Stefan Mikes
Well-Known Member
- Region
- Europe
- City
- Mazovia, Poland
David, your photos are stunningly beautiful! Please tell me: are you using the tripod?
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
Stefan, the Ortlieb E-Mate's battery sleeve just happens to be the right size for a small tripod.
Sierratim
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Nevada City, CA & Paradise Valley, AZ
We finally have some nice Spring weather! Did a pleasant 23 mile out and back to say hi to some old friends living by a nearby lake. Our snow all melted off in last week's never ending rains. Their home is at a higher elevation. Roadside snow appeared ~1/2 up to their home.
I was in shorts for the first time this year. Amazingly comfortable.
There was more snow at their home.
Had a nice socially distanced chat with the friends and headed down to the lake.
The boat launches are closed so no one was out fishing. Unusually quite for a Spring day.
Total riding time was just under 2hrs with 3,523 feet of elevation gain. 3,569 feet of elevation loss? Guess my house dropped down the hill while I was out! It's amazing the GPS is as accurate as it is, esp in consumer products.
Ride on!
I was in shorts for the first time this year. Amazingly comfortable.
There was more snow at their home.
Had a nice socially distanced chat with the friends and headed down to the lake.
The boat launches are closed so no one was out fishing. Unusually quite for a Spring day.
Total riding time was just under 2hrs with 3,523 feet of elevation gain. 3,569 feet of elevation loss? Guess my house dropped down the hill while I was out! It's amazing the GPS is as accurate as it is, esp in consumer products.
Ride on!
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
Tim …
GPS accuracy is uncanny. Here are screenshots from Ride with GPS of this week's rides from home showing elevation gained and lost to be exactly the same.
… David
Sierratim
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Nevada City, CA & Paradise Valley, AZ
Uncanny. How's you tree cover? My ride was under a heavy forest canopy almost the entire route cresting two ridges. I suppose this could impact my signal, but still ~1% accuracy seems close enough.
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
Mostly under clear skies, hence the long-sleeved shirt and wide-brimmed helmet.
Mr. Coffee
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- A Demented Corner of the North Cascades
Just another day of social distancing...
Readytoride
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Virginia
Gosh, that is such beautiful scenery. And that snow... I've seen more snow in your photos than I've seen on our fields in the past 4 years. Seriously. And I know that because we bought our snowblower 4 years ago and have yet to use it. Global warming has already settled in to stay in Virginia.
PDXzap
Well-Known Member
It's California... of course it moved while you were gone!
A little too much wind today but there was a lot of sunshine. A couple of different views of the Willamette River south of Portland.
And... another flower shot... or two.
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
Not quite up to Texas standards …
Patrick Estate, Queensland
Location on Map
And I forgot to bring along a bag of dried apple rings!Location on Map
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Saratoga Dave
Well-Known Member
PDX, is that Mount Hood, Jefferson or some other player? Gorgeous pic.
Our son got married in Welches last summer... it was our first trip out that way. What a beautiful area.
Our son got married in Welches last summer... it was our first trip out that way. What a beautiful area.
PDXzap
Well-Known Member
Hood and thx.
Lots of beauty in this area but for me it takes some time to find the views... I guess that's one of the things I miss most about Denver, there were always "views" there.
That picture was taken here:
45°26'11.2"N 122°39'11.9"W · 12388-12272 S Riverside Dr, Portland, OR 97219
12388-12272 S Riverside Dr, Portland, OR 97219
www.google.com
I've always wanted to ride Hwy 43/SW Riverside Dr. but it's not bike friendly. 45 mph speed limit and many of the cars are doing 55+ mph and for maybe a quarter mile stretch there's no real shoulder whatsoever
I decided to ride it with the reduction in traffic from the pandemic and at an "off" time of day. It wasn't horrible but a bit nerve racking for sure.
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
The gate to Humpty's paddock
Autumn colours have arrived. Sneaked up on us! The grass that was transformed from brown to vivid green after the February rains is now taking on its autumn hue. In a few months Humpty's paddock will be the colour of straw and before the spring rains arrive – let's hope they aren't absent this year – the grass, if there's any left will be grey.
