Vuelta al Cotopaxi, Primera Parte; Ecuador.
June 1, 2012
I’m just back from the Vuelta al Cotopaxi. Ok, not the official mountain biking race around Ecuador’s most famous volcano, but a similar route of our own doing. More photos from this bikepacking adventure soon…
Onward plans are now almost fully formed, though typically subject to change… I’ll be heading south from here, looping round to Lago Quilatoa, before picking up some dirt roads to Baños. From there, I’ll backtrack to Amabato, and follow a trail that wends its way between the twin volcanoes of Chimborazo and Carihuairazo, down to Riobamba. Then, I have a choice. Cut down to Macas in the Amazon basin lowlands, or stay up high towards Cuenca and pick my way down a dirt road further to the south. Once in the Amazonas, it’s a paved road to Loja, then more dirt into the mountains to Zumba, on the Peruvian border…
Summer seems to be coming to Ecuador, so I’m hopeful for some dry days!
After a high traverse from Pintag, we approached mighty Cotopaxi – one of highest active volcanoes in the world – on this wisp of a jeep track.
And the following morning, under clear skies.
The remote jeep track that leads to the lone hacienda at el Tambo, 3700m, on the eastern side of Cotopaxi – by now lost behind a thick halo of cloud.
Ecuadorian farmers on their way up into the páramo, the treeless, barren, high altitude plains typical of Ecuador.
This ‘road’ barrelled us down from our highest pass, 4200m, hopschotching crevasses and watersnakes as we went.
Picking our way across the various mini-canyons in El Morro.
My Ecuadorian riding companion, Michael, shared a love of exploring each and every singletrack opportunity that came our way…
Back, but going.
May 15, 2012
I’m back from a few nights camping with James, whose company I greatly enjoyed riding through Utah’s Canyonlands in 2010. This time, we biked from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon, following the pavement-free Arizona Trail. If you’re lucky enough to be visiting this part of the world, I can’t think of a better way of arriving at the Grand Canyon – 100 miles of sublime trails and idyllic camping spots, preluding one of the most surreal, larger-than-life views I’ve ever experienced. I’ll get a trip report up at some point, just as soon as I get through a backlog of writing.
Flagstaff has made a great base this last week. Come 7pm, I’ve headed out of town to freecamp on a hilltop in the national forest, enjoying a city overlook under stars, and awakening to a soul-warming sunrise each morning. It’s helped reset my body clock. My daily ritual has been simple: loading up my gear by 6am, rolling down the hill to Macy’s cafe to write (and enjoy budget-friendly, delicious Day Old pastries). My days here have offered the chance to see friends, ride wonderful trails and soak up some of Flagstaff’s hip, North Arizonan lifestyle. I’ve also been fortuitous enough to meet up with Megan, passing through town on exactly the same weekend. The third member of our Canyonlands posse (another of the South West’s premier 100 mile dirt road loops), we hadn’t seen each other since Nicaragua, when she came out to ride with her incredible little baby Neva.
Last time I was in Flagstaff, I based myself out of Josh’s burgeoning Bike Shop Hub, so it was good to visit and see how the business has developed. Incidentally, Josh has offered to affiliate this blog to his shop. This means that if you order online anything via this link, I’ll get a small cut. In the interests of transparency, I’ll talk more about this business deal at some point soon; ultimately though, it’s a way of supporting this blog, without influencing actual content. The good part is that buying any gear through these links won’t cost you a penny more than it would normally. As Josh stocks the likes of Tubus racks and Ortlieb panniers (including all the tricky-to-find extras), it’s hard to go wrong (-:
Lastly, my big travel news is that I’m finally booked to return to Ecuador! It’s been a long time coming – I left South America almost a year ago after riding down from Alaska, to return to the UK for some unexpected lung surgery. I’ll be catching the train this evening and flying out of LA on the 17th, destination Quito. So, if anyone wants to meet up in LA on the 16th, I’m around and about. Better still, if you know a place I can crash for the night, please let me know – otherwise I’ll be kipping in the airport before my morning flight back South.
Weaving between ponderosas synonimous with the higher elevations of the South West. For this part of the AZT, James tried t pulling the Tout Terrain Mule, which worked perfect with his lightweight Gunnar mountain bike.
Not a car in sight. Just 1oo miles of trails, jeep track, big skies…
And then this…
In time for sunset…
James communes with four legged locals.
Perfect camping out in high meadows. James carried his Tarptent Double Rainbow, while I had a chance to use my new solo Moment, both of which are ultralight and great value.
Note to self…
Back in Flag, I hung out amidst the inner workings of Bike Shop Hub. As ever, thanks to Josh, Robin, Robert and Ted for welcoming me in. Whenever I’ve passed through Northern Arizona, Josh has always offered me a workshop to service my bike and an address to receive mail.
