Thursday, September 22, 2011

Team Turtle: No Need For Speed


Christine and I did not rush through our tour of the Oregon Coast last week and we will not rush through the telling of the tale. Fans of my wife's writing will be happy to know that she jotted down notes each night of the trip and she said to me "it's gonna be a book, I had so much fun..."


The trip was wonderful, easily the best bicycle trip I've ever been on. We started out with the riders of the Amgen People's Coast Classic, a bunch of really wonderful, caring people. My friend Tai has organized one heck of a great ride and what we saw of the food, accommodations and support were all first rate. But while the Amgen riders were intent on covering the full length of the Oregon Coast in six days, Christine and I set our goal more modestly: we'd cover what ground we could at an unhurried pace. Our camping gear, the many parks along the way and our friend Michael gave us that luxury. Michael had agreed to pick us up on Saturday "wherever you end up."


While deciding to ride with the weight of panniers, camping gear and food probably slowed us some, Christine and I never doubted we made the right choices in how we tackled this ride. We made it to the mid-day stop with the group (admittedly at the tail end of the group) but when the clear sunny weather turned to headwinds and fog as we crept along the Manzanita Cliffs we were very glad to have both warm jackets and long pants with us. We couldn't help but wonder if the speedier, less encumbered riders had frozen their lycra-clad butts on these roads!



Christine gamely rode over the biggest bridge she'd ever ridden and climbed the biggest hills she'd ever ridden. She'd walk when she had too and she's more nervous around traffic than I am but I have so much fun riding with her.


My friend Hughie and a friendly local had both suggested Manzanita and the state park at Nehalem Bay as wonderful places and we verified the truth of both of these claims. While the Amgen riders were going to camp in Tillamook, Christine and I realized that our motto of "Half the pace, twice the fun" implied covering fewer miles per day. We were totally OK with that and I called Tai from the park at Nehalem Bay, wishing the rest of the Amgen riders the best ride ever and telling him that Christine and I would be on our own adventure for the rest of the week.



The Oregon Coast is a beautiful place for riding and the state publishes a wonderfully detailed map (PDF available here). The map gives details of terrain, the shoulder width of the road and the locations of camping spots. In many of the state parks, hiker/biker camping is $5 or $6 per person and even if the park is "full" a hiker or biker will not be turned away. Touring in September, past the peak of the tourist season, we never encountered a "full" campground but we did see quite a few other touring cyclists.


Our second day of riding revealed more of the wonders of the coast including an intricately carved wooden bench at Barview and a wildly rocky island.




A six mile jog inland north of Tillamook led us past dairy farms (despite appearances, this is not where they grow giant marshmallows!) to the lovely county park along the Kilchis River.




Our general pattern for the days would involve at least one stop at a cafe, bakery or coffee shop in the morning or some time during the day and at night at camp we'd fire up the Kelly Kettle. We used the kettle to heat water for all our camp suppers (Mountain House freeze-dried meals or Kraft Easy Macs) and for tea, coffee and hot cocoa. We also used it every morning for making our hot breakfast beverages.


On the third day, over a wonderful second breakfast at Muddy Waters in Tillamook, we had to make a decision.


The map and locals told us that the Three Capes Scenic Route would take us to Cape Mears and Cape Lookout but the road is very steep with a poor surface and many places with very little shoulder. Staying on 101 and then cutting over on Sand Lake Road would take us to the third cape, Cape Kiwanda on a better road with gentler grades. We'd already learned that pretty much all of Oregon is beautiful, so we opted for the nicer roads.



This section of 101 and Sand Lake Road were lovely and we got to see more of those cows that make all the wonderful cheese that makes Tillamook famous. Some of the farms we passed have been in the same families for generations and the Tillamook County Creamery Association is a farmer-owned co-op. I know some of my vegan friends justly rail against factory farms and the awful conditions some animals are subjected to, but I have to say that the cows of Tillamook county seem to be well-treated and well fed.

The U.S. Forest Service Park at Sand Beach is beautiful and while many of our fellow campers were there to run their ATVs on the dunes to the north of the lake, the campground itself, the lake and the beach were very quiet and peaceful.












On the fourth day we continued southward.


The Pelican Pub in Pacific City is located on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. It was too early for lunch, but we had to stop to enjoy the blue skies and the amazing view.






Further down the coast, we stopped for lunch at a friendly little place in Neskowin.



Taking our map's advice, we turned onto the low-traffic, very scenic Slab Creek Road. On the wooded road we passed a mom cycling to the school a few miles further on with an empty trail-a-bike. Christine thinks of herself as slow but I pointed out to her that she passed somebody. "Yeah," Christine said, "but she has a trailer." Christine had panniers, a sleeping bag and a Camelbak so I think that evens things out.


I couldn't figure out why Christine was not downshifting as we climbed. She was still on her middle ring as the grade increased. I guessed it was close to a 6% climb through the trees.

"Are your shifters working OK?" I asked, trying to be helpful.

"Yes," she hissed through clenched teeth, "my shifters are working."

"Can you see what gear you're in?" I further pressed, thinking perhaps she was unaware she still had lower gears to shift into.

"Yes!" Christine fumed, "I can see what gear I'm in. I'm sorry I'm going so slow on this flat road but I'm doing the best I can!"

"Uhmm, this isn't a flat road. This is the biggest climb of the day."

"What!?!"

"We've been climbing for miles. I think we're near the top."

"I was saving my low gears for the climb. I was waiting for the big climb."

"You're on it."

With a click she shifted to the granny gear. "I just thought lunch had made me very sluggish."

