Adventure Medical Kits
September 30, 2010
This year’s care package from AMK was the most fun ever. You see, I am one of those disaster nerds who imagines the worst case scenario at any and all times. I count the rows as I walk onto an airplane and look for alternate exits from nightclubs in case of a stampede. I can’t enjoy a baseball game because I’m obsessing over how 30,000 people will evacuate the stadium in an orderly and safe fashion. My car came with an integrated first aid kit but I still carry one or two extras at all times. If it’s medical and you need it, chances are I have it. Or so I thought, until I opened the package from AMK and saw all the things I had been missing all these years.
First up is the Suture/Syringe Medic Kit. This kit is allegedly intended for the user to hand to a doctor or medical professional if the user is hurt while traveling. This ensures that the stitching material used will be sterile and safe. Come on now. Is there any intrepid soul who has the forethought and need to carry such a thing who wouldn’t, upon sustaining a stitchable wound, immediately produce this suture kit in glee and try it themselves, thrilled with the chance to utilize the item that they a) had the smarts to bring along and b) had, at all, in the first place. Such people do not like to lug around unnecessary stuff so I would imagine there are people who would make damn sure that if they brought this thing they would use it. In the words of one of my intrepid world traveler friends, “if you come home with it in your pack you don’t need to carry it.”
Second is the very clever Ultralight Airtight Medical Kit. This is designed to carry in your backpack when you go mountain biking, running, or fastpacking. It is sealed in a – wait for it – waterproof pouch so that nothing gets wet, a great idea. It’s got just enough stuff to clean and bandage one wound, so it’s not meant for mega trips. It’s still a great little item to grab-and-go; it’s small, light, and well-equipped.
The QuickClot series is another great item. I’ve seen many variations of this in my adventures as an emergency medical responder type person, but this is the first I’ve seen that is commercially available. The QuickClot is a serious thing, meant to stop traumatic, life-threatening bleeding. We are talking things like gunshot wounds here. I have a student who could have used this last year when he sustained a ski cut that he described thusly: “I could have fit a football in it.” I saw the bloody aftermath in the aid room and I don’t think he’s exaggerating. My point is that even if you’re not readily exposed to gunshot wounds, there are outdoors activities that could seriously wound a person in a way in which one might least expect. QuickClot is designed to accelerate the blood clotting process and could very well save a life in the backcountry.
Adventure Medical Kits is big on kits (who’da thunk?) so naturally we have the Trauma Pak. It contains a QuickClot package and various bandages and dressings to hold it in place including – this made my Alaskan ears perk up – duct tape. Trust AMK to know that you really can’t substitute anything for duct tape. The kit also contains a plastic bag that can be used to address sucking chest wounds. I find the inclusion of the antiseptic wipe kind of funny; if you need a QuickClot to stop bleeding or have to deal with a sucking chest wound, an antiseptic wipe seems kind of inadequate. But it’s probably a good thing to include…I guess? What I’m saying is, be sure to wipe off the sucking chest wound before you slap some plastic on it.
I don’t know about you, but I was sure to spend almost my entire summer in the dentist’s chair. This had me thinking about teeth quite a bit. So it was just apropos when I saw the Dental Medic kit at the AMK booth at Outdoor Retailer in Salt Lake City. I’m sure Simon has not seen that many women squeal over a dental kit. What could he do but drop one in my swag bag? What can I say, I like a good Dental Medic kit more than I like, I don’t know, whatever girly swag they hand out at Sundance. Louis Vuitton keychains, maybe? Hey, did you know that those little keychains seriously cost $800 or more? Crazy. That’s the entire amount I spent on three crowns, two fillings, a cleaning and a set of X-rays this summer. Can you tell I haven’t had dental insurance in a while? My teeth are good though, and I mostly go to the dentist to hear her harp on me about how my teeth are so good. She shakes her head, clucks her tongue, and says “wear your seatbelt.” Which I always do, because I’m vain about my good teeth. So. I was happy to see the Dental Medic kit. It contains temporary cavity filler, pain killing gel, gauze, floss, dental wax, and a tea bag. The tea bag is for pain in case you don’t know. This kit could really come in handy. I was on a three day kayak trip with a friend who broke his temporary crown less than 45 minutes after the water taxi dropped us in the middle of nowhere. Ain’t that always the way.
Simon also restocked me with old favorites like Fresh Bath Travel Wipes (what are you saying, Simon?), Naturapel bug dope, After Bite bug bite soother, hand sanitizer, and Women’s Outdoor Medical Kits. I love going to see Simon. Especially because now that I know him well enough that we can talk about product while we go to get coffee or, this year, mimosas from the booth giving them out. Don’t worry, Simon’s boss, he didn’t drink on the job – he got coffee. For the record I had a mimosa and I regretted it. I just don’t have the alcohol tolerance to make it in the outdoor industry. But I do have the medical smarts to be useful in the backcountry, and thanks to AMK, I have all the gear too. So you better be nice to me when I overdo the boxed wine over the campfire; I have been known to withhold the bug dope when feeling passive-aggressive.
The Canyons Grand Summit Lodge
September 28, 2010
The Canyons put us up at their Grand Summit Lodge for part of our stay in Park City. This is the second time I’ve stayed at the Grand Summit and the accommodations are never less than outstanding. It’s a beautiful property snugged up against the mountain, with a gondola departing from practically the back door. Access to trails is immediate (usually – but we stayed during a period of construction in which the entire hotel was surrounded by fences, cutting off access to the trails that are literally right outside the hotel).
I’ve stayed in both a two bedroom suite and a one bedroom suite. There is plenty of room in the one-bedroom suite for several friends or a couple, with a king bed, a pull out couch, and a window seat that doubles as a roomy single bed. There’s also a weird kind of pointless little balcony that is mostly blocked by the blinds, but you can go outside if you want to. The two-bedroom suites are HUGE. They seem like their own building, really. They are two stories with master bedrooms nicely far apart, easy for two couples to comfortably share a suite. The two-bedroom units even have a washer and dryer. They all have nice fireplaces and furniture and lots of room. There is not a ton of storage, and like all hotels, the storage that is there really needs to have more clothes hangers in it. The kitchen – way too big and well apportioned to be trivialized with “-ette” – was a prime feature for us, allowing us to make most of our own meals, which we like. We really can eat a prodigious amount of food so it’s nice to keep the conveyor belt rolling without having to bother with restaurants.
We did take the time to check out Cabin, though, one of the on-site restaurants. I had the pan-fried trout, which, thankfully, was not served in whole-trout form (I’ve had that happen – ugh) but instead was beautifully presented with a tasty sauce and well-paired sides. On another visit we were post-mountain-bike-ride (again) and we opted for cheeseburgers. When asked what kind of cheese we wanted, we said “all of it,” making our waiter laugh. He was wise enough to know we weren’t kidding, though, and brought us cheeseburgers with all possible cheeses, which we appreciated. The burgers were very tasty and not a fry remained when we were done hoovering. I believe – you may not want to quote me on this – that Cabin provides the room service food, as well, which is pretty damn good, at least for breakfast, which is mostly what we used room service for.
