Photo Contest at the City of Chungju
Hello again everyone...on Sunday I went to the city of Chungju to participate in their annual photo contest. The entry fee was 40,000 Korean Won (about $38.) but it covered the fee for hiring the models and lunch.
I used my Nikon D90, 18-105mm and my 70-300mm Nikkor lenses. The weather was cloudy but the light was still fairly good most of the day. Here are a few of my shots from that day...
Confession + DALMAC
So I have not updated this blog in a while, for a few reasons really. Firstly, I haven't been taking many photos since I've been so busy. Second, I've been busy because I've graduated, moved away from Lansing to the Detroit area, and begun looking for a job.
Basically, this leads me to the realization that using such a location-specific URL was probably not a great idea. I'll be deciding on a new name sometime and probably move everything to the new URL. Or maybe just start with a clean slate.
Anyway, my last few days in Lansing were quite interesting from a cyclist's point of view. My wife and I went on our first multi-day bike tour, from Lansing to Seault Ste. Marie*, known to locals as the DALMAC. DALMAC is a sag-supported tour, where you pedal about 60-100 miles a day, set up camp at a high school at a small town, and the volunteers bring along your gear in a UHaul. If you break down terribly they'll help you out and maybe give you a lift to the next stop, but beyond that you're on your own pretty much, as we would find out.
Day 1 was nice, flat, and a good pace. We rode on pretty familiar roads much of the day, and aside from the odd dairy farm and beef farm not much was out there to look at. We set up our tents as it began to drizzle, ate some cafeteria food, and played some cards with the friends we were lucky enough to have with us. Holly's 650b tires showed some cuts, which taught me two lessons: 1, bring a spare if you're rolling on odd-sized tires, and 2, make sure your tires are in good condition BEFORE you're 70 miles from home!
Day 2 was similar, but brought with it some nasty rain showers about 12 miles from camp. We put the hammer down and arrived in camp only to realize the place where the crew had unloaded our gear was now a lake. Lesson: pack your gear in waterproof bags, or in ziplocks within the luggage. So we found a laundromat before closing time, dried out our sleeping bags and clothes, and had a beer or three.
Day 3 was rainy on and off, but the scenery was starting to get more interesting, with pretty rolling hills, pine forests, and friendly people selling pie at a church. A few heavier storms put a bit of a damper on things (har), but in all it wasn't so bad, and we had the opportunity to head over to Short's brewery at Bellaire, Michigan. We'd highly recommend the side trip if you can, as the brewery will be the best food and easily the best beer you'll have all trip. Also, the food at camp was truly awful here. The night fell, and brought with it 50 mph winds and heavy all-night rains. Lesson: Bring rain gear and cold weather gear. Even if you don't use it, it's good to have. You can always pack less warm weather gear and get by, but missing cold and rainy gear sucks when you need it.
Day 4 sucked. No way around it. Heavy winds, biggest hills of the ride, cold, and downpours for all but 10 miles of the day. We started out with about half of the riders who began the tour already having bailed. We would have bailed too at this point if it were an option, but we were up north with nobody to pick us up within hundreds of miles. 14 miles in, after struggling up and braking down difficult hills during the worst rain yet, we flagged down a SAG wagon to see if they'd give us a ride past the hills. No dice said the crew, so we soldiered on until catching up with our friends at a little breakfast spot. We waited through the worst weather while enjoying a hot coffee and warm cinnamon bun.
Heading back out again, it began to look a little nicer (raining on and off instead of constantly), and once we hit Boyne City the sun was downright beaming. At this point our silly crew was actually thinking of going for the century option for the day instead of the 65 mile route. We watched the whitecaps break on the bay as we rolled through town, enjoying the beautiful view. It would be our last fun moment of the day. As we broke north towards Pellston, with about half the day's mileage behind us, the Gods once again showed their anger, gusting winds and stinging rain. In the worst of the weather, we stopped at a McDonalds for respite and food. When the weather continued to worsen, we headed back out to be greeted by a wave of water as we pulled out of the driveway, courtesy of a passing SUV. The roads chosen for this section were the busiest with the worst shoulders of the trip, and combined with the limited visibility I really began to worry for our safety. Lesson: bring along a spare rear blinky light in case. The Superflash in particular seems susceptible to rain-related shorting out, and mine was useless after a couple days of this weather. Also lots of chain lube helps when it rains for 4 straight days.
