I am working on a step-through bicycle frame - a design which is simultaneously common and unusual. It is common if you look around the streets of Boston, which are teeming with vintage step-throughs. And it is unusual considering that no one I know has built this exact style of frame. Mixtes and modified step-throughs yes. But not plain step-throughs where the top and down tubes are parallel. In fact, this bicycle does not even have what can be called a main triangle. It is a main parallelogram.
The head tube and the seat tube are also parallel lines - each at a 72° angle. This double set of parallels makes for an interesting visual pattern.
For this frame I used straight gauge tubing, so that I could practice cutting and brazing unsupervised without worrying about butting and thin walls. The hardy tubing should also minimise flex and twist in the step-through design, as well as make it possible to store the finished machine outdoors and generally treat it as a beater bike.
The joints will be fillet brazed (lugless) - partly because I would like to practice fillet brazing, and partly because there isn't currently a reliable source for a step-through lugset. Fillet brazing requires using brass as the filler material and heating up the joints considerably more than you would with lugged silver brazing. Since I am using straight gauge tubing, this should not be a problem. The only thing I am a little nervous about is the bottom bracket. With a lugged bottom bracket, the tubes are inserted into hollow sleeves, allowing you to look inside after brazing and check whether the filler material has pulled through properly. With a plain shell like the one pictured here, this cannot be done. I've considered using a lugged bottom bracket while fillet brazing the rest of the joints, but ultimately decided against that. I'll just have to be especially diligent in this area.
My goal in making this frame was to get some practice with basic technique without having to worry about thin wall tubing, unusually wide tires or multitudes of braze-ons. However, it was also crucial to me that I ride the finished bike as much as possible as part of everyday life, and I knew that would not happen with a plain diamond frame. The resulting compromise was a single speed 26" wheel step-through with a raked-out fork. Basically very similar to the prototypical English "Sports Roadster," but with lower trail.
Getting the slanted top tube was in a sense straightforward, but not without its quirks. To start with I specced out the slope to match the angle of the downtube. Funny thing though: When the angles were mathematically identical they looked off to the human eye (several spectators confirmed this), so in fact the tubes had to be not quite parallel in order for them look right. Paul Carson taught me how to use his notching lathe, and none of the notches were problematic except for the top head joint. That one had to be adjusted repeatedly to make the angle look right - but finally it got there.
As the mocked up tubes are starting to look bike-like, those who see the beginnings of this frame tend to have an "Aha, I know what kind of bike this is!" type of reaction. It's been nice to get that feedback. While the first frame I made was done in the privacy of a teacher-student environment, now I am working in a shared shop space with loads of people around. Random people passing through will ask what I am working on, and repeatedly I find myself articulating not just the concept of the frame but the step-by-step process of building it. No doubt this recital helps me make more sense of the process myself.
pearheaded the first major climbing permit fee increase in over 10 years, and has set a vision for the program which will provide for an even more effective operation that works safely and efficiently doing the amazing things that the climbing rangers do. In addition, he worked with park staff to envision and implement a webcam for Camp Muir and established network connectivity for the Camp. These items will increase the safety for visitors going up to Camp Muir, and enables supervisory staff to spend more time on the mountain than at their computers in Longmire. Congratulations, Stefan! - Chuck Young, Chief Ranger, Mount Rainier National Park
Outside my apartment in Fort Wayne. Summer of 1985. Bicycle in the stair well.
Last week, I revisited Camp Muir for the first time in three months. Things there seemed as normal as ever when it comes to spring access... However, things will be different this summer with the new guide services on the mountain. The most notable change will be that the NPS ranger station is moving to the Cook Shack (which is much more centrally located in camp). Also worth noting are the changes to what guide service will be operating out of what facility... AND that there will be a few new weatherports at Camp Muir... When the dust settles on the plan, I'll post more information. In the meantime, t
No, it's not my birthday. So why am I posting this now and what does it have to do with Georgia, you ask?
I was awestruck by its size and intensity of color, and we were still well over a mile away!
A zoomed-in view of Sawyer Glacier.
As we moved in closer we began to realize just how big this thing was. And we were all amazed by the amount of ice floating in the water.
A close-up of a portion of the face of the glacier. Note that the upper portion, or second tier level, is now hidden from our view.
Of course, calving was what everyone wanted to see - and hear! Me too!
But I was also enthralled by all of the ice that completely surrounded the boat. The ice was constantly on the move. Every time there was an event there was also a surge in the movement of the ice. When all was quiet you could hear the ice moving – each piece scraping against the other and making a crackling, tinkling sound.
It wasn't a solid mass of ice but was made up of pieces of all different sizes.
When we first came into view of the glacier, Steve had told us to look for the seals laying on the ice. He had been in contact with two Rangers who were perched on the side of a cliff to the right of the glacier. Their task was to count the seals and at the time we arrived they had tallied more than 1,000 of them! They were everywhere, generally close to the perimeter of the cove.
There wasn't a lot of movement on their part. One would occasionally lift up its head and look around but mostly they were just taking it easy.
The seals didn't seem to be bothered one bit when ice fell off of the glacier. They just rolled with the flow.
There was quite a bit of activity with the glacier. This was a fairly large event. You can see ice still cascading down while the spray from the big chunk that fell flies up in the air. We stayed at Sawyer Glacier for nearly two hours and by the end of that time, I was freezing! But I would have stayed longer if I could. It was impressive, exciting, exhilarating. Quite simply, fantastic!
Before we left, however, Captain Steve noticed a seal not too far away and maneuvered the boat closer to it. The seal lifted its head and looked at us. It made no attempt to leave its apparently comfortable perch on that bit of ice.
And with that sweet look, we departed Sawyer Glacier, exuberant and more than satisfied with the experiences of the day. But wait! There's more...
In this shot you can see the logs that were part of the log cabin and an old rusted out Model T truck that was near the cabin.
This was my best photo actually looking down at Albuquerque, NM from Sandia Crest. It was hazey this day, on better days you can actually make out buildings and streets in Albuquerque, and with field glasses you can see my house way, way west, almost 100 miles west of the mountains.
We found this little creek with lots of water in it. In another couple of months it will be all gone and nothing but a dry creek bed.