Shoe(s) Review(s)

Over the past couple of years, my curiosity has lent its wares to my pocketbook; I have spent a good portion of those funds on shoes. In case any of you were curious, I decided to give my unbiased input on those shoes I chose to purchase (heads up: all of these purchases had bikepacking in mind). So, without further adieu, here is my take on three sticky rubber shoes that may, or may not work well for you:

1. La Sportive Boulder X



First, I will note that Sportive makes a variety of the Boulder X shoes (including one in Gore Tex!!), but I am only reviewing the base model here. Starting with the basics, the Vibram sticky rubber sole with rounded knobby tread does wonders for what they intended it. When I initially bought this shoe a few years ago, I wanted to use it for a slippery approach on granite in order to get to a local climbing spot. The shoe proved incredible in sticking to steep scrambles where I otherwise would have stumbled. Fit-wise, I sized down a half size (I'm 11.5 and I purchased an 11) and it did not bother me unless I thought about it too much (Sportiva tends to run a bit large anyway, so buying a smaller size was not a big surprise). I even found it worked well when I hiked up (most of) Mt. Whitney: twenty-two miles and I only felt a mild hot-spot in the shoe.
As for bikepacking, the Boulder X is a worthy contender, but not necessarily on the sticky rubber side of the issue. If terrain proves slippery and steep, the Boulder X shines, but if you are logging long miles in the saddle, I found the rounded knobby sole to pop off of the pedals somewhat frequently (and unnecessarily). The stiffness of the sole did not pose an issue at all; on the contrary, it feels amazing and, in all fairness, if one engages their pedal strokes with consistent pressure they should eliminate most of the "popping off" issue.
When it comes to durability, the jury is still out for me. I've had these shoes for over 5 years and they are still hanging in their with minimal disastrous issues. My friends' Boulder X's, however have proven to not last quite as long. I never have bouldered in mine much, nor set routes in them, but my friends who did choose to boulder in them found the leather practically destroyed after a year or so. Still, for ninety-nine bucks, most of my friends who trashed theirs say they love them and would buy another pair (and they still wear their trashed ones around)!
So, all in all, the Boulder X is pretty legit if you are on a one hundred dollar budget. Comfy, somewhat durable, and definitely sticky.


2. FiveTen Guide Tennie (low)



By far, this sticky rubber approach shoe has stolen my heart. The Stealth sole on the Guide feels the stickiest, stiffest, and burliest out of all the approach shoes I have tried thus far (I still have yet to try Scarpa). The price is a bit more burly as well (mine retailed at around $140), but I felt I definitely got what I paid for. The website claims a small bit of water resistance to the leather upper, but I have no clue how water resistant it actually is due to the fact that every time I got caught in the rain in this shoe, the rain seeped in through my socks and the very obvious opening by my ankles. I ended up using the Outdoor Research Wrapid Gators, which held most of the rain at bay and packed nicely in a small portion of my Carsick Designs Handee Randee.
As for approach, I can only share what my friends have experienced as I have only used these for biking in inclement weather. Every single individual I know who owns a pair of the Guide Tennies sings its praises. They even were pretty stoked when I told them I was ordering a pair of them and told me how incredible of a shoe they are. I can only imagine that on granite, these shoes grip like none other.
On the bike, the low profile circle design knobs on the sole prove much more appropriate for biking than the Boulder X. This shoe has yet to slip off the pedal on me. The only downside to extremely sticky rubber might be that it is difficult to position one's foot on the pedal; as soon as you place your foot down, it sticks (go figure) and you have to pick up your foot to re-position it. I won't even waste my time, however, complaining about that because it is almost a non-issue. I do remember my friend a while ago getting a bit frustrated with his downhill pedals on his MUni (Mountain Unicycle) and how he had to place his feet just right when he would mount the Uni and on dirt with obstacles, this can be a bit tricky. Nonetheless, he still rides with his FiveTens on endurance desert Uni rides and swears by them.
The shear build of this shoe is clearly durable, but not heavy. I love minimalist shoes due to the fact that I have suffered a bit from heavy shoes causing shin splints--even while biking). These shoes all around are fairly light, durable, and sticky enough to smear some mild class five steepness.