Eventually we hit the last few miles. I was delirious by this point, egging on fellow riders by conversing, joking, singing aloud, anything I could do to not allow the rain to break me (or had I already broken?) A passerby said "I don't think the heavy stuff's gonna come down for quite a while," to which my Caddyshack-loving wife replied "I'd keep playing." And of course "Rat Farts!" upon reaching the top of the hill. A few miles later I had good reason to proclaim "rat farts" myself, as a shard of glass had worn its way through the casing of my tire, causing a horrible gash. Just like that, my day was over, about 1.5 miles from camp. My wife and I decided to bail out from the last day as the forecast was another rainy day, with winds that would probably prevent a bridge crossing. The last day, the only one we weren't riding, was gorgeous by the way, if anyone was wondering whether we were the jinx.
So would I do DALMAC again? Even if it was guaranteed nice weather, maybe not. I'd do another tour certainly, but honestly DALMAC wasn't really up our alley. Most of the riders are older men who seem to enjoy riding quite a bit faster than we do, and take the ride more seriously than we do in some ways. You certainly need to go with friends, as hanging out at the end of a long ride makes things go a lot better. I'm thinking the easy-riding, hard-partying souls on RAGBRAI might be more our speed.
Basically, this leads me to the realization that using such a location-specific URL was probably not a great idea. I'll be deciding on a new name sometime and probably move everything to the new URL. Or maybe just start with a clean slate.
Anyway, my last few days in Lansing were quite interesting from a cyclist's point of view. My wife and I went on our first multi-day bike tour, from Lansing to Seault Ste. Marie*, known to locals as the DALMAC. DALMAC is a sag-supported tour, where you pedal about 60-100 miles a day, set up camp at a high school at a small town, and the volunteers bring along your gear in a UHaul. If you break down terribly they'll help you out and maybe give you a lift to the next stop, but beyond that you're on your own pretty much, as we would find out.
Day 1 was nice, flat, and a good pace. We rode on pretty familiar roads much of the day, and aside from the odd dairy farm and beef farm not much was out there to look at. We set up our tents as it began to drizzle, ate some cafeteria food, and played some cards with the friends we were lucky enough to have with us. Holly's 650b tires showed some cuts, which taught me two lessons: 1, bring a spare if you're rolling on odd-sized tires, and 2, make sure your tires are in good condition BEFORE you're 70 miles from home!
Day 2 was similar, but brought with it some nasty rain showers about 12 miles from camp. We put the hammer down and arrived in camp only to realize the place where the crew had unloaded our gear was now a lake. Lesson: pack your gear in waterproof bags, or in ziplocks within the luggage. So we found a laundromat before closing time, dried out our sleeping bags and clothes, and had a beer or three.
Day 3 was rainy on and off, but the scenery was starting to get more interesting, with pretty rolling hills, pine forests, and friendly people selling pie at a church. A few heavier storms put a bit of a damper on things (har), but in all it wasn't so bad, and we had the opportunity to head over to Short's brewery at Bellaire, Michigan. We'd highly recommend the side trip if you can, as the brewery will be the best food and easily the best beer you'll have all trip. Also, the food at camp was truly awful here. The night fell, and brought with it 50 mph winds and heavy all-night rains. Lesson: Bring rain gear and cold weather gear. Even if you don't use it, it's good to have. You can always pack less warm weather gear and get by, but missing cold and rainy gear sucks when you need it.
