Blue Gourd Vase

Comfortable Carbon: Trying the Parlee Z5

Looking down at my handlebars around mile 50, I felt a pang of alarm at the sight of unfamiliar decals. Then I remembered: I wasn't riding my own bike. I had gotten so comfortable, I'd forgotten. A stern voice in my head began to chastise me. "Come on, you are doing a test ride. You're supposed to be paying attention to the ride characterisics - not enjoying the scenery." Easier said than done!




To explain how I came to test ride the Parlee Z5, it may help to give a bit of a backstory. For some time, I've been interested in getting a feel for carbon fiber roadbikes. However, my attempts at this have been less than successful. I've ridden a handful of carbon bikes briefly, but either they were not set up for me to do a proper test ride, or I found the ride quality too harsh to actually want to ride them for any length of time. Of course not all carbon bikes feel the same, just like not all steel bikes feel the same. With this in mind, I finally approached the matter more strategically and talked to some industry insiders familiar with my riding style and preferences. A few suggestions kept coming up. Among them was the Parlee Z5.






Parlee Cycles are a small and local-to-me company, based in Beverly, Massachusetts. So the idea of trying one of their bikes was appealing. Later this summer I plan to visit the factory and write about them in more detail. Parlee offers both custom frames, built on the premises, and production models designed inhouse and built in Taiwan. The Z5 is the latter.




The demo bike was lent to me by Cycle Loft, a Boston Parlee dealer. After undergoing a fitting session, my position on the Z5 ended up near-identical to that on my own roadbike, making for a seamless transition. I kept the bike for a week and rode it for about 135 miles.






Even before I rode the Z5, I could see why this bike was suggested to me. To call its appearance "classic" might be pushing it. But the aesthetic is clean, subtle, neutral. I did not find myself biased against it, in a "Meh, this is ugly" kind of way. In fact, I find it rather pretty.






Made from a single carbon piece (what is known as "monocoque construction"), the Z5 frame has a seamless, sculpted look to it. At the same time, the round tubes and the smooth, but crisply delineated joints, bear a resemblance to those of metal bikes. There are no MC Escher-esque bulges or round-to-square taperings here; the frame looks simple and familiar. For those who are curious to try carbon fiber but wince at the look they associate itwith, I do think Parlee eases the transition.






I rode the Parlee Z5 in size Small (Tall), which translates to a 52.5cm top tube and a slightly extended headtube compared to their standard Small. The complete geometry specs are here. The bike was fitted with a SRAM Force group andMavic Ksyrium Elite wheels with 23mm Michelin Pro 4 tires (complete build specs here). Though I have Campagnolo on my own bike, I feel very comfortable with SRAM and have no trouble switching back and forth. The handlebars included in the standard build were 2mm narrower than the (42mm) bars on my own bike, but otherwise the fit was almost identical.






The one disappointment was that the front-center was a bit tighter than I like. With 23mm tires, I had a tiny bit of toe overlap. The amount was minimal, and I still felt comfortable test riding the bike. But with 25mm tires I would not be.





Riding the Parlee home, my first impressions were dominated by how comfortable it felt - namely, the ride quality over harsh roads, bumps and potholes. To provide some background, I am pretty sensitive to ride quality and cannot stand a bike that feels harsh. It does not matter how fast it is, how nimble, or how good at climbing: If I feel vibrations from the road or pain from going over bumps, I just can't take it for more than a few miles. This sensitivity was a big factor in my own roadbike purchasing decision a couple of years ago, and a major reason I went with a titanium Seven. So with that as my personal bike, granted I am now a bit spoiled in the ride quality department. Lots of bikes feel at least a little harsh compared to my Seven.



Lots of bikes, but not the Parlee Z5. Nope. The Z5 was flawlessly smooth. As in zero road buzz sensation, zero pain over bumps and potholes. At some point I started intentionally riding it over every stretch of broken pavement I could find, but I couldn't feel a thing.





