to feel the aftereffects of the Permanent in my body, but it never happened.




What I did feel, was a lingering sensation of a very physical, feverish sort of post-ride euphoria, like I was hopped up on some drug and couldn't come down. To some extent this showed in my face - which had a swollen, reddish look to it for some time afterward - and in my eyes, which looked unnaturally shiny and glazed over. Whatever high I was on, it is possible that it dulled any sense of post-ride pain I would have otherwise experienced.




And so that is the story of my first "on the clock" ride. For anyone local considering the Haystack Permanent, I highly recommend it for those who enjoy scenic, low-traffic routes along back roads.The Haystack Observatory and Gene's Chinese Flatbread Cafe are worth savoring.There are no unpaved stretches along this route; skinny tires are fine. The climbing is reasonable, with no overly sharp pitches. Things to be aware of are the frequent controls, the lack of food-buying opportunities other than Gene's, and the handful of curvy descents. I am so pleased to have been a part of this ride, and heartily thank everyone involved for this special day!

Handmade Dress Guards from Holland, by Simeli

My bicycles are not exactly run-of-the-mill, and they tend to get noticed when I am out and about. But nothing has compared to the effect of installing these dress guards on Marianne. Without exaggeration, the dress guards draw crowds of women, their eyes full of wonder at the sight of these unique creations. Subtle they are not. But they are sure to brighten up your day. I received these dress guards as part of an equal value exchange fromSimeli(a sponsor July - August ), and here are my impressions:



First I must say that I've had the dress guards for some time now, but could not find a bike on which to install them. I was initially hoping to fit them on a loop frame bicycle, but all of mine already had dress guards and removing them would have been a pain. Finally I installed them on my mixte, and the combination is unexpectedly fabulous.



Here is a straight-up view. It is not as typical to install dress guards on a mixte as it is on step-through bicycles, but I really do not see why not. It was done in the past, and in Europe you will find many older mixte bicycles with holes drilled into the fender - evidence that at some point the dress guards were there. If you use your mixte for transportation and you wear fluttery skirts or coats, this is a useful accessory.



This angle gives you an idea of how the dress guards are attached: They connect to the bolts (or the fender stays) at the rear dropouts and to the fenders via clips.The clips are supplied by Simeli along with the dress guards, and are available in a variety of colours. If your fenders are deep enough to fit the clips without rubbing the wheel, you do not need to drill holes. However, please note that the attachment system was designed for the sort of wide, deep fenders that are found on Dutch bikes, English roadsters, and similar bicycles. If you have fenders like the ones pictured on my mixte, the clips will likely rub the tire. We have angled the clips on my bike as best as we could, and they still rub a bit. So if I keep this set-up in the long run, I will drill the fender and re-install the dress guards that way.



Simeli dress guards were designed to work with either 28" or 26" wheels, so anything in between is fine as well. This includes 650B, 27"and 700C wheels. The wheels on my bicycle here are 27" and the dress guards stretch tightly.



Another thing to note is that - like most dress guards - these have an opening to fit over either a "cafe lock" or a caliper brake on the rear wheel (click to enlarge the picture to see the opening). The opening is aligned with the rear stays, so even if you have neither a lock nor a caliper brake on the rear wheel, it is unobtrusive.



As far as performance goes, these dress guards certainly do their job. They cover a large portion of the wheel and are densely knit. Any outfit you could wear is safe from the spokes with these installed. They do not shift or flutter or make any noise (other than the potential problem of the clips rubbing narrow fenders), and they hold up securely.



Of course the singlemost feature one is drawn to when discussing these, is the looks. There are several models offered by Simeli, and all of them feature crochet work in bright, cheerful colours. Mine are pink, lilac and light green, with silvery thread and a row of peralescent beads woven in between (the model is Linde).



Here is a close-up of the colours and the row of beads. If you've been reading this blog, you know that I do not tend to go for colourful designs like this, and instead gravitate towards neutral colour palettes. But it's nice to try new things once in a while, and hey - it's summer after all!



The shimmery aqua-blue of Marianne's frame is too much for me as it is, so I decided to go all out and make her my "technicolor dream coat" bicycle. And that she is!