3. Evolv Cruiser (canvas)



First off, I purchased this shoe with the full knowledge that the only person I knew who had not blown this shoe to bits was my boss's wife, who wears them occasionally to work where she is mostly sitting down. I think Ultra Romance sometimes rides with this shoe and had said he has gone through seven pairs in a year and a half--yikes! I knew all this, but the minimalist design, lightweight factor, and packability intrigued me, so I bought a pair. I never like to deliberately destroy things, so I have treated these shoes somewhat gingerly as per the aforementioned destructibility awareness.
My overall take on these is fairly positive; I have not yet beaten these shoes to death. As a daily commuter shoe in fair weather, these shoes are perfect! They cost much less than their competitors (around seventy to seventy-five bucks) and are extremely comfortable with or without socks. I ride forty or more miles a day and they perform well when I hit the trails on the way to work.
Specifically, however, I just put them on right before I ride and take them off immediately when I get off the bike. I have not used them on an approach yet, but my co-worker loves them for approach. I know many course-setters who use these for forerunning routes in the climbing gym, but I can only imagine these shoes would wear out pretty quickly.
Overall, if you are looking for a lightweight, inexpensive approach shoe, or are not sure if you buy into the whole sticky rubber phenomenon, I would recommend this shoe. If you need a commuter shoe that will not completely break the budget, this is also a great option.

As noted earlier, I have yet to try the many other sticky rubber shoe brands, but if I do (because I do love trying out new sticky shoes), I will be sure to post about them.

25March2016

Sometimes, I get very tired. I think this idea eludes those who see me constantly on my bike. They think, "oh, I could never do what you do [commuting 20 miles each way to work]." The humbling reality for me is that, quite simply, if I didn't have to, I probably wouldn't. Not because I don't want to, but I, just like most other people, look for the path of least resistance (i.e., a car).

Don't get me wrong: I do love riding my bike. Some days, however, I don't feel the same drive to ride my bike as I do on other days. The idea just doesn't appeal to me.

A very wise man once wrote (and I'm paraphrasing) that you cannot build your weapons for war in the trenches--you will be killed instantly. You have to take the necessary time to prepare in advance, in order that you will be ready for the Day.

At the end of each day, I often find myself sitting in the couch. Then, I catch a glimpse of my dirt-tattered Surly Pugsley and a sense of accomplishment fulfills me. 

What you should do is not always what you want to do, but it is always the best to do in the end.

NAHBS 2016 Highlights (well, for me, that is...)

This last weekend, the North American Handmade Bicycle Show graced the presence of the Convention Center in the great City of Sacramento. Like many local cycling geeks, I had the opportunity to volunteer for this inspiring, eye-opening, "art-wrenching", incredible event. While one day is too short to spend at an event where metal artisans exhibit in droves (like, two hundred or something??), if one has the time to attend this event, one should.
Bike-lover or not, the craftsmanship alone astounds even the most art-petty mind. One question I found myself asking: "what process did this individual frame builder go through to get to their final idea?" As an artist and lover of life stories, the answer to this question brings aid to my own obstacles in the artistic voyage.
Although I only spent a day (too short) at the NAHBS in Sacramento, I was able to ask many frame builders how long they have been at their craft. As expected, I suppose, some of the bike industry artists/engineers had chosen this career path many years ago (albeit most likely not calling it that when they started), while others have one frame they worked on the entire year and are just getting their feet wet. An interesting observation I discovered was that the ones who had been at their craft the longest had some of the richest, simplest, perfected frames, while the younger "noobs'" framework possessed the more ornate, elaborate, eye-popping design work.









