Big Cats

As the autumn here at the Northwest deepens, I love traveling to the Bay Area, even though it is usually for more work and not much relaxation. Fall is generally enjoyed most by the SF dwellers for its clear days, though I feel best when the mercury is above 80F and thus prefer the South Bay.

Flying to and from San Jose is so easy, and the drive to Los Gatos and Marketa's mountain hideaway even better. I actually thought Los Gatos meant male cats (el gato vs la gata) but apparently the Spanish plural does not distinguish the feline sexes.

Last weekend weather was so nice and warm that we moved our work outside and managed to make a big progress on "theculminationofafour-yearworkthatyouwillallembraceandlove-mfTHESIS".

You have to love the technology that allows us to be connected to all our information sources even where the cables don't reach (notice the tiny mi-fi mobile WiFi hotspot device?). But both days, I longed for a bike ride, especially when looking towards the Demo Forest (the ridge behind the flower pots). Alas, no bike available, all four of our bikes were sadly hanging in our Seattle garage where  rain water leaked on them. A five mile run on Aldercroft Heights road was a poor substitute, although the 1 mile climb back surely pulled on my Achilles tendons. The heavily barb-wired gate of San Jose Water company land made us turn around, but also indicated a possible connection to unexplored areas via the Wrights Station fire road.

Back home, low clouds, grey skies, drizzle, falling leaves and chilly mornings were quite a contrast. More work, long days in the lab, long evenings at the computer. After spending a Saturday morning removing the soaked remnants of four huge tomato plants from the deck, I went to explore trails at Cougar Mountain, using this course map of a 10 mile running race:

Cougar Mt. is one of the three prominent hills surrounding Issaquah, sometimes called "The Issaquah Alps". I hope that whoever named them "Alps" meant that as an irony. These wooded hills contain networks of fantastic trails both for running and mountain biking, but the Alps they ain't.

Fall trail running is actually great, there is decay in the woods but at the same time it is as if the Nature would be saying "see you in the spring". Wet roots and rocks required more attention and colors were interesting.

I managed to slog around the course in 2:18 hrs, stopping frequently to check the map and signage. Ten miles was more than I ran in a while and my legs felt pretty mushy at the end, and I almost rolled my left ankle twice - got to be more careful with these 2 inch thick soles (Hoka). But the cushioning of these shoes is just great and this fact plus perhaps sleeping with compression sleeves made the old legs feel fresh come Sunday morning.

So Sunday was another "big cat" day: Tiger Mountain closes for mountain biking on October 15 and this was the last chance of the season. I guess "sunny" forecast in mid October means low clouds and fog until 1PM, then few sunny breaks and more low clouds rolling up the hillsides by 5PM. The ride starts with a decent fire road climb, but I felt great and pushed the pedals with energy to spare. At the summit I put a Goretex jacket on, dropped the seat post three inches (I really really need a 1x11 drivetrain which would free the left side of the handlebar for a dropper seat post lever!), and hit the trail. The top part is a superb pump track and I grinned like an idiot going a bit too fast. The middle part of the mountain happened to be in a thick fog, which made the riding a little risky with low visibility and fogged up glasses.

My idiotic grin disappeared from my face at the lower section after getting my chamois soaked through by riding in a stream of muddy water and numerous puddles. Many rock and root drops landed in puddles where you could not see how deep it was and what lurked underneath the surface. Riding wet roots and rocks downhill is a real mountain biking! The final part of this ride on a deep green XC trail was just as good. Bye Tiger, I love you!

End of Summer

Someone told me that summers at Pacific Northwest are the best kept secret. I have to agree: sunny and warm days, even too hot sometimes, nights cooler, no bugs, nature green, lakes warm for swimming and high country trails accessible for hard climbs rewarded with fantastic views.
Then it all disappears all of a sudden and the rains move in. Even an NPR guy said "It's time to put away your sunglasses for eight months". So I did. And I took the patio furniture off the deck and put it in the garage. Then followed the grill. And then I harvested tomatoes from the four plants that grew so wildly over the summer but these poor little things never got enough sun to ripen.