Speaking of breakfast, I was so charmed by the fellow who took my order – I told him I wanted coffee, then called back five minutes later to upgrade to a large size carafe, but he was way ahead of me and had ordered TWO large size carafes. It must have been something in my voice. And speaking of charming people, they abound at the Canyons. From the front desk to the cleaning service, every employee of the Grand Summit is charming and helpful. The valets were usually pretty snap-to with our stored bikes, though one got a little shirty while we were loading the car when a tour bus was coming in. Though when the bus arrived, it was empty, so I’m not sure what the hurry was. That was the only time anyone’s nice cracked though, and we weathered some tricky scenarios – a drunk wedding party trying to get their cars to drive home, a poorly timed power outage, lots of construction, and a kind of testy security guard. Someone didn’t program that security guard with the Canyons Nice Chip, but it didn’t bother us too much.
What DID bother us really isn’t the fault of the Canyons. We really wanted to check out the super luxe pool area right outside the spa, but during the entire four days of our visit, there was not one single second during which the pool area was not jammed full of screaming, running, splashing, shrieking children. And I mean screaming and shrieking. It’s pretty jarring to one’s sense of serenity and as a happily childless person it would be nice if parents would realize that the pool is not a babysitter. That’s that the giant flat screen in your hotel room is for!
I suppose there’s not much a hotel can do about that type of ambiance-stripping behavior, but I think I speak for lots of people when I say that I wish I could google “adult vacation” without getting, well, not the kind of search results I’m looking for. We even headed over to the Canyons’ Escala Lodge to see if that would have been the better choice for a little relaxing pool time, but no – same scene over there, only this time there was even a naked kid. Not sticking around to see what’s floating in THAT pool…
So if you have kids you’ll love the Grand Summit, if you don’t, you’ll love the Grand Summit as long as you stay away from the pool. It would be so awesome if resort hotels like this had a kiddie friendly pool and an adult pool – on opposite sides of the hotel. That seems to be the solution as far as I can tell.
The other problem you’ll run into at the Grand Summit (and any of the properties in that area, actually) is that there is no way to get food unless the on-site restaurants happen to be open. Make sure to stock your suite’s kitchen because the restaurants close early; maybe a Utah church-controlled liquor law thing? I’m not sure, but if you’re not prepared, it is a very unpleasant surprise. There is no nightlife or nightfood, even, to be had at or near the Canyons. If you have a car you can drive 15 minutes into Park City proper; if you don’t have a car you can walk down to the minimart at the corner and see what they have there, but neither are good options if you want food or drinks like NOW. Make sure the grocery store and liquor store are on your itinerary before you get to the Canyons and you’ll be happier. It’s really a resort designed to get away from stuff like that, but I think to many guests it’s not clear that they should bring their own food and drinks for after hours.
I’m going to spare you my boring pictures of the property because you can just go here to the Canyons web site and see tons more pics.
Park City Mountain Biking
September 27, 2010
We really had to do some soul searching on this trip. We had nine days in Park City, and we wanted to spend every possible second we could on bikes. It was evident really quickly that we were going to be unable to ride even a tiny fraction of the trails available to us. I mean, I knew there was some biking in Park City, but until I got a gander at the sheer immensity of the local trail map, I really didn’t “get it”. Trails everywhere. Hundreds of miles of them. Trail system to the north, west, south, east…everywhere.
Singletrack!
There was only one trail that was a must-ride for me. I told my companions that under no circumstances would I miss riding the Crest Trail. It was my goal, my raison d’etre for the trip, and I could be laissez-faire about anything but that. The Crest Trail runs at 9,000-10,000 feet along the highest ridge to the east of Park City. With this in mind, we opted to take a few days of acclimatization.
For the first few days of our stay, were were staying at the Grand Summit Lodge at the Canyons, and since there was a trail coming out right by the hotel, that seemed as good a place to start as any. Most of the other riders were taking the lift up, but we observed a few other hardy souls taking the trip from the bottom, and our Alaska-hardened legs did not quail at the idea of some climbing, so we ground up Holly’s Trail to connect with the Mid-Mountain Trail. The climb was long, that’s for sure – but the trails were outstanding. Holly’s is more of a downhill-oriented trail, but if you’re tough, it’s climbable. But the real treat was the Mid-Mountain Trail – we connected to it at the Red Pine Lodge and did essentially an out-and-back to the north end, which seems to end the trail at some housing development that has posted signs stating there is no access from that part of the trail. Seemed NIMBY-ish, to say the least, but as guests of the Canyons we decided to be good and respect the signs.
Riding back along the same trail was no hardship – the pure singletrack was awesome. Nice and flowy, with great views and lots of enjoyable ripping downhills through the aspens. On the way down we opted against heading back down Holly’s and checked out more trails: Rob’s, Ambush, and Rosebud’s Heave, only to find more of the same sweet, fun, fast singletrack at every turn. We even encountered the trail building machine, building even MORE trails! Outstanding!
Doubletrack!
All week long, the singletrack beckoned and we were never disappointed. After our first day of mega-climbing, we wised up and took the lifts a few times, which, while a tad alien to us, was pretty nice I must admit. Missing the first hour of climbing was really not an issue when you have hundreds of miles of trails at your feet to get your workout. The views were just nonstop and the Park City summer weather was perfect. I could not have asked for more. We went on many bike adventures, comprised of singletrack, doubletrack, gravel roads, paved roads, paved trails, more singletrack, lots and lots more singletrack, so much singletrack our shoulders gave out from trying to shake sticks at all of it. If anyone gets that joke, you’re my favorite reader.
Gravel roads! Any kind of riding you would want.
The Mid Mountain trail, approximately 30 miles long, is a real gem of the region. It follows the 8,000-foot contour of the mountains from Deer Valley all the way almost to the Interstate (before which you’ll be turned around by the NIMBY signs), giving a lovely wilderness feel while leaving access to plenty of bailout routes for the wussified among you. You can even stop at a few of the lodges for lunch, bathroom breaks, water refills, and refreshments of course.
Occasionally we made a bad route choice. In our defense, the trail map does not have topo lines.
Leaving from Deer Valley, the first 15 miles of the Mid Mountain trail are gentle, super smooth, easy singletrack. This is a very popular section of trail and it’s easy to see why, as it’s just ideal for putting in the miles. No big climbs, no difficult obstacles, just lovely forest, beautiful singletrack, and nice views. The only disclaimer is that this is a POPULAR trail – both for hikers and bikers. We overheard a fair number of people bitching about how crowded the trail was. I didn’t think it was really all that bad, so those people must have been seriously spoiled. Still, it was a weekend, so there was a little give-and-take and certainly a steady stream of users on the trail. We were fine with it, but be warned – if you can’t handle sharing your trail, don’t even bother with this one. You’ll just pout and whine all day and no one likes that.