"Nope." I explained to her about the phenomena called the "false flat" and how the lack of long sight-lines in the woods make it hard to sense the lay of the land. "Any time you think you want to downshift, do it," I advised, "low gears are there to be used."


We looked for, but never saw, the Neskowin Creek Campground. Perhaps it is on the main road or perhaps it doesn't really exist, so we pressed on to Lincoln City and the state park at Devils Lake.


Rolling into Lincoln City at rush hour is not an experience I'd recommend. The main highway in Lincoln City is very busy with no real shoulder and the suggested alternate off the main road doesn't turn off soon enough to avoid the traffic squeeze. Fast moving cars had us retreating as quickly as possible to what slender bits of sidewalk we could find and the hilly side route was really not much of a respite either.

While Lincoln City did not place high on our list of favored places, it does have a state park right in the center of town. And Devils Lake is pretty.




At the hiker/biker site we met Chuck, a young man traveling from Arizona to Portland via longboard. Chuck manages to cover as much ground per day kicking his way along as we do pedaling!



Dawn of the fifth day was lovely with the sun rising over the lake. A heron, a beaver and I shared the quiet moment before the city woke.



Our camp breakfasts consisted of granola bars, tea or coffee and some sausage and cheese on a bagel. While this would be more than enough to get us rolling down the road, it wouldn't take much of an excuse to get us to stop at a likely spot for a "second breakfast" or an early lunch.


This morning the excuse was a bit of rain. We'd stopped at a small market to get some more food, some instant mashed potatoes for dinner and a nice big bag of peanut M&Ms for my on-bike munching. It was raining when we came out of the market and I explained to Christine that whenever it is raining and there is a coffee shop nearby, the weather is telling you to stop for coffee. Pointing across the street at Captain Dan's Pirate Pastry Shop I said, "I bet they have coffee there."


It turns out that Dan and Kathy have not only coffee but the best turnovers I've ever eaten and a quirky pirate-themed shop. It's a place that's fun for kids of all ages, even though it's rated Aargh!

Our plan of waiting out the brief rain worked perfectly and we rolled on down the coast. Picture postcard views revealed themselves with astounding frequency and we stopped often to marvel at the beautiful interplay of wind, water, rock, trees and sunlight.


The tiny town of Depoe Bay claims to have the world's smallest harbor and while it looked like a fine place to linger, we rolled onward down the coast.


Christine is happiest when the road has a good shoulder or a bike lane and northern part of the Otter Crest Loop is a great example of such a bike-friendly road. The road features a single southbound lane for the cars and lane for bikes. Since there is no northbound traffic on this stretch of road it completely avoids the heart-stopping "two motorhomes plus a bike squeezing onto one tiny road" problem.


Today's big climb crests at the scenic Cape Foulweather, which we could see rising up in the distance.


Christine had no illusion today that the road was flat and she geared down and turtled upward.


The weather at Cape Foulweather proved to be surprisingly good and we lingered there a while, taking in the view and checking out what may be the world's most picturesquely located gift shop.




Christine jokes that the SLOW signs are the ones that she has no trouble obeying.


Newport was much nicer than Lincoln City when it came to routing cyclists through town.


The bike route directed us onto quiet streets that featured artsy little shops and restaurants. If we'd needed a bike shop, Newport has one.



Christine is not a fan of big bridges, but the bridge in Newport features a great sidewalk.


The evening's campsite is South Beach State Park, just south of Newport.




At the hiker/biker site we see familiar faces, Jerry and JoAnne who we'd first met back at Nehalem Bay. They are headed down to California.

The sandy beaches in Newport are a result of the jetties that stick out into the water. The jetties block the wind-driven waves and sand deposits over time, forming the broad beaches.


Day 6, our final day of riding, began with a bit of excitement. I'm careful to tree my food in bear country, but I'd grown complacent on this trip and the raccoons took advantage of that complacency. They used their clever little hands to unzip my panniers and handlebar bag and stole the bagels, the cheese, the sausage and all my M&Ms! Jerry and JoAnne came over to commiserate (they'd used their BOB trailer as an anti-raccoon fortress) and offer up some of their food, but the roll-tops of Christine's panniers had resisted the raccoons so we did have some granola bars and Christine's munchie mix to get us on down the road.


It was another stunning day on the coast. Seal Rock attracts photographers and artists from around the world and even my cheap little camera captures some of the majesty of the morning.





Waldport reveals itself to be yet another quirky coastal town and we wisely stop at the SeaDog Bakery. Jeremy is friendly and for reasons I don't understand, wears a chicken cap. There is a chicken theme going on and the bakery features egg cartons on the walls. I do know that Jeremy makes some of those eggs into a really good breakfast. We also replace much of the raccoon-raided supplies with baked goods from Jeremy's place.



South of Waldport there are still more beautiful coastal views.





We stop at the small town of Yachats to pick up a few things for supper and then roll to our final campsite at Carl Washburne State Park.


The campground is on the inland side of 101, but a beautiful trail winds through the woods and leads to a wide wonderful beach. Walking with my lovely wife I know there is no better place I could possibly be.




Our friends Michael and Jennifer come and pick us up the next day and haul us back to Portland. We thank them as best we can with a bit of money for gas and we buy them pizza and tell them stories of our trip, but trips like this are always gifts that can never fully be repaid. The next day Michael rides with us to the Amtrak station and Amtrak and Sound Transit get us back to Issaquah. We are so thankful for the friends who made this trip possible and all the wonderful people who made the Oregon Coast such an amazing place to ride.