Day 4 sucked. No way around it. Heavy winds, biggest hills of the ride, cold, and downpours for all but 10 miles of the day. We started out with about half of the riders who began the tour already having bailed. We would have bailed too at this point if it were an option, but we were up north with nobody to pick us up within hundreds of miles. 14 miles in, after struggling up and braking down difficult hills during the worst rain yet, we flagged down a SAG wagon to see if they'd give us a ride past the hills. No dice said the crew, so we soldiered on until catching up with our friends at a little breakfast spot. We waited through the worst weather while enjoying a hot coffee and warm cinnamon bun.
Heading back out again, it began to look a little nicer (raining on and off instead of constantly), and once we hit Boyne City the sun was downright beaming. At this point our silly crew was actually thinking of going for the century option for the day instead of the 65 mile route. We watched the whitecaps break on the bay as we rolled through town, enjoying the beautiful view. It would be our last fun moment of the day. As we broke north towards Pellston, with about half the day's mileage behind us, the Gods once again showed their anger, gusting winds and stinging rain. In the worst of the weather, we stopped at a McDonalds for respite and food. When the weather continued to worsen, we headed back out to be greeted by a wave of water as we pulled out of the driveway, courtesy of a passing SUV. The roads chosen for this section were the busiest with the worst shoulders of the trip, and combined with the limited visibility I really began to worry for our safety. Lesson: bring along a spare rear blinky light in case. The Superflash in particular seems susceptible to rain-related shorting out, and mine was useless after a couple days of this weather. Also lots of chain lube helps when it rains for 4 straight days.
Eventually we hit the last few miles. I was delirious by this point, egging on fellow riders by conversing, joking, singing aloud, anything I could do to not allow the rain to break me (or had I already broken?) A passerby said "I don't think the heavy stuff's gonna come down for quite a while," to which my Caddyshack-loving wife replied "I'd keep playing." And of course "Rat Farts!" upon reaching the top of the hill. A few miles later I had good reason to proclaim "rat farts" myself, as a shard of glass had worn its way through the casing of my tire, causing a horrible gash. Just like that, my day was over, about 1.5 miles from camp. My wife and I decided to bail out from the last day as the forecast was another rainy day, with winds that would probably prevent a bridge crossing. The last day, the only one we weren't riding, was gorgeous by the way, if anyone was wondering whether we were the jinx.
So would I do DALMAC again? Even if it was guaranteed nice weather, maybe not. I'd do another tour certainly, but honestly DALMAC wasn't really up our alley. Most of the riders are older men who seem to enjoy riding quite a bit faster than we do, and take the ride more seriously than we do in some ways. You certainly need to go with friends, as hanging out at the end of a long ride makes things go a lot better. I'm thinking the easy-riding, hard-partying souls on RAGBRAI might be more our speed.
Buildin' Bikes
I'm building up quite a few bikes just as I'm ending my tenure as a bike shop employee. I'm through two right now and on to the third, and all of them have my stamp on them for sure - steel-framed bikes that ride fast and smooth, and look clean.
First up is an Austro-Daimler bike that my Dad had given to him mostly intact. This bike basically needed only tires, tubes, cables, and bar tape. I also added on a set of aero brake levers as the originals had long ago stopped functioning well, and also a new saddle to cushion Dad's old butt. I wanted to put some nice 700x28 tires on it to smooth out the ride even more, but the 700x25 was as wide as I had ready access to.
The Austro-Daimler Inter-10 is an interesting bike. Austro-Daimler is the US brand name for Puch before they decided A-D wasn't such an awesome name. Made in Austria from butted Reynolds 531, this bike is actually at the bottom of A-D's offerings, which just amazes me. At 23 pounds, it's pretty darn light for a large steel bike from the seventies. It came with a mix of Suntour Cyclone and Huret shifters and derailers, a Nervex crankset, Atom hubs and Rigida rims, all of which is very nice stuff! Thankfully the bottom bracket is in good shape as I'd hate to try to find out what threading it has. It's a fast bike, and well above my Dad's current skill and fitness level, so it's something he can grow into if he wants. It's too big for me, so I won't be keeping it.