Of course, whether it feels painful or not, a roadbike with skinny tires will still toss you around on bad roads. And it is here that I could feel a difference in the Z5 compared to my own bike. Until now, I had considered my Seven to be quite stiff. But after some time on the Parlee, I could feel a "give" in my own bike that I had not detected before. In comparison, there is no give to the Parlee at all; on bumpy roads it sort of bounces as one unit rather than exhibit even a slight amount of yield.






But despite being stiffer, the Parlee did not feel harsher than my own bike, even as I rode it longer. To my surprise, neither did it feel faster. I rode alone and I rode with some fast friends. Each time, speed and effort-wise, it felt just like being on my own roadbike.




I decided to ride the Parlee on a 100K New England Randonneurs "Permanent" course I had done alone a few weeks earlier (67 miles, with 3,800 feet of climbing). Just as I'd done previously, I timed myself and genuinely tried to do my best. My average rolling speed on the Parlee was 13.3mph, whereas on my own bike it had been 13.1mph - a difference too small to be significant, considering that my fitness had also increased a bit since the earlier ride. Of course this bit of anecdotal evidence may not mean much. But it reflects my subjective experience of the bike.




One reason I picked this particular 100K route for the test ride, was for its brief unpaved stretches. The bike rode on broken pavement so nicely, I was curious how it would do on dirt and gravel. Just as nicely, it turns out. While I prefer to do unpaved rides on wide tires at low pressure, if I must ride skinny tires the Z5 is as good as it gets.






Aside from all this, I did feel something distinct to this bike in the course of my test rides. It was a sensation in the rear triangle - possibly the chainstays, and it was specific to cornering. It was as if the rear responded to cornering differently from what I am used to. The chainstay area felt lighter somehow, almost as if it wanted to skip or lift off on corners. Well, maybe describing it that way makes it sound too negative. Unfortunately, I don't know how to explain it any better, but I actually liked this sensation. I found the bike to be maneuverable on corners in a way I had not previously experienced.




Normally, I am pretty sensitive to a bike's front-end handling, and less so to other aspects. The Parlee was the first time I was struck by characteristics specific to the rear of the bike.






While technically not the first carbon fiber roadbike I've ridden, the Parlee Z5 is the first one I've put a sufficient number of miles on to warrant a report. In part this is thanks to Cycle Loft, for lending it out and setting it up to fit me perfectly. And in part it's thanks to the bike's comfortable feel, which made me want to keep riding for miles and miles. Much like on my own bike, I did not experience fatigue on the Z5 after strenuous rides. And much like on my own bike, the handling, for the most part, felt "unnoticeable" - encouraging me to focus on the scenery and the ride itself, rather than on the bike.




Going into this test ride, I had several expectations about the feel and performance of carbon fiber: Namely, that it would feel harsher, stiffer and faster than my own bike. The Parlee Z5 felt only stiffer, and even that was only noticeable to me under certain conditions. Granted, I don't race, I don't ride aggressively, I spin rather than mash, and I don't climb out of the saddle. My impressions are limited to the kind of riding I do. And that riding involves 50-100 mile jaunts, sometimes more, usually with lots of climbing and usually on bad roads.I like a fast bike that makes me feel weightless. And I also like to be comfortable. As far as that kind of riding goes, I felt right at home on the Parlee Z5.

Gunks Routes: Easy Overhang (5.2) & Son of Easy O (5.8)

It was one of those treasured weekdays in the Gunks. I was going climbing with Margaret, one of my longest-running climbing friends, but with whom I somehow haven't climbed outside in years. She wanted to do some easy leads. I just wanted to climb and didn't much care what we did. And with a heat wave rolling through and temperatures in the high 90s, easy leads sounded pretty good to me.



After I warmed us up with a run up Rhododendron (5.6-) we took the quick walk over to Easy Overhang, which neither of us had ever done and which Margaret wanted to lead.





(Photo: Almost through pitch one of Easy Overhang, having gone in and out of the 5.1 chimney.)



