It is a BOB tradition to have a “Tried and Liked” post at the end of each year. Since I became a slightly more vocal member of that community this year, I thought I’d add my own list.

Tried and Liked in 2007

• Carrying my stuff on the bike: I’ve wembled quite a bit in my methodology, going from basket to panniers to basket to saddlebag to small front rack, but for the most part, it’s much more comfortable carrying stuff on the bike rather than your back. I’ve come to the conclusion that the holy grail of bike racking is a porteur rack, but I’m just not ready to shell out the loot for one. Yet.
• Road biking: I picked up the Bianchi Vigorelli, and haven’t turned back. I’ve even tentatively committed to racing (read: red-lining to simply not get lapped) at the Pseudo-drome this year.
• Mountain biking: After biking up the Redline Monocog last month, I’ve been out in Frick a few times, and as I’ve said, golly gee, it’s fun.
• Generator powered lighting: I waffled on getting a bottle/tire generator for about eight months, and finally picked one up in the summer. For commuting, it is absolutely perfect. Yes, it doesn’t really work at all in the snow, and I’ve got to crank up the resistence in the rain, but I don’t have to worry about batteries, and the light output is better than anything for the price I paid. A hub generator may be in my future, too.
• Albatross bars: I managed to find a pair used via the BOB list, and they are the cat’s pajamas.
• Wool: the perfect clothing. And it doesn’t stink.

Tried and Didn’t Like in 2007

• Carrying stuff on the bike: yes, yes, it’s in both lists, but it’s true. Simply chucking stuff in a bag has its advantages.
• Panniers: I’m willing to write this off as my bike’s fault (since it wasn’t designed with panniers in mind), but I didn’t like having all the weight on the rear wheel.
• Carrying my Pelican laptop case in my messenger bag. Despite this, I still do it. This stubbornness is what gets me out the door on mornings when the mercury hovers around zero.

Goals for 2008? Humm….

1. Climb more. The sleeper is awakening, slowly.
2. Actually race my bike at the Oval.
2a. Leave it all on the track (as it were) at least once, even if it means blowing up spectacularly.
3. Do the Wilderness 101 (maybe).

Posted on 3 January 2008

North and East

A bit of a wandering route cooked up by Stuart and his friend. I generally felt pretty good, and managed a good bridge effort in catching John on the descent on Hunter Road (good fun!). I got dropped a bit on Guys Run, but that was expected. The weather was quite nice, but I was bit overdressed. Better safe than sorry, I suppose. The final up Penn–to Jen’s parents’–was slow, to say the least.

Posted on 1 January 2008

Yes, I don’t write about politics much these days. Part of it is increased apathy toward the political process (to which someone might respond “then do something about it!”), part of it is general weariness with reading about politicals–in fact, I have purged my bookmarks of most of the politically-minded blogs I once read. These days, my “political” reading is generally the smart folks blogging at The Atlantic, and the other other smart folks at the American Scene. And it is at the American Scene that Reihan Salam pens his defence of same-sex marriage rights. Salam quotes Peter Berkowitz:

And yet opponents of same-sex marriage must reckon with the fact that over the past 40 years the very meaning of marriage has undergone a substantial change. The sexual and cultural revolutions of the 1960s have pushed the bearing and rearing of children from the core of marriage’s social meaning. Ask twentysomethings and thirtysomethings what they hope for from marriage. They will, of course, tell you that they want love and that they definitely want companionship — indeed, that they expect their spouse to be their best friend. And obviously they want to share the pleasures of sex. Then ask them about children. Many will pause and say well, yes, certainly, they are thinking about children, and eventually, somewhere down the line, they expect to have one or two. But children, once at the center of marriage, have now become negotiable, and what used to be negotiable — love, companionship, sex — has moved to the center. Under these circumstances, legal recognition of same-sex marriage will not represent a change in the meaning of a venerable social institution through law, but rather an adaptation of law to a profound change in social meaning.