But the crucial question: Would I buy these dress guards if they were not sent to me for review? I would if they were available in an off-white or natural-hemp sort of colour, or even something silvery or gold-ish. In fact, I am looking for something like that for the new custom mixte we are building up and would even gladly drill the fenders if they prove too tight for the clips. The bright and cheerful colours on the models currently available are not my style - but given the response they get out in the streets, I believe I am in the minority in that respect.



Final note: I've received emails from readers who are interested in the dress guards but cannot understand how to navigate the website (which is entirely in Dutch). If you'd like to order a set or have questions, please just contact Simone(the owner of Simeli) directly. She speaks English and can answer all your questions.

More Blackberries

After breakfast we decided to take a walk around the large yard that Paddy calls home. It was so pretty and green and there was one of northwestern Oregon's light, misty rains sprinkling on us. But that didn't stop us from exploring the huge blackberry patch to find the fruit that Jim had missed earlier. For once I had my fill of fresh blackberries.
Of course you have to fight the birds and deer for them. But that is part of the fun.

Dynamo Lighting Kit for Roadbikes

While I am generally a huge fan of dynamo lighting, I do not have it installed on what is currently my only roadbike. My plans for the bike did not involve significant amounts of night-time cycling; it was not meant to be a touring or randonneuring bike. For occasional riding in the dark I do have an excellent rechargeable battery headlight that lasts for hours and attaches easily to the handlebars. And I have an equally good tail light that attaches to the back of my saddle wedge tool bag. To install a dynamo hub wheel and lights on this bike would have added unnecessary weight and expense to the build.




I felt pretty good about my bike's lighting setup until I found myself wanting to join an overnight ride. Initially I thought that my super duper rechargeable battery headlight would last through the night. But when I did the math it became clear that it would not; I would need to add a second headlight and to bring several sets of spare batteries. Even at the height of summer an overnight ride in New England means 8+ hours of riding in the dark - and not the kind of milky suburban dark where you can leave the light on a low setting to conserve battery life; proper boonies dark that requires a powerful headbeam. I talked to the others doing the ride, and they all had dynamo lights. Now I felt foolish for not having a bike with appropriate lighting. But at the same time, how often would I do rides like this?






I was discussing this with local cyclist Pamela Blalock and she offered to lend me her mobile dynamo setup: a spare front wheel with a dynamo hub, and lights that are easy to attach and remove. With this kit, she can turn any 700C wheeled roadbike into an overnight bike. Extremely grateful to Pamela for the offer, frankly I was also skeptical that it would work out. To me, dynamo lighting was something that gets permanently installed - not attached and removed on a case by case basis! Furthermore, my bike has no fenders, no racks, no braze-ons. Could the lights be attached securely? I was worried that the installation process would be tricky, and that in the end something would end up falling off, disconnecting, or malfunctioning.




To my amazement, the installation process took mere minutes. The front wheel switch was seamless and soon my bike was sporting a dynamo hub. Then the headlight was attached to the brake bolt, as shown in the first picture. A thin cable runs straight down from the headlight to the hub, easily secured to the fork with a piece of tape.






For the tail light, a P-clamp was installed on the left chainstay. The wiring got routed along the chainstay and the top tube, secured with zip ties to the brake cable. The result was not beautiful, but neither was it flimsy. It was secure and problem-free. The positioning of the headlight and tail light beams were spot on.




Later I learned that other local cyclists employ a similar system for when they ride in the dark - a dynamo hub wheel and lights that get moved from bike to bike as needed. I would not have thought this to be a good idea until I tried it myself and experienced how easy and hassle-free it was. On a dedicated randonneuring or touring bike, it makes sense to have dynamo lighting permanently installed in a more elegant manner. But for those who want the option of using their pared-down roadbike for occasional night time riding, a kit like this can be a good solution. Pamela's setup includes a 32 spoke Velocity Aerohead wheel built around a Schmidt SON hub, a Lumotec Cyo IQ headlight and a Spanniga Pixeo tail light - though many alternatives exist.




At least here in New England, there seems to be an increasing amount of cross-over between road racing, randonneuring, endurance events, and casual long distance rides. And this cross-over is influencing how roadbikes are defined and equipped.I am still unsure what kind of cycling I will ultimately gravitate toward. But if more night time rides are in my future, a versatile dynamo setup like this is certainly worth considering.