We had planned to buzz across to the Red Pine Lodge, get lunch, then head up to the Crest Trail. What we didn’t plan on, though, is the massive reroute of the Mid Mountain Trail which we’d heard about but didn’t appreciate until we found ourselves grinding up fifteen huge switchbacks across a rugged rock garden. One of our party was a new biker and had not ridden in about five years, so this really slowed us down. The crowds thinned out quite dramatically at this point, in large part because of the fact that this part of the trail was uphill. Ha! Iron legs will prevail! The few parties we did run into had some choice words for the reroute and I must admit it was not an easy trail at that point. But we got through it, and dropped back down to the original Mid Mountain route and enjoyed some chow at the Red Pine.
As we sat on the deck, enjoying our snack and gazing up – way up – at the 9,990 Lift, which marked our connection to the Crest Trail, we also found ourselves gazing up at some big, dark, scary looking clouds. We had lost some time battling the many, many steep switchbacks and climbs on the reroute, and we had an event that evening to attend. We discussed it and reluctantly concluded that the Crest Trail was not in the cards that day. Which meant it was not in the cards for this trip. I am trying to be philosophic about this, even now, but I readily admit that I am BUMMED to not have gotten to a) ride the trail and b) complete our 40 mile epic.
This is why I wanted to ride the Crest trail.
SO: make sure to inspect your rental helmets, if you use them. Better yet just bring your own. It’s your noggin, you need to know that it is properly protected. Now, to plan my return – after all, I still have to ride the Crest Trail….
Singletrack and views! All day long.
SkirtSports Gym Girl Ultra Skirt
September 24, 2010
Yes, that is an exclamation point you see in the title. How can I call something “ultra skirt” without an exclamation point?
And it does indeed deserve one, as this skirt is awesome. It arrived in the mail the day I had a run planned with some girlfriends, so naturally I had to give it a go. I had run into a woman running in a Gym Girl Ultra out on the trails a few months ago, and she told me that she’s never been able to go back to shorts. Therefore, I had high hopes for the Gym Girl and I was not disappointed. I loved running in it – so comfortable, with a great quick drying fabric that wicked sweat away and kept me looking fresh and sharp. There was really something fun about knowing that not only was I getting a great workout but I was also looking really cute while doing it.
The undershorts (“shorties” in Skirtsports parlance) hit me at about mid-thigh, enough to corral any bulginess while staying flattering and cool. The skirt itself hit a few inches above the knee and was a little longer in the back for an extra-flattering look. There is a slit on each side for ease of running, which also adds a cute bit of sassy flippiness. Best of all, the waist on the shorts is nice and low, just above the hipbones. It’s very comfortable and flattering, and helps keep you cool when you’re working hard. The shorties each had a little pocket on the outside of the leg to hold a car key or an mp3 player – and if it’s an mp3 player, there’s even a little grommet hole on the side of the skirt to properly route the headphones cord. Nicole DeBoom, founder of SkirtSports, thought of everything! And I had to find a way to get her into this review because is there a last name better than “DeBoom”? No! There’s not! It’s better than mine, even, and mine is pretty good too.
Sizing is slightly tricky and will depend on your preference. I am usually a size small but I found the small in the Gym Girl to be a little too clingy, so I opted for the medium, which is juuuuust ever so slightly too roomy, but it’s really probably only me that notices, and it’s better than worrying about panty lines. Oh! One other cool thing I noticed is that the shorties have a contrasting inner panel in the front so that it’s easy to tell whether you are putting your skirt on backwards. If you don’t understand why that is super useful, you probably don’t have enough going on in your life and can get dressed in luxurious leisure every day for every activity, and I don’t relate to you.
Sugoi Lucky Bike Shorts
September 24, 2010
OK, so I like to ride bikes. You get that by now, I know you do. If you’re a longtime reader, you also know that I don’t like to wear bike OUTFITS. I don’t really like shiny spandex, huge logos, and crazy colors. I always feel like a poser wearing stuff like that, and I don’t like doing free advertising for whatever company is on the loud, logo-ed jerseys and shorts.
I also do not like the sausage-casing look that bike clothes tend to lend. I’m fine with tight stuff but I don’t like bulges and lines on my legs from the grippy things on bike shorts. Those grippy things…sometimes I just don’t know. They ride up anyway, and if they don’t, they just pull on your legs leaving the aforementioned lines. Plus, they are not that comfortable.
So I was STOKED when I got these shorts from Sugoi. These shorts are AWESOME. They are soft and comfortable, well cut, and flattering. They don’t have tight grippy things or an annoying drawstring on the waist. They don’t pinch, squeeze, bind, or shift. I love them! The waistband is cut on a bias so that it’s low in front and high in back, you know, perfect for bike riding position. The legs are fairly short, just about in the middle of my hamstring, but that’s OK because they don’t squeeze and bind like other shorts. I find them a little short for mountain biking because when I stand up, the seat hits my leg just at the end of the shorts which, after a few hours, can get annoying. But in hot weather, the shorts are great because they don’t get that slimy spandex feeling when they get wet with sweat. They are even fairly quick drying though if you get one of the lighter colors you will find that you end up with some sweat marks in embarrassing places, though I can live with that because, hey, I’m riding a bike and sweat goes with the territory. As with all Geargals-approved bike shorts, they have a nicely padded chamois that is kind and gentle on your parts, which is vital because something has to make up for all that abuse heaped on us by those horrible bike seats.
All this adds up to a super comfortable, super flattering bike short with performance advantages to boot. Good luck finding some, because I’m buying them all up.
Oh no really, I am not a racer.
September 23, 2010
For a good while now my boyfriend has been badgering me about why I don’t race bikes, he being a completely obsessed race nerd and I being more on the explorer side of things despite my fitness and skill levels being race-quality (if I do say so myself). I even have to utilize threats to keep him from shaving his legs – I tell him that if he starts shaving, then I stop. So far this has resulted in an uneasy stalemate, but he’s still got his manly fuzz. And I – well, draw your own conclusions.
Anyway, the racing. I tried to explain to him that my competitive sports days are long over; my having dedicated the first quarter century (and more) of my life to pretty intense sports competition has made me lose taste for the whole thing. Or so I said.
Over the last two weeks we’ve done a road biking race and a team multi sport race. At one particularly intense moment in the multi sport race my other half observed “I notice you get a little competitive.”
Um. Yeah. And that’s why, for so long, I didn’t race. I didn’t need the increase in blood pressure. I saw no reason to torment myself with hard training, high hopes, disappointing results, hope-exceeding results and the accompanying must-repeat-performance-and-do-even-BETTER pressure.
But now the FLOODGATES ARE OPEN.
Haiku Bags
September 22, 2010
What I am about to tell you is completely true.