Pack ‘em high. Panniers, racks and trailers galore…
The place to come for all your Ortlieb bits and bobs… Bike Trailer Shop even stocks Revelate gear too.
Have you ever seen a bubble wrap roll as gargantuan as this? I’d have had a field day as a kid.
As well as selling a dizzying range of trailers, Bike Shop Hub build their own. This is their fully customisable cargo hauler, the provisionally called The Really Big Bongo, soon to be available in two sizes. It’s rated to pull some 200lbs (90kg), and is aimed at tradesmen who want to go car-free, amongst others.
It’s expertly crafted in Flagstaff by Stu Henderson, who also forms a third of Sendero Cycles. The arch design stops water pooling in the waterproof cover.
Quick releases allow the angle of the arm to be easily adjusted, so the trailer can be pulled by hand, or to form a stand.
I also had the chance too to scrub my dust-ingrained gear Rocket bag. A tip for long distance bikepackers – keep your framebag’s zips clean to ensure years of rugged use. I popped it on the scales too: 1.1lbs, or 500g. It’s more than most framebags as it has secret compartments, extra padding and bonus sleeves. But it’s certainly useful enough to be worth its weight in gold.
James has a Long Haul Trucker, so I borrowed his rack and panniers to experiment with trailer-less riding on my Ogre. Using a blend of Porcelain Rocket bags and small Ortlieb front roller panniers, the above setup includes everything I’d need for indefinite travel…
Beady-eyed gearheads might have noticed that I have a Porcelain Rocket Anything Bag (100g, or 4oz) strapped directly to a Profile Kage. As much as I love the concept of Salsa’s all-embracing Anything Cages, I’m not finding them burly enough for my uses – perhaps because I have a habit of throwing down the bike for a quick photo. My take? Great idea, but best treated with care. Bring on some chromo versions, Salsa!
I’ve opted to take the Surly Ogre away with me, despite its awkwardly sourced 29er wheels and tyres. Which means taking care of them. Seen here is non other than mountain biking legend Joe Murray, of Kona and Voodoo fame, showing me how best to keep my Deore hubs running smoothly.
Jumping back to cages for a moment… Joe sold me a limited edition, titanium, triple eyeletted King Kage I’d been coveting – the perfect fit for a 1.2l Kleen Kanteen. Be great to get another run of these going…
We also went out for a ride, climbing up to the Overlook and looping round the challenging terrain of Rocky Ridge.
Even though Joe retired from racing in 1990, he still comprehensively crushed me on the climbs. And the descents… In my defence, I should add that Joe was a NORBA national champion with an as yet unmatched streak of 12 straight victories…
His weapon of choice: a prototype, rock-munching Voodoo Zopob 29er.
Talking of munching… Aside from sustaining myself with Day Old pastries, I’ve enjoyed wholesome home cooking too. James is the master of conjuring up delicious food on the tightest of budgets… like these sliced corn tortillas snacks. The trick? Fry with a touch of olive oil, salt and pepper, until crispy.
Or this, a simple mix beg special.
James’ Mix Veg Special:
Chop up celery, onion, carrots, zucchini, garlic and some fire roasted red pepper (to fire roast, simply place directly on burner, for a sweet, charred, South Western flavour).
Saute in a touch of olive oil.
Add in kale towards the end.
Squeeze in the secret ingredient, lime juice, which adds acidity and brings out the vivid flavours of each vegetable – without the need to add fat or salt.
Enjoy!
He rustled up some polenta too – a stone ground corn – prepared with smoked gouda, pepper, salt and olive oil. incidentally, corn, beans and squash form the ‘Three Sisters’, combining to make a complete, energy-rich protein. Great cycling food.
The full effect. Perhaps unsurprisingly, James has worked as a chef in France…
To round it off, homemade coconut macaroons, on a bed of farmer’s market strawberries, under a topping of homemade whipped cream (simple: place heavy cream in jar and shake!).
Little Neva joined us too. As expected, the dessert went down particularly well…
More Coco-di-loco…
May 9, 2012
As I mentioned in my previous post, the Coconino Loop is a bikepacking journey around the Coconino National Forest, Northern Arizona. Concocted by Scott Morris, of Topofusion fame, and his buddy Chad Brown - both bikepacking fiends – it knits together 250 miles of trails and jeep tracks, with only a handful of paved miles to its name. It’s an incredibly diverse loop, flitting from corridors of ponderosas pines to the open, red rock desert of Sedona, via Cottonwood, Mingus Mountain, the Verde River and Williams.
I say ‘bikepacking’ because the route claims to be almost 50% singletrack, much of which is relatively technical. Between the slabby trails of Sedona, the medley of rough jeep tracks through the ponderosas, and the vertical challenges of Mingus Mountain, it’s certainly tough enough to warrant packing as light as you can – so forget panniers or a trailer on this one.