All in all, when I considered what these individuals had accomplished, I realized it all started with them responding to a call. I too often (as explained in an earlier post) hang back and consider the value of the endeavor too much, often determining that it would not have any lasting affect on those who look upon it. Seeing a room full of art and not being able to view it all, an exhibitor may get the same feeling. "Why should I be the one to catch anyone's attention amongst all these other incredible artists." The best takeaway may be that, when it comes to life-giving pursuits, it pays to simply dive in. Yes, the first product may be messy (as with the process of fillet brazing), but if the vision is kept close at heart, the end result will be just what it should: sharing the gift with which you have been blessed. In some way, whether you get to see it or not, it will affect, inspire, and/or encourage those interacting with it.

Now, some other highlights...

For mountain biking in the greater Sacramento Area, FATRAC (Folsom Auburn Trail Riders Action Coalition) does an incredible job keeping local MtB-ers on sweet trails.


In the local sector, we in Sacramento are lucky to have SABA (Sacramento Area Bicycle Advocate) in our corner for so many events and important bicycle topics; if you have the chance to ever help with bike valet at an event in Sacramento, please consider it!



In MtB engineering, I kept finding these fork choices interesting...I am told they are pretty effective (and they just plain look cool!).




Sycip's display held the attention of the boys...and Sandy Hernandez (a real kid at heart).


My wife got to talk to Chris King for five minutes (lucky) and get a better feel for what it takes to "make it" in the bike industry.



I have to admit, I am a sucker for fat bikes...and Peacock Groove showed the potential for my kids to have fat bikes, too!! Really fun designs.




No mystery here: from display quality to items on the docket, Breadwinner had a lot of good stuff to look at. The motorcycle rig is actually the owner's. The fully-loaded tourer was my fav.







White Industries and Paul Components: two brands I may never have the money to enjoy, but I can certainly admire from afar...



The future of (my) mountain biking: the 36" mid-fat wheel; seen here on the Dirtysixer


Calfee knows what the necessities are: Bamboo Bike with matching rack carrying a twelve-pack.


And, finishing it off with the best experience of the day (and, ironically, the worst photo I took), Ritchey Logic. The good conversation I had with Tom Ritchey was not at all about bikes...and it was probably the highlight of the event for me.

21JAN2016

"A poor craftsman blames his tools."
I don't know who first coined this phrase, but it haunts me almost daily. I recently heard it spoken during a routesetting clinic I attended a little over a year ago. Our instructor noted that you could be upset if you did not have the [climbing] holds you wanted or the ability to use power tools and you could blame those things for your terrible bolted climbing route, but ultimately people would really see it for what it was: poor craftsmanship.




During my educative years at Point Loma Naz. in San Diego, I noticed something about accessible photography in that time period and it caused me to come up with a theory: maybe a person could actually take REALLY good photography with a disposable camera. Sure, several limitations arise from the concept of a disposable camera, like lighting, focus, speed, f-stop, and lens interchangeability (to name a few), but the artistic value concepts of balance, placement, composition, etc. could still be applicable if one is willing to work within those confines of the tool given to them (e.g., the disposable camera). I think by the end of my college career I had at least two solid examples that proved my theory enough to me.



Recently, my Canon 20D shot its last photo. I could not revive the 8.2 megapixel (good for its day) DSLR; it was dead. My son graciously (after some convincing) allowed me to use his shock/storm/water-proof Fujifilm point-and-shoot. At first, as to be expected, I was pretty bummed at the quality, or lack thereof, of the photos I attempted to take. Sunrises, contrast of leaves in trees, or the speed of the ground beneath my bike all felt nearly impossible to capture when I wanted to. I felt at a total loss.

Then, I remembered this theory I had back in college and how I could possibly put that to use now. True, I would not get to show people exactly what I wanted to show them, nor always capture the catharsis I wanted, but at least I could exercise a bit of artistic knowledge with the tool I had. Nevertheless, my hunt for a replacement DSLR (5D, maybe :) is on! Until then, I would like to thank my eldest son for allowing me to test out his camera.