Many years ago I bought my dog a dog bed from Costco. It is this big round bed with a supporting bolster that goes halfway around. It looks like a doggie couch. It is made of this material that looks like leather and feels like leather, but isn’t. My dog LOVES this bed and uses it all the time. I even shipped it from Alaska to Vancouver BC so that my dog could have his bed while we were in Canada; he loves this bed that much. When he is tired, he climbs into the bed and scratches it like crazy, like he wants to dig through it. So he’s had this bed for about four years. Yet it still looks brand new. You would think I bought it yesterday. There are no scratch marks, no wear, no worn spots, nothing. This dog bed will live for eternity.
So it kind of blew my mind when I got these Haiku sample bags. I’ve seen them around and they are really swank looking. They looked like leather but I know they’re not, so I wasn’t sure what they were. On close inspection I found – they are made of the same fabric as my dog’s favorite bed!
Now, I have kept this revelation to myself until now. Even yesterday, when my fabulous hairdresser and even MORE fabulous eyebrow waxer were looking at the Zip Wallet Haiku sent, they were convinced it was leather. They loved the feel of the soft faux leather stuff. I did not tell them that it was the same stuff my dog’s bed is made out of. It would break their hearts, like it breaks people’s hearts when I tell them I use Pureology Nanoworks shampoo on my dog. What can I say, my dog deserves the best in life.
And so do I, which is why I’m stoked that I get to use these bags. They are sweet! I have the Zip Wallet and the To-Go bag. I am not a purse/handbag kind of girl so I was skeptical about both items, but the folks at Verde PR, who handle Haiku, convinced me to try the Zip Wallet instead of my usual credit-card-size billfold. I was skeptical because I like a lighter load, but I stand before you humbled, ready to admit that I was wrong. The Zip Wallet holds EVERYTHING, keeps it organized, and is easy to carry and stow. The zipper keeps things nice and safe and nothing ever falls out. I use it all the time now and I don’t even remotely miss my little billfold.
The To-Go Bag is a tad more for the heavier traveler. It’s the one I see all over the place, the one that carries your wallet, water bottle, cell phone – you name it, the To-Go Bag carries it. For a light mover like me, the To-Go Bag is adequate even for a full-day urban adventure, carrying a quick change of outfit (hey, some of today’s dresses are really compact!), my cell, Blackberry (shudder), a few snacks, and various other things I might need ahemlipglosscoughcough. For the girl not used to carrying a bag, this one is a pretty good introduction to handbag culture. It’s hip, gorgeous, useful, and best of all, tough. Believe me! Even the most rough and tumble outdoors type can’t mangle this bag. This is the one and only human product that has been dog tested here at Geargals – and it has SURVIVED. Not only survived, but thrived! OK, so I didn’t let Geardog sleep on my Haiku bags. But he has been sleeping on the Haiku bag material for years via his dog bed, and it’s completely unmarked. It never holds smells (once the cat even peed on the dog bed, but no stain and the smell washed right out), and it’s survived much more, and much worse, than I can ever put an actual Haiku bag through.
So if you live an active lifestyle but still like to carry stuff, look stylish, and carry a unique “it” bag without spending more than your skis are worth, have a gander at Haiku and shop to your heart’s content. But I’ve got my eye on that Courier Bag, so hands off, now!
I’m not at all sure what’s going on with the formatting of this post, but I think I’ll keep it for the dramatic effect and the nice juxtaposition between the “Haiku” bag name and the evocative-of-poetry first line of this review. -Ed.
Specialized Safire Bike
September 20, 2010
The Specialized Safire
The Background
I was lucky, I guess. My first “serious” bike shop – the one I bought my first high-end, full suspension MTB from – was a good one. I didn’t even really know that there was much of an issue with women and bike shops. After all, I had bought my bike from a shop that had always seemed to treat me fairly, kindly, and with respect. They had never talked down to me or ignored me or any of those things bike shops are known for. If I were not in possession of the direct-sales industry connections that I now benefit from, I would buy another bike from that shop and go well out of my way to do it. So I had a great experience and a good few years of happy go lucky cluelessness about the bike industry.
Since then I’ve learned that bike shops aren’t woman-friendly places for the most part. They don’t stock women’s gear, they don’t stock any women’s saddles but for the ubiquitous Terry butterfly, and if you’re female they will usually at best condescend to you, at worst ignore you, and usually try to rip you off for the cost of parts. I know what brake pads cost, bike shops, and it is NOT $60. So this unpleasant realization about bike shops kind of happened to coincide with the growth of Geargals, which meant that I was always swimming in demo gear and didn’t have to shop for stuff anyway. I also gained a bike wrench boyfriend, which solved the parts/labor overcharging problem (or did it? Hmmm). So, freed from the tedium of shopping, I stopped going to bike shops because I didn’t have to. I didn’t even think much about the whole thing except for once or twice when I had to shop for shorts.
Then one day I saw this article on bikehugger about women and bike shops, and its follow up articles. The accompanying comments made me, well, pissed off. A bunch of dudes basically saying there’s no problem and that if there is one it’s basically women’s fault. That type of thing makes me angry. You know, “Argh! Head Geargal Smash!” kind of angry. The dismissive “most bike shops can fit a small person” comment was the final straw. WOMEN ARE NOT JUST SMALL MEN. We ride differently, we have different centers of gravity, and different pressure point issues. Our hips are different, our legs are different, WE ARE DIFFERENT. Why didn’t anyone get it? Most men have no idea what it’s like to try to excel at a sport with equipment made just perfectly exactly not for their bodies. In bikes, women of my size aren’t even “caught” by the body weight curve that most shocks are optimized for. How can that not make a difference?
The crew over at Specialized were also affronted, and took the time to write a reply. For some reason, that reply didn’t garner nearly as much – or any, really – controversy. Like, zero comments after DOZENS of comments on the original article. Weird. But I was still interested that they were interested, and I proposed a special kind of bike test. Specialized has developed a “ground up” line of women’s bikes and I wanted to find out if it made that much of a difference. I proposed to ride the women’s bikes and then ride the comparable men’s model, and report on the difference. My idea was met with enthusiasm and I was invited to join the Specialized crew in Whistler for Crankworx, where I could try the bikes to my heart’s content.
The Test
Within ½ hour of my arrival in Whistler, I was met by Rachael Lambert from Specialized and checked into a hotel, my personal bike was stored, my car whisked away to a valet, and I was in my bike gear and ready to ride. I love these sorts of events because putting faces to the company image never fails to be an eye opener. All of a sudden the big corporate logo is a person or a group of people, smiling at me, talking to me, and going out for a beer with me, and Crankworx was no different. All of a sudden that big stylized “S” was a human, and she was ready to ride with me.