The loop is raced in 4 stages, or even by madmen who tackle it in one fell swoop - for the grand prize of a box of donuts no less. Yes, that means riding 250 miles of technical terrain straight through the night…
As mortals, we rode it in 4 and a half days, largely due to my obsession for taking photos and a couple of late starts. I’d add to that our first day out of Flag was slowed down considerably by tacky, clay-like mud on the Anderson Plateau, having rained the night before. A tenacious compound, it ‘slo-moed’ us down to a literal standstill, jabbing hopelessly with twigs to clear clogged drivetrains. So, keep an eye on the weather if you’re planning the ride. Spring and Fall are best, to avoid the sweltering heat of Sedona.
We ran fully rigid setups, but agreed front suspension would have made for less exhausting days – we were both pretty spent by the time we were done. Although you can trim this ride down to three nights, four felt good to us. We certainly didn’t feel like we were slacking…
For stat-heads:
Distance: 253 miles
Average speed: 7.4 mph
Elevation gain: 20 671ft (the official taly is 28 000ft. We diverted round the infamous Mingus Mountain hike ‘n bike and stayed on forest roads, which might account for 2000ft of the shortfall, but I’m not sure where the rest of the discrepancy lies)
Time: 34 hours moving time
GPS:
Although the parts of the route that follow the Arizona Trail are well signposted, you definitely need a GPS for this ride. All the relevant info can be downloaded from the bikepacking.net. I used my lovely new Garmin Etrex 20 (thank you Nancy!) and though I have yet to unearth all its secrets, I’m now a GPS convert. Battery life was great – at least 40 hours with lithiums AAs, leaving it on and not fiddling with menus during the day.
Coco Lite
I’m all for shouldering the bike if it gets me to places I’d otherwise not be able to reach – or to avoid pavement. But if there’s a good dirt road alternative, I’m happy to take that too. To avoid the route’s most infamous hike ‘n bike, I’d recommend taking the Mingus Mountain Bypass (there’s a separate gpx file) which skirts round the top of the mountain, keeping to mellow, scenic forest roads for the most part. It meets the main route some 10 miles later. We noticed that it’s also possible to turn off onto a graded dirt road at a couple of points on the way up to the Bill Williams Overlook, saving yourself some potential off-the-bike toils. If the trail on the other side is littered with blowdown, you can follow the dirt road down into Williams too.
Rigs:
I rode my Surly Ogre with my usual Porcelain Rocket kit. I was travelling light, but not as light as most. The Ogre carries a few extra pounds round its waist (easily slimmed back with a lighter wheelset) and I had some 6.5 lbs (3kg) of camera kit to lug round too – my DLSR and a few lenses, plus spare battery – so I certainly wasn’t riding as light as I could have been.
Gary took his AM Peirce, fitted with a 1×9 drivetrain and Stan’s ZTR tubeless rims, weighing in at around 25lbs. His full rig (minus food and water) tipped the scales 34lbs 12oz (15.7kg), plus 5lbs 10 oz (2.56kg) in his pack. Gary knows how to pack! He had tubeless tyres and I ran sealant in my inner tubes.
We both packed lightweight tarps (only used one night), and made sure we had enough layers for cooler conditions. I carried my Clikstand cookset, while Gary relied on cold food.
Here’s just an overview of the ride – I’m saving some photos for a story I hope to write up… You can check out Gary’s pics here.
The two bikepacking steeds. My Surly Ogre, and Gary’s AM Peirce.
Easing into the ride on the Arizona Trail at our start point of Flagstaff.
Unfortunately, rain the night before had transformed what should have been 10 miles of blissful singletrack in a sticky, treacly brew. Definitely not derailleur friendly: where’s that Rohloff when you need it…
Much of the AZT picks its way through corridors of ponderosas and alleyways of rock gardens…
Linking one grassy plateau to the next…
We met this Japanese AZT through-hiker on the route. Apart from in Sedona, we didn’t see anyone else on the trails.
Dropping down from the Mogollon Rim at Schnebly Hill Overlook. Built in 1902, the Old Munds Wagon trail was used by homesteaders in the Verde Valley to sell produce and livestock in Flagstaff.
Spring is in the air – a wonderful time to be in the desert.
Our descent into Sedona marked a change in flora – we were entering the land of agave and cacti.
Sedona is said to be a centre of vortexes to heightened spiritual and metaphysical energy…
It’s also a mountain biking mecca. The Coconino Loop weaves one trail together with the next – like Broken Arrow, a Sedona Classic.