In the course of six days we rode 205 miles. This was the longest tour Christine has done to date, but we are already plotting our next journey. Those wheels, you know, they have momentum, and once you get rolling, it can be hard to stop.

We're paused for now but we'll keep 'em rolling.

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Pictures from the Oregon Coast, Going Home


Pictures from our final morning at Carl Washburne State Park and the trip home. Huge thanks to Michael and Jennifer who drove out from Portland to fetch us at the end of our trip and put us up in their home. The next morning Michael rode with us to the AMTRAK station. AMTRAK and Sound Transit got us safely and comfortably back to Issaquah.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Pictures from the Oregon Coast, Day 6


Pictures from day 6 of our tour. Our last day on the road ended at Carl Washburne State Park, about 14 miles north of Florence.

Pictures from the Oregon Coast, Day 5


Pictures from day 5 of our tour. The high point of the day was Cape Foulweather, where the weather was surprisingly good and the views were fabulous.

Pictures from the Oregon Coast, Day 4


Pictures from day 4 of our tour. We took the Slab Creek Road south of Neskowin and stayed Wednesday night at Devils Lake State Park in Lincoln City.

Pictures from the Oregon Coast, Day 3



Pictures from day 3 of our tour. We stayed Tuesday night at the very appropriately named Sand Beach U. S. Forest Service Campground.

Pictures from the Oregon Coast, Day 2


Pictures from day 2 of our tour. We stayed Sunday night at Nehalem Bay and camped Monday night at Kilchis County Park.

Pictures from the Oregon Coast, Day 1


Christine and I just got back from a wonderful week of bicycle touring on the Oregon Coast. The whole story will take a good bit of time to tell, but for starters I'll be posting some pictures from the trip.

Thanks so much to everyone who helped us make this trip possible and stay tuned for more pictures and a stories.

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Val Kleitz Memorial Cargo Bike Ride


"Have you seen Val around recently?" The question might sound like an odd one, coming as it did at the start of Val's memorial ride, but the speaker was my friend Joe and Joe believes things that not everyone else believes. For example, Joe believes that the world would be a better place if a lot more bicycles looked like this:


I wished I could honestly say "Yeah, Joe, I was riding with Val just yesterday" instead of thinking that cancer sucks and it took my friend away a few weeks ago and I really don't think I'll be seeing Val again any time soon.

It turns out I was wrong about that.

Because Val is everywhere here today. Sure there's the life-sized cardboard cutout of Val that we all get our pictures taken with, and there's Val's bike the Dread Nought being strongly ridden by Val's widow Connie and there are the numerous Val-tribute mustaches but there is something more, something that is the pure essence of Val.

Val could fix things. He wouldn't tell you your bike was too old, too heavy or too weird to do something, but he could tell you what you might do to make it better. Heck, he'd be happy to show you what to do to make it better. And he'd build things. He built bikes, he built rides, he built thousands of friendships.

And about a hundred of those friends are here today. And we're all riding.

We ride and we eat and even though there will always be this sadness in our hearts, sadness that our friend has ridden onward to somewhere we have yet to go, the joy of this day, this ride and the rides yet to come is overwhelming.

"Ride Well," Val advised. And we do.

I miss my friend, but you know I've seen him at least a hundred times today.

Ride well, Val.


Thursday, September 01, 2011

Team Turtle Update: Riding the Oregon Coast

photo by Bjorn Simpson

Even though we've yet to ride The People's Coast Classic, the ride has already shaped our summer. Christine has her bike and she's been biking to work every day. We've gone on wonderful day trips and a lovely overnight tour. But everything has not gone perfectly. Christine worries that she is not fast enough and may not have the endurance for the full ride. Our friend Michael, who had been planning on joining us for this trip, has an immovable work commitment the week of the tour. Life seldom goes as planned but we adapt to conditions and roll onward.

I explained why we are doing this ride back in May and since then we've managed to raise some money for this fine cause, but I had hoped we could raise much more. My friend Tai assures me that "You've both done fine. This is a rough year for fundraising and you've done a lot to get the word out about the ride." He also wants Christine not to worry about her speed or endurance, "Ride and see," he says, "a lot of folks are not fast and we do have support vehicles." So we will ride and see. But we also have our own plan if our pace turns out to be too turtlesque. We don't want to burden the ride.

Oregon has a beautifully detailed Oregon Coast Bike Map and it describes many camping options along the route. Christine and I love camping, so we are bringing our lightweight camping gear with us. If we do not keep pace with our companions, we'll adapt. Our friend Michael has generously offered to retrieve us from wherever we wind up on Saturday Sept 17th. We will ride & take pictures and do our best to document this lovely part of the world.

We know the ride will be beautiful and any funds we raise are going to the Arthritis Foundation. There is still time to pledge and the cause is a good one, so if you'd like to go to either


or


your contribution will be most appreciated.

Stay tuned to this blog for updates from the coast. Thanks for all your good thoughts and keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Sunday, August 28, 2011

The Kelly Kettle


On some of my fast & light bike trips, I forgo the comforts of hot food at the campsite and I live off cold snacks in camp and I get my hot food and coffee at mini-marts when I pass through town. But one of the great pleasures in life is having a hot beverage early on a cold morning or a hot meal at the end of a damp day, so more often than not I bring two pieces of somewhat more than minimal gear with me on my journeys: a Kelly Kettle and a 16-ounce Thermos. I've mentioned these items in passing in some of my tour posts over the years, but I often get asked about the kettle so I figure it deserves a post of its own.

