GR5: Genk to Stavelot

In the Netherlands, the GR5 was an interesting ramble through town and country.  In northern Belgium, the route frequently follows managed forest tracks and local mountain bike routes, often abandoned doubletrack.  Passing near Maastricht and Liège, the routes enters the famed Ardennes Mountains, famed for being the only mountains in Belgium.  If this were Pennsylvania, which is how it looks from squinted eyes atop a hill, we would joke that these are mere hills.  But the same is true both here and there, these are steep hills approaching 1000ft in elevation range, and after riding up and over a couple I am happy to regard them as mountains.  Finally, this is real mountain biking.  The diversity of the trail has not diminished, simply more time is spent off-pavement and even off-road– yes, there is a distinction.  Some hiking required, and many challenging ascents and technical descents, but mostly pleasant riding.  ’Bikepacking the Ardennes’ may be a ready made route, and an instant classic.

These images are from the last three days, as hills turn to mountains.  Only 1550km to Nice.  Not sure if we are going there.  Always passing through tunnels.  

We never leave at first light, but we ride until the last hour almost every night.  The sun retires past 10PM, lingering below the horizon for another hour.  As the days get warmer, evening becomes a nice time to ride.  

Mornings are equally nice– cool and full of excitement for the day.  Change is the essence of this route, and scouting the next turn keeps us busy all day.  Shopping for food, picnicking, and swimming revive our muscles and our interests in riding.  Belgian beer, chocolate, and waffles keep our energy levels high for the next climb.   More than a few locals have been interested in our curious ‘touring bikes’.

We share the route with a few others, including farmers, cattle, cars, hikers; nettles, raspberry brambles, deer ticks, tall grasses, overgrown trees, mud, rock, roots; and very infrequently, other cyclists.

The Ardennes are wonderful.  Growing up in rural New York, I hunger for these kinds of landscapes.  Touring in the Rockies the past few summers and living in New Mexico, I had forgotten about humidity altogether.  Mud and nettles; rocks and steeps; cities and steps all got together. 

Many stone buildings do not have provisions for exterior plumbing, which can make it hard to find unattended water sources.  Cemeteries are a safe bet.  In the mountains, streams are always found in the valleys.

Camping has almost never been easier.  Much of the trail passes through public forests.  A bench, like a picnic table, is a nice feature.

In 2009, the GR5 marked its 50th anniversary.  

Here, our descent to Stavelot–  a half-day in the life of a GR5 thru-biker.

 A tunnel completes the route to town.  Both natural and manufactured features make the GR routes exceptional.  The footpath shares this tunnel with a small stream.

Riding south, hoping to reach Luxembourg City this weekend.  A friend from Tacoma performs with The Paperboys at midnight on Saturday.  

Nouvelle Belgique

Belgium is a good place to ride a bike.  The GR trails have been a better host than we could have even imagined.

Thanks to Jo (of the circus), Matthieu and Annelise for welcoming us back into the country.  Thanks to Scott for the fine bikepacking equipment; each day my framebag fits more 75cl beers than the last.  Between Bruxelles and the border of Luxembourg, Lael and I found some hills, soon to become mountains.  Real mountain biking, plus the usual European diversions, coming soon.

GR daydreams

My visit with my grandmother in her final days has strengthened my resolve to live simply and to live well, as she did.  My thoughts return to Europe and to our continental scavenger hunt.  I look forward to chasing red and white blazes again.  I look forward to bumbling around the world on bikes with Lael.  I look forward to a vigorous outdoor life.  I am on a plane back to Bruxelles right now.

Ah, the good life, even if a little work.

Hey Lael!  Miss you, see you soon.

Philadelphia at 𝑓/1.7

Walking, mostly, with my little brother and my new Olympus E-P3 and Panasonic Lumix 20mm f1.7.  Many images were shot with the lens wide open to explore the creative potential of this particular lens.  Philadelphia today, Jersey shore tomorrow, return to Bruxelles Wednesday.  Soon to be a lot more bikes and riding here again.  For now, lots of cameras.

Lael’s new office

For many cyclists an iPhone is a self-contained office, including a basic camera with photo editing and publishing apps.  Lael and I traveled for years without any electronics, eventually graduating to a single iPod Touch that we shared.  We mapped routes, sent e-mails, and even applied for a job from the small touchscreen (I got the job!).  In fact, I started this blog two years ago on an iPod Touch, on a whim.  However, the leap to a proper camera requires a laptop to upload, edit and publish photos.  For a heavy workload including writing and photo editing, that is still the best way.  If your needs are less demanding, the new generation of touchscreen tablets provide a more portable and affordable solution to cyclists.