Cathedral Rock. Note Pink Jeep in the background. At the risk of sounding like a zealot, these jeeps disgorge tourists too lazy to hike the few miles needed to get here. Not ideal for desert peace and tranquility…
Spot Gary if you can…
There he goes…
Catching these miniature barrel cacti as they began to flower was a highlight of the desert experience for me.
The waters of Buddha Beach were so tempting we crossed them without even needing to, straying briefly off route.
Leaving Sedona for solitude once more.
The Lime Kiln Trail was originally constructed in the 1880s to burn lime; now it’s just the wisp of a sandy path across the desert.
More splashes of colour…
And the desert rat’s favourite, the spindly, spikey occatillo cacti.
No need for the tarp… A perfect camping spot on a plateau above Cottonwood.
Cottonwood lured us in its grocery store, where set up camp for an hour of feeding and gear repairs. Climbing back out from Cottonwood towards Mingus Mountain was tough in the heat; sweat flowed off my helmet peak like a waterfall. That’s San Francisco Peak in the distance, where we began.
Tired legs and loose rocks = some pushing.
The classic hide of an alligator juniper, as we climbed up in altitude once more.
The route unearths all kinds of rarely used jeep tracks. At one point, we followed a powerline for a few miles across the valley.
Coyote Springs offered a welcome chance to stop for lunch and refill water bottles. Despite the life forms, we didn’t bother to purify it, and lived to tell the tale.
Stopping to soak it all it up, before the gravel road descent back down to the Verde River, where we camped the night.
Which, of course, was met by a drawn out climb back out of the valley. Foolishly, we’d expected an easy trail to round off the morning, before lunch in Williams…
But we ended up climbing back up to 9000ft, culminating with an infamous hike ‘n bike. Blowdown made our much anticipated descent from the Bill Williams lookout more of an assault course than a ride.
Eventually, the trail opened up once more for some sweet riding.
Williams – on the National Register of Historic Places – boasts some classic signage that harks back to the historic Route 66. I’m a sucker for ’50s Americana.
It was also home to the most excellent Rolando’s Mexican Restaurant. This double burrito special cost $9, and fed me for both lunch and dinner. You need to stop at this place if you’re doing this ride.
A good excuse for a break: waiting for the cargo train to chug by.
Before long, we were back amongst the avenues of ponderosas once more.
Then, we turned off onto trail again, following singletrack around Sycamore Canyon, dodging volcanic babyheads as we went. Given our tired legs, some sections were more than a little awkward to ride…
Don’t look down…
Great views and campspots abound… The latter part of the trail smooths out, reward for previous toils!
Maybe one day there will be a picture of a bikepacker…
Eventually we closed in on Snowbowl, back up at 9000ft, at the foot of the lofty San Francisco Peak.
From here, 14 miles of AZT awaited, a ribbon of singletrack perfectly crafted into the hillside. We weaved between rock and tree with effortless grace.
So good!
Back in Flagstaff, where a shower at the $40 dollar Canyon Inn Motel (eventually) shifted ingrained dust and mud… But not memories (-:
Cheers Gary! End of ride celebration at the Dairy Queen.
Coco-di-loco: Back in Flag, AZ
May 2, 2012
Just a quick post to announce that I’m back on the road, making my way west once more…
I’ve stopped in Flagstaff, home to some of my favourite trails in the States, to meet up with ‘Minimalist Master‘ Gary Blakley and tackle a ride that’s long been on my hit list…
The Coconino Loop is a 250 mile bikepacking journey linking Flagstaff with Sedona, Cottonwood and Williams, via the mighty wall of Mingus Mountain. With over 20 000 feet of climbing, the terrain is unrelenting as it is varied: snowy mountains, shaded pondera forest, baking desert, dusty red rock… the lot. Almost half of the ride follows singletrack trails; the rest traces roughly hewn jeep tracks and gravel county roads. Of course, no bikepacking adventure worth its salt is complete without a few gruelling hike ‘n bikes thrown in too. Curses and all.
I’m resting my sore butt and sifting through pics for a full report soon. Here’s a few for starters…
Headin’ west on the South West Chief.
Travel Light. Have more fun…
The Arizona Trail. Unending miles of Great Stuff.
Just tarps or sleeping out under the stars on this trip.
Good to be shiver-free camping again…
Overlooking red rock Sedona at Schnebly Hill. Perfect for feet dangling.
Broken Arrow trail. Keeps you on your toes.
The desert blooms.
You say. We follow.
San Francisco Peak. Arizona…
Sweet Flagstaffian singletrack…
More pics and words here…
Bikepacking: the joys of travelling lean and light.
April 3, 2012
The more I travel, the less I enjoy being confined to the busy claustrophobia of paved roads. And the more I explore dirt trails, the more I find myself drawn to the notion of travelling lean and light…
The Surly Ogre in 'bikepacking' mode, as this style of minimal setup has become known. It's loaded with everything I need for a few days camping in the mountains, and everything I'd need for travelling in South America - bar a computer. Handling feels great on both rough trails and singletrack: the weight is snug to the frame, and nicely balanced across the whole bike. There are no panniers or trailer to snag or clatter around.
