Having done a short excursion riding while clipped to the pedals, yesterday I set off on a longer mountain ride to really give them a workout.

昨日のサイクリングは、特別靴を使って、靴とペダルは繋がったままに乗りました。

I didn't have any trouble at the beginning, except at the very beginning when it took me about 10 seconds of trying to clip in before I realized that I hadn't taken the cleat covers (to make walking down to the bike easier) off. Doh!

The ride ended up being 54km (33mi) with 1,190m (3,900') of elevation gain. This is pretty mild for me, but it was my first real ride in more than a month, so I was happy to take it easy to shake off the cobwebs.

Once I got into the steeper climbs, I could definitely feel an advantage to the shoes... energy that I had apparently been using to keep my feet squarely on the pedals was now available on the upstroke to help propel me forward. I wasn't trying to do this... I could just feel it happen naturally.

We had some pretty intense storms blow through recently, so the mountains were pregnant with water. All the rivers were raging and so they were beautiful and they made a nice cool breeze, but the water flowing from the mountain at all sides made the roads wet and slippery.

For normal roads, this “wet and slippery” was an issue only when going down a steep grade, and didn't really matter otherwise except for getting me wet. I mention this to foreshadow that I eventually moved to roads so abnormally-steep that my wheels were slipping even when going up slowly. But that's later.

Anyway, the first climb of the day was 350m to Kyomi Pass, then down through the mountains and up another 150m to Mochikoshi Pass. Just over that pass comes a nice place to rest and see a little village down in the valley below...

This photos just screams “HEY, YOU FORGOT YOUR POLARIZER FILTER MORON!”, because I did. I've posted many examples of how a polarizer filter can help bring out the true color of something, such as this post last year, so I should know better.

So to make amends, I'll dip into my photo archives from the only other time I rode this route, when I did have the polarizer...

That ride on June 4th was with Gorm and Kumiko.

Because Gorm has returned to Norway it's been too long since we've seen his smile, so here it is from that trip...

The short ride down the eastern side from Mochikoshi Pass is really steep (upwards of 14% at times), so I took it very slowly, using only my rear brake. Being clipped into the pedals was on my mind, as I wouldn't be able to quickly compensate for any kind of slip. It was iffy once or twice, but I made it down in one piece.

Going back to the June ride, here's a shot of Gorm on a bridge at the bottom...

The original plan for yesterday was to do half of a “Heart Loop” ride, and if so we would now head back toward Kyoto, but Sakura-san was in the mood to do more climbing and to explore new roads, so we headed farther up into the mountains, on a road that I'd also taken last June.

It was a particularly pretty road last June, I thought...

It started nice enough yesterday...

However, the deeper into the mountain, the worse the road got...

The last 1.7km (1 mile) of the climb averages a 10.5% grade, but at times it's steeper, and with the wetness and general slippery-mossyness of the road, it was quite precarious going up. For long stretches the drive wheel would slip a bit with each downstroke of the pedal, before catching and moving me a bit forward.

The ability of the wheel to grab the road was at the border between “good grip” and “no grip”. If I were to hit a spot where the wheel fully spun under the bike as I put my weight into pedaling down, my forward movement would immediately stop and I'd have only a split second to put my foot down to stop myself from toppling unceremoniously over.

I didn't necessarily have confidence that I could unclip my shoe from the pedal as quickly as I might need, but I never found out... I made it to the top.

Where Gorm is standing in the photo above from last June is where I'm standing in this photo from yesterday:

We headed back down.

Not quite the same caliber of “artsy” as on the June ride. For example:

Did I mention that the area can be really steep?

Here's a picture of Paul Barr in this area on a visit in 2011 that produced “Deep In The Mountains Above Kyoto’s Kumogahata Village” among others...

This is one of the few pictures where I think I captured a sense of the steepness. I'm not very good at that, as I noted in another blog post from that day's outing, “A Photographic Challenge of Monumental Scale”.

In this next picture from about the same location looking down the road, you can see a side road leading off to the left....

I'd been wanting to explore what was on that road, so yesterday we did.

The road that leads off the “main” road starts over a bridge of suspect quality....

Then it goes up and up and up. Not only is it steeper than anything I'd yet done today, at times the road was more or less washed out, leaving deep rocky haphazard ruts where the road should be.

As I'm slowly trying to power myself up this lunar landscape, I remind myself that if it gets too difficult I can't just stop and stand up... I have to either keep going at all costs, or plan for the few moments needed to unclip my foot from the pedal....

... or, I could just hit a deep rut that makes the bike go a different way than momentum carries my body, and fall over into the mud. Yeah, that sounds like the best option.

Well, I wasn't planning on that.

I really wish I could capture just how steep this is. It looks like it's flat in the photo above. Even in this next photo taken later, looking back down after Sakura-san had walked her bike up and was now walking it back down, it looks mostly flat...