I purchased a new camera and a new lens this past week.  Lael gets my old camera– an Olympus E-PM1– with the 14-42mm kit lens.  For just over $200, I picked up a 32GB Google Nexus 7 tablet for her as well.  To upload images to the Nexus, I sourced a generic Micro-USB (male) to USB (female) converter, and a miniature SD card reader.  Additionally, I purchased the Nexus Media Importer from the Google Play store, a source for apps, games, and media.  Also included below: the USB wall charger for the Nexus 7 and the battery charger for the E-PM1.  The charger and power cord for the camera battery are bulky and heavy.  Lucky for Lael, the E-PM1 uses the same battery as my new E-P3 camera so she won’t have to carry a charger.  Aftermarket chargers that plug directly into an outlet are available, and they should save weight and space.  This will be Lael‘s new office.

The E-PM1 camera body is barely larger than an iPhone, and begs for a quality pancake lens to make a nearly pocketable system.  This kit zoom is versatile, and will be familiar in Lael’s hands.

This lens is lightweight and packable, as it retracts into itself when not in use.  Extended on the left; retracted for storage on the right.

Barely $10 of electronic hardware and a $2.99 app transform the Nexus 7 from a fun e-reader and web browser into a mobile office for a traveling amateur photographer.

The Nexus 7 is less than half the size of my MacBook Air and should have no trouble finding a home in a framebag or handlebar bag.  The claimed weight is a mere 340g, less than the weight of most fatbike tubes.  However, if you are riding a fatbike you should be riding tubeless anyway.

While I drooled over the OM-D EM-5, I settled for the E-P3 at one-third the price.  So far, it is everything I wanted and nothing I don’t need.

The Olympus E-P3 is available for about $375 from several online retailers.

Check Lael’s Globe of Adventure in the coming weeks to see the new system in action. We will be back on the trail in Belgium at the end of next week.

・ Sep ・ 64

Syracuse, NY.  September, 1964.  My mom and her new Columbia bicycle.

Perhaps, if not for this moment: She may not have bought a Lotus mixte road bike in the early 1980′s.  She may not have borrowed the trailer from the family down the street and towed me into the countryside more than a couple times, out beyond the asphalt plant, beyond the dairy farms and the corn fields.  She may not have held my seat as I teetered on two wheels, falling more than once, knees bloodied before bed.  I would not have enjoyed riding so much to ignore the fact that I had inherited a Cabbage Patch themed bicycle from my older sister, with tassels, white wicker basket, banana seat and solid rubber tires.  I would not have graduated to pneumatic tires and a more BMX-themed bicycle, and slipped on the gravel at the bottom of the driveway while cornering at high speed, loosening more than one tooth. I would not have received a 5-speed bike with shocks for my birthday, and proceeded to huck it off every available driveway end, where the curb slopes upward at such an angle to make a real sweet kicker on a small-wheeled bike.  I would not have spent the money from my first lawnmowing job on a real bike, a mid-nineties Trek 820 Mt. Track.  It was orange.  I would not have actually taken it off-pavement and into the hills and forests, as the marketing suggested.  I would not have begged for a Gary Fisher Tassajara– a seemingly real, real bike compared to the Trek– and ridden some real trails on it and enjoyed it.  I would not have taken the Fisher to college, where it was eventually stolen and replaced by other bikes and skateboards and things with wheels, including an old Sears three-speed not unlike the Columbia from 1964.  I would not have purchased a singlespeed Bianchi San Jose with my first paycheck as a dockhand at the marina, to replace the functional, but failing three-speed.  I would not have commuted every day for two years in Tacoma before eventually riding 45 miles to Seattle with Lael on a fixed-gear iteration of the San Jose, because we didn’t have money for bus fare.  We would not have decided that we could; we would not have declared that we would ride across the country.  We left that fall, Sept 2008.  It has been five years.

If not for that moment in Syracuse, NY in 1964, the last five years would look very different.  Thanks mom.

Bunyan Velo, Issue No. 2

Bunyan Velo, the celebrated grassroots e-magazine by and for real cyclists has returned with a second issue.  This free publication features compositions of words and images from Cass Gilbert, Casey Greene, Joe Cruz, Alex Dunn, Daniel Malloy, Glenn Charles, and Erik Jensen, among others.  This is the healthiest scoop of adventure cycling in any one place, ever!