Travelling light.
When shorter timescales are involved – anything up to a few weeks – there’s no debate that bikepacking is my preferred modus operandi. It’s refreshing to carry so little.
For longer periods on the road – I’m talking months – it’s not quite so clear cut. I try to eat at least a semblance of fresh, healthy food, rather than relying solely on packet noodles. That takes up space. In my case I’m also hamstringed by my reliance on a laptop. It won’t quite fit in my framebag and I’ve never enjoyed carrying a backpack for long days on end – that’s when a set of rear panniers or a trailer can work best for me.
But… If you’re happy with more compact computing – like a tablet, a smart phone or (shock, horror) nothing at all – long distance bikepacking should be well within the realms of reason. With a few considered gear choices, travelling light should be do-able, without the associated gram-shaving obsession. Especially if you’re biking in a part of the world where food is readily available, or it’s warm enough to do without winter clothes, or even stove.
Pros and cons of ‘bikepacking ‘
+ The main upside to travelling light (and this is a big one) is the freedom to roam… almost anywhere! Explore the backcountry you might otherwise have grudgingly passed by. Take the most interesting road, whatever the terrain. Reduced capacity limits you to carrying only the very essentials – a good discipline! (less to think about = less to worry about) Covering bigger distances is considerably more pleasurable. There’s a knock on effect on your bike too. It handles better off road. Plus, less weight means wear and tear, so you can run a lighter, livelier wheelset – and even frame.
- Limited cargo space requires tetris-like packing precision, which doesn’t suit everyone. This reduced space also encroaches on how many days (and thus miles) you can ride between resupplies. Unless you can confidently to pull off big distances, it can put pressure on getting to places: planning becomes all-important. It’s easier to bikepack in a more controlled environment, where you have access to reliable information about where you’re riding. And, for overseas travel especially, a full framebag kit isn’t as straight forward as unclipping a pair of panniers and storing them in your guesthouse.
Joe Cruz, who spent 6 months travelling this way in South America – without even the need for a backpack – made a really well balanced argument for bikepacking here.
Here’s some weight comparisons:
- Seatpack – 310g
- Handlebar ‘sausage’ and bag – 340g
- El Gilberto Frambag (a burly, heavy duty model) for a large frame – 480g
- Total: 1130g
- OrtliebBackroller Plus (the lightest models): 1700g
- Ortlieb Ultimate 5 Plus bar bag (the lightest, M in size): 680g
- Tubus Cargo rack (light but strong): 650g
- Total: 3030g
The capacity of a rear panniers and bar bag setup is 47L. A bikepacking setup is roughly 25L, plus whatever a framebag is (which really depends on frame size). Let’s call it 7 litres – making 32L (without a backpack).
My rig
The setup in the pictures below includes 2-3 days of food. Weather-wise, I’m prepared for most mountain conditions, bar the coldest of temperatures. Water carrying capacity is 3.5l. The folding packpack and bladder can expand this by a few litres on the days I really need it. There’s even a spare tyre too, and my Panasonic GH2 camera and lenses.
From my experience, a light tent (think Tarptent, Big Agnes or similar), a minimal cookset (denatured alcohol) and a more compact camera system make all the difference to being able to travel this way. At just a few ounces, a vapour barrier (unfortunately no longer stocked here) is a good way of boosting your sleeping bag too, without extra bulk. This is what Joe carried in South America – he later even jettisoned the backpack – and here’s what Gary was packing on our New Mexico ride.
On a budget
Currently, the two main framebag players are Revelate Designs, up in Alaska, and Porcelain Rocket, out of British Colombia. You don’t need to run these kind of semi-custom bags to travel light, but they do help. The best initial investment is probably an expandable seat pack, though traditional Carradice saddlebags can work well too. More homegrown methods include simply cinching waterproof role bags to your handlebars – tape anything that rub against the brake levers or frame with the likes of gorilla tape. Or, fit lightweight front/rear racks, and strap role top bags to them. Hoseclamps are great inventions too for attaching extra water bottle or Anything cages. The more creative can even try and make their own framebag – ideas can be found here.
Cockpit view: front pouch and handlebar 'sausage'. This space holds my sleeping bag, puff jacket, clothes and potset.
The front pouch carries a mirrorless camera and a couple of lenses. An REI Flash 18 packpack is rolled away for longer distances between resupplies.
The seat pack carries my tent, Thermarest, clothes and flip flops, with expansion room for extra food. The bulk of the heavy food is carried in the framepack, along with tools and spare tubes. The heavy stuff is low and centred.