Black Diamond Prime Ski boot

Here is BD's catalog speil:



The Prime is Black Diamond's premier lightweight alpine touring boot-designed to tackle the world's most challenging ski mountaineering routes or simply to save your legs for one last powder lap. This is our lightest alpine touring boot, featuring a unique 3.5-buckle design that skis with the stiffness and control of a 4-buckle boot. Its state-of-the-art construction keeps weight to an absolute minimum, while our revolutionary Pivoting Cuff Technology delivers the ultimate combination of freedom of motion in walk mode and instant power transfer in ski mode.





Black Diamond Prime Ski Boot Features:

• Lightweight (1.64 kg) 3-buckle alpine touring boot with 4-buckle performance

• Triax Pivot Frame with Flex 110 and unmatched 40° of resistance-free touring motion

• Efficient Fit AT Light Liner with lightweight Boa closure system

• Rockered, rubber outsole with integrated tech inserts provides dramatic grip and durability

• Weight Per Pair: 7lbs. 4oz.

• Flex Index: 110

• Number of Buckles: 3







Here is mine:



In the past I've spent a lot of time in ski boots. Over a decade working full time at ski areas in different jobs including pro patrol, avalanche control and a tiny bit of teaching. I've back country ski guided on 3 pin, tele gear and AT gearand heli skied. All of it in the NW or western Canada. Right up till this week.



I've had some great boots and some not so great boots. But a warm boot and one that fit my foot hasn't been all that hard to come by. I had orthotics made for me in the early '80s and continue to use a good footbed, custom made for my feet and stance.



So I was pretty stoked to get a new alpine touringboot knowing what was in store for me this winter in France. Having generallyskied in a competition style boot I was looking for ski/boot performance over a super light weight boot. Although I might rethink that decision on my next pair. No matter, comfort is the real key for me in any boot, climbing or skiing.



The Black Diamond Prime is a three buckle boot that uses a Y strap on the first buckle to avoid the 4th buckle and save a tiny bit of weight. But as a "new generation" AT boot, it is not light weight by any measure.



But theydo indeed ski very well.Pretty much like a performace ski boot from what I can tell. Nothing lacking on this boot for performance...I could use it on a pair of old school 207cm GS skis cruising at mach 1 and be happy with the support.



In the morning walking the 15 minutes to the Midi tram from my apartment here in Chamonix I curse the walk mode. My toes are banging, the rigid sole is....well rigid There is never enough flex in a ski boot to make them walk "well." They may walk but it isn't going to be a pleasure. The skiday hereisgenerally half dozenruns and 20 THOUSAND vertical feet if I can stand up that long. By then I am happy to unlatch and unbuckle for the walkfrom the train to the coffee house. And I love how easy the Primes walk then and the finaltwo blocks back to the apartment.



Life isn't hard on AT boots or your feet here unless you make it that way.



So they ski great, and they walk...like a few of the betterAT boots I figure. Which is well enough to keep you from crying at the end of the day here in Chamonix or on the long day trips at Rodgers pass...where the train is generally avoided.



Butttttttttt?! There is always a but. I didthree trips to my local boot fitter at home with these boots before I left. Which is excessive even for me.The inner boot was tight. Too tight. You get the idea....it was getting ugly. All to no avail. Each time we remeasured the shell. Remember I wanted a "performace fit". Each time we all agreed the shell was perfect. Calls to BD Custoemr service and discussions with guys there who actually wear the same size climbing boot as me, all...once more.....agreed on shell size.



Two of the trips to the boot fitter at home would have been ski days. But the boots were killing me. The third trip I just flatly ran out of time to ski in them againbefore flying to France.But they were a bit better with each visit. "Better" being a relative term.



First run herewas a 15K and 5000 of vertical down from 11K feet. Think skiing from the summit of Mt. Hood to the parking lot at Meadows...or whereever 10 miles and a 5000 ft drop in elevation would put you.







At 10K feet I had to have helppulling my boot off and message away a cramp. Unbelievably hard to get the boot off let alone back on at home. Imagine that in 40mph winds and -15C. I have never been happy with the Boa system on any boot I have used. And the liners on the Primes just reinforce that opinion.The Boa sucks. One of the most unplesant 4 hrs I have ever spent in any boot finishing up the Mer De Glace. and walking home from the train. And that includes walking off the summit of Rainier as my toes unthawed. This was worse that walking down from Muir in socks.