Lucas Winzenburg, the editor-in-chief and creator of Bunyan Velo has worked hard to compile the efforts of over a dozen riders and writers.  Individually, they each lead busy lives as professors, engineers, velojournalists, fishermen, and cartographers, while Lucas is a full-time student.  This issue includes no more than three advertisements, each as visually stunning as the features, and only from companies with a sense of adventure.  Consider a donation to Bunyan Velo to ensure a healthy and ad-lite future, or purchase a digital copy to enjoy offline.  I just donated $10 towards Issue #3.  Tell your friends! 

Top image: Cass Gilbert; Bottom: Glenn Charles

Electric eastern forests

The conjunction of New Mexico sunshine with a temperate northern climate equal late-spring electricity in Northern New York forests.  Local residents, and flora, are equally excited at the passing of Memorial Day, which is referred to as the unofficial start of summer around here.  These images are imperfect on their own, yet in series they speak to the dramatic range of a short walk in the woods with my mom.  Some have been edited, other have not.

I purchased my first camera exactly a year ago– an Olympus E-PM1– and have learned greatly from the experience of shooting every day in diverse situations.  My skills do not yet exceed the capacity of the camera, although there are times where I wish the camera or the lens could do things a little differently.  I am looking to multiply my camera collection to give Lael a dedicated system, rather than to borrow mine.  I am mesmerized by the Olympus OM-D, and some modern Panasonic and Olympus prime lenses.  However, less expensive camera bodies are also exciting, leaving a lot more money to experiment with lenses.  I am coming to realize that there are a range of fully-manual legacy lenses that can be adapted to fit M4/3 camera bodies– great glass at a great price, or even decent glass for really cheap.  These days, I operate aperture and shutter speed manually, and use the auto-focus function on the camera with the manual focus engaged.  This allows me full imaging control, with the convenience to shoot one-handed while on the bike, or in other compromising positions, while focusing manually when both hands are free.  I use the zoom to compose images so that I almost never crop images in Lightroom, although much of the time I don’t touch the zoom at all.  Finally, I want something that performs better in low light.  My surroundings are constantly changing.

For anyone looking for an excellent camera and an inexpensive entrance into the popular Micro Four-Thirds format, the Olympus E-PM1 is now sold for under $300 with the 14-42mm kit lens.  For the price, it is a solid workhorse for an aspiring photographer.

Our walk encircled the Tug Hill State Forest along popular winter XC-skiing trails, and traced the rim of Inman Gulf before returning through the forest to the trailhead.  Deep riverine gulfs are common around here as streams downcut into the fractured sedimentary rock of the Tug Hill Plateau following the last Ice Age.  The plateau rises nearly 1000ft from the lowlands surrounding Lake Ontario, capturing over three hundred inches of snow annually.  Native hardwoods dominate these forests, and my memory, including sugar maple, American beech, black cherry, red oak, and hophornbeam.  Streams splash into the depths of Inman Gulf from all sides.

City to country: Bianchi San Jose

My first adult bike a was a late nineties Trek 820, a USA-made rigid cromoly steel mountain bike.  It was paid for in part by lawnmowing money.  I was thirteen years old.  Several bikes followed, including a new Gary Fisher Tassajara and a used Cannondale touring bike, as well as several cheap singlspeed and three-speed cruisers purchased at garage sales after the two previous bikes were stolen.  This Bianchi San Jose marks my reintroduction to bicycles in 2006, following a brief hiatus where I commuted everywhere by longboard.  This bike was paid for by the entirety of my first paycheck as a dockhand at a marina.

Originally, the Bianchi San Jose came as a tough singlespeed cross-bike, built more for commuting than racing.  With versatile 32mm tires and a 42-16 gearing, I rode everywhere, especially between work and home.  The first day riding home from work, I was thwarted by a steep uphill grade.  The second day, by the same route, I bit hard and muscled up the hill.  I count singlespeeding and fixed gear riding as significant developmental periods in my time as a cyclist.  At the time, I was an aspiring mechanic that would sometimes make things worse, rather than better, by attempting repairs.  A singlespeed bike was the perfect place to practice my skills. 

The bike gained a pair of eggplant purple deep-V Velocity rims, a Brooks Professional saddle and narrow road tires, along with an absence of brakes.  It was a your average urban fixie, although I thought it above average.  I chopped a pair of old drop bars into a homemade bullhorn bar, eventually turning them backward for a narrow upright position.  It is this permutation that I liked best.  It is like this that I rode to Seattle for the first time, from Tacoma, and decided that a cross-country tour was possible, and eventual.  I still have not ridden cross-country, but that autumn I left on my first bike tour.  