A three-day heavy rain storm that dumped 10 inches of water in the Cascades and changed our residential street into a raging stream on Saturday afternoon upon us, I sat at the computer whole day yesterday and most of today, working on my two other (unpaid) jobs, drinking one cup of coffee after another and spiraling into a gloomy mood. I even politely declined to join friends for a hike around the Discovery Park, but the truth is, my sinuses and allergies were going crazy today. Later in the afternoon, I decided to use the worst method to cheer myself up - shopping therapy. While researching some trail running shoes online, I found out that there was a running store couple of blocks away, which carried all kinds of interesting brands: Altra, Hoka One One etc. I read some reviews about the Altra Lone Peak zero drop shoe and how much cushioning it had. I really needed something better with more grip for the fall wet trails than my old Salomon Missions. So I went to the Seven Hills Running store, found it empty but a young store employee, an avid trail runner, was more than willing to talk gear and trails. To my disappointment, the Lone Peak are really minimalist shoes and I am too old to try if my feet remember how our ancestors used to run. My wife runs only in Hokas, she has probably four or five pairs of all models to rotate, but I have never really considered them for myself. One, my weekly mileage is pathetic, and two, I always thought these shoes have an advantage after 50km or more. But I tried the Stinson Trail model on, it fit like a glove, but there was a strange inward rolling feel, almost like there was no support for the big toe. Then I tried the Mafate 3 and they felt much more stable. I really wanted to wait for the Rapa Nui model which will arrive here in November (reviewed here), but in a spur of the moment bought the Mafates.

My first pair of Hokas!

 By the time I got home the rain subsided a bit, so I put them on and ran the ~ 9 mile loop around Magnolia and Discovery Park. It is about 6 miles on pavement and three miles of trails. The first thing I noticed was how the tread squirmed on the concrete. Like my Schwalbe Nobby Nics at 25 psi on tarmac! The second thing I noticed was the grip: no slippage up steep hill on a black slimy fungus laden concrete of our residential sidewalks. Even wet manhole covers felt safe. The third thing I noticed after about 3-4 miles: these shoes felt like any other shoe I ran in, just so much more comfortable. And finally on trails, these treads stuck to wet roots, decaying leaves covered wooden stairs and bridges and rocks like the proverbial shit to a shirt (OK, it is a Czech proverb).

I understand, these kickers are made for a much more abuse than I will ever be able to subject them to, but the comfort, traction, and hopefully some positive effects on my knee joints make them the best running shoes I ever owned. I suspect that when the Rapa Nuis arrive in two months, I will make another trip to Seven Hills.

Touring Setup

Last year, thanks to a long involuntary paid vacation, I could take two weeks off for a bike tour. John and I rode from San Diego east along the Mexican border then north over the peaks and valleys of the Sierras and finished 800 miles later at Mono Lake. Since then, austerity and sequestration rule the world, I get paid half of my previous salary and work lots more. Perhaps, that's how it should be for everybody and the whole world would be a better place? At least I contribute!
Oftentimes, I think about the vicious cycle of slaving long hours for some capitalist pigs just to make enough for rent, gas, food, utilities, medical bills and to keep all the junk we surround ourselves with running. How much money would I need to bike from place to place, carrying all my earthly possessions on the bike? I know, stuff breaks and sports equipment and bike parts are expensive. Yet I dream about stepping out of the door, hopping on a heavily loaded bike and perhaps four, five months later ringing a door bell at my mom's place. "Hi mom, just riding by and I thought I would stop by for a few days and do my laundry!"

The question is where to pack the minimum necessary items for a long bike trips in a way that would not collapse the bike and make it still rideable uphill? This problem has been addressed by thousands of people, there are setups  described on the Internet, and many companies make high quality bike touring gear. Here is a table comparing just a few of those products - basically Revelate Design bags vs. Thule universal bike rack and Ortlieb panniers:

 

Product	weight [oz]	weight [g]	volume [liters]	cost $
Tangle M	9	255	4.5	70
Sweetroll	10	280	14	90
Harness	9	255	0	75
Viscacha	13.8	400	14	135
Pika	12.6	360	12	130
Pack n' Pedal Tour	35	990	NA	89
Rack frames	15	425	NA	18
Ortlieb Roller classic	67	1900	40	150

A lightweight setup using Revelate Designs Tangle frame bag, a handlebar mounted Sweetroll and the Viscacha (larger of the two) seat bag would weight 935g, have volume of 32.5 liters and cost $295. Under a kilogram for all three bags is very light and I see why this is a choice of many long distance bikepackers as well as racers (Tour Divide, for example). Yet 32.5 liters of scape does not seem like enough for self-supported bike trips which would include camping.

Last year, touring the Sierra Cascades route on a road bike, I had the two Backroller panniers about 75% full and carried a Camelbak Hawg (about 13 liters). I did not carry a tent, sleeping bag or cooking stuff (stove and pot), but I did pack an emergency bivvy, which was the size of a hammock when packed. Since we stayed in hotels and motels, I did bring some off bike clothes, like long pants, T shirt and a puffy jacket.