I didn't want to give up so I got right back on and continued on up. I was a bit surprised that I could clip in on the extreme slope. Perhaps it was more luck than not.

I continued for another 100m of vertical rise until the steepness/slipperiness factor was just too much, and I gave up.

Crazy steep, but again, I just can't capture it.

I returned to where Sakura-san was waiting, and she snapped a photo for me...

We headed back toward Kyoto, but popped back up to Mochikoshi Pass. I didn't want to push too much (more) on my first ride in a month, so I headed home while she continued on.

Back in the city I seemed to have hit just about every red light. It made for good practice clipping in and out. Even though most times when the light turned green I was able to clip in immediately on the first try, I was surprised every time I did it. I have the feeling that it'll be one of those things that has good days and bad, and that yesterday was a good day.

I wish I hadn't fallen, of course, but at the same time I feel a strange sense of relief having fallen and not really hurt myself beyond a scratch. Stress from the unknown has been taken away, a bit. As a bonus, no one was around when I fell (it would be a minute or so before Sakura-san came pushing her bike up), so it remains my dark little secret.

Continued here...

今日は初めてちゃんとしたサイクリング用の靴を使って、美味く出来ました。倒れる心配は有りましたが、今日は倒れなかった。

After posting “Trepidation and Anticipation: Moving Up to Cycling Shoes” yesterday, I put the pedals on my bike and today I went out for a short test ride with them.

It was much easier than I had feared.

After putting the pedals on yesterday, I tried mounting the bike stationary in my house, and I had a lot of difficulty unclipping the shoes from the pedals, so my fear of falling over went way up. But then it was suggested that perhaps the bolts weren't tight enough, and indeed that was the problem. Once I tightented things properly, it was easy to clip out. Thanks Jason.

Still, with thoughts of slowly toppling over sideways on my mind, I dressed “appropriately”, which in this case means comically. I put some padded braces over my knees and then jeans, and wore padded winter gloves. Not quite the Michelin Man, but close enough. 🙂

I rode near home just to get a feel for them, stopping a number of times to readjust the cleats. Once that was done, I felt comfortable clipping in and out, so moved on for a little ride.

One of the first things I did was a little 50m (150') climb, just to get the feeling for the pedals on a slope, both in and out of the saddle. I put a bit of effort into it, but not too much. I could certainly tell it had been a month since I'd been on the bike. Still, it turns out that I missed my PR by just three seconds, so that bodes well.

I did a couple of other small climbs at a more relaxed pace, then one final climb where I stopped and restarted over and over again, inching my way up. I got pretty good at clipping in quickly and without looking, so that also bodes well.

So, one day down without falling over. Good day. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Continued here...

Since getting bit by the cycling bug earlier in the year, I've been slowly inching my way deeper into it. I took the opportunity of my recent trip back to The States to buy some “real” cycling clothes in my hard-to-find-anywhere-but-particularly-in-Japan size, and this includes for the first time real cycling shoes that firmly attach to the pedals.

Not many shoes come in European size 48 or 49 (cycling shoes seem to use the same scale worldwide, which is really convenient), but I found and ordered three pair at Zappos.com (which I'm always pleased with) from three companies in sizes 48 and 49, and ended up keeping two.

The shoes are combined with cleats that bolt onto the bottom of the shoe, and specialty pedals that the cleats clip into (which are quizzically called “clipless”, even though you most certainly do clip into and out of them; the term “clipless” arose to differentiate from the old “toe cage” type of pedal which at the time had been inexplicably called “clips”).

I'm quite apprehensive about the whole “strongly attached to the bike” thing, because if your foot is connected to the pedal, you don't have it available to stand on should you suddenly need to have a foot on the ground, and so you can easily end up falling over if the need for a free foot arises more suddenly than your ability to free your foot. I've seen it happen with others, even by experienced riders who just couldn't unclip fast enough in that unexpected split second when balance was lost while maneuvering at slow speed.

I've heard that there are two types of cyclists: those who have fallen as described above, and liars.

So, I'm posting this before I actually try them to document my ignorance and apprehension, and later will compare how I feel after getting some experience with them.

I mention “ignorance” because I'm naturally skeptical about their benefits. Everyone I've talked to who uses them recommends them strongly, and many friends from Cycling Kyoto! encourage me to upgrade so that I can enjoy the benefits. The benefits include both safety (“I don't feel safe without them”), and mechanics... the ease and efficiency of pedaling.

I do have trust that the accumulated wisdom of 200 years probably trumps my ignorant assumptions based upon nothing more than unfounded imagination, but that trust is academic, so I need to experience it a bit to actually feel it, I guess.

So I will soon. I'll rewatch videos on how to set up the clips and how to learn riding with them. I'll probably fall over and hurt myself, hopefully not too much. Maybe I'll dress up like the Michelin man for protection. We'll see.

