Saturday in Minneapolis with Taylor and Gunnar without pictures:
We spent a good share of the late morning looking at the bike at Kvale Cycles. CKC wasn't happy with his first painting effort and had stripped it and started over. When we saw it it was primed again and the dark red (shall we call it "pigeon blood"?) had been applied. I looked the frame and fork over close. It is amazing. The pump has been painted the off-white and pearl clear-coated. Actually, seeing the color applied I would describe it as "antique ivory". Taylor and Chris talked a long time. I listened.
Next we went upstairs to talk to Vincent. He was not happy with the original plating job on the stem, so everyone is doing it twice. This time Vincent will be taking more of it in his hands. The plater is going to strip it. Vincent will repair a gouge, redo the fillets so they blend better and polish it to a mirror. It will then be copper plated and he will polish it again and return it for the nickel plating. After all this time, I can wait another week or so.
We were intending to talk to Erik Noren but time slipped away from us and we had another appointment with Mark Stonich. It was very satisfying. Taylor has designed and built a recumbent - Mark a whole bunch of 'em. They went off a 'bent tangent so Jane and I drank fruit juice and talked about cats and bunnies.
After beer and burgers at the Chatterbox, I dropped the Z-Man and his bike off with Amy Marka. As I was leaving I asked him how he was getting home. He said, "My bike, it's only a hundred miles or so."
"In the night...the scream of the rabbit is terrible. But the scream of the owl which is not of pain and hopelessness and fear of being plucked out the world, but of the sheer rollicking glory of the death-bringer, is more terrible still. When I hear it resounding through the woods, and then the five black pellets of its song dropping like stones into the air, I know I am standing on the edge of the mystery, in which terror is naturally and abundantly part of life, part of even the most becalmed, intelligent, sunny life--as for example, my own. The world where the owl is endlessly hungry and endlessly on the hunt is the world in which I live, too. There is only one world."
Mary Oliver, Blue Pastures
Mary Oliver, Blue Pastures
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Gunnar and Z-Man to visit CKC, Dominguez and the Peacock Groove. Report at eleven. ;o)
ARIZONA (The Borowitz Report) – In a fledgling campaign that has already produced more than its share of gaffes, Rep. Michele Bachmann (R-Minn) today confused her ass with a hole in the ground during a campaign swing through Arizona.
Speaking to a group of supporters in Phoenix, Rep. Bachmann raised eyebrows when she said, “It’s great to be here in Arizona, the home of my ass.”
After her comment was greeted with confused murmurs from the crowd, Rep. Bachmann quickly added, “Oh wait, did I say my ass? I meant the Grand Canyon.”
Being unable to tell her ass from a hole in the ground, especially a prominent one such as the Grand Canyon, is only one of many challenges facing Rep. Bachmann in her quest for the Presidency, according to political science professor Davis Logsdon of the University of Minnesota.
“Michele Bachmann is a staunch believer in the theory of Intelligent Design,” he said. “However, Intelligent Design cannot explain Michele Bachmann.”
But Dr. Logsdon added that Rep. Bachmann remains an attractive candidate, especially for those Republican voters who find former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin “too cerebral.”
“When Sarah Palin looks at Michele Bachmann, she must feel the way the Jonas Brothers feel about Justin Bieber,” he said.
In other political news, GOP presidential candidate Newt Gingrich said today that “marriage must be defined as the union between a man, a woman, and the man’s staff member at the time.”
Monday, June 27, 2011
First of all I want to say what a joy is has been to work with Vincent on this - a great guy, intelligent and a wonderful craftsman. I realize there are a couple of readers who abhor stem-mounted shifters. Fair warning, avert your eyes or suffer.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
When I arrived mid-morning the classical music was strong in the air and CKC was on his back on a rug doing stretching exercises. I took a few pictures of the progress of the frame as he completed his routine. We made some decisions on braze-on locations, marking the frame and making notations. Discussed paint colors and transfers. First coat of paint scheduled for Monday.
I talked to Vincent Dominguez for half an hour about alternative energy sources and population control, then drove down to Hiawatha Cyclery and bought some stuff before going over to spend the day with John Kes. That's about it.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Ain't saying who these guys are, but L is a very, very big man by almost any measure and B is just a little nipper, a little nipper who seems very happy to be walking beside him. Love the picture.
I just received a telephone call and email from Dr. Kvale. He is concerned that because of the frame geometry, the spear on the crosstube lug protrudes into the tire clearance crimp in the stay. It is structurally sound, it is purely aesthetics. Just for purdy. Look at the photo and think about that. It will be concealed by both tire and fender. I love it.
Here's one of wind surfing on Superior the other day. Randy was originally from town, Lorna's classmate and bro-in-law of our friends, Judge J. and Sally. Can't figure out how to embed. It's worth a peek.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
I assume a lot of you have been following the 2011 Tour Divide, the 2745 mile solo self supported race from Canada to the Mexico border. Ho-hum. We're getting near the end, entering the Gila desert. For all of you people who think more gears will make you ride faster, the last I looked Jefe Branham is in a virtual tie for the lead with Kurt Refsnider. Jefe is riding a singlespeed bike. Wowzer. Leaderboard
And finally, Superior. "From our boat to your table." the sign says. It dominates the weather, the vistas, livelihood, the food. The fish taste of it's coldness. Fresh fish there means they're alive in a bucket by the door. (I love the fact that in spite of manufactured food, in rural places there is still local food and food traditions.) Even when you're inland, you can sense the lake, know which direction it is. A local weather report included water surface temperature - 34.7F. Three notches above freezing! It's big and deep and doesn't ever really warm up. The wind switches direction and the temperature drops 20 degrees in a heartbeat and fog rolls in faster than you can wish for the jacket hanging in the cabin. It looks like the ocean, feels like the ocean, but it doesn't smell like a sea. It smells fresh and cold. Ice water. It can be beautiful and at times terrible. But you can't ignore it. It makes you want to hum a little Gordon Lightfoot.
A calm day. Ominous. Out on the horizon the thin line of a fog bank lurks, waiting to ponce at the turn of a wind on the unsuspecting pilgrim.
Saturday morning I make a pilgrimage to Chris Kvale Cycles to verify the location of all the braze-ons on the frame. Paint scheduled for Monday.
Stemless Ladyslipper. L counted 29 plants on
a short section of trail just above the cabin.
The Cascade River drops 900 feet in the
last 3 miles before it reaches Superior.
|From The Lake to the ridge - a lot of elevation changes.|
|Tired. Just climbed 900 feet in three miles.|
A lot of it two or three times. ;-)
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The carpet was there when they bought the place, but O'Phelan has promised that next year the carpet will be gone and the floors will be wood with a couple of homey rugs. HE PROMISED! No good pics of the fireplace, but it looks like it does on the outside, except there's a hole in it for the fire.
|Typical drawer/door pull.|
|I liked the label. The wine surprised me.|
|Dog tired hiker.|
Nibbling: Smoked Atlantic salmon with coarse ground black pepper and coriander. Pastrami. Sesame crackers. Green Pastures aged Gouda. Dark chocolate with cherries. Banana. Red wine. Life is hard.