I was presented with a Specialized Safire bike, told we were headed off to ride with about five others: Rachael and Amy from Specialized, Tyler Maine and his wife Sara from pinkbike.com, and, confusingly enough, Rachael’s boyfriend Tyler. What are the odds of that? I don’t know about you, but meeting two people of the same name is more confusing to me than meeting two people of different names. If they have the same name I always think I’m forgetting something. But here I was, riding with two Tylers, feeling the pressure of remembering they were both named Tyler. I know, I have weird problems. The gist is, I was plonked onto the bike that had been quickly and efficiently fitted to me, and led down a path in the gorgeous Whistler weather.
Confession time: occasionally I have no idea what is going on around me. Sometimes I just don’t bother to get all the pertinent information and I just go with the flow, especially when traveling and, shamefully, even more especially when traveling for Geargals when others are making all the arrangements for me. As the boss lady of two companies I’m usually calling the shots; having someone else do it is the best vacation ever. So when Rachael said to Tyler “Do you want to go to cut your bars first?” I figured we had to go make some adjustments to Tyler’s bike and didn’t think much of it. It seemed like a weird and time consuming thing to have to do just after everyone had gotten ready to ride, but I was in travel mode and ready to accept whatever came my way. So off we went down a paved bike path, me imagining that we were going to stop at a bike shop to cut Tyler’s bars so that he would be better fitted to his bike. Then we swerved off onto rocky, rooty, technical singletrack. Strange, I thought to myself, to take this route to a bike shop, but flow-going as I was, just kept pedaling and enjoying the experience. After about 20 minutes we all stopped at an intersection to regroup and I saw the trail name on a placard: “Cut Yer Bars.” Oh.
You see, I wasn’t thinking much about what the plan was; for once others were at the helm so I could just think about the bike. I was riding a medium frame Safire, Specialized’s new five inch travel XC bike. It’s been a while (well, a few months at least; an ETERNITY for a gear tester) since I rode a new bike and I was very keen to finally feel the difference in a frame designed for women. Specialized has spent considerable engineering resources on developing and marketing a “ground-up” women’s bike; one that isn’t just a modified version of a men’s bike. This is the Safire, and there’s no “equivalent” men’s bike in the lineup. The Safire is the Safire and it stands on its own. Cool.
The first thing I noticed, and I mean the VERY FIRST thing, was that the suspension was quite frankly awesome. I really have a hard time tuning my suspension juuuuust right so I was elated to be bunny hopping around the parking lot with everything feeling perfect right out of the gate. chatted with Rachael about it, and she revealed that the shocks had been specially designed and tuned for the female rider. How is this different from the male rider, you might ask? Well, the average male rider is 180 lbs. All shocks have to perform with that weight as the most optimal; the middle of the bell curve so to speak. Well, I am 130 lbs. I am not even caught by the low end of the curve for a normal shock. I feel this, I really do. Suspensions are fussy for a rider without the oomph to compress them; they feel rigid and stiff, noncompliant and headstrong. I’m always fiddling with something, even on my personal bike which I consider to be one of the best on the market (which, full disclosure now, is not a Specialized. I had never ridden Specialized bikes until this trip). The Safire had a very welcoming suspension, one that worked the way it is supposed to. And I never really knew how it was supposed to work until riding the Safire. It really was just mind blowing.
With mind sufficiently blown, and bike budget also already blown for the year, I asked Rachael hopefully if I would be able to fit my personal bike with this miracle front fork and rear shock. Sadly, no; they were part of the Safire design and wouldn’t work with just any bike. Lesson one: ground-up really means ground-up. We set about touring around the Whistler singletrack. And this is when things started to get…less straightforward. The suspension kept performing perfectly. The rest of the bike was hit and miss. I didn’t fall in love immediately like so many others seem to have; that was apparent pretty quickly. My task, then, was to figure out why not.
As we made our way around Cut Yer Bars, I noticed that I couldn’t find a comfortable gear and I felt that my cadence was either way too high or I was pushing way too low of a gear; no middle ground. My legs felt like a hamster on a wheel. Finally a light went on and I figured out that the Safire was equipped with short 170cm cranks rather than the standard 175 cm cranks. Rachael told me that every component of the Safire is sized according to the frame size, so a size medium Safire (which is like a Small in a men’s frame) comes standard with 170cm cranks. Maybe many people wouldn’t have noticed, but I noticed. Why? Because I am pretty strong and use a lot of power and leverage as opposed to finesse. Now, I might get used to the smaller cranks if I use them for a while; they make sense. Or do they? What is so different about a 5’5” woman vs. a 5’5” man when it comes to cranks? Don’t women typically have longer legs and justify longer cranks? I mused whether it might not be a good idea for the bikes to be spec’ed according to the purchaser’s request. Would the average rider know the difference between cranks, or would he or she even know his or her preference? Would tons of dudes riding small frame bikes suddenly find epiphanic nirvana by trying smaller, more proportional cranks? No clue. I do have a clue, though, that if a bike manufacturer were to try it on dudes, the idea would be roundly rejected because dudes don’t like to face up to the fact that they are not all 6’2”. So, they tried it on the women’s line, instead. Perhaps women will be more open to that change. But it didn’t work for me; I like my longer cranks; but possibly only because I’m so used to them now.
So that’s one thing. On decently smooth singletrack and straightforward obstacles, the Safire was a star and I liked it. I couldn’t find anything I didn’t like about it until we rode a trail that seemed to mostly consist of rocks and ladders thrown together in a haphazard way (that’s Whistler XC for you). I could suddenly hardly ride anything. The front end of the Safire felt squirrely and rebellious, difficult to control and unpredictable. I started to struggle and wound up doing more walking than riding. After inexplicably stuffing the front wheel on nothing and performing a low-speed endo, I took the bailout route and headed back to the village, feeling dazed and wondering what had happened in the few short hours between leaving the parking lot on a tuned-suspension high and slinking home on a paved road on a bike that suddenly felt too small and toy-like. I longed for my beefy all-mountain rig, if only to save face and show my new companions that I wasn’t completely hopeless.
Thinking about it and still wincing from the ego blow, admittedly grasping for an excuse for my struggles, I noted the down-turned stem setup on the Safire and asked about it. My wounded pride was clamoring for attention so I don’t quite remember the answer about why it was set up that way, but I agreed to ride the bike again the next day with the stem reversed per my preference. I hoped for a different experience but didn’t feel hopeful that I would love the Safire any more, or any differently, than I already had experienced. The next day would tell.
In the meantime, I was lost in thought. What had I expected out of that first ride on the Safire? It’s hard to say. I live in a dream world of sports-related problems easily solvable by the best and newest gear solutions, so it’s tough for me to get out of that mindset when I dabble in the bike industry. Can a bike solve all my problems? When I was a beginner, yes, it could. Stepping up to a high end bike four years ago ramped up my riding like nothing else could. But now that I’ve been on a selection of high end bikes for a few years, the curve is much shallower. It’s down to personal preference and personal riding style, now, and I can’t expect a bike – any bike – to make a huge difference in my riding. It’s up to me to figure out what a bike is meant to do and evaluate how well it does it.