The top tube pack fits a headtorch, multitool, knife, spork and snacks. Things you want to get to easily.
One side of the fork has a Salsa Anything Cage (with matching Porcelain Rocket bag), the perfect spot for layers I like to keep handy - waterproofs and warm gloves. If I was carrying a pack, I'd probably store these things there - freeing up some space for a Thermarest.
The other leg has a 1.2L Klean Kanteen, held securely in place with a Profile Kage.
I like to carry plenty of water. This 1.5 lire bottle lives under the Ogre's belly. A Profile Kage would work well here too, with a Klean Kanteen or 1L MSR fuel bottle.
An 800ml, easy-to-reach bottle resides on the stem, thanks to a King Cage Top Cap Mount.
The rougher the trails you ride, the lighter it makes sense to travel. The lighter you travel, the more sense it makes to bikepack...
My setup for a 3 week tour of Cuba.
From the archive... 'Bikepacking' in Northern India, 2006: a multi day, singletrack ride, following a hiking path from Leh to the Morei Plains. 4000m-5000m mountain biking!
Fahrstil magazine – Deutsch framebag feature
March 25, 2012
A while ago I was contact by a German magazine, Fahrstil. I hadn’t heard about it before, but with its emphasis on bike culture, it sounded like a magazine I’d like to read.
Fast forward a few months and there was a thud onto the doormat – well, there would have been if post wasn’t left in the mailbox, as is the way in the States. At 160 pages, Fahrstill is a veritable tome.
The print quality is great, I love the layout, and I was delighted to see the photos on building a framebag had been given a full 12 pages, with ample space for them to breathe – including an embarrassingly large double page spread of me…
Although I can’t decipher much of the text, the rest of the magazine looks really interesting – a feature on Fatbikes, an article comparing car and bicycle brand name graphics, and a retro-lycra fashion spread (page 132 is a favourite) to mention just a few.
Incidentally, the photos were shot on a Panasonic GH2, in horribly low lighting conditions. Having seen them in print, it’s reaffirmed how impressive Micro Four Thirds cameras can be, especially given their incredibly compact size.
You can see more of Scott’s skilled work on his Porcelain Rocket Fickr page, and the original blog post here.
If you want to buy a copy of Fahrstil, you can do so here.
Nancy und Fahrstil das Radaculturmagazin.
A sweaty (and dreadlocked) me on the road in Panama.
Scott, of Porcelain Rocket, tracing out a pattern in his mancave.
Working his magic on the sewing machine.
Time out for Kaboom.
Cupping the finished framebag like a newborn baby...
On the road and dusty - like all bike gear should be.
Me ‘n Ogre
February 28, 2012
With my Troll in storage for now, I’m taking its big brother, Ogre, to California – a bike that’s turned out to be one of the most versatile rides I’ve enjoyed for some time. I’ll be penning some more thoughts on it soon, and my take on the pros and cons of the two Surlys.
In the meantime, this is how I’ll be rolling – along with help from public buses and trains. This lean setup includes everything I need for 4 season travel, a cookset, all my electronic gismos, a few lenses, and food storage space for a few days. I won’t extol the virtues of pannier-less touring and ponder its downsides right now. But if you think travelling like this is unrealistic for more than a few weeks, check out Joe Cruz’s inspiring blog, charting his incredible, ultralight, fat-tyred adventures around South America.
The Ogre's loaded up and ready to roll. Adios Santa Fe.
A few setup notes:
Despite its bulk and weight, I’m using my Nikon DSLR on this trip, thanks it its improved low light capabilities over the Micro 4/3rds system. This will suit shooting without flash at the North American Handmade Bike Show. Stowage comes courtesy of an Ortlieb Ultimate 5 bar bag. Although it pushes extra weight further forward on the handlebars – not ideal – its roomy, completely waterproof, and makes the camera quick and easy to access. A necessary compromise.
Without my panniers, which are currently residing in Ecuador, there’s no room for my Macbook Air on the bike. I dislike carrying weight on my back when touring, particularly on road stretches, but there’s no other way round this for now. At a touch over 1kg, at least the Macbook is extremely light for the punch that it packs.
Along with the bottle cage I mount on the stem, this setup allows for over two litres of precious liquids on the bike – enough for overnighting. If I need more, I can load up the water bladder in my backpack. I’d aim to use that up first, to lessen the weight on my back.
Joe added water bottle mounts on the seatstays of his Pugsley for extra H20 capacity. Although this setup is a little delicate – they catch on the ground when lying the bike down – it’s an option too. You can read his thoughts on the pros and cons of long distance bikepacking here.
The Ogre’s eyeletted fork allows two Salsa Anything Cages to be quickly fitted to its blades. Each one can hold around 4 litres of light but bulky kit. I pack my tarp in one side, and Thermarest/waterproofs in the other. Look out for Porcelain Rocket’s new Anything Cage Bags – these would be a great addition to the cages.