Pitch one is rated only 5.1, but the opening move (up a little flake and left to the chimney that makes up most of the pitch) sure feels harder than that. Neither Margaret nor I were at any risk of falling off, of course, but it was kind of a wake-up call. I get this same wake-up call whenever I do a super-easy climb in the Gunks. There's always a move somewhere that makes you think a little, no matter what the rating is. On Easy Overhang it comes right off the ground. It's just hard enough, I imagine, to give a brand new leader pause about what's to come, and it could cause real problems for a totally inexperienced climber. After we finished the climb, in fact, I saw a young girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen struggling mightily with these first moves of the pitch while her belayer/dad chatted on his cellular phone, oblivious. I gave her a little beta and she eventually got through it, but not without some skidding feet here and there.



Once you are established in the chimney the climb is as easy as advertised up to the bolts at the belay ledge. I thought it was pleasant, good fun. When I got to the bolts I looked up at the 5.2 pitch two and it too looked like another entertaining sandbag. The holds appeared to be plentiful but the climbing looked quite steep, and not just at the namesake overhang(s).





(Photo: Pitch two of Easy Overhang.)



Margaret set off and made quick work of it. As I followed her, enjoying the moves, I tried to imagine Hans Kraus leading it in mountain boots in 1941 (or perhaps sneakers, as he wore for the first ascent of the crux pitch of High Exposure that same year). It wasn't easy to envision. I tried to picture what this cliff was like without the lines already drawn in. I attempted to see this hunk of rock as a blank slate, as Kraus saw it; to find the line without outside influence, as he had found it. And it was hard for me to imagine that a person could look at this particular line and think it would be easily climbed with the tools of his day: clunky boots, a few pitons, hemp ropes. I resolved to try it one day-- not with hemp ropes or pitons, but maybe in mountain boots, as one internet climbing forum participant proposed somewhere a few months ago. Easy Overhang seems like the perfect climb for it. The going is steep in places, but rests are plentiful and there are great edges for stiff soles; no need for smearing. I think primitive footwear would work well, and that leading Easy Overhang in them would scare the crap out of me, in a good, safe way.



After we were done with Easy Overhang it was my turn to lead something. I couldn't resist hopping on Son of Easy O (5.8). I led it two years ago, just a few days before I broke my ankle. When I looked back on it I remembered the thin face climbing on pitch one as rather tough going, and the pitch two overhang as a surprisingly easy pleasure.



I was eager to get back on it because I've been feeling so good on the 5.8 climbs lately. I wanted to see if pitch one would seem easier this time around. I also wanted to check it out again because a few weeks ago in this space I declared Birdland to be perhaps the best 5.8 in the Gunks, and the reason I qualified my praise with that word "perhaps" was that I thought possibly Son of Easy O deserved the honor instead.



Well, pitch one was still tense the second time around. Maybe the heat was a factor. Maybe my performance was also affected by the fact that the party before us elected to rap from the pins near the top (this requires two ropes or a 70 meter single) and dropped their rope on me while I was negotiating the crux. (They were actually nice guys; they realized this was an error and then waited until I said it was okay before they dropped the other end.) Whatever the reason, I thought this was one of the hardest, and best, 5.8 pitches I've done at the Gunks. It just doesn't stop coming. It is steep for 15 or 20 feet, with thin moves past the pin and the little left-facing corner. Then the angle eases but the thin moves continue. You are over your feet so you don't pump out, but there isn't much in the way of a rest stance until you are practically at the ledge. It's just one thoughtful move after another, with great, abundant pro, the whole way. So good.



I wonder if this pitch feels harder than it used to because it is so popular. The route is polished, so much so that you can pick out the line from the carriage road by the streak of polish going up the wall.



I know it is fashionable these days to combine pitches one and two but it was so hot out I thought it might be nice to take a break between the pitches. I also wanted to experience the traverse over to the overhang at the start of pitch two again, and this traverse is skipped when the pitches are combined. So I angled up left at the ledge and belayed at the traditional spot at the end of pitch one. After Margaret arrived at the belay ledge (remarking as she finished climbing that she couldn't believe pitch one was only a 5.8) I set off on pitch two.