Once I acquire a “real” road bike (something scheduled later this month), I'll move the new pedals to it and visit Vincent Flanagan for a proper fitting, and hopefully then go on to make lots of personal bests on my Strava.

Going forward, I suspect I'll still favor my own “style” (or lack thereof, as the case may be) for my cycling wear, but now that I have “proper” cycling clothes, once everything is in place I'll try a full-on proper cyclist getup and report on it here.

Continued here...

My three weeks in The States visiting my folks is about to end, so I thought I'd post some photos from the previous trip in March, where we drove around the American southwest in a camper. It was a bit overwhelming, and I've barely looked at the photos yet.

今日の記事は今回のアメリカへの旅行の事じゃなくて、三月の旅からの写真です。 その時にはキャップカーでアメリカ合衆国南西部にうるうろ行きました。写真写るが良い所が多いですが、一番良いのは アンテロープ・キャニオンでした。

One of the most photogenic places on earth is Antelope Canyon, near Page Arizona. I posted one photo from it at the time, here.

At first it doesn't seem promising, as the whole area is bleak and desolate...

Visits to the canyon are via tour only. We went with this tour operator and were pleased with it. You meet at their office in downtown Page, Arizona, and before leaving to the canyon one of the guides performs a hoop dance that was surprisingly interesting and skillful. YouTube has a bunch of videos, such as this one, showing the idea.

Then you get into the back of pickup trucks and they drive to the canyon, about ~10 minutes by road followed by about five minutes at bumpy breakneck speed over the desert of fine dustlike sand...

It's an amazing transformation to step into the shadow from the bright light, and in the moments that your eye adjusts, the magical views of the smoothly curving walls envelops you.

You've probably seen a bazillion photos from this place, all sort of the same, all sort of different. It's a really really really photogenic place, and even those haphazardly snapping with their cellphone will likely get great photos to remember the place by.

But to a photographer it's utterly overwhelming because especially in a target-rich place like this a photographer does not passively “take” a photo, a photographer sees a never-ending continuum of results — some better, some worse — and tries to engineer via position and exposure and timing just the result they want. Probably I'm getting a bit melodramatic, but it's a bit like Neo at the end of The Matrix, except that in this place the sensory overload is more overwhelming.

The photo just above of the entrance documents what it looks like. Here's another photo from almost the same location, looking at the same scene from a slightly different angle....

An added challenge is to do all this within the constraints of the tour, which means 1) there are people everywhere, and 2) the tour must complete by a specific time and so moves along at a well-planned brisk pace. Considerate photographers have the third constraint of realizing that they are themselves the “people everywhere” for everyone else, and trying to sense (and avert) when they are the only thing destroying someone else's shot.

Multiple tours are coming and going at the same time, creating and ebb and flow of people. “Patience” is perhaps not the right word considering the limited time one has, but some forethought, some lingering, and a lot of luck can help...

So the low-hanging fruit of a clean shot is to aim up...

... or zoom in...

Sometimes our tour guide would clear a small area and take a portrait for someone. She was really skilled at people handling, and could do this quickly and without making folks feel bossed around. I suspect not all guides were as skillful at it.

Here's a wigglegram I took while someone was having their portrait taken:

To be continued...

Today we stopped by to play ping pong again with Vernon Weingart, now 91 years 1 day old, to make good on my promised rematch from his beating me the other day.

今日も91歳の卓球チャンピオンと遊びませてもらいました。今回はやっと勝った！最初のマッチは完全に負けましたけれども、二回目はぎりぎり勝ちました。勝たれましたかな〜？:-)

After knocking the ball around for a while with Anthony and me, Vernon and I played our first best-of-three match, and he easily beat me in two games. He was much stronger than the last time.

We all knocked the ball around again for a while, and we then played another match. This time I won the first game after having gone to deuce a dozen times.... he was toying with me, but I finally got lucky (or he finally got tired of toying with me), and I won the game. Woo-hoo!

The second game was much the same, and I won after a long time at deuce. I think he let me, but it still felt nice. 🙂

As a championship-level player for more than 40 years, he's been challenged much more before.... he's had multiple world champions in his basement at the same time (“I didn't fare very well that day”). And of course with age (he's 91 years old), the ultra-fast younger generation crush him. He recently played against a girl 1/10th is age who trounced him. “I couldn't do anything against her.” I'm looking forward to see how she plays in the year 2097 when she's his current age.

Anthony also played a lot, and was much better than yesterday. Just the little bit of play with Vernon last time really made his game progress, and he was suddenly spinning and smashing with much better accuracy. Another few days of this and he'll be beating me!

We're planning to play again tomorrow.

UPDATE: We did play again, and Vernon crushed me 4-1. In a typical game he'd get ahead 10-4 (in games to 11) then let me get close before putting in the final nail.