Long before anyone invented the Jetboil, Irish fishermen were using a handful of twigs and a Kelly Kettle to quickly boil water. A detailed explanation of how the kettle works can be found here, but a diagram doesn't quite convey the wonder of this device in action. It only takes about five minutes for water to go from icy cold to a full boil in the kettle. Air gets sucked through the bottom vents and the conical shape creates a vortex which makes the fuel (twigs, paper, pinecones or whatever) burn very efficiently. The kettle gets a rumbling roar going and a jet of flame shoots out the top.


On a trip a few years ago, my friend Mark inadvertently brought the wrong kind of alcohol for his soda can stove, but he was able to cook his dinner thanks to the vortex action of my Kelly Kettle.


The Kelly Kettle is not really a stove, it's a device for boiling water but hot water is really all you need for many back country meals. On a typical trip I'll boil up one batch of water and use that to reconstitute a freeze-dried meal, pouring the boiling water into the food pouch which is wrapped in something insulating, like a sleeping bag or my wife's wool hat. While the food is soaking up the warm water, I run a second batch of water through the kettle and when it's boiling, the water gets poured into the thermos. The thermos water gets used to make instant coffee, cocoa, tea or whatever and water stays hot in the thermos for hours.


While the Kelly Kettle is bulkier than some stoves, I don't have to worry about packing or running out of fuel. I do tend to carry some dry paper, twigs and a small candle in the empty space of the kettle in case I wind up camping in a complete downpour and can't find any dry fuel, but I've always been able to find enough dry fuel to get the kettle going. A stiff wind, which tends to decrease the efficiency of most stoves, has the opposite effect on the Kelly Kettle. Wind blowing into the lower vents and across the top of the chimney amplifies the vortex effect.

The Kelly Kettle is one of those wonderful old things that works well and is very satisfying to use. My kettle's storage bag is a bit battered and the inside of the chimney is blackened with soot but I've used the kettle for years now and it'll probably still being going strong decades from now.

Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA


Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Portland Design Works Cosmic Dreadnought 110


For the past couple of years my favorite bike headlight has been the Planet Bike Blaze. While the Blaze is still a fine light, my friend Dan at Portland Design Works recently sent me a care package containing what is now my new favorite bike headlight, the Portland Design Works Cosmic Dreadnought 110. Now let me pause to make this clear: Dan is a friend of mine and he gave me this light. As a blogger & a bike shop guy I get stuff. Manufacturers are looking for exposure and feedback and I'm looking for things to write about. Do these freebies bias me? Probably, it's human nature to think kindly towards people who give you things. So, take that caveat into account. Also remember that this blog pays my enormous coffee bills via those little Amazon links so I've got an incentive to get you to buy stuff and this could all just be a big Jedi mind trick to get you to buy things. Welcome to capitalism! Keep your eye on your wallet.

Where was I? Oh yeah, buy the PDW Dreadnought, it's awesome!

Seriously, the Dreadnought is a lot like the Blaze. Here is a PB Blaze next to PDW Dreadnought:




While both lights use 2 AA batteries, the Dreadnought is a bit smaller and lighter. The clamps on the lights are similar enough that each can fit in the bracket of the other, but the PDW clamp is a bit more solid. Changing the batteries is a mater of twisting the head on the Blaze, while on the Dreadnought a screw on the bottom of the light holds the battery compartment closed. Since I've had my Blaze pop open one occasion while I was riding, I think the Dreadnought's battery arrangement is better.

While the Blaze is available in 1/2, 1 and 2 Watt versions (I own every one of them!), the Dreadnought uses a 1 Watt Cree XPE LED. Like the various Blazes, the Dreadnought can be set to High, Low or Flash modes and the package lists the run times as 10 hours on high, 15 hours on low and 25 hours on flash. I have not tested this, but experience tells me these times are probably optimistic. That same experience tells me that the run times of the Planet Bike and Portland Design Works lights will probably be very similar.

The beam pattern of the lights is also very similar. I tested the One Watt Dreadnought against the Two Watt Blaze, expecting the Dreadnought to be overwhelmed by superior fire power. The photo below shows the Dreadnought's beam on the left and the Blaze's beam on the right. Both lights are set to High:


I don't see much difference. Repeating the test with the One Watt Blaze, the Dreadnought was the clear winner.

I still think the Blaze is a good light, but the Dreadnought is a bit better.



Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Sunday, August 21, 2011

A True Tale of Bike Geek Love

Longtime readers of this blog will have deduced that I am rather fond of my wife Christine and that she is also rather fond of me. This past week she has been out east visiting her mother and brother in Rhode Island while I have been working here in Issaquah, building bikes, fixing bikes and selling bikes. I miss her and she misses me, as evidenced by a recent note which she concluded with:

"I miss you so much. I miss my Allant, too, but not nearly as much as I miss you."

Shortly before she left on her trip, Christine's bike hit a bump and her otherwise excellent Planet Bike Superflash Turbo Tail Light popped in two and the important lighty bits went bouncing away unnoticed. Later when I did notice the damage, I replaced the light with another from my light stash and secured the light extra tight with a rubber band cut from an old bit of inner tube.

But Christine & her Allant deserve better, heck they deserve the best, so today I purchased a welcome home present for her, a bright and lovely Portland Design Works Danger Zone Tail Light. Because nothing says I love you quite like a really, really bright tail light.

Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Friday, August 19, 2011

Laser Lite Lane: A Tail Light with Lasers


I recently got to test the most interesting bicycle tail light I've ever seen, the Laser Lite Lane. The Laser Light Lane is more than a normal LED tail light, it uses a laser to project a virtual bike lane behind the rider. In addition, the Laser Lite Lane uses tilt sensors to blink the LEDs and the appropriate lane stripe to indicate the direction of a turn.