My next move was find a BD ski boot dealer in Chamonix. And most importantly someone who was REALLY good at fitting boots.Easy enough to do here. Ths place is over flowing with good gear shops and expert staff. (amazing really just how many and how good!)



No problem they tell me..10 Euro per boot. They take 20 minutes looking at, measuring and marking my boot shells and liners. I am a little worried. The guys at home are good and I am beginning to think this boot will never be comfortable on my feet. I'm in Chamonix for chrimney sake...I have to have ski boots I can wear just to get to the climbs. And the skiing? No place has skiing like Chamonix.



As I am leaving I notice that have several different models of Palau custom liners on one little corner wall. Palaus are kinda like Intuition Liners back in the States just better made over all. I own a pair Intuition myself. But I also have some Palau liners made for the La Sportiva Baruntse I use in my Spantiks. The Palau liner is amuch better liner that the Intuition imo. I turn around and we start the bootfitting converstion all over again.



Over lapping tongue on the Palau is much easier to get in and out of than the Boa on the BD liner. Liners are warmer as well besides the obvious added comfort (dbl tongue for example) even if the BD liner did actually fit.



The retail sales mentality is different in France. You aren't goingto be pushed into buying anything. Lucky in fact if you can get the sales staff to help you, let alone answer a question. Sometimes it is annoying. But I kind of like it generally. You can look at anything and no one will bug you asking, "can I help you?" Which can so often sound like "buy something or get the hell out of here!" in the USA. When I start asking questions on the Palauliners I am politely told they didn't want to sell me something I didn't need. But going on, in their opinion, as a BD dealer,all the BD boots came with liners too small for the shell. Which certainly would seem to be my problem when looking at and trying to fit my factory liners. And the boot fitter goes on, "almost every BD boot they have sold had the liner replaced with a Palau".



BD boots are notcheap here! But it does say something for the performance of the BD shell.



Theopinions expressed by theStaff after I was fittted and the liners were paid for were even more to the point. Sanglard, Chamonix's premier ski boot fitter.













20 minutes and 150 Euro later the Palua "Soft" liners were expertly fitted and molded with my orthodics. Same orthotics that I couldn't even get in the BD liners. The next day I skied 15K vert in 2 hours and spent a total of 5 hrs in my boots walking, eating a great lunch and skiing. I dropped off a nice bottle of wine that night formysales person/ boot fitter.



Happy now in his new liners on the start of the 15k run down from the Midi.







I now like my BD Primes. But it might wellbe a one night stand, 'cuz I aint in love.



Palau liners...designed, patented , serial numberedand made in France.

BD Boa liners.... designed in SLC, made in Thailand

http://www.ets.palau.fr/



For more on AT ski gear, gear reviews and opinions, this is the US destination on the internet:



http://www.wildsnow.com/





Palau liners in my Primes.

Why Fixed Gear?

I have been riding fixed gear bicycles for about a year and a half now, and enjoy it so much that it is hard to talk about without getting embarrassed. Here in the Boston area, fixed gear is associated with a distinct cultural attitude and fashion sense, and I do not fit the mold. Seeing me on a bicycle with a fixed drivetrain often seems to surprise people, and I've been told on more than one occasion that I "don't seem like the type." While I suspect this is mostly used as a conversation starter by men, it still succeeds in making me self-conscious. What is it about fixed gear that I like so much and why do I "need" this type of bicycle?

I first tried a fixed gear bike in June . I was staying in Vienna and pining over the nearby velodrome's summer closure, and a friend offered to teach me to ride a track bike so that I could ride around the velodrome building (this seemed very funny at the time - around the velodrome, get it?). I was afraid to try it at first, but as soon as I got on the bike I didn't want to get off it. It felt so natural and intuitive. My friend ended up leaving the bicycle with me for the duration of my stay in Vienna and I rode it in the park after work every chance I got. Cycling slowly due to the lack of brakes, I must have looked like an idiot, but didn't care. I discovered that on fixed gear, my bicycle handling skills somehow improved. I could make tighter turns, cycle through narrow spaces, control my speed better, and just be more in control. It felt as if I suddenly gained a better understanding of how a bicycle worked. The custom Italian track bike made for a now-retired racer felt unexpectedly comfortable, save for the curvature of the handlebars. I could ride this thing for hours with a silly smile on my face. It became clear during those rides that I needed a fixed gear bike of my own once I returned to the US. A friend of a friend sold me a good road frame for fixed gear conversion, and I mailed it to myself in Boston before leaving Vienna.