I retired to the social scene of Crankworx to visit with clients and to ruminate on the ride. I ended up spending the evening riding around aimlessly, jokingly, with a couple of long distance friends – rowdy, highly skilled freeriders. We rallied around the village, trying random stunts and goofing off, which, though fun, still had me mostly sulking to the side even on my dependable 6X6, too intimidated to ride even the skills park and too embarrassed to take a trip around the baby pump track. Maybe it was the difference in uniform: spandex-clad, clipped-in, cross-country me riding alongside armor-wearing, 9 inch travel bike riding, flat pedaled, full-face-helmeted them. Perhaps it had something to do with the constant cries of pain and emanating from my companions along with the accompanying broken bones (really!) and torn skin as they slid, fell, and scraped along the ladders and ramps, but nonetheless – I felt cowed after the ride on the Safire.
Was it the bike? Was it me? Was the women’s design not what I hoped? I’d no idea. All I could do was turn up the next day and ride bikes. So ride I did. Rachael had somehow found the time to swap the stem and have the bike ready and waiting the next morning, and off we went, just the two of us. A ways into the ride I confided that I was having trouble controlling the front end. It just would not stay grounded; it was maddening. I don’t mind a light front end but I couldn’t keep the wheel straight, either. Rachael immediately suggested dialing down the travel, which did help some. My all-or-nothing nature held me back from trusting the bike, though. On descents I squeaked in terror and unclipped when confronted by a ladder or switchback. I let Rachael drift ahead so she wouldn’t hear the telltale clip clop of my bike shoes on wood planks.
We chatted a bit about the bike setup and my thoughts about it. The bar was much, much skinnier than the one on my personal bike – I think probably six inches skinnier. That’s a big difference. Since I opt for speed and power as my weapons of choice while on a bike, it makes sense that I like the stability and more forgiving nature of a wider bar. It also stands to reason that after a season with a big bar, I wasn’t as tuned to the small controlled movements necessary to successfully run a narrower bar. Moving from a skinny bar to a wider bar is easy; going back is hard. No wonder I was afraid to try the ladders and skinnies; I couldn’t steer!
I had come to love and trust that dialed-for-me suspension, though, so I got cheap thrills out of drops and steep rolls. As long as it wasn’t life-threatening I could do it and did do it, all the while hoping that someone would see me unhesitatingly taking on steep inclines and rolling drops. The suspension never once let me down and I still think often about how specifically right it felt.
Next up I took out the closest comparable bike in the men’s/unisex lineup; the Camber. I am shamed to say that almost immediately I liked it better than the Safire. It felt taller, more stable, trustworthy, and repsonsive to pedal power. When in doubt, apply power and you will be saved: that is my motto. The Camber served me fairly well. No squirrelly diving around on this bike; I just felt better. It might really be because of the extra leverage afforded by the crank size I’m used to. It might have been the size of the frame fitting me a tad better, or the comforting wide bar on the Camber. It might have been just my confidence level – after taking a few hits on the Safire it was hard to trust it again, and easier to give a different bike a chance. Still, the suspension was a difference. It was good, on the Camber, but not as good as the Safire.
There’s nothing like riding a bike to assist with musing about bikes, so I jumped on an Era Comp Carbon and then an S-Works Epic 29er just to try that whole 29er thing. I rode the same trails I had ridden on the Safire and the Camber – but suddenly I was grinning ear to ear, zipping over obstacles without a second thought, and rolling over almost everything in my path. I admit I didn’t do the more ladder-intensive trails; I’ve had a few bad ladder experiences and when my confidence is shaken, I just avoid them. Off the ground = too high-consequence for someone whose mid-thirties body doesn’t rebound as well as it once did. Without the ladders in the picture, the Epic 29er was so much fun that I went around again, giggling the entire time. I rode the trail twice and reluctantly headed back only when I thought I’d stretched the allowable time limits for bike demos (which is something that, again, my first bike shop taught me gently: two weeks is a tad too long to keep a demo bike. Sorry about that, guys). I was pretty sold on the Epic, immediately, which brought me back to thinking about the Safire. Why wasn’t I as sold on it right away? Or rather, why did my feelings about it erode as the ride went on? Usually one gets to know a bike and becomes more confident as time goes on, but I found the opposite.
On the other hand, when I took the Specialized Ruby Expert – the women’s specific road bike in the line – out for a spin, I liked it immediately, much more than my own road bike. The Ruby seemed to fit me much better and I wasn’t as uncomfortable and squirmy as I am on my own road bike. I am pretty much saving up for a Ruby right now. Why did the Ruby work for me when the Safire didn’t?
I could ride those bikes for weeks, trying to work all this out. I did my best with the time I had at Crankworx – one of my friends commented that he thought no one else at Crankworx rode as much as I did in those two days – but I still wasn’t fully satisfied with the results of my test rides. There are just too many factors at play to draw any definitive conclusions. After two days on the Safire and some great moments and some awful moments, I think that there was a fundamental mismatch on some components of the bike in regards to my strengths, weaknesses, and riding style. And I wasn’t the only one with this general feeling about the Safire, either. I approached another woman at the demo who was just returning the bike, and she confided that she had the same issue with controlling the front end. “It just felt like it was going everywhere,” she said, clearly frustrated. “I couldn’t steer it and it felt too small.” Comforted somewhat that it wasn’t just my skill level at play, I thought long about my rides on the Safire. There’s no question that it’s a great bike in many respects. It’s fast, has a great suspension, is light and quick, and has a very comfortable standover (this last was not really illustrated to me until later on the first evening when I got back on my personal bike and promptly whacked my crotch on the top tube). On certain trails and under certain conditions, it would probably have been much more to my liking, which made me think: perhaps the trails I tried it on were just not suited to the bike? On an XC race-style trail, I might be singing a different tune. I can imagine that on buttery, smooth, fast singletrack, the Safire would be mighty quick and REALLY fun to ride. Switchbacks are pretty easy on it and it is a very responsive bike and very stable at speed. It’s the low speed obstacles that were tricky, at least under my taurine hands. I would love to see how it handles on true XC trails rather than the chutes-and-ladders nightmare of Whistler’s trails. I might never really know, because Whistler is just not the place to test an XC bike.
While I would jump at the chance to ride the Safire on my smoother XC trails at home, I need to finish this article someday so I’ve got to draw conclusions based on what I experienced on the Safire already. If I were shopping for an XC race bike, or one do-it-all or at least do-most-of-it bike, I would put the Safire on the list for consideration solely based on its incredible, made-for-me suspension. But the bigger question – was this bike a good WOMAN’S bike – was unanswered. For help, I turned to the internet, where surely scads of women have reviewed this bike. The first in-depth review I read was BY A DUDE who had bought the Safire for his girlfriend. She’s 5’2”, he’s 6’2”, so he never actually rode the bike, but he qualified himself to do the review by saying he has a perfectly good idea of how the bike rides because he’s ridden the Stumpjumper, “the same bike in gent’s form.” NO. No! This is the entire point of the Safire. There is no other bike in the Specialized line that is a “version” of the Safire. It’s its own bike, built and designed from the ground up. This reviewer took his girlfriend’s raves and applied them to the review – but also revealed that it was her first time on a full-suspension bike. This review had so many holes, I just couldn’t go with it. Seriously, sorry man, nothing personal, but you really have to RIDE a bike to review it.