I mounted the Laser Lite Lane on my Dahon, waited until dusk and had my son Eric shoot the following video, which demonstrates the key features of the light:


The following video (supplied by the manufacturer) demonstrates the tilt-activated turn signal feature:


My pal Mark Canizaro and some of his friends made this video showing the Laser Lite Lane in action on the streets of Seattle:


Mark and I both agree that the light really needs a more versatile mounting system. The mount is designed to fit on a seatpost and while it worked fine on my Dahon, on Mark's bike his rear rack blocked part of the laser projection. Also, many riders use a seat bag under their saddle. A mount or a variety of mounts that would let the light be mounted directly to a rack or seat stay as well as a seat post should be a top priority for the people behind the Laser Lite Lane.

The tilt-turn signal feature is something I found myself using most often when I was stopped at an intersection. By tilting my bike in the direction I intend to turn, the signal worked great. When riding however, a cyclist actually tilts the bike in the opposite direction when initiating a turn. You can see this happen in Mark's video. I think this would just confuse a following driver. It would be nice if there was an option to turn off the tilt signal or manually activate the signals to indicate direction.

While the lane does project behind the rider, I'm not sure the current power levels of the lasers are enough to mark the lane in a truly meaningful way in an urban environment. Riding with other riders, conventional LED tail lights such as the Planet Bike Super Flash or the PDW Radbot seem to provide a more effective means of letting drivers know that there is bike on the road ahead.

I think there is great potential in the Laser Lite Lane and I look forward to seeing the product evolve. Anyone interested in buying a Laser Lite Lane can send email to
info@3xlll.com. The current pricing for a single Laser Lite Lane is $149.00 US and a distributor kit consisting of two Laser Lite Lanes and a set of flyers and brochures is $199.00 US.

Keep 'em rolling & stay safe,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA




Thursday, August 18, 2011

Photos from Trek World



Last week I was in Madison & Waterloo, Wisconsin for Trek World, the annual Trek dealer show. Some of the most impressive things, like Trek's testing lab & the high-end carbon assembly areas, are photo embargoed so no photos of that stuff. This slide show is basically a dump from my camera phone of all the things I could take pictures of. In some cases the lighting is poor and my photographic technique is bad, but I figure any pictures are better than no pictures.

Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah, WA USA

Friday, August 12, 2011

Concept Bike: The Trek Sasquatch


I saw a lot of very nice bikes at Trek World, bikes that are actually in production and available for purchase at your local Trek dealer, but I also got to see some cool "thing we're working on" projects which may or may not ever be available for purchase. The Sasquatch falls into this latter category. When I originally posted the above photo on Twitter, one person asked "Why is there an axe on that bike?" That is clearly the wrong question for the target market. Speaking as someone who would love to own a Sasquatch, my immediate thought on seeing the bike was "Why doesn't my bike have an axe on it?"








Thursday, August 11, 2011

Madison B-Cycle Bike Sharing System


I just got back from the lovely town of Madison, Wisconsin where I was busy getting the inside scoop on what Trek has in the works at an annual conference called Trek World. While I was there, I got to check out Madison B-cycle, the city's bike sharing system. The system is pretty slick.

As a Trek World attendee, I got a complimentary 7-day access pass to the system but I did have to register a credit card because the credit card becomes the key that identifies a user to the system. Also, the system is optimal for short trips and to encourage this, trips under 30 minutes are free. If I'd opted to keep a bike for a longer period, that usage would be billed to my credit card. Using the system for a couple of days, I only did the short trips and never incurred any fees.

If you go to the B-cycle website, you'll get a full explanation of how things work, so I won't fully explain it all again here. What I will say is that the system works well, the bikes are fun & functional and the system is very easy to use.

There are a bunch of places where you can grab a bike, and maps showing you where other stations are and giving someone like me, who was new in town, a good orientation of where things are at.


The kiosk is like an ATM. Slide your card in follow a few prompts and in 30 seconds you have a bike.


Once you've swiped your card and made your choice, the racks unlocks the bike you've chosen.



The bikes feature a three-speed hub (fine for fairly flat Madison), a quick release seat clamp so you can easily adjust saddle height, full fenders, tough tires, a basket and a bike lock. The bikes also have a an electrical generator built into the front hub. If the bike is rolling, its lights are on.






You can return the bike to any B-cycle station and every time I returned a bike, I got a nice email informing me the return really worked. I never had a problem finding a bike when I needed one but I did ride by one completely empty rack at one point in my visit.

The B-cycle was a great asset to me as a visitor to the town. I got to see more, do more and have more fun in Madison than I ever could by walking or driving. If you ever are visiting a town that has a bike share system, check it out.

I'm very happy that Madison has a B-cycle system so I could keep rolling while I was in town.

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
now back in Issaquah WA USA and thinking we should get a B-cycle system here.

Saturday, August 06, 2011

Journey to Wood Creek




Dawn is breaking through the darkness of tall evergreens. I am nestled comfortably in the warmth of my sleeping bag, somewhere in that drowsy, contented place between dreaming and waking, when I become aware of two things: Kent is stirring beside me, and our tent is MOVING. “Yikes!” Kent yelps. “The tent is sliding!”

Last night we pitched our free-standing Big Agnes Seedhouse 2 in a very small not-quite-flat space near the edge of a 20-foot drop down to the rocky edges of a waterfall, and we are slipping toward that edge with alarming speed. I have visions of us falling, zipped inside the tent, crashing down against the rocks. Adrenaline kicks in, and I come fully awake, wailing incoherently, bracing myself and jamming my foot against a rock in an attempt to pin the tent to it, while Kent grabs hold of a tree root, trying to halt our downward slide. Gravity is not our friend at the moment, and I am very scared.