Where's Humpty? Drop a line from the mobile phone tower on the highest point on the Marburg Range to the fence post; Humpty is the camel shape to the line's left. The grass there is sweeter and who cares about shade, if you're a camel, even if the temperature is in the mid-thirties!
Photos to follow will show the view back from the Marburg Range to Humpty's paddock.
Autumn colours have arrived. Sneaked up on us! The grass that was transformed from brown to vivid green after the February rains is now taking on its autumn hue. In a few months Humpty's paddock will be the colour of straw and before the spring rains arrive – let's hope they aren't absent this year – the grass, if there's any left will be grey.
Where's Humpty? Drop a line from the mobile phone tower on the highest point on the Marburg Range to the fence post; Humpty is the camel shape to the line's left. The grass there is sweeter and who cares about shade, if you're a camel, even if the temperature is in the mid-thirties!
Photos to follow will show the view back from the Marburg Range to Humpty's paddock.
Last edited by a moderator:
Mr. Coffee
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- A Demented Corner of the North Cascades
Another day, another dusty ride...
Mr. Coffee
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- A Demented Corner of the North Cascades
Well, actually our low-elevation snow pack is far below average. But it has been cold for the last five or six weeks so what little snow there is isn't melting out very rapidly. For the moment that limits where I can ride.
Readytoride
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Virginia
The color gray isn't all its cracked up to be. Yes, I know it is the non-color favored by Millennials around the globe, but to me the color gray falls into that listless never-never land of non-choice when one just can't decide if one wants black, or one wants white.
To select it for a sky color? No, I'm afraid it just doesn't work. At all.
And yet here we were, looking up at the heavens, expecting what should have been brilliant robin's egg blue splashed in an lofty arc from horizon to horizon suffused with the brilliant light from our own personal star, and getting....a non-choice of a completely opaque non-color. As if an artist had prepped a canvas in this non-color, but before laying on the classic colors of a brilliant painting had walked off with the sun tucked under one arm to get a cup of coffee, and somehow failed to return.
Who wants to set out on an ebike adventure under a...well, there's no way to say it politely except to say ...an underwhelming unpainted sky? Even the robust kaleidoscope of techicolors presented by the Spring landscape struggled against this meh celestial backdrop. No sun, a gray lifeless sky. All the pretty colors of Spring looked muted, the trees and flowers turning their confused faces upwards, searching fruitlessly for the missing celestial blue and sunshine. It was the type of afternoon that suggested I stay home instead, reclining in an easy chair, a good book on my lap, sleeping dogs scattered around on the rug at my feet, a warm blanket thrown over my legs, and my head leaning back while I "rested my eyes", as my mother used to say, indulging in a well deserved afternoon nap.
Yet, here I stood outside under this Millennial inspired sky, bundled up to deflect the chilly breeze of the late afternoon, putting on my warm gloves as I contemplated my choices on which gravel roads to ride. I was on my trusty old (I suppose I could call it old now) ebike. My brand new ebike sat quietly in the garage, but I didn't give it a second glance. It would have to wait for a clear sunny day for its maiden voyage. A day so full of sunshine that the glitter in the paint would light up as if the bike was made of brilliant sparkles.
The gravel roads winding along the feet of the mountains seemed like a good choice for a gray afternoon, so I set off into the wind, ducking my head to watch the road pass under my feet, my mind wandering off to think about other things of little importance. Like how the gray gravel road was an absolutely perfect color match for the gray featureless sky and if I could just move a few of those trees out of the way, and perhaps the mountain, too, then the road would go to the vanishing point blending right into the sky with no way to tell one from the other. Just like a Ring World. The road would just go on and on and up and up, endlessly gray into the gray. To infinity and beyond...
And then my phone pinged a message. It was from my ebiking friend 100 miles south of me. She knew I was riding and wanted to know how I was liking my new bike.
Now, the entire cell phone carrying population of humanity, held in the thrall of these hand held telecommunication wonders, knows it is impossible to ignore a text message for more than a few seconds before the overwhelming urge hits to answer it. At all costs.
So I stopped my bike to text her back that I wasn't on the new bike. Still on the old bike 'cuz I was on the gravel roads.
