Dienstag, 19. Juli 2016
!glass! drill bits to get through this material. And this after I thoroughly annealed and deep-froze and annealed once more and I could work it with a file). Not that it was that hard, it just was so ductile that the bore chips came in one long and several short ones. The grates were looking as if someone punched a pudding. Weird.
I look forward to it even if it is so different to my normal line of thought. In fact, I do, BECAUSE it is so different to everything I would normally make, and it might help broaden my view and confirm new perspectives.
Turned out that with a shortcage rear derailleur and a chain that was a bit short and a 100kg body weight that was a combination that was less than ideal.
So Henning tore off his derailleur hanger. #shit, if you ask me. Henning is fighting quite some adversaries taking up the sport, and I am really sorry for this (but cannot help it any). Mountainbiking is a hard sport, and you WILL fall, and you WILL hurt yourself, and you WILL wreck your bike. Mastery comes with controlling the circumstances, so that if you hurt yourself, you do not hurt yourself permanently, and if you wreck your bike, you are prepared to repair it. A torn derailleur hanger, however, is just about SNAFU.
Since it did not work out, Henning packed up and was off for a BBQ, and we continued tutoring Nick and Kathrin. I was really fond of Kathrin, who is making some huge progress at the moment. She has to overcome some mental barriers still (some anxiety and the plain refusal to do some essential things such as getting accustomed to riding with a lowered seat in technical situations, but as is, her composure and body tonus are way good already.
Lowering your seat in technical situations is not only a requirement of style. It often is crucial for survival, and even on some leisurely and casual rides you always encounter steep inclines where a high seat will ultimately send you over the bars. This is often not easy to understand for beginner riders, why you need a high seat for some situations and a low one for others, but it is an essential technical basic to know when to say when. A lower seat, even if you are not accustomed to it, will offer you more control in steep inclines and when climbing over obstacles.
We did some more braking practice and some first practice on off road terrain. Kai gave some valuable additional input with his background in trials and hardcore freeride mountainbike riding.
Folks, it just feels cool to just go out with you, and as I have said on countless occasions - I really look forward to showing you some real rides and to open up the "heart of the wind" for you! But even so, it´s cool to have you around! For this to me is what mountainbike riding is all about: hanging out with some friends at places where it is really cool, pushing your comfort zone and playing around on a bike, and some good foodie afterwards which you can delve into with relish.
Simple. Fun. ;-)
These characteristics are mainly the simple handle and the diamond shape of the blade. Differences include the lack of a Habaki and the rarely upswept point of the blade with Puukko designs.
I forged the blade from some Wootz steel I found in the woods... 110mmx5-2mm blade, selective temper, for technical data.
For the handle I adapted a shape from the Novgorod knife finds with an octagonal shape from bog oak. This has quite an interesting history. A loose acquaintance of mine and the magic troll´s we meet at re-enactment fairs from time to time had the wood for cheap. The corporation he worked for was being restored, and under the foundations of the building they found an old house from medieval times. The wood was conserved in the soil and was salvaged by him-he had made entire stools from bog oak!
The design is a bit dark to my liking, so I guess I´ll do some fittings from silver or bronze for´t. As is, it´s really sharp and well - balanced.
Mittwoch, 6. Juli 2016
That´s fine and okay with me, for some of my biggest idols were lunatics... say Suibhne Geilt, Lailoken and all those Myrddins and Merlins, and their example shows me the way out. Out to the mountains and the woods, where life still reigns supreme and not that parody that is said to be life - amongst humans. So arrogant has our species become, and thus blind, that it claims that only human society is the measure for life and death... how wrong this is and how ridiculous, anyone who can still feel it, can feel in the thicket. It does not necessarily need to be untamed and wild, and not necessarily a "grave danger with Dave Granger" outing ;-) to feel it. It is just underneath the next holly bush.
There it lies, the "olore malle", the silver chord that leads to the navel of twilight. There it lies, in silence, the place where you can sprout wings and tread in stealth and speak in riddles, giggles and stifled whispers.
And yeah, again, as I did so many times before I followed it, into the twilight and deeper still, along the crags and into the green. With closed mouth and an open heart I walked and climbed the crumbling rock.
Dark and deep lay the crevice, full of unspoken secrets, the nesting place of owls. I talked about it when they asked me. They asked me, and at first I did not want to reply and answered with commonplaces and riddles. And my boss insisted and applied force, and I told the story, for "you can take my past and future / It won´t make you wise" (Lemmy Kilmister). She laughed at me, for there are no owls in her world. Owls are an ornament or something you see in a zoo.
And I laughed with her, against her, with a menacing laughter, that was not entirely human anymore. I laughed with cruel joy. For her ignorance makes her prey to what the owl stands for.
And she rises from her eyrie on planes beyond, rises on stealthy wings, like a whisper in the night. Her claws and beak are eager for the living flesh; she of the mighty wisdom, she of the cruel joy of the hunt, she of the thousand crafts and the mistress of the hunter.
Up rise the mossy crags into the twilight,
For it is not. They want to keep hope from our lives, they want to rout these happy feelings and replace them with guilt and shame-unto we shall consume what junk and glittering trumpery they place before us in order to satisfy our insane greed. And we run, run at their bidding, to fulfil the new first commandment: Thou shalt buy and trash! But beyond the image of a wood, be it as it may, the silver dream road through the iron wood commences, where fairy tales still live.
I found this totem pole at a camp site some locals had set up and had to smile...
To the hills I wandered, and what is the message of this hike?
This is a signpost reading: "The concept of the Kyrill reforestation program"... but you cannot read it anymore...
They cannot win.
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