It seems a bit ironic, because up until now we have been having an idyllic adventure. We left Issaquah yesterday early in the morning, with our camping gear loaded on our Trek Allants. It was a picture perfect summer day, with beautiful sunshine and clear blue sky. I had actually managed to make it up the hill out of Issaquah without stopping for the first time ever, and we rode comfortably to Preston, through Fall City, then turning right on SR-202. We stopped to buy a small bunch of Rainier cherries for $1.00 at a roadside stand. After a short stretch along 202, we turned onto the quiet and pleasant Fish Hatchery Road, where we were greeted by a lady with her pug, and caught a glimpse of kangaroos. Fish Hatchery Road parallels the Snoqualmie River and then turns to rejoin 202 for a very steep climb up to Snoqualmie Falls. I stopped a couple of times to walk, while Kent pedaled along behind me all the way up.

Snoqualmie Falls is worth the climb. The waterfall is magnificent in the sunshine, and we are close enough to feel a bit of the spray from the overlook. We watch for a while, then find a bench in the shade to rest and refuel with trail mix and cherries.

Leaving the falls we turn onto Mill Pond Road which has a short, busy section. Big trucks roar by, and I am relieved when we come to a lovely quiet section beside a small lake. A bit past the lake, we arrive at the bottom of stairs leading up to the Snoqualmie Trail. I am doubtful about my ability to carry my loaded bike safely up the stairs, and Kent volunteers to carry both bikes (chivalry is not dead), handing me the camera so I can take pictures of him “being rugged and manly.” We enjoy the view of the river from the small bridge at the top of the stairs, then roll forward onto the Snoqualmie Valley Trail -- packed gravel and very pleasant riding -- all the way to North Bend. We stop at Scott's Dairy Freeze for lunch – a burger and chocolate milkshake for me, clams and chips and a chocolate malt for Kent, and an order of onion rings to share. Then we're back on the trail, arriving a couple of hours later at Rattlesnake Lake.

This beautiful green lake, set against the backdrop of Rattlesnake Mountain, is a popular spot for families in search of summer fun. Kids and grown-ups alike float on inner tubes and other inflatable toys in the water, or stretch out on quilts and beach towels, enjoying picnic foods and drinks. We rest in the shade of a tree, watching a cute little girl in her pink dress and sun hat wander around clutching the leash of her equally adorable Basset Hound named Lily. It's a bit of a toss-up as to who is taking whom for a walk, but they both seem to be having a good time. Eventually we get up to walk around the edge of the lake, stopping to read about the wildlife and the submerged city of Moncton, and to take pictures by a waterfall at the edge of the trail.

Rested and refreshed, we head up onto the Iron Horse Trail and ride along the gravel surface in search of a place to camp. The climb is not steep, but it is pretty relentless, and after an hour or so I am really starting to hope we will find a campsite soon. We explore the grassy open space at Ragnar, which is pleasant but has no water nearby. It's a very warm, sunny afternoon, and we've used up quite a bit of the supply that we started out with, so we were hoping to find a site with water along the trail. Kent thinks we'll find something “just a bit further up” around Garcia, so we head back to the trail and ride on. As the climb continues, I keep on gearing down until I am barely moving forward at all. I am trying to be a good sport about this, but it has been a long climb and there is no part of my body that is comfortable at this point. My shoulders ache, my hands ache, my butt aches, my legs ache, my feet ache.

We pass several groups of rock climbers, and I suddenly find myself riding out onto a trestle overlooking an impressive chasm. At least, I would be impressed if I were not terrified of heights. I'm rolling across, trying to follow the classic piece of advice, “Don't look down,” but unless I shut my eyes completely, the “down” hovers at the edges of my peripheral vision. Vertigo sets in. I cannot orient myself in space or feel any connection to the ground beneath me, and I start to scream. Kent assures me I am safe, and I know this in my head, but I can't feel it. I focus on his rear wheel and manage to make it across, where I collapse and try to breathe deeply, apologizing profusely for freaking out. Kent reassures me that it's fine, that “the trestles are freaky.” He also assures me that Garcia is “just a bit further up.” So on we go. There are more trestles, and I get off and walk across them. We finally reach Garcia, but there is no place to camp, no place at the side of the trail that is not steep rock. We ride on, and Kent moves further ahead to scout out possibilities while I plod, and plod, and plod, along in my low gear.

The trail is beautiful, my mind can barely hold all the richness and beauty of the day's experiences, and my bike is generally a joy to ride. But it's been a long day of riding for me nevertheless, and I am rapidly reaching a place where I can barely keep turning the pedals. My mind's soundtrack is playing an African-American spiritual:


It was inch by inch that I sought the Lord;

It was inch by inch that he saved my soul . . .

Keep inching along, keep inching along,

Jesus will come by and by.

Keep inching along, like a poor inchworm,

Jesus will come by and by.

We'll inch and inch and inch along,

And inch by inch till we get home . . .

Oh, trials and trouble on the way,

But we must watch (for a campsite!) as well as pray . . .


It's perhaps a bad thing for a lifelong Christian to be looking forward to supper and sleep more than the coming of Jesus, but I have to admit, I am getting to that point. This poor little inchworm is tired, and – did I say tired? – make that “exhausted” -- and running out of energy to inch forward any further. Finally I come to a stop, get off my bike, and start walking. Exercising different muscles for awhile helps, and at least I am continuing to move.