(Emphasis is Salam’s)

I agree. Social conservatives, as Salam points out, have every right to lash out against these cultural shifts (it is the very nature of conservatism to be reactionary about these things). And I agree with Salam’s assessment of what he sees as a core problem with the institution of marriage:

Unlike Andrew, I tend to think the legalization of same-sex marriage will have a pretty limited impact on the culture. The transformative impact he describes has more to do with child-rearing, which a large minority of same-sex couples has enthusiastically embraced. Relatedly, I think the fact that child-rearing is no longer at the center of marriage among non-gays is the main reason marriage has become a radically different and in some respects very vulnerable institution. To use Berkowitz’s framework, love, companionship, and sex are and always will be “negotiable.” So I tend to think both sides of the debate advance arguments that are pretty unconvincing, but that’s neither here nor there.

Viewed this way, the problems the institution faces at this point in history will not exactly be solved by putting a marriage amendment on the books. In fact, nothing short of legislating child-rearing would or erasing no-fault divorce will solve the problem. In fact, I would go a step further and say that the political process is quite hamstrung when trying to deal with the shifts in the cultural institution.

Salam sums things up for me nicely:

I’m thus left with a position that is easy to caricature and difficult to characterize. As a “brie-eating Harvard-educated God-denier,” I think of myself both as an enthusiastic participant in American life and also as an observer, at a slight tangent. In a quirk of biography, I have close friends who are ardent liberals and ardent conservatives, which could be why I’m un-eager to demonize or even dismiss arguments others consider beyond the pale. Because I don’t think Americans are all that different from, and certainly not superior to, Kazakhs or Poles or Senegalese or Frenchman, I don’t share Andrew’s high expectations. Narrowness and chauvinism and some level of bigotry is to be expected. Given how dramatically and how fast this country has changed in its mores and demographic composition, a subject Andrew addressed in “Goodbye to All That,” I tend to think, “Wow, Americans have handled this remarkably well!” rather than “Goddamnit, prejudice still exists in the hearts of men! Something must be done!” I mean, of course something must be done. One thing that must be done is the steady, decentralized establishment of equal marriage rights. But as 2007 draws to a close, and as my birthday rapidly approaches, I suppose I’m pretty optimistic about our capacity for decency and mutual understanding.

Now, other Christians may stand up and say “but…but…but.” Yes, yes. I am not suggesting that traditionally theologically conservative denominations alter their (biblically-based) views of marriage. But, living as we do in a pluralist society, we (speaking for Christians) should not expect to change hearts through the law (isn’t this point made in the New Testament by both Christ and Paul?). We don’t tolerate “Harvard-educated, brie-eating God-deniers” telling us how to live, so why should we expect them to tolerate the same?

Posted on 28 December 2007

Every day, for the last eight months, I have passed by a rather large house on Ellsworth Avenue. It is tucked back from the street, buffered by a low hedgerow and a gently sloping lawn, hidden from its neighbors by a row of pines on the right, and various trees and shrubs on the left. It is old, orange brick, with black shutters framing the windows and a large, comfortable front porch spanning its width, its roof held aloft by four white, wooden columns. Some days, I catch a fleeting glimpse of the occupants as they get the day’s paper, or perhaps sweep the front porch.

I know the house well, but not simply from my journey. In what seems like a lifetime ago, I spent a great deal of time within its walls. As the home of a good friend, it was a headquarters of sorts for our circle. Though the house was large, we spent most of our time on the third floor, in a relatively bare room, save for some furniture and a small garden of plants that occuppied the window ledge. There were two other rooms on the floor, but they were only for storage–dusty and dark and rarely entered. It was cold in the winter and hot in the summer, but, being young, we didn’t mind much. We were an odd bunch, I suppose, a group of girls from an all-girls private school and boys from the Catholic school, culled, in part, from a city-wide youth group. We were, as many youths tend, straight edge. While our classmates were off drinking and smoking, we were on the third floor, watching movies or perhaps playing cards.