Moving on, I stopped by MTBR to find a small handful of short reviews, all of them very good but none of them providing much detail. A few other stops revealed rudimentary reviews with no details about the riders themselves. The most valid review came straight from the mouth of the Queen of Pain herself, Rebecca Rusch, who told me that she thought the Safire was “a great bike.” In hindsight I wish I’d been able to discuss it more with her, but I wasn’t interviewing her about the Safire itself so I gave it a miss. But it’s pretty clear that she loves this bike and was stoked for me to have been able to test it so extensively. A video review on Girl Meets Bike professed love for the Safire, after an initial getting-to-know-you period on which the tester had to “learn to ride the bike in a way that pleased it and me.” What she meant by that, I don’t know, but perhaps she went through the same thing that I did, and had to find the right conditions under which the bike would perform as it was intended. I’ll give her a heads up on this article and maybe she’ll comment. Until then, I just have to guess – like I have to guess about every bike review I read. Is the reviewer experienced with other comparable bikes? Is it her first time on a full suspension bike or her first time on trails? What is she used to riding? How is the bike set up? Are there negatives to the bike that she didn’t comment on?
This last is a difficult one. When someone hands you a nice bike that they are clearly proud of and want to hear what you have to say, it’s quite difficult to be up front about any less-than-ideal experiences. This article has been quite tough to write because I can’t unequivocally say that the Safire is the best option out there for women. I can’t say that women’s geometry is necessarily any better for me than “regular” bike geometry. Bike geometry is so varied and individual preference so nuanced that it seems next to impossible to come up with a one-geometry-fits-all solution for ANY gender. I can unequivocally say that if other bike frames were fitted with the same optimized-for-women technology, most female riders would notice a huge difference right from the get-go. I am so used to constantly fiddling with rebound, air pressure, slow speed compression, blow-off compression, etc etc and still not having things dialed, that I was really astonished to be able to set the air pressure according to my weight and just ride away without having to think of it again. There is really something to women’s specific suspension, as well as the Brain technology. The other (non-women’s) Specialized bikes I tried had great suspension as well, though not as completely dialed-from-the-start as the Safire.
I can also say that women in general benefit greatly from Specialized’s efforts. Just acknowledging that the average woman is different from the average male is a huge step. Seeing the big Specialized Women trailer at trade shows is gratifying. Finally a company that wants women to ride bikes. Is Specialized just chasing the women’s market and women’s money by trying to appeal to the female masses, John McCain-style? Or do they really care? I don’t know about Specialized The Company. It’s a big company, what can I say? I’m sure there are people there who DON’T care. However, I CAN say for sure that the brains behind the women’s bikes really do care. They’ve had to compete strenuously for engineering and marketing resources within the company. And they have indeed come up with an engineering marvel. Added to a marketing scheme that tells women in no uncertain terms that they are important, it’s all quite genius. And being thought of as important – that is something that women who ride have long been looking for.
Big Stars, Bright Lights: Concert in the Park at Deer Valley
September 15, 2010
On our last night in town, Deer Valley Resort set us up to go see Michael McDonald of Steely Dan fame at one of the Concerts at the Park at the base of the Snow Park ski lift. Admittedly this type of event is not something that any of us would typically think we wanted to go and do (we are more the adventure-y, outdoorsy types), but since the resort kindly hosted us we decided to go check it out.The resort’s PR office told us ahead of time that we’d have tickets and picnic baskets reserved in our name at the concert, but somehow we didn’t quite realize that this meant we’d get the full VIP treatment. We thought we’d be sitting on the grass, so we packed a rather garish assortment of blankets (two of which were Christmas themed with penguins, Santas, and “ho ho ho” all over them), a bottle of wine poured into a Nalgene, jackets, and a few other odds and ends. We had just completed yet another epic day of mountain biking on the Mid-Mountain and Crest trails, so we were really looking forward to any excuse to sit down and put more food in our faces, so we packed extra food in case the picnic baskets weren’t enough for us bottomless pits.
These are the blankets and general demeanor that we brought to the event. Everyone else in designer jeans at $1500 outfits and us in Santa blankets. This was one of the high points of our visit. Seriously.
Little did we know that we had reserved seating (complete with lawn chairs – swanky!), a separate entrance, and gracious escorts to show us to our seats. We were stoked! But when we arrived we found that instead of three tickets and three baskets, we had two tickets and four baskets, which translated to lots of food but nowhere to sit. Let me tell you, though, the staff at Deer Valley are all over things because the VIP concierge quickly produced another ticket in about ten seconds flat, right next to the first two which was actually kind of a miracle. We still ended up with four full picnic baskets though, so we made quite the spectacle tromping to our seats laden down with four baskets, three silly-themed blankets, a cooler, a bag, and a bottle of wine (in addition to our wine-in-Nalgene-bottle). As we sat we were overcome with the giggles as we are really not very pretentious or stylish people, and our just-completed-thirty-mile-bike-ride-hungry-enough-to-eat-a-horse look combined with my co-Geargal’s newly obtained bike-induced cuts and bruises, our tacky blankets, wine in a Nalgene bottle, and general cluelessness contrasting with the classy picnic baskets and swanky environment made us look…interesting, shall we say the least.
The crowd started out sedate and dignified.
Said bike ride had made us all ravenous (are you noticing a theme with these Park City posts?), and we quickly dove into the baskets to see what goodies awaited us. Now, if you ever get the chance to go to a Concert at the Park at Deer Valley, I highly recommend getting a picnic basket because it really is great, and full of enough food for two (unless one of you is my boyfriend, who can really eat like there is no tomorrow). Each basket had a filet of either beef or salmon, a plate of antipasto, a piece of lemon pound cake, a chocolate raspberry tart, a baguette, a sliver of brie, an apple, a bunch of grapes, and plate, napkin, and swanky faux metal flatware to eat it all with. Way too much for one person to eat and for whatever reason we had four of them for only three of us. It really was overwhelming and we ended up sharing quite a bit of our food with event volunteers and people sitting around us. This was fine with us as an excess of food is a GOOD thing after a 40+ mile mountain bike day.
We didn’t know what to expect from the concert itself, as none of us knew that much about Michael McDonald’s own music – all we knew was the Steely Dan/Doobie Brothers era stuff. He played enough covers to give our ears some familiar sounds, though, and he really must have sparked something in the audience because the crowd went from a reserved and dignified zero to a shouting, dancing, clapping, celebrating sixty in about five minutes. At one moment there was sedate rhythmic clapping with a few audience members dancing on one of the grassy lawns, and the next about 90 percent of the audience was on their feet, dancing like crazy.