(Photo: In the thick of pitch two of Son of Easy O (5.8).)



Again my impressions of two years ago were more or less confirmed. After a slightly dicey step into the traverse, which requires a move or two before you can get good pro in, the pitch is steep, with great holds and gear as you move up into the overhanging corner. Then it is over before you know it. I made the traversing moves, thinking things were getting pumpy in a hurry. Then I stepped up to the pin, telling myself I'd better keep it moving. I placed a dynamite back-up cam to the right of the pin. I moved up and placed another cam in a horizontal. I thought about whether it was worth the energy I would have to expend to improve this last placement... and then I looked to the right and realized the hard stuff was already done. One step around the corner to the right and the pitch was in the bag.



Having done both pitches of Son of Easy O again I have to say it is a close call, but I don't think it is the best overall 5.8 in the Gunks. If the second pitch were just a bit longer it might get the nod. The first pitch is amazing, the second is only very good. In addition, the climb is a victim of its own popularity; it is getting quite polished on the first pitch. Regardless of these small caveats, it is certainly still among the best 5.8s, and it deserves of every one of its three stars.



But Birdland remains the champ as far as I'm concerned.

Stem Dieback on 'Sky Pencil' Holly

When a plant in the garden starts to lose leaves and look bad, the first instinct is to water it more or fertilize it- and that may be all it needs to thrive.

But before you make a change, get closer and check out your plant for insects, disease or other problems.

When I first saw this plant, I thought that it probably was not getting enough water. It's the middle of summer, and there is not a lot of room for the roots to find water between the bricks and the wall.

But when I looked at the dead stems, I saw that they were bumpy instead of smooth like they should have been. The holly was infested with a type of scale insect. I call them "false bark scales" because they are the same color as the bark and blend in very well.

If you scrape your nail over the bark, these immobile insects will come off.

Insecticides are not useful for treating bark scales- they just won't work. The best thing to do is prune off all of dead and dying stems (removing the insects). If there are a few more on the healthy parts of the plant, just scrape them off. When the weather is cool, coat the leaves with a horticultural-grade oil to smother any that you missed.

A Look at Rivet Saddles

When I last corresponded with Debra Banks, she was off to ride the Texas Rando Stampede 1200 - a 750 mile brevet that she would go on to complete in 85 hours. Naturally Deb did this on a Rivet: a waterproof, slotted leather saddle of her own design.




While Rivet saddles are fairly new to the scene, Deb's experience in the industry goes back to her time at Selle Anatomica. In her own words:

Tom Milton, the founder of Selle An-Atomica was my sweetie and after his untimely death, I ran SAA for a year while his estate was being settled. His family took over the company and I ventured out on my own to form Rivet Cycle Works.

At the moment, Rivet offers three basic models of saddles in different widths. Each is available in a range of colours, and with a choice of cro-moly or titanium rails. We discussed my trying one for review and settled on the Pearl.






Named after Pearl Pass in the Rocky Mountains, the Rivet Pearl saddle was optimised for long distance comfort and support. As Debra explains, this does not mean these saddles are solely for long distance riders. Rather, if a cyclist experiences saddle discomfort when attempting longer rides, it was designed with addressing this in mind. The Pearl model features bag loops for attaching a full sized saddlebag.






Measuring 170mm at the rear, the width of the Pearl is equivalent to that of Selle Anatomica saddles. However, the shape and structure are quite different. In fact, while Rivet saddles may invite comparisons to Selle Anatomica because of the shared history, I find them to have more differences than similarities. The list of similarities is short: Both are slotted, and both are made of waterproofed leather in largely the same range of colours. However, the form and feel have little in common.






