Physical Deterioration, Digital Decay

Over at Down the Road, Jim Grey is scanning some negatives he took back in 1982, pictures of friends and memories from his high school days.

This hits a note for me, because I have a huge box of negatives in the attic from my peak photography days in 1990-1992. I was working in one hour photo labs and as a photographer's assistant, and so I got discounted film and prints and free processing. Well, technically processing was supposed to be discounted, too, but no manager I ever worked for cared if you ran your film through the processor during a lull in the workday or charged you to do so, since there was no actual cost to the company for it.

The funny thing is that most of my earliest digital photographs, from the early Mavica days in late '01 up through probably 2007 or so, are inaccessible to me right now. Anything I kept saved to a hard drive is quietly succumbing to bit rot on a dusty Celeron tower in a cobwebby corner of the attic. Anything I didn't save to HDD, well... who knows where those floppies are, assuming I even bothered to save them through two moves?

I've been a much better digital custodian since then, and have photos saved to multiple places, but I really should get a proper on-site RAID setup, rather than using just the single external HDD I am now.

I should also look into scanning some of those old negatives. I mean, I've got photos of Lance Armstrong winning the First Union Grand Prix in Atlanta, his first big race win, in there someplace.

I don't know whether I should get a proper scanner, or just a simple light table and use my phone for a scanner, though...

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Pedaling to Protein

Saturday afternoon Bobbi and I saddled up the bicycles and pedaled down the Monon Trail to the intersection of 46th & College for an early dinner on the patio at Root & Bone.

I had the carpaccio mac, described on the menu as "thin sliced beef, soft egg remoulade, herb crouton, crunchy iceberg, pickled shallot & crunch capers", and it was absolutely delicious.

Bobbi ordered the Fried Green Tomato "BLT", which was basically a BLT sammich, sans the bread. It, too, looked yummy and I made a note to get back there and try it myself some time.

On the way home, we pulled off the Monon at Half Liter BBQ because Sunday was the last day of Devour Indy Summerfest 2023 and I wanted Bobbi to try one of the special desserts that Half Liter was featuring for the event. Knowing how much she likes bread pudding, she didn't want to miss out on the Buffalo Trace bread pudding (Homemade bread baked with cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla and topped with a Buffalo Trace bourbon cream sauce.)

From there we pedaled home and chilled out and read for the remainder of Saturday evening.

(Well, I tried to watch Frankenstein on MeTV's Svengoolie, but I was too full of good chow and kept dozing off.)

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Y'know what's cool?

I can pull my bicycle out of the garage at 9:30 in the morning, and by quarter 'til ten, I've locked the bike to the fence at the Fairgrounds, bought my ticket, gone through the magnetometer, and I'm strolling to Pioneer Village with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, ready to take some pictures.

It can take more than fifteen minutes just to park when you drive your car to the Fair.

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Convenience...

The first few times Bobbi and I went to the fair, we rode down in her car, and I've driven there in the Zed Drei a couple times, too. Parking is always a hassle if you want to park on the Fairgrounds proper. I've parked in the infield of the race track, and I've parked over in the east corner of the Fairgrounds, labeled "A" on the map below. (Once you drive onto the Fairgrounds through the gate on Fall Creek Parkway, you're pretty much at the mercy of the traffic directors; you'll park where they shunt you and you'll like it.)

Vehicle parking up on the grounds of the Indiana School for the Deaf, across 42nd Street from the northwest corner of the Fairgrounds is generally less of a hassle, especially if you arrive early, but it's a bit of a hike just to get to the Fair, depending on where on the grounds they park you.

Bobbi and I have also made use of the secured bicycle parking right off the Monon Trail at the southwest corner of the Fairgrounds, marked "B" on the map. However, the nearest gate from there (marked "C") is a piece of a hike from the bike lot. Last year I just chained my bike to the fence outside that gate instead, like a lot of other folks.

This was convenient for parking, but that gate was clean on the opposite side of the Fairgrounds from Pioneer Village, where I like to spend my morning shooting photos.

This year the Monon Trail was closed north of 42nd Street for a widening project, and when I navigated my way to my usual gate there at "C" on the west edge of the Fairgrounds, it was closed, too.

I checked my maps and pedaled east on 42nd Street, which was closed to vehicular traffic, to Gate 12, which I have marked "D".

Bliss. Gate 12 is less than two miles of pedaling... maybe a ten minute bike ride, tops ...from the house, and it's just steps from Pioneer Village. I've found my new favorite way to get to the Fair.

My old Lowepro Messenger 200 barely fits in the rear basket of the Broad Ripple SUV

I mean, the entire process of pedaling down to the Fairground, locking up the bike, and strolling in the gate takes less time than just finding a parking space for the car.

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Bicycle Adventures

So, the Broad Ripple SUV hadn't been serviced since...early 2017? It's an elderly bicycle now. I bought it a dozen years ago, and it was a year-old New Old Stock model even then. Trek hasn't even made the 7100 since 2012.

I'd run it by the shop in '17 for a checkup, and then it mostly sat for 2018 because of the collarbone thing. It saw a lot of use for the last couple years, though. The tension on the shifter cable for the front chainrings  had gotten wonky; if you wanted to use either of the larger gears you had to maintain tension on the twist shifter or the worn-out chain would pop onto the smallest sprocket...or maybe completely off.

The brake levers could be bottomed out without a lot of effect, and the shoes on the front caliper were well-worn.

I suppose that I could have fiddled with the various cable adjustments and replaced the chain myself, but the bike is old enough that I figured it could benefit from a full looking-over. I dropped it off at The Bike Line up in Broad Ripple proper and was told it'd be a week or so. 

They emailed to let me know it was ready, and so yesterday morning I hopped the IndyGo Red Line and got off at the 66th Street stop, a two-block walk from the bike shop.

Midday, this far north, the Red Line isn't super busy.  Myself and one other passenger boarded here at 54th.

Freshly adjusted and with a new chain and rear shifter cable, it was like having a new set of wheels. The brakes actually stopped the bike with authority now, rather than leaving one thinking that maybe it was time to deploy the Flintstones method to avoid rolling into an intersection. The shifters shifted smoothly and stayed in the selected gear. 

I put in a few miles riding up and down the Monon Trail before adjourning to Half Liter for a late lunch and getting some writing done. It's gonna be a while before Broad Ripple has another day this pretty.

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Excited two-stroke noises!

This mad lad looked like he was having entirely too much fun. So much fun that I checked and, yes, you can buy gasoline engine conversion kits right off Amazon because of course you can.

I wonder what the price and availability of donor bikes is like these days?

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Speaking of bicycles...

...there are links here to a bunch of made-in-the-USA bike brands.

Most of them are pretty boutique, but there are some interesting finds in there. Many are projecting wait times of up to thirty days on new builds, so business is brisk.
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Others have noticed, too.

I turns out that Borepatch's co-blogger, ASM826, has been commenting on the bicycle shortage and the offshoring of the old Schwinn brand.

(At least the Schwinn label is still being applied to bicycles, and not Home Depot checkout lane impulse buy garbage the way other hollowed-out old American brand names, like Bell + Howell or RCA, have been.)
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Taking Precautions...

I keep my Saber Red spicy treats dispenser on the hook immediately in front