The bike now lives in uptsate NY.  It was a gift to my brother for his high-school graduation, at which time it gained an 8-speed Nexus internal gear hub, practical urban tires, full-coverage fenders, swept-back handlebars, a rear rack with a basket, and a bell.  It has become my daily rider when visiting home.  

The details of the build include: Shimano Nexus 8sp IGH, CST Selecta 700x38mm tires, SKS P45 Longboard fenders, Velo Orange Tourist handlebar, Delta rear rack, Wald basket, and Velo Orange brass bell.

The Rocket Ring is drilled for both 110mm and 130mm 5-bolt BCD.

Full-coverage fenders, IGH, puncture-resistant tires, and reflective sidewalls– not far from the average Dutch bicycle.

Shimano internal gear hubs boast incredibly light shifting, even under moderate load.

The front mudflap nearly reaches the pavement, keeping feet dry even through puddles.

The basket is zip tied to the rack, as recommended by Rivendell and others.  It is best to wrap the zip ties several times before locking them tight.  Here, they are wound around the rack only once.

Cantilever brakes provide excellent stopping power when properly adjusted.  Brick-colored Velo Orange brake pads offer excellent stopping power, and are a less expensive upgrade than Kool-Stop pads.  They work very well in wet weather.

The basket is huge, and conveniently carries a salad for six, dressing, a rain jacket and my Porcelain Rocket purse/camera bag.  Actually, the Porcelain Rocket bag is designed as a front bag, to be used in front of the handlebar roll or drybag.  With a shoulder strap, it works well around town. 

It has been great fun to explore new and old ideas.  I may seriously consider an IGH in the future on a personal bike, and my next pavement touring bike might just have a couple of baskets.  

 

 

 

Everything I know

The smell of wild scallions by the roadside in Belgium reminds my nose of dill and parsley drying in the attic.  Nettles and raspberry brambles claw at my ankles and remind me of exploring the depths of the garden as a child, somewhere between butternut squash and the fence.  The dewy emerald rewards of a climate rich in sun and rain feel like home, no matter where in the world I find them.

Maslo– Ukrainian for butter– with every meal, “makes you strong”.  Desserts, and beets, are similarly good for bodily constitution.  Hard work is the only way, and most things require some hard work.  God, country, and family are somewhere on the list, either before or after maslo and varenyky and beets.  These are the feelings that constitute home.  This is an elegy for my dying Ukrainian grandmother.

Now, my grandmother is 94 years old.  She no longer has an attic full of parsley, she does not clear slugs and brambles from her garden, and she has largely cleared her table of worldly affairs.  She has lived longer than my grandfather and many others that travelled to the United States during the same period.  She outlived the second war, emigration to a foreign country as a young widow with a young child, and survived a state-wide artificial famine in Ukraine in her childhood.  She traveled to the United States in search of freedom, something I’ll never understand the way she does as I’ve never lived without it.  Yet, I benefit greatly from everything she has done and, necessarily, everything that has happened in her life.  She has always provided food, shelter and love for her family.

The world is a rapidly changing place which has passed her by in many ways, as it often does to people nearing one hundred years.  She never drove a car, used a computer, or threw anything away that could be used again, and again, and again.  When she moved out of her house several years ago, we found hundreds of small plastic yogurt containers.  As a child. I remember enjoying the lemon yogurt that originally came in them, and then using them to drink water, milk, or homemade raspberry chai.  She never threw them away, and must have found a hundred other uses for them around the house and in the garden.

At the dinner table, each of my grandparents would use and re-use a thin paper napkin as many times as possible before finally disposing of it, usually a handful of meals per napkin.  The hand soap in the bathroom was vinegar, as a I recall.  For entertainment, we would pick raspberries or peel potatoes, perhaps even take a walk to the park.  Several years ago, I took her to the supermarket for the first time in nearly a year– she exclaimed, “how many kinds of cheese do you need?”.  I still don’t know for sure, as I love cheese, but the answer might be only one.  Because of her, I know the difference between need and want.  More than nostalgia, these memories serve to inform my adult life.  I am consistently astounded by how nearly my own philosophies mirror that of my grandparents, and finally, that I now love beets.  I used to think that everything I knew I learned from traveling by bike, and caring for my needs.  I now realize that I learned everything first from my grandparents.  Live simply, and live well.

To eulogize the living is the best way to celebrate life.  Before this is no longer possible, I am going home.  Europe can wait.  I have reached Bruxelles by way of the GR12 and by now, I am on a plane to upstate New York.  I will remain there for several weeks and will return to Europe when the time is right.