The first thing I noticed about the Pearl before fitting it on my bike was how tall it was. The height, or depth of a saddle is not a spec that all manufacturerslist, but it matters. While the Pearl's leather upper is in itself shallow, the rails are pretty deep. Installing it in place of my Berthoud Touring saddle, my seatpost had to be lowered almost a full cm to compensate. Selle Anatomica saddles are even shallower than Berthoud, so the difference there would be greater still. I am not comfortable providing exact figures, because height is difficult to measure and I don't want to misinform. But basically it's Selle Anatomica < Berthoud Touring < Rivet Pearl, with just under 1cm of difference in height between each.






It occurs to me that the purpose of the deep rail design on the Pearl might be to avoid any chance of the leather hitting the rails should it stretch over time. There is certainly no danger of that.The wrap-around tab on the underside further reduces tension loss.






According to Debra, Rivet saddles can take about 300 miles to break in, during which time they may also stretch. The tension screw should be used to regulate tension - not just in the event of stretching, but also to find the tension that works best for the rider's anatomy.






The purpose of the slot on Rivet saddles is "to relieve pressure and help to re-distribute pressure to other areas, depending on how the rider sits on the saddle." The Rivet slot is a bit longer than the slot on the Brooks Imperial line of saddles, and considerably shorter than Selle Anatomica's.






The edges of the Pearl's sitting surface are crisply delineated, rather than rounded, which gives it a sculptural look. The "R"-embossed rivets add textural interest. The Burgundy colour, pictured here, is a deep brown with a magenta tint (and, from what I can tell, identical to Selle Anatomica's Mahogany).






For waterproofing, a chemical agent is mixed into the tanning process (a different process than what is used for vegetable tanned leather). To increase firmness and minimise sagging, a second layer of leather is laminated to the upper piece. The leather for Rivet is sourced from Wisconsin, then sent to Taiwan, where the saddles are made by a master craftsman. Rails and other frame parts are sourced from Taiwan. The saddles are assembled there and then shipped worldwide.








With the demo Pearl on my roadbike, I rode around the neighbourhood and determined that the standard (highest) tension felt pretty good. The rear felt just about right at my sitbones. The transition from rear to nose felt just a tad wider than what I normally ride. With this initial assessment I felt comfortable enough to try a long ride.




I tested the Pearl on an informal 100K. Including my ride to and from, it was an 87 mile day in the saddle. For me, the Pearl out of the box did not require a break-in period. I experienced no soreness over the course of this distance. The leather felt quite stiff, but suppler than my hard-as-a-rock Berthoud. Compared to a Selle Anatomica, the "hammocking" action was subtle, and I could not discern independent movement between the two sides separated by the slot.The curvature and surface of the Pearl's rear felt very comfortable as the miles rolled on. Once in a while I could feel the ridges of the slot toward the front. It was not enough to cause chafing in the course of the distance I did, but I wanted to note that I could feel them. What did cause chafing - and this started around mile 60 - were the sides of the saddle in that transitional part that tapers toward the nose. Given the location and nature of the chafing, this was not a breaking-in issue or a tension issue, but a structural issue - the Pearl model is slightly too wide for me in the rear-to-nose transition, which caused chafing to my inner thighs over time. Having received my feedback, Debra agrees with this diagnosis and suggests I try the narrower Independence model to compare.






As we all know, preferences in saddle shape, size and feel are highly personal. It is always good to have options and variety. Designed by an experienced randonneuse, the saddles from Rivet Cycle Works are a welcome addition to Brooks, Berthoud and Selle Anatomica. The Pearl model is priced at $150 with cro-moly rails and $250 with titanium rails. In addition to saddles, Rivet also offers handlebar tape, mudflaps, and other goods. I wish Deb all the best with the business, as well as in her cycling adventures.

When a Bike Is Not for You, What to Do?

Regardless of how much time we put into looking for a new bike, how much research we do, how many reviews we read, and even how wonderful the bicycle seems during a test ride, sometimes it happens: We buy a bike that isn't right for us. Perhaps the handling ends up not being to our liking. Or perhaps the bike is too heavy, too aggressive, not aggressive enough... There can be so many reasons. And often, those reasons only become apparent after we get into the swing of using the bike.