Despite the extra weight and bulk, I’m carrying a spare tyre synched to the handlebar ‘sausage’. Even though I’m unlikely to need a spare tyre right now, sourcing 29er rubber is the main issue when travelling beyond North America and Europe with this less common wheel size. I’m a fan of piece of mind, so I’m going to see how it works for future travels.
And lastly, some more inspiration…
Master Chef: Curried Red Lentils and Rice
February 27, 2012
One-pot-wonder.
Even in a fully stocked kitchen, I can’t claim to be the greatest chef in the world… But I do love good food and try to eat healthily on tour – and on the cheap. With this in mind, I thought I’d share one of Nancy’s one-pot-recipes that has helped sustain me over these last few months.
Although trickier to track down than their green brethren, red lentils are perfect camping fodder. They’re nutritious, rich in protein and cook quickly – soak them in water while you’re pitching the tent and they’ll be ready even faster. Red lentils go well with basmati rice, a high carb, slow burning whole grain.
With this in mind, here’s a simple, tasty Curried Red Lentils and Rice Combo…
Start by putting a pot of water on to boil.
Chop up some fresh ginger.
Chop up some fresh garlic.
Chop up an onion.
If you like extra spice, chop up a little jalepeno pepper too.
Chop up some carrots/sweet potatoes/brocolli, small so they cook quickly.
Throw all this into the pot. Yep, at the same time. While you’re at it, add in the lentils and rice - white basmati cooks quicker. Easy, huh?
Mix in some pre-prepared tumeric, coriander and cumin (equal parts), or a curry powder you’ve bought.
Sprinkle in some salt.
Potter about for 20 mins, stirring occasioally. Have a stretch. Blow up your mattress. Fluff up your sleeping bag. My trangia has a nice simmer control, so won’t flay dinner to a blackened crisp if I get distracted.
Serve and enjoy… After a long day in the saddle, there’s nothing to beat camping food!
Haute Cuisine on the Great Divide.
Variations on a theme:
Make sure there’s extra liquid and mix in some cous cous at the end, and let it sit.
If you chance upon some coconut milk, you can use two thirds milk/one third water for a lovely, rich flavour. Or even throw in some coconut milk powder you can find in health food shops.
Similarly, I use red lentils to bulk up instant Thai Kitchen rice noodles – a lightweight, relatively healthy and flavoursome pre-prepared noodle soup, costing just a dollar each. While the water is boiling, I add the same combo – red lentils, onion and some sweet potato – mixing in the sachets too. When the vegetables are tender, add in the rice noodles for a couple of minutes.
I’d be glad to hear of other simple, foolproof camping recipes (-:
And finally, just add view...
Links:
I’m a big Trangia fan – it’s a simple and reliable cook system. Previously I travelled with the complete potset, but I’ve now moved over to the far lighter and more compact Clikstand, which uses the same burner. Or you can make your own, with all the tips you need over at Zen Stoves. The fuel – denatured alcohol – can be found in most hardware shops. HEET, the little yellow bottles of gas line antifreeze found in many gas stations, works well too.
The flat-pack Clikstand.
Update:
Handy links for sourcing denatured alcohol around the world:
Headed to the North American Handmade Bicycle Show, California.
February 24, 2012
Just a short post to say I’m headed to the North American Handmade Bicycle Show. This year it’s being held in Sacramento, California, from March 2-4. To those who aren’t familiar with this event, it’s the time when custom framebuilders emerge from their darkened, winter workshops all around the US, to showcase and flaunt their wares. And, it’s an opportunity for Joe Public to ogle some truly beautiful, creative pieces of functional art.
I’ll be covering the event for the UK’s Singletrack magazine, and posting on this blog too.
I plan to camp somewhere in Sacramento, unless anyone can offer me some floorspace (-; My hope is then to travel down to LA (and fly back to South America), in case anyone is up for a ride.
As for getting there, I’ll be carsharing west from Albuquerque, New Mexico, stopping off in Death Valley National Park for a few days of dirt touring en route. If anyone is headed to the show and can help out, please let me know!
Back on the move... (photo Gary Blakley)
Porcelain Rocket: the making of a framebag
January 7, 2012
Somewhat at odds with my original plans, I now find myself in Victoria, the capital city of British Colombia that’s situated, a little confusingly, on Vancouver Island – not to be mistaken with nearby Vancouver, which isn’t…
What, back in Canada?
Er, yep. For now.