I fell away from the group after a few years, for reasons I cannot quite remember (though likely caused by, at least in part, a dating relationship). I reckon I’ve not even seen one of them since (most likely because they have, like many, moved away). There are days, as I pass, that I wonder if I might my friend on the porch, and if I did, if I would even recognize her. And I imagine that the interior of the house looks the same after all these years, her parents sitting at the table in the kitchen, reading the paper and sipping whiskey and soda. But these are nothing more than fleeting thoughts, memories triggered by a familiar sight, and I move along, as I do every day.

Posted on 28 December 2007

After a fine Christmas Eve and morning (well, as good as can be with two sick children), I took advantage of the plentiful sunshine and spun over to Frick Park for a bit of off-road fun. Down to the hollow from the cemetery trail, then up Riverview (all the way up Riverview–not the muddy long cut across Lower Riverview). Golly, the top of Riverview is as steep as I remember it. (I recalled riding an endurance loop with an old friend–he was always pushing us harder each lap–no granny ring, downshifting and accelerating near the top. He wasn’t happy unless he was redlining the engine.) I cruised across the meadow, then descending the single track I climbed over the weekend. Trail conditions were mixed–very mucky at top, and fairly dry near the bottom. I walked a short, steep, very muddy section, in the name of preserving the trail (uhhhh, yeah, that’s it). The last bit of the trail is really good fun–lots of ups and downs, berm-ed corners, and some more technical bits. And again, nothing but praise for the bike, but I thought harder about different handlebars.

Total distance and ride time are a mystery.

Posted on 26 December 2007

Mmmmm. Dirt.

I have apparently forgotten how much fun it is to ride a mountain bike. I spun over to Frick Park, navigated through the hordes of people in the hollow, and then went up and down, up and down on the singletrack. No clue as to the total distance, and riding time was roughly 90 minutes. First, it’s really amazing how well maintained the singletrack is. Nice work, PORC. Second, the thing I used to hate about riding in Frick–you are either going donwhill or climbing–is now the thing I like best. I found myself riding down on mostly smooth double track, then climbing fairly steep singletrack back up. There was some walking involved, but that’s okay. I am anxious to return and ride down the final trail I climbed–mostly rolling singletrack, some banked corners, and no scary drops. Trail conditions were surprising good. The only really muddy bit was a stretch of Lowe Riverview Trail. I could have done a relatively clean ride had I just climbed Riverview proper.

Why did I stop doing this?

The Monocog itself felt very nice–stable, comfortable, predictable. I don’t mind the Ritchey riser bars, but I envision a set of off-road drops (gee, now I wish I didn’t sell the Midges). That position would be perfect, especially given the suspension-corrected fork that puts the cockpit waaaay up high. The WTB ExiWolf tires are fine, though they don’t deal with thick mud very well–the knobs were packed by the time I left, and cruising home along Beechwood Boulevard, the mud promptly sprayed everywhere, including a perfectly aimed ball right up my nose. I don’t envision replacing them, however, until they’ve lived a long and usual life.

Posted on 22 December 2007

“The Season of the Shark”
Yo La Tengo

Do you need someone to hide behind
Well I don’t mind
Well I don’t mind
Do you need to be alone to unwind
Well that’s alright
That’s alright
Sure I know its hard
Know that it’s that way for everyone
For every one
Something go wrong
Sing so low you even blame the sun
You blame is at the cause
Of the shadows on the wall
They’re not as bad as they appear
Could it be
that it’s the season of the shark

Do you need someone to help you through
Well I don’t know
I don’t know
Someone to take questions with you
I don’t know
I don’t know

I want to be
The one to make you feel okay right now
Some way, some how
So when I fall short
I sink so low that I even blame the clouds
For blocking out the sun
And the shadows on the wall
That’s why you feel alone

Could it be that it’s the season of the shark?