And so there we are: As far as resale value goes, our new bicycle is now a used bicycle. And we feel excruciatingly guilty for having made the wrong choice.



Once we realise that the bicycle we so longed for is not all we had hoped, the question is: what to do next? We may try to deal with the situation by continuing to ride the bike even if we are not entirely happy with it, hoping that over time we'll get used to it. We might make modifications to the bike, in attempts to get it to handle how we want it to handle. Or we could admit defeat and sell it. Some of us tried the first two approaches, before ultimately deciding to sell. Others just cannot bear to sell the bike - either because of the monetary loss they will incur, or because of sentimental attachment.



It's a tough call which decision is best. It took me a while before I could bring myself to sell my Pashley, while an acquaintance sold her Batavus just a month after buying it. "Mama Vee" of Suburban Bike Mama has been struggling with her Sorte Jernhest cargo trike for nearly two years now and is still torn over what to do (in fact, she has just issued an exasperated plea for help, so perhaps someone can advise her!).



Not counting myself, I know of about half a dozen ladies in the blogosphere who either have recently sold, or are considering selling the bicycle that was supposed to be their "dream bike." We did everything right and the bike seemed like the perfect choice at the time. And yet it wasn't. If you've ever been in this situation, how did you deal with it and what was your ultimate decision?

A month of records: Liam O'Sullivan claims new speed record

Less than a month after Justin Merle broke the speed summit record of Mount Rainier from Paradise to Columbia Crest and back, Liam O'Sullivan, a mountain guide employed by International Mountain Guides (IMG), raised the bar once again, beating Merle's time by 3 minutes with a new record of 4 hours, 46 minutes and 29 seconds (FYI: Both Merle and O'Sullivan had small amounts of supplies cached at Camp Muir and dropped crampons on the descent). O'Sullivan left the upper Paradise parking lot at 4:20:08 a.m. and arrived at Camp Muir 1 hr 24 minutes later, putting him well on the way to a new record. O'Sullivan then beat his own personal time to Columbia Crest by 5 minutes, with a one way time of 3:11:22. On a previous attempt this month, O'Sullivan had been on pace to beat the record, but then faced fierce cramps on the descent which prevented him from setting a new record. This was almost the case again, but he was able to pull through this time.

"Any long or awkward step (which the Cleaver has plenty of by now) would cause me to cramp, so I descended cautiously to Muir, by which time I had lost all but 1 minute of the lead I had gained on Justin Merle's pace. I descended the (unfortunately) still firm Muir Snowfield, reaching Pebble neck-and-neck with Justin's time. Then battling the rocky, stepped trail, I commenced. Below Glacier Vista I kicked, breaking away from the pace, opted for the more direct east side of Alta Vista (complete with skin-shredding steep asphalt descent), and reached the trailhead in 4:46:29!"

Climbing conditions on Disappoinment Cleaver (DC) are some of the best conditions seen in years, which could account for the recent trend of speed ascents this month, including record attempts by O'Sullivan and Alpine Ascents International (AAI) Guide Michael Horst, and an amazing combination bicycle ride and speed ascent by Randall Nordfors. Despite the phenomenal conditions on the DC all summer, the season is moving along and things are beginning to break up, so future speed ascent attempts may be more difficult due to less direct route and slower climbing conditions. However, this may not stop would-be record breakers like Lhakpa Gelu Sherpa, a guide with Alpine Ascents International (AAI) and previous Everest record holder. Check out a recent article by The Seattle Times, covering this new competition for the "Rainier Speed Summit".

In addition to his record breaking climb, O'Sullivan has had a pretty good month - he made his 100th summit of Rainier on a tough Kautz route in less than ideal conditions, he guided Nordfors' Puget Sound to Summit trip and now begins a new path: medical school. After 10 years of mountain guiding on Mount Rainier and around the globe, we wish Liam the best and look forward to hearing more great things from him in the future.