Kent rides back to me a few minutes later, and reassures me again that we'll find something “just a bit further up.” “This is why so many of your friends don't want to go camping with you,” I mutter darkly, smiling to take the edge off my words. “Your definition of 'just a bit further' is different than any normal person's.” He offers to go back to camp at Ragnar, but I tell him firmly that there is no way I am going over those “freaky” trestles again tonight. No “freakin'” way.

Eventually, we arrive at a little sign for “Wood Creek” where it appears that we can actually get off the trail. We venture into the woods up the hill (of course, it would be “up”) and find a small, sloping space with just barely enough mostly flat space to pitch the tent. I'm a little concerned about the steep terrain, but it has taken us so long to get here, and I'm really not anxious to hit the trail again. And in a weird kind of way, this place is beautiful. Impossibly tall trees surround us, giant silent sentinels that I imagine Tolkien's Ents would find congenial, somehow sinking roots into the steep slope. And there is a waterfall tumbling over the rocks to the ground far beneath us, and a short climb over a log to a spot where we can actually reach it. The idea of camping by our own secluded waterfall is enchanting. Kent hauls the bikes in from the trail and sets up camp while I move gingerly along the slope collecting fuel for the Kelly Kettle.

Kent fires up the Kelly Kettle while I open packages of Easy Mac into a small plastic container. The water boils quickly, and Kent pours it over the macaroni. “I need something to insulate this,” he announces, so I move carefully over to my bike and dig my wool hat out of a bag. It works perfectly. While I'm at it, I extract my spork from my Camelbak to stir in the cheese sauce. In a few minutes, we're digging into mac and cheese, a tin of smoked trout, the rest of the cherries, and chocolate. It tastes wonderful, the view of the trees and the waterfall is magnificent, and the company can't be beat. I am a blissfully happy inchworm, and amazed that I have actually inched along as far as we have come today.

The space for the tent is so small that one of us is going to have to sleep with our head over a tree root that is sticking out under the tent. I don't mind taking the root, but Kent insists (as I said before, chivalry is not dead). Darkness falls quickly in the forest. We settle into our sleeping bags, and are soon asleep. I wake up occasionally during the night, hearing the sound of water and thinking it must be raining, then I remember that wonderful waterfall . . .

“Yikes!” “Eeeeeeeeek!” -- that wonderful waterfall that we are starting to slide down into, as early morning light filters through the trees. I've got my foot jammed against a rock, fighting panic and clinging to Kent, and Kent is holding tight to the tree root.

“I think you have to get out so we can move the tent,” Kent says. “I'll hold onto the root.”

I don't want to release my hold on him or take my foot off the rock, but I know he's right. We have to get out of this predicament, even if it means risking further slippage. I nod, trusting him to hold on for both of us, and scramble out of my sleeping bag to unzip the tent, pitching my jacket and sandals out ahead of me, climbing out, grabbing the tent, bracing myself against a log, digging my heels in, and holding on tight to the tent. Kent climbs out after me, and we secure the tent back in its semi-flat space. We carefully crawl back into our sleeping bags, joking about falling for each other and inclinations and so forth, and Kent eventually dozes off again, but I'm wide awake, and happy just to rest, looking out at the sunlight filtering through the trees, and giving thanks that we've survived a bit more excitement than most folks prefer on a camping trip.

Eventually we get up, fire up the Kelly Kettle, and enjoy hot beverages, bagels, and granola bars. We break camp and are back on the trail by 9am. It's another beautiful day, a really good day to be alive and not crushed against rocks at the base of a waterfall. I am determined not to be such a weenie about the trestles today, and as we approach the first one, I take a leaf from Jan Karon's Mitford books, and invoke “Philippians 4:13!” Her main characters are all good Episcopalians who know that this Biblical citation is for “I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me,” and when confronted with any challenge from the sublime to the ridiculous, they go around chirping “Philippians 4:13!” at each other. It is actually fairly annoying, exceeding my saccharine tolerance at times, though I generally enjoyed the books. So I spice it up a bit as I roll across the trestle by punctuating my Scriptural citation with a bit of profanity. With each turn of the wheel, I settle into a rhythm. “Philippians 4:13, damn it! Philippians 4:13, damn it!” It certainly won't put me in the running for sainthood, but it gets me across the trestle! Yes! And every trestle after that! Woo-hoo!

We continue on down the trail, and catch a glimpse of a raccoon scurrying across, pausing to perch on its hind legs and look at us curiously. He seems to be out late for a raccoon; these nocturnal critters are normally back home fast asleep by dawn. I wonder if he's been out partying, maybe sneaking in after curfew? “But Mom, it was so cool; I saw two humans on the way home, riding funky two-wheeled machines! And the one with the mustache, on the black machine, pointed a little shiny rectangular thing at me, but I got away.”

Speaking of the funky two-wheeled machines, the Allants have performed superbly on this trip. They handle fine with the added weight of our gear, and are very comfortable to ride on the packed gravel trails. And in case anybody is wondering, Trek isn't paying me to say so. We just really do love and enjoy our bikes, like lots of other people. And the fact that they are so similar makes it easy for us to ride together, despite the fact that Kent is a much stronger rider.

We coast along happily on the trail, enjoying the downhill trip home that is the sweet reward for all our climbing yesterday. I don't think inchworms really undergo metamorphosis. But as I zip along on my Allant under the trees with Kent beside me, smiling, and sunlight shines down on us through the green canopy overhead, my spirit soars, and I think that I just might be flying.




Link to Map & Directions

Friday, July 29, 2011

Join the Bike Alliance for Five Bucks!