Please don’t be afraid
No matter how much out there scares you so
Scares you so
Just look around
If it’s not me then someone else you know
And I don’t belong at all
Ignore the shadows on the wall
They don’t mean a thing
Could it be that it’s the season
I believe that it’s the season
of theshark

Could it be that it’s the season of the shark

Posted on 21 December 2007

A fine morning for a commute this morning–temperatures hovering just above freezing with pouring rain. And people wonder how I deal with below zero weather. That’s downright pleasant compared to these conditions. At the moment, my clothing is drying all around my cube, including socks and gloves hanging out of desk drawers. Today’s mess again makes me consider a pair of real wet weather riding pants. We’ll see, though.

In other news, I’ve updated the front rack on the Surly with a Nitto Mark’s Rack.

I’ve used it only one day, but the laptop case fits rather well. I do need to upgrade my bungee cords, as they are a bit on the long side, and it’s hard to get the case really cinched down. It is nice to not have the steerer affected when the rack is empty–the Wald basket was noticeable even when empty.

You may also notice the new (to me) Vittoria Randonneur tires, which I got via a trade for the remains of the Pannier Project. These are swell, if only because they have a generator track, which allows the Dymotec to work in the rain with less pressure, which means lower resistance.

Posted on 13 December 2007

Despite the heavy snow falling, and the rapidly disappearing tarmac (under a blanket of white), I carried the Surly out of the basement and set off on the morning commute. I wasn’t really looking forward to it, but I had a slate of meetings that I’d rather not deal with over the phone, and, really, I just needed to go out in the snow and do the commute–to get over that hump, as it were. So off I went. The side streets through Morningside and Highland Park were snow-covered, but since it was a fair bit warmer than Wednesday, the level of grip was much higher. The narrow tires were cutting through the snow and hitting wet pavement beneath. Additionally, I began to discover the great mystery of What Streets the City Will Salt.

Hampton Avenue, on the other side of Heth’s Run, was covered with salt. Crunch, crunch, crunch. North Negley was wet-ish and slushy-ish. Outside of the tire tracks, the snow was decent, and again, I was cutting through the crud to wet pavement. At Centre Avenue, however, Negley became snow covered, though grip was acceptable. Ellsworth wasn’t terrible, either, but past Morewood, it was snow. I thought conditions would improve closer to Oakland, but I would be wrong. Fifth Avenue was completely snow-covered. Wha? I trailed a bus the entire way, so I could comfortably sit in the tire tracks without really blocking traffic. The Birmingham Bridge was, ummm, interesting–covered with snow, but with lower levels of grip since the surface was colder. Traffic was light, though, so slow and steady wins the race, and soon enough I was rolling into the loading dock. I asked one of the maintenance guys if I could borrow a bucket to throw some water on the bike to clean it off, and he suggested I just use the hose. Excellent. It’s nice to know the bike is rusting while I work.

In other news, I’m buying a used mountain bike for days like this, likely a 29-er Redline Monocoq. Whee!

Posted on 7 December 2007

While we were at the Trek store last night getting a new headset pressed into Jen’s new frame, I decided to pick up a new, larger cog for Surly. While the current 41×17 gearing has been fine, with the colder weather and slush on the roads, I thought it might be worth gearing down a bit for the winter. I also wouldn’t mind the decreased effort climbing out of Panther Hollow while loaded down with stuff. So I left with a 19 tooth Surly cog. Once the boys were asleep, the bike was in the stand, and I replaced the current 17 tooth cog (why I didn’t make use of my doubled-fixed rear hub is beyond me).

This morning, heading into the muck, I appreciated the more gradual effort to get up to speed, and it was nice to be able stay in the saddle on the few snow and slush covered inclines between our house and the office. I could notice a difference in my overall speed, but it wasn’t terribly slow (says the guy who has commuted on a 32×16 singlespeed mountain bike). I suspect I’ll appreciate the lower gearing on the ride home, though if I continue riding the Surly on the weekends, the light gear might be a problem. The ride itself wasn’t much of a problem. The side streets were a bit slick in spots, but the main roads were mostly just wet.

Posted on 6 December 2007