Message sent, I mounted up and began pedaling on.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. A crying face emoji.
I stopped, texted her back that I was waiting for a sunny day to light up my new bike's paint sparkles. Maybe this weekend (smiling sun emoji).
Message sent, I mounted up and began pedaling on.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. A happy face emoji. And some text. She wasn't riding, the day was too yucky. She was busy making face masks, delighted that she actually remembered how to sew. The phone pinged again. A picture this time, her face wearing one of her new masks.
I stopped, texted her back that I thought her masks looked terrific (smiling face emoji), congratulated her on remembering how to use her sewing machine, and told her I had just stopped at the estate with the Happy Chicken Eggs sign out on the road and was going to buy a dozen eggs to take home. I hoped the carton would fit in my panniers.
(Note: it did). (2nd Note: see my prior story on passing the Happy Chicken Eggs sign on a previous ride, complete with picture).
Message sent, I set down the bike's kickstand for the bike to wait for me while I opened the cooler at the sign to check out the stacked egg cartons inside, selected one, put my $4 in the little zippered "honor system" money bag that already contained plenty of cash from other people who had stopped to buy Happy Chicken eggs, managed to fit the egg container (just barely as it was a tight fit) into one of the bike panniers, mounted up and began pedaling on.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. My friend said she hoped I didn't arrive home with scrambled eggs.
I stopped, texted her back that I hoped not either since this gravel road had just been groomed and a really thick coating of new gravel had been laid down. I was crawling along at barely 9mph (unhappy emoji face), but at least the wind was now at my back so that was good (thumbs up emoji).
Message sent, I mounted up and pedaled on. The newly graveled road just went on endlessly, and I finally took refuge on an adjoining road that hadn't been redressed and still had the solid packed surface that allowed me to happily get back up to speed. I was zooming along now, waving at the various landowners out mowing or weeding flower beds at their driveway entry. Everyone seemed in a working mode, but smiles abounded and hand waves were happily exchanged with me as I sailed along, the wind at my back and a dozen Happy Chicken Eggs tucked in my panniers.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. This time from my neighbor 4 miles down the road. She was out for a ride on her ebike and wanted to stop by to see my new bike if I was home. (Note: she has the same ebike as my new one, just a year older.)
I stopped, texted her back that I was out for a ride and had some miles left to go. How long would it take her to ride from her place to mine?
Message sent, I mounted up and pedaled on, back up to speed when....
My phone pinged again. Another text message. It would take her about 15 minutes.
I stopped, texted her back that I would be back home by then and would see her there.
Message sent, I mounted up, happy to turn my bike's nose towards home, reaching my destination with a minute or so to spare. My gps read a grand total of 15 miles. Eh, good enough for a day like today, I suppose.
I was just stepping off my bike when...
My phone pinged again. Another text message. She said she was walking up my driveway.
I stepped out of the garage and waved her to come up. She parked her ebike, and we spent a wonderful, very chatty half hour discussing bikes, horses (she foxhunts), electric cars (she wants one and asked me all kinds of questions about mine) and, of course, admiring my sparkling new new ebike. We could have easily talked the rest of the afternoon away but she needed to finish her ride. We both agreed to meet on the next available sunny day to ride (our bikes) together.
During the half hour we had been talking in the garage, the wind had stopped blowing, the temps had risen to a delicious warmth, the gray sky had inexplicably disappeared, the robin's egg blue sky had abruptly reappeared, the sun had burst into view with the intensity of a million watt spotlight, and every blossoming tree, shrub, and ground flower rejoiced. The world sparkled.
I waved goodbye to my neighbor as she set off into the remains of a brilliant afternoon, then retrieved my Happy Chicken Eggs from my panniers, noting with dismay a bit of trailing goo emanating from one end of the carton, a sure sign that I had at least one Unhappy Chicken Egg in the dozen. (Note: fortunately, it was only one egg cracked from the rough ride home, the other 11 were still happy)
We have been promised sunny days ahead. I'm ready. So is my sparkling new bike. (Three hearts and a happy face emoji)
The 2019 Giant LaFree E+1 (white) and the new 2020 Specialized Turbo Vado 4.0 (maroon). The Vado is getting kitted out with pink accessories. Still need my new phone mount to arrive from Amazon.com, and to switch over the seat to my second Serfas Rx saddle (currently on my road bike) Once those two items are installed the new bike is good to go. I may order another Kinext seat suspension post as well.