Click the picture to embiggen the poster and get the details. Use the coupon code 5BJOP3 and in the comment field tell 'em Kent's Bike Blog sent you.

Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Why I Bought A Trek Allant

Do you remember all those nice things I said about the women's Trek Allant back in March? It turns out they are all true. My lovely wife loves her lovely Allant and she gets this positively radiant smile on her face every time she rides it. And she rides it often. It's a nice riding bike, practical but not sluggish and, as she says, "very fun to ride. It likes to go."

Christine's bike got me thinking more about the men's version of the Allant. It's a good bike for this hilly, wet part of the world with its full fenders and wide range gearing. The swept back handlebars and ergonomic grips make for a comfortable ride. It comes complete with practical touches like a rack, a kickstand and bell.

Maybe all the practical considerations are what make the bike add up to something that just makes sense to me. Maybe it is that sense that appeals to my sensibility. But there is something in the Allant that makes me smile every time I ride it, that makes me think, "Yes, this is a very nice, very fun bike. It likes to go."

And my wife, my beautiful, wonderful, wise wife, said "If you want it, you should buy it." So I did. As Christine often says, "I married well."


Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

For Sale: Fixed Gear Snow/Ice Bike


I know most of the U.S. is broiling in a heatwave right now and at this instant it's almost looking like summer here in Issaquah. So probably nobody is thinking about snow. And this is probably the worst time of year to sell a winter bike. But I have a new bike in the incoming queue and not enough money in the bank. My bad timing can be your gain. If you want a fun machine for winter riding, I have a deal for you!

I originally wrote about Special Ed here and I explained why I think fixed gear bikes are awesome on ice here. While I stand by those words, I need to clear out a bike to make room for my new bike (details coming soon!) It's time for Special Ed to move on. Here are the details:

The frame is a 16" Specialized Stumpjumper made of butted Tange Cr-Mo.

The tires are 26*1.9" Nokian Mountain Ground carbide-studded tires with plenty of life left in 'em.

The drivetrain is a low, 34 tooth ring with a 20 tooth rear fixed cog, The cranks are Shimano Deore, so you can easily swap to a bigger front ring if you want taller gearing.

This is not exactly a hipster machine, it comes with functional front and rear brakes.

It also comes with big Mongoose pinned BMX pedals (good for biking in boots).

The saddle is a Salsa labeled WTB Rocket V.

The grips are Ergons with some sort of generic bar-ends.

The bike comes with a Blackburn mountain rack and custom ugly coroplast fenders.

This is an awesome foul-weather bike but really my Octocog can deal with everything I need to plow through these days. So Special Ed needs a new home. If you have room in your heart and garage for a new bike and a spare $200 in your wallet, this special bike can be yours. If you can pick up in the Seattle area, the bike is a flat $200 and I'd prefer to sell it locally. If I have to ship it, I'll charge you shipping costs plus an extra $25 to box the bike.

Summer won't last forever, so get your winter bike now! A few more pictures of the bike can be seen here.

Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA

Sasquatch Pedals: The Ergon PC2s

First off, it's disclaimer/disclosure time. Ergon grips and an Ergon backpack were key pieces of gear on my 2010 Tour Divide ride and the Ergon company helped me out with a pro-discount on the Ergon gear I used on that ride, so I'm inclined to think kindly towards those folks. Jeff at Ergon recently sent me a set of their new PC2 Ergonomic Contour Pedals and once again I'm impressed with Ergon's engineering and execution.

These are BIG pedals. Shown below are the PC2 pedals above my old set of Shimano Deore XT pedals.


Christine dubbed the Ergons "Sasquatch Pedals" and, as usual, she's come up with the right words of description. The PC2 pedals are available in two sizes, the PC2 S for people whose shoe size is 42 or less and the PC2 L for those of us who where shoes size 43 and up. The pedals I have are the PC2 L model. And they are huge.

While the pedals are big, they are quite lightweight. The word I would use to describe them is "plastic" but the pedal manual (yes, these big pedals come with an extensive manual) tells me the pedals are made of "weight optimized composite synthetics" so I'll amend my description to "very nice plastic". The pedals turn smoothly on what the manual assures me are "exclusively developed, ultra flat and maintenance free polymer journal bearings made by Igus® in Germany." Since I've only had the pedals a short time, I can't comment on their durability.


The PC2 pedals are not actually flat, they have a 6 degree twist in the surface to follow the shape of the forefoot and an inner stop guides your foot naturally into the proper position for good power transfer. Rather than spikes, lugs or any kind of a cleat, the PC2 pedals use a 3M material similar to the grippy surface of a skateboard deck to keep your foot in place. It all sounds rather gimicky but the pedals ride wonderfully.


The pedals have a narrow Q-factor (they sit very close to the cranks) and you will need an 8mm Allen key to install or remove them instead of the traditional 15 mm pedal wrench.


The PC2 pedals are designed to work with "normal" shoes and my Keens (which I wear everywhere) are a great match to the PC2s. I feel very connected to the pedals. The pedal has such a big surface it supports your foot without the need for a stiff soled cycling specific shoe.

I've been happy with a variety of flat pedals on my various bikes, so I don't "need" to put Ergon PC2s on all my bikes (and my budget effectively precludes that possibility). And if asked "What pedals should I buy?" I'll still probably answer with a long-winded "it depends". On my folding bike, I'll keep my folding pedals and on a more classic bike I'll probably have something more traditional than the PC2s. But when I'm headed out to Bigfoot country on my 29er, I'm riding the big Sasquatch Pedals, the Ergon PC2s.

Keep 'em rolling,

Kent "Mountain Turtle" Peterson
Issaquah WA USA