Waiting for the road frame to arrive (it took over 3 weeks!) I couldn't stop talking about my experience with fixed gear, and just for the heck of it one weekend the Co-Habitant and I converted the Motobecane mixte I then owned to a single speed with a fixed/free flip-flop hub. Doing this was easy and inexpensive. We picked up a budget wheelset, modified the existing crankset, shortened the chain and that was pretty much that. I rode this bicycle around the city and out to the countryside, and it was great fun. But I mostly thought of it as a novelty. On an upright bike, I preferred a freewheel. This bicycle was a great hit around the neighbourhood though, especially when I fitted it with some colourful dressguards. The woman who later bought it planned to use it as a freewheel single speed, but liked the idea of having the fixed option by flipping the wheel.

Finally the vintage road frame I'd bought in Vienna arrived in the mail, and we quickly put it together. You might recognise this as the previous incarnation of theMoser I now ride as a geared roadbike. The tires here look huge, but they are 28mm Panaracer Paselas - the frame had just enough clearance for them if I did not use a rear brake. I rode this bike a lot, and particularly enjoyed it once it began to get cold. There was something about cold and dreary days on a fixed gear that was just magic.But while I loved riding the Moser, it became apparent over time that the frame was not really suitable for fixed gear conversion due to its very low bottom bracket. As my speed on the bike increased I started to get pedal strike when cornering on bumpy or uneven roads, and did not feel that this was safe. Last winter I began to look for another frame, which did not prove to be very easy given my criteria (lugged steel, horizontal dropouts, high bottom bracket, small size,and no toe overlap). I considered getting a frame from Royal H., but could not afford it. I considered the new SimpleOne from Rivendell, but learned that they would not be making one in my size. And that is how I came to be in possession of a Mercian.

By the time I ordered this bicycle from Mercian, I had a good idea of what I wanted in a fixed gear. I did not want a track bike, but a comfortable and somewhat relaxed roadbike that just happened to have afixed gear drivetrain. I wanted to fit it with 28mm-32mm tires for road and occasional trails. I wanted it to have tame handling without feeling sluggish. All of this was done. When I began to ride this bicycle after we put it together, it was just the feeling I wanted. It is comfortable, intuitive, has no toe overlap or pedal strike, and I can ride it for quite a long time without getting tired.

So why fixed gear and what do I like about it so much? If I have to pin it down, there are two distinct elements of this type of bike that I enjoy. First, I simply find it soothing and pleasant. The motions my legs make on a fixed gear feel different - more circular and rhythmical.In that sense it is really not about speed at all, but about being able to ride with smooth and regular pedal strokes and enjoying the state of mind this puts me in. I find this to be very relaxing when I am stressed out. Even just riding in circles around the neighbourhood, the magical sensation of the drivetrain never fails to calm me down and clear my head.

Second, I feel that riding a fixed gear roadbike helps me with technique. My movements feel more elegant and precise, and I can sense that I am developing a more intuitive sense of balance. I play games where I try to keep the bike going at all costs - slowing down to a crawl before a traffic light rather than stop as I wait for it to turn green. I also like to see how fast I can accelerate under different circumstances, and play "sprinting" games until I get out of breath. This is much more interesting to do on a fixed gear than on a freewheel bike, because once you get the drivetrain going it feels as if it "helps" you. All this may sound silly, but somehow I feel that things like this really help. Fixed gear bikes feel playful and very safe, which encourages me to try all this stuff that I would not normally try. Slowly but surely, I can tell that it improves my geared roadcycling skills - including the somewhat "duh" realisation that if I continuously pedal and feather the brakes instead of coasting, then I will feel more in control of my geared roadbike as well.

But all this talk of technique is probably beside the point. When it comes down to it, we do things that we enjoy and fixed gear is for me simply one of those things. I can't imagine not owning a bike like this. I begin to get fixed gear cravings if I don't ride one for more than a week. Luckily, that should not be a problem.