Then they started packing the lawn as they danced. Notice: 90% women. I don't know why dudes miss out on this kind of thing - there were only a handful of guys joining in on the dancing. Hello guys: Good opportunity here!
There were people running down to the front of the stage, shaking their designer jean-clad hineys and waving their arms in the air, and one woman even performing a faux strip tease (sexily removing her red fleece vest, revealing a starched cotton shirt and yet another pair of designer jeans). It really was the most hilarious thing, seeing the wine-sipping, haute couture crowd really getting down and funky. The venue was great, though; nothing can beat the open air. The concert was kept to a reasonable hour and 15 minutes which is enough time for everyone to get all excited but not so long that weird things start to happen. The fleece vest strip-tease was enough weird for me.
After the concert we were pleasantly surprised to find that our VIP status got us into the afterparty, which was a hopping affair that featured a salsa bar, beer and wine, and coffee. And more Park City people watching, which I have to say was a highlight for me. Of course I had to make an idiot out of myself one more time; no night is complete without it. The VIP gate guard was solicitously advising the party ahead of us to watch their step on the perfectly manicured, very gently sloping lawn, so I took it upon myself to wisecrack when she turned to us, telling her “don’t worry, we’re not hammered, we can handle the lawn” at which time she pointed out that the woman in front of me was injured and using a cane, hence the need for careful stepping. Nice job, me. Duly humbled, we carried our Christmas blankies in to the VIP party to do some people watching. The crowd had gotten so into the concert that we were sure the party would be a good scene, and we were not disappointed. It lacked the dancing, but retained the energy and the crowd was still on its Michael McDonald-induced high.
The crowd starts getting to their feet....
As I waited in the drink line (we got two free ones, and I must say that being a VIP is definitely the way to go), I decided to learn more about Park City by engaging with the locals. Let’s just say that Park City is pretty fashion conscious. It’s evident just by looking around that people spend a LOT of time on their appearance. I figured this was my in, so I commented that I liked one woman’s boots and she said “They’re Frye” in that tone that meant that duh, I really should have known that, touched with a bit of sadness for me that I was such a fool as to have to ask. This backcountry girl from Alaska who wears no makeup and has only had hair extensions once in her life (in order to dress up as Lara Croft for Halloween) really has no idea what Frye boots are , nor do I understand the sort of enhancements that Park City women seem to be really into. Lots of women here also seem to go to the same hairdresser for the same highlights and swishy, fashionable layered haircuts. After three days of Outdoor Retailer, at which no one really even wears makeup and most women have sports-induced bruises and broken fingernails and drink beer out of the bottle, it was a study in contrast to come back to an event in Park City where no woman (um, except me) leaves the house without perfect highlighted and/or extended hair, manicured nails, designer clothes and sunglasses, full face practically stage-ready makeup, and pretty much perfect everything. Believe me, if something is not perfect, it is starched, molded, colored, or surgically enhanced to force it to be perfect. Though, if you ask me, there is something weird about seeing 55 year old women in Ed Hardy shirts and sparkly Guess tops and jeans with spangled rear pockets. I was having a bit of a Freaky Friday moment.
Michael McDonald put his all into the concert, if you can't tell by the sweat on his shirt. He is a really kick-ass musician with a very talented backing band, in case you didn't know.
The guy behind me in the drink line was so enamoured of the Frye-boot-wearing woman (who really was very pretty), and pretty much any other good looking woman (which was all of them; this town is the motherlode for good looking, well-groomed women) and was so vocal about his views on such topics that I finally had to get involved with his ogling and tell him that if he went up and asked her if she was wearing Frye boots he might be able to strike up a conversation. I was really hoping that he would do it so that I could have even more entertainment during this already really amusing night, but he had no balls and wouldn’t do it. I even told him directly that he was sackless and he just said sadly, “I know.” And sad it is, really, to be reduced to staring openly at women but lacking whatever it takes to go and talk to them. It’s just kind of unfortunate in general to be over forty (oh, even, over TWENTY) and be so focused on appearance that an actual conversation or interest in someone’s personality seems out of reach. Just a little observation I thought I’d throw into this review. You see, reviews of human nature are so rarely published; perhaps I should change the focus of this site. But testing human nature is not nearly as fun as testing gear and checking out travel destinations, so, hmm, I think not.
But before I get completely off the subject of human nature, I want to mention that another thing I noticed about the Park City crowd is that they don’t feel compelled to clean up after themselves. I was pretty appalled to see the trash, bottles of wine, and general detritus left all over the lawn for the event staff to pick up after the concert was over. This is not classy behavior, Park City, and you should clean up after yourselves because other people are not here just to do it for you. Or, maybe we are, because my party ended up helping pick up used picnic baskets for a while because we are just that way and don’t like to see things left a big mess. I really should have taken a picture of the mess, but I wasn’t supposed to take pictures, according to the signage. How did I get the pictures shown above? Er….
One of the many mountain bike injuries, along with the gutted remains of some of the picnic baskets.
Local-shaming aside, the concert was a highlight for us. We had a blast. We enjoyed the VIP treatment very much and I would advise concert goers to spring for the reserved seats; they were very good and provided great sound and view of the stage. I also highly recommend the baskets. They aren’t really cheap but you get a TON of food for your money and we were really happy to have them after our long mountain bike excursion. Even as hungry as we were, we could have done with two baskets between the three of us. We were happy to be able to share our food bounty with other concert-goers. Still, the concert would have been really enjoyable even without the accoutrements; outdoor concerts are great anyway and this small, intimate venue was really well suited to a nice experience. If you are a fashion maven you will be in heaven, and if you are not, you will definitely feel immersed in a foreign culture. And isn’t that a big reason for traveling?
Mountain Hardwear Corsica Pants
September 9, 2010
OK, here’s the deal. I like these pants, I really do. They are cute and sexy and nicely low cut, which I like because it shows off my figure. I want to wear them on many outdoor adventures, especially the ones on which I want to look really hot. But the thing about adventures is that they are adventuresome, and they require basic maneuvers like, you know, bending over, sitting down, stepping up, and things like that. And these pants are so low-cut that, well, such actions tend to be more revealing than I personally prefer.
Take the useful tool strap on the side of the pants. This would seem to infer that the pants are for either construction (hammer loop!) or climbing. If you would wear these pants climbing then you are way more brave or exhibitionist than I. The zip off legs similarly imply that the pants are meant to be used in a variety of weather conditions, such as the ones you might find, say, on a hike. I can stand and walk slowly in these pants without showing butt crack, but that’s about it. And when they show butt crack, we are not talking just a peek here. Sitting down to zip off the legs is just out of the question. So for anything besides a nice little stroll in the park, I can’t find anywhere to wear these things.