There’s a reason for my about turn, and it’s that I’ve decided to prolong my stay in North America. But for this, I’ll need to renew my US visa. In my usual style, this was a last minute decision, so with only a few days left before it expired, a helping hand was required to cover the 900 mile, triple-state traverse to the Canadian border. Enter the virtual bulletin board of Craigslist, where 75 bucks in gas money earned me a rideshare all the way to Port Angeles, a lonely harbour set dramatically at the foot of the Olympic Mountains. From there, it was just a short hop across the Salish Sea, from Washington’s Olympic peninsula to British Colombia, on a ferry that neatly depositing me in downtown Victoria.
From past experience, it seems that unusual company is all but guaranteed when ridesharing: on this occasion, the 20 hour road trip was shared with a chainsmoking student of Tibetan Buddhism, a girl with green hair, a Deadhead and, of course, my dismembered bicycle squeezed into the trunk of the Audi wagon. The journey itself proved interminably long but largely uneventful, most likely because it involved four wheels and a motor, rather than two and a pair of legs.
Still, making such an odyssey north did have other benefits. For one, it introduced me to the Pacific North West – a land of ancient, towering redwoods, giant ferns, moss-draped rainforests and, being the middle of winter, permadrizzle. It’s also given me the chance connect again with Scott and Naomi, who have moved to Victoria since I last stayed with them in Banff – back when they replenished me with food in readiness for the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, over two years ago.
During this time, Scott has begun a new business: Porcelain Rocket, fabricators of custom bicycle framebags. Just to recap, stowing gear within the frame of a bicycle makes great use of space and centers weight, allowing for a lighter, rack and pannier-less setup and more technical riding prowess. With the advent of this style of kit available commercially, dirt road touring, or bikepacking, as it’s becoming known, has been flourishing.
In fact, Scott’s distinctive rocket patches have festooned my muddy gear over the last 18 months, as he’s been kind enough to send me various prototypes to use and abuse. Which, in turn, has introduced me to a new world of more remote and challenging mountain bike travels.
While I’ve been out riding, Scott’s been honing his sewing skills… And he’s got pretty good…
Welcome to Porcelain Rocket, aka the Cave. A trained ceramic artist, and something of a rocket when out on his bicycle, Scott's unusual but aptly-named business has quietly grown within the bowels of a ramshackle Art Deco home, which itself is in midst of DIY upheaval.
The first step to building a framebag is to draw out a pattern of the bicycle frame in question, marking on details such as water bottle mounts and cable bosses. Inevitably each pattern is different, depending on the bicycle manufacturer, the frame's size, and the material it's made from.
The pattern is then cut out and laid over the fabric, its tracing forming the main panels of the framebag.
Depending on intended use and aesthetic whims, there are various fabrics and colours to choose from, from the burliest of Corduras for expedition riding to lightest of modern packclothes for ultra endurance racing.
Snip snip snip. Steadier hands than mine.
Just in case I might have had aspirations to rustle up my own framebag, I was told in no uncertain words that each pair of scissors has its own purpose. Of the four, these are the fabric shears. Woe betide anyone who confuses them with the snippers for cutting plastic.
Work begins by lamplight...
Scott's machines are all second hand - this one is an old straight stitcher from the '70s. His bartacker came out of the Dallas Cowboy's uniform shop - unfortunately not the Cheerleaders'.
Vrroooom, vrooom...
Time for some zips. These fellas are known as 'Number 10s', and they're the big daddies of the zip world.
One side completed. This one has a dual compartment and is built with extra tough fabric.
Each panel is lined with a piece of foam, to help provide structure and protect innards. Although these black and white shots don't show it, this particular liner is actually a tasteful shade of Hot Pink...
Take 5. Kaboom calls for a break.
Then it's back to the sewing machine to work on the other side, which features a shallow map sleeve and a see-through storage compartment.
This done, the spine of the bag is then traced out onto a ballistics fabric, chosen for its high abrasion resistance.
Velcro strips are sewn in, to secure the bag in place within the frame.
Each one is carefully positioned to avoid cable bosses and stops, which have been marked out by the frame's pattern.
Back to the machine once more...
Sewing in the main construction stitch - suddenly, it's starting to take shape.
Corner and intricate stitches require working the machine manually.
The framebag's still inside out, but almost there. Note the massive, padded flair at the front for extra storage capacity.
Excess fabric falls to the ground as the bag is trimmed, and then finished with seam ribbon.
And last but not least, the moment of truth: the 'rabbit out of the hat trick'. Scott grapples with the framebag to turn it the right way round.
Framepack builder cradles finished product. Job done.
A final splash of colour... The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. It's a perfect fit!
Notes:
For more details on Scott’s fantastic work, check out Porcelain Rocket and his Flickr page.
The images were taken using a Micro Four Thirds Lumix GH2, with 28 and 40mm pancake primes, at 800-1600 ISO. Scott’s little sweatshop is all but devoid of light, especially away from the work lamps, so I processed the images into black and light using Lightroom.