In comparison, the Thule Pack n' Pedal rack with frames and two Ortlieb panniers weigh more than three times as much at 3,315 grams while providing only 7.5 L more space. Cost would be comparable at ~ $260, but I already have the panniers so subtract $160. The rack is rated for high loads (55lbs) and both the rack and panniers are completely waterproof and non-wettable (I know Revelate bags are waterproof, too but the fabric must get wet on the outside in a rain). The big disadvantage is that all the weight is on the rear wheel using this setup. Adding a frame bag or a handlebar harness would distribute the weight better, but add even more weight.

Verdict: bags for minimalist touring on trails around Lake Tahoe, rack and panniers for long road trips through the Pacific Northwest. Two water bottles and a credit card for bike touring in Europe.

 I almost forgot: the ultimate touring setup is, of course, the GDR winning, spacious, lightweight and aerodynamic "fin" and "fairing" designed, manufactured and trail and road tested by John Nobile.

On Wheel Size, Again

About a year ago, I posted results of an amateur experiment that nevertheless showed that, as expected, the overall wheel size and its contact with ground depends largely on what size tire you mount to a rim.
Today's ride at Tolt McDonald tree farm made me think about wheels, or horses for courses, so to speak.

As you see from the map above, there are lots and lots of tight trails at Tolt McDonald. I rode here as my first mountain bike ride in Washington in the winter when trails were muddy and roots and rocks slick.Those conditions were just a hair above my comfort level. Today it was bone dry and I could hit the turns at speed. Each hairpin turn had a tree at its apex (and everywhere around) and the roots of that "apex" tree of course cross the trail. The trick is to lean the bike into the turn and use the roots as a natural bank. If you slow down and hit the root in the middle, your front wheel will likely slip - there is nothing worse than loosing your front wheel in a turn. If you take the turn too wide, you hit the tree.

Today, I was having too much fun on these trails and I practiced a perfect line through each turn while staying on top of tall gear. Yet quite a few times, I had to wrestle the bike (Ibis Mojo 26-er size XL) to "fit" into the tight space. If I rode a 29-er here, I would be hopeless. Yes, it would roll better and I could perhaps lean the bike more due to the larger tire contact and traction, but a wheelbase is a wheelbase and some law of physics says bikes don't shrink much at 8mph.

No other bike color would do here

Don't get me wrong, I love riding my (and other) 29ers. In April, the RM 970 was fantastic on wide open Utah trails and excelled on rocks of Porcupine rim. Last week during the cyclocross race, I could pass much faster guys by taking the inside of grassy turns on my 29er. I guess not because my wheels with big 2.2 tires would be more nimble (actually, a road 700cc rim with a 23c tire is basically a 26-er), but because the tire side knobs had lots of grip. I can also convert my 29er to a commuter or touring bike by using 35c slick tire (more on touring setups in a next blog post).
So again, do I have a need for a 27.5" wheeled bike? I personally think not, even if I had just one bike, 27.5" would be a compromise. For Washington and BC singletrack, I take 26. For everything else, there is a 29er (and a Master Card, of course).

Oh MFG! Cross!

After a week of monsoon rains and heavy thunderstorms, the weather gods finally smiled at us on Saturday. As is usually the case, the woods east of Seattle were soaked with moisture and low clouds hang over the Issaquah Alps in the morning. This weather makes the trails slick for biking and the air saturated with humidity makes me drip sweat like a leaky faucet.
I went for a trail run on the Tiger Mountain Trail, first climbing 2000 feet over 3 miles, then some ups and downs for another three miles or so and then steep downhill. When I came upon intersection of trails on my final leg where I could have chosen either 1.1 miles or 2.6 miles to where I parked, I chose the longer route. My "bad" knee did not thank me for this choice on the last few hundreds of meters of the Pipeline trail.
During this run, I got three phone calls: the first one from my wife whose car broke down in California; the second one from an Oregon area code, was from a Czech family who have just arrived in Seattle with three boys and a dog. They went hiking around the lake and tried to get in touch. I happened to just finished my run in the same area, so after weeks of emails, we met for the first time face to face.

Slideshow using bad phone pictures of the most beautiful trails I have ever been on is here.

The third call came when I drove home. My boss and a friend invited me to a season MFG cyclocross opening race on Sunday. How do you refuse that? I got up early and rode at easy pace about 18 miles to the venue. I expected a low key, grass roots event, but the park was packed with people in colorful kits (they looked suspiciously like roadies to me) and hundreds of high end cross bikes were all over.

I wanted to register for a Cat 4 Masters race, but that race was just starting, so I signed up for beginners. I really did not feel like trying Cat 3. I felt somewhat bad about it since in XC mountain biking, you do a beginners race just once if you never raced before. At the start line, I was surrounded by fit looking people on world championship worthy carbon machines (Ridley, Redline...). The first lap speed was insane. My 29-er with 2.25 Specialized Captain tires did awesome well on off camber grassy switchbacks, where I could take tight inside lines and actually passed a few people that way. On paved straightaways, everybody accelerated and just zoomed past me. Until the next technical section. There was also a mud pit, I guess as mandatory as barriers, where I had no problem ploughing through the deep mud, but my wheels wrapped in what felt like 15 pounds of thick mud made the next section especially grueling.