My wife's bike is something I've shown before, an '80s Wisconsin-built Trek 560, built originally for road racing but adapted by me with 650b wheels and fast cushy tires for longer tours. She'll be riding it on this year's DALMAC from Lansing to Seault Ste. Marie. I finally got rid of the old Schwinn steel wheels I used for the conversion at first, replacing them with a 105 set from Velo Orange. If you haven't seen their high-polished aluminum rims in person, it's a sight to behold. Another mechanic in the shop today was convinced they were chromed steel from the shine. Actually many of their bike bits are just great in terms of aesthetics and value, and they make many things that nobody else has, from French bottom brackets and headsets to a new T-A copy crank that I'll have a hard time resisting.
I added on older 8-speed Dura-Ace shifters, a Campagnolo front Derailer and modern Shimano rear, none of which should work together and yet does, amazingly. Because she has long legs and a shorter torso than most riders, she needs a funky stem setup (tall rise and short reach) to get comfortable on these frames, which means that someday she'll probably need a custom frame to fit her correctly. Maybe a Sweetpea.
The final bike is an old Peugeot Mixte that needs a bit of work. No photos of that one yet! I have two other friends I want to build up bikes for, but no donor frames yet. Unfortunately this is more a labor of love than a money-making scheme, as bike parts are too expensive to really make any money doing this the right way; I figure I'm happier building bikes I like for people I love, than building crappy bikes by cutting corners to try to make a buck.
First up is an Austro-Daimler bike that my Dad had given to him mostly intact. This bike basically needed only tires, tubes, cables, and bar tape. I also added on a set of aero brake levers as the originals had long ago stopped functioning well, and also a new saddle to cushion Dad's old butt. I wanted to put some nice 700x28 tires on it to smooth out the ride even more, but the 700x25 was as wide as I had ready access to.
The Austro-Daimler Inter-10 is an interesting bike. Austro-Daimler is the US brand name for Puch before they decided A-D wasn't such an awesome name. Made in Austria from butted Reynolds 531, this bike is actually at the bottom of A-D's offerings, which just amazes me. At 23 pounds, it's pretty darn light for a large steel bike from the seventies. It came with a mix of Suntour Cyclone and Huret shifters and derailers, a Nervex crankset, Atom hubs and Rigida rims, all of which is very nice stuff! Thankfully the bottom bracket is in good shape as I'd hate to try to find out what threading it has. It's a fast bike, and well above my Dad's current skill and fitness level, so it's something he can grow into if he wants. It's too big for me, so I won't be keeping it.
My wife's bike is something I've shown before, an '80s Wisconsin-built Trek 560, built originally for road racing but adapted by me with 650b wheels and fast cushy tires for longer tours. She'll be riding it on this year's DALMAC from Lansing to Seault Ste. Marie. I finally got rid of the old Schwinn steel wheels I used for the conversion at first, replacing them with a 105 set from Velo Orange. If you haven't seen their high-polished aluminum rims in person, it's a sight to behold. Another mechanic in the shop today was convinced they were chromed steel from the shine. Actually many of their bike bits are just great in terms of aesthetics and value, and they make many things that nobody else has, from French bottom brackets and headsets to a new T-A copy crank that I'll have a hard time resisting.
I added on older 8-speed Dura-Ace shifters, a Campagnolo front Derailer and modern Shimano rear, none of which should work together and yet does, amazingly. Because she has long legs and a shorter torso than most riders, she needs a funky stem setup (tall rise and short reach) to get comfortable on these frames, which means that someday she'll probably need a custom frame to fit her correctly. Maybe a Sweetpea.
The final bike is an old Peugeot Mixte that needs a bit of work. No photos of that one yet! I have two other friends I want to build up bikes for, but no donor frames yet. Unfortunately this is more a labor of love than a money-making scheme, as bike parts are too expensive to really make any money doing this the right way; I figure I'm happier building bikes I like for people I love, than building crappy bikes by cutting corners to try to make a buck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)