- Trading Post
Friday, September 4, 2015
Although I tend to avoid those types of shots in general, every now and again I post a photo of a bicycle that appears to be free-standing, posed in the middle of a field or some such, without a kickstand or anything else to prop it up. Inevitably someone asks how I achieve this magical feat. Well. Naturally, I use a magical twig! The technique is hardly unique to me, and in fact I recall seeing this so-called trade secret revealed on at least a couple of other "bike photographer" websites, which I cannot seem to find now. Basically, you prop the bicycle up with a stick against the bottom bracket. Then photograph from the drivetrain side, and later photoshop the stick out. Here is one example of a photo taken in this manner. And here is another.
Thursday, September 3, 2015
I was in the passenger's seat of a friend's car as we drove toward town, when suddenly he pressed the horn and gestured out the window. "Hey, there's our friend So-and-So!"
"What? Where, I don't see him."
"There, right beside you! Must be doing his evening run."
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
One day not so long after having moved into the house we currently live in, I was sitting in the front porch, writing, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed the figure of my neighbour Thomas - the owner of the farm next door - circling the yard on a bicycle. Now, to see another person cycling through the farm was in itself unusual. But even aside from this, something about the way he moved through space was sufficiently dissonant to yank me out of my own little world and force me to have a proper look at what was happening. Seated on his bicycle's handlebars in a bolt-upright position, the sexagenarian gentleman was pedaling backwards - cruising around the yard in this manner with an air of utter nonchalance.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Some time during my last visit to the USA I was talking to a bike shop employee about the difficulties of posting complete bicycles to non-local customers. I mentioned the existence of bike boxes that are large enough to fit an entire, fully assembled upright bicycle of Dutch/utility-sized proportions. He told me such things did not exist - that bike boxes are getting ever-smaller, so that anything but a fully disassembled roadbike is becoming impossible to fit inside them. I insisted that I'd seen with my own eyes the kind of box I was describing, whereupon he led me to the shop's computer and asked me to show him. We tried the search a few different ways, but could not find an example. And while I vowed to get back with proof of my claim, life's relentless current got the better of me and I promptly forgot about this debate. Until yesterday. When the two-fork project I am working on with Germano-Italian manufacturer Bella Ciao arrived at my doorstep in all its glory - in just such a box! For scale, here it is shown with a standard sized bike box in front of it, and an especially large upright city bike sandwiched in between.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Over the past week I’ve been doing a site photography project that required me to travel with most of my camera equipment. The distance was a bit further than I typically cycle with that much weight, but I enjoyed the challenge. The first couple of times I rode an upright bike with my gear in the front basket and pannier, since that was the only way to fit it all. It had been a particularly windy week, and the combination of the headwind, the couple of daunting inclines along the way, the extra weight, and the upright position left me pretty tired after these 20 mile trips. So on my last day of shooting, which called for fewer pieces of equipment than required at the start, I decided to make things easier on myself and take “Alice” - my DIY roadbike.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Monday, August 17, 2015
With its slog of a 6-mile climb through exposed boggy scrubland, the Windy Hill Road is everything that it promises. It is windy. And it is hilly. And so one would think the name by which it's officially known would be sufficiently evocative. The locals, however, take the evocative factor up a notch and call it the Murder Hole Road.
Saturday, August 15, 2015
So this is what happens when you spend time on twitter kids, let this be a warning! A fellow bicycle obsessionist posts a link to this tiny-looking 1970s Dawes frame for sale, suggesting I might find it "lovely." I glance at it, smile, and forget all about it. Minutes later I get a private message. "Get it! That's a good frame!"
Really? Aside from being sold cheaply, what exactly is so good about it? Is it the unremarkable construction? Or the peeling aftermarket spray job? Or the fact that it is missing every single friggin component and will be a pain to build up considering how many non-standard parts it will need?
"Seriously, get it before someone else does. If you don't get it, I will."
"Sounds good - enjoy!"
Later that day the Dawes set sail from the Green and Pleasant land to the even greener and pleasanter one across the waters.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Monday, August 10, 2015
One of the trickiest parts to driving a car in rural Ireland, is navigating the narrow winding roads. Even the "main road" where I live is a single carriageway, barely wide enough for two standard-sized cars to pass each other in opposite directions, with constant hairpin bends and blind crests. At the side of the road there is no "shoulder," but instead ravine-like trenches. Let your wheel wander too near to the edge, and your car will be violently pulled off the road. Misjudge the distance in the other direction, and you'll smash into oncoming traffic. As a driver, you cannot ever let your guard down. And you must constantly monitor and reduce your speed.