Forty minutes of intense workout, I gave it all I had but most of the other "beginners" pulled ahead of me. I was not redlined for 40 minutes, heck, I can go full out for about 3-4 minutes max. The key was to maintain the highest effort I could for the whole race. My legs felt definitely mushy after the trail run a day before, but I was able to scramble some mental energy for the last lap sprint to the finish.

By the time my friends finished their crowded Cat 3 race, it was sunny and hot. Iced Americano and a Yeah! cookie (both delicious) helped me to get ready for those slooooow 18 miles back home. GPS track here. The actual cyclocross laps are the head on the long snake of the ride track.

Giants at Duthie

This past weekend here in Seattle, bracketed by two hectic long weekends in the Bay Area, was special because we hiked to Snow Lake at Snoqualmie, the place where I took Marketa snowshoeing shortly after she moved here in December. In summer months, the trail that starts right off the ski area parking lot is obvious (we never found it during the winter) and it is described as the most heavily used trail around Seattle. It proved to be true - a steady stream of hikers, children, dogs went up and down the trail, most people reaching the lake overlook, but many also hiking down to the lake shores. Despite the trail being quite rocky and challenging at places, the frequent stopping or dodging tourists made for much less fun than the winter solitude among trees and peaks. But the lake itself was beautiful and we were glad we saw it in its summer glory.

I also managed to get out for a half day mountain bike ride at Grand Ridge and Duthie. This is a perfect destination when you cannot get out of town for a whole long summer day. Thirty minutes drive and you are on a sweet trail, not overly technical but with decent amount of climbing and lots of fun turns. The best part is reaching the Duthie skills park and riding the XC perimeter trails. It turned out that Giant had a demo day there and I managed at least to take a quick look at Giant's new bikes.

They had XTC carbon hardtails, carbon FS Anthems and aluminum Trance bikes on display. As everybody knows by now, Giant has jumped on the "new" wheel size (27.5) and most of the bikes were sporting the "mid size" wheels. What caught my attention, besides the beautifully executed carbon frames with quite attractive (even if slightly euro-trashy) color combination of black, white and blue, were the SRAM X01 1x11 drivetrains.

The simplicity of a single chain ring, the clean bottom bracket area with no front derraileur and the sophisticated-looking rear mech were quite a sight. Of course, the real engineering marvel is the 10-42 cassette, the largest sprocket looks huge when you look at the rear wheel from a side, but you get used to it in a minute.

The carbon X01 cranks were as pretty as their more expensive XX1 siblings, and the cable and brake hose routing, partly internal, partly following the contours of the Maestro link and rear swing arm look clean and professional.
All bikes were equipped with Rock Shocks suspension with remote lock-outs and Schwalbe Racing Ralph tires. Super wide handlebars are a norm today, but I lacked dropper seat posts and forgot to look for cable routing under the top tube. Impressive bikes, in comparison, my 26-er Mojo looked like a relic from a deep past, no matter how ahead Ibis was in bike design in 2006 when I bought the bike.
I am quite sure that 27.5" wheels will replace the 26 size, it just makes sense in all aspects. I am not that sure about the 1x11 gears, the tech geek in me would love to have it, at the same time I know that 32/42 may be too tall for me on some climbs and I would probably miss the easy and quick  shift from a large to a small chainring when needed. One could argue that you should always be in or close to the right gear, but trails will continue to surprise us and shifting across four or five cogs would certainly stall me when I would need it least - like a steep drop down to a creek then an abrupt steep climb up the other side. The future will tell but I think it will be great to have all these choices available.

August 21

August 21st will always be a day to remember by all Czechs. Yesterday was the 45th anniversary of Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 which had ended the Prague Spring democratization movement and initiated many years of communist "normalization".
I remember the Soviet tanks and troops quite vividly (I was 6 years old) but it took me another twenty plus years to understand that summer.

Source: Radio Free Europe

There are more interesting photos from 1968 here.

What I of course cannot remember is the year when ironically fathers of these Russian soldiers came to our country in 1945 to liberate it from the Nazi rule. Luckily, I have a family chronicle, written by my grandfather and grandmother and digitized by my uncle, so I can share a couple of pictures:

Red Army soldiers in Brno Reckovice, 1945

My mom and uncle playing on a German armored vehicle wreck, 1947

Let's hope there will be more bikes and fewer tanks in this world in the future.