To select it for a sky color? No, I'm afraid it just doesn't work. At all.
And yet here we were, looking up at the heavens, expecting what should have been brilliant robin's egg blue splashed in an lofty arc from horizon to horizon suffused with the brilliant light from our own personal star, and getting....a non-choice of a completely opaque non-color. As if an artist had prepped a canvas in this non-color, but before laying on the classic colors of a brilliant painting had walked off with the sun tucked under one arm to get a cup of coffee, and somehow failed to return.
Who wants to set out on an ebike adventure under a...well, there's no way to say it politely except to say ...an underwhelming unpainted sky? Even the robust kaleidoscope of techicolors presented by the Spring landscape struggled against this meh celestial backdrop. No sun, a gray lifeless sky. All the pretty colors of Spring looked muted, the trees and flowers turning their confused faces upwards, searching fruitlessly for the missing celestial blue and sunshine. It was the type of afternoon that suggested I stay home instead, reclining in an easy chair, a good book on my lap, sleeping dogs scattered around on the rug at my feet, a warm blanket thrown over my legs, and my head leaning back while I "rested my eyes", as my mother used to say, indulging in a well deserved afternoon nap.
Yet, here I stood outside under this Millennial inspired sky, bundled up to deflect the chilly breeze of the late afternoon, putting on my warm gloves as I contemplated my choices on which gravel roads to ride. I was on my trusty old (I suppose I could call it old now) ebike. My brand new ebike sat quietly in the garage, but I didn't give it a second glance. It would have to wait for a clear sunny day for its maiden voyage. A day so full of sunshine that the glitter in the paint would light up as if the bike was made of brilliant sparkles.
The gravel roads winding along the feet of the mountains seemed like a good choice for a gray afternoon, so I set off into the wind, ducking my head to watch the road pass under my feet, my mind wandering off to think about other things of little importance. Like how the gray gravel road was an absolutely perfect color match for the gray featureless sky and if I could just move a few of those trees out of the way, and perhaps the mountain, too, then the road would go to the vanishing point blending right into the sky with no way to tell one from the other. Just like a Ring World. The road would just go on and on and up and up, endlessly gray into the gray. To infinity and beyond...
And then my phone pinged a message. It was from my ebiking friend 100 miles south of me. She knew I was riding and wanted to know how I was liking my new bike.
Now, the entire cell phone carrying population of humanity, held in the thrall of these hand held telecommunication wonders, knows it is impossible to ignore a text message for more than a few seconds before the overwhelming urge hits to answer it. At all costs.
So I stopped my bike to text her back that I wasn't on the new bike. Still on the old bike 'cuz I was on the gravel roads.
Message sent, I mounted up and began pedaling on.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. A crying face emoji.
I stopped, texted her back that I was waiting for a sunny day to light up my new bike's paint sparkles. Maybe this weekend (smiling sun emoji).
Message sent, I mounted up and began pedaling on.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. A happy face emoji. And some text. She wasn't riding, the day was too yucky. She was busy making face masks, delighted that she actually remembered how to sew. The phone pinged again. A picture this time, her face wearing one of her new masks.
I stopped, texted her back that I thought her masks looked terrific (smiling face emoji), congratulated her on remembering how to use her sewing machine, and told her I had just stopped at the estate with the Happy Chicken Eggs sign out on the road and was going to buy a dozen eggs to take home. I hoped the carton would fit in my panniers.
(Note: it did). (2nd Note: see my prior story on passing the Happy Chicken Eggs sign on a previous ride, complete with picture).
Message sent, I set down the bike's kickstand for the bike to wait for me while I opened the cooler at the sign to check out the stacked egg cartons inside, selected one, put my $4 in the little zippered "honor system" money bag that already contained plenty of cash from other people who had stopped to buy Happy Chicken eggs, managed to fit the egg container (just barely as it was a tight fit) into one of the bike panniers, mounted up and began pedaling on.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. My friend said she hoped I didn't arrive home with scrambled eggs.
I stopped, texted her back that I hoped not either since this gravel road had just been groomed and a really thick coating of new gravel had been laid down. I was crawling along at barely 9mph (unhappy emoji face), but at least the wind was now at my back so that was good (thumbs up emoji).
Message sent, I mounted up and pedaled on. The newly graveled road just went on endlessly, and I finally took refuge on an adjoining road that hadn't been redressed and still had the solid packed surface that allowed me to happily get back up to speed. I was zooming along now, waving at the various landowners out mowing or weeding flower beds at their driveway entry. Everyone seemed in a working mode, but smiles abounded and hand waves were happily exchanged with me as I sailed along, the wind at my back and a dozen Happy Chicken Eggs tucked in my panniers.
My phone pinged again. Another text message. This time from my neighbor 4 miles down the road. She was out for a ride on her ebike and wanted to stop by to see my new bike if I was home. (Note: she has the same ebike as my new one, just a year older.)
I stopped, texted her back that I was out for a ride and had some miles left to go. How long would it take her to ride from her place to mine?
Message sent, I mounted up and pedaled on, back up to speed when....
My phone pinged again. Another text message. It would take her about 15 minutes.
I stopped, texted her back that I would be back home by then and would see her there.
Message sent, I mounted up, happy to turn my bike's nose towards home, reaching my destination with a minute or so to spare. My gps read a grand total of 15 miles. Eh, good enough for a day like today, I suppose.
I was just stepping off my bike when...
My phone pinged again. Another text message. She said she was walking up my driveway.
I stepped out of the garage and waved her to come up. She parked her ebike, and we spent a wonderful, very chatty half hour discussing bikes, horses (she foxhunts), electric cars (she wants one and asked me all kinds of questions about mine) and, of course, admiring my sparkling new new ebike. We could have easily talked the rest of the afternoon away but she needed to finish her ride. We both agreed to meet on the next available sunny day to ride (our bikes) together.
During the half hour we had been talking in the garage, the wind had stopped blowing, the temps had risen to a delicious warmth, the gray sky had inexplicably disappeared, the robin's egg blue sky had abruptly reappeared, the sun had burst into view with the intensity of a million watt spotlight, and every blossoming tree, shrub, and ground flower rejoiced. The world sparkled.
I waved goodbye to my neighbor as she set off into the remains of a brilliant afternoon, then retrieved my Happy Chicken Eggs from my panniers, noting with dismay a bit of trailing goo emanating from one end of the carton, a sure sign that I had at least one Unhappy Chicken Egg in the dozen. (Note: fortunately, it was only one egg cracked from the rough ride home, the other 11 were still happy)
We have been promised sunny days ahead. I'm ready. So is my sparkling new bike. (Three hearts and a happy face emoji)
The 2019 Giant LaFree E+1 (white) and the new 2020 Specialized Turbo Vado 4.0 (maroon). The Vado is getting kitted out with pink accessories. Still need my new phone mount to arrive from Amazon.com, and to switch over the seat to my second Serfas Rx saddle (currently on my road bike) Once those two items are installed the new bike is good to go. I may order another Kinext seat suspension post as well.
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RabH
Well-Known Member
Nice bike, I love the colour! I hope you have many fun miles riding it.
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
Abandoned …
The windmill still spins but no water trickles into the tank. Strange how the name on the vane – Southern Cross – endures.
Comment:
Mahon Road, Coominya
Location on Map
When the front door was closed (locked?) for the last time, did this old farmhouse's inhabitants realise that a century or more of continuous occupation had come to an end. Had I peeped through the open window, would I have seen an unmade bed and broken furniture? So many decades – generations more likely – and now this.Location on Map
The windmill still spins but no water trickles into the tank. Strange how the name on the vane – Southern Cross – endures.
Comment:
- If you follow the map link you can use Street View to take a virtual ride along Mahon Road – flat as flat can be! And narrow with very little traffic. Lockyer Creek is on the southern side.
- The Street View photo is from ten years ago. It shows what happens when homes are abandoned!
Last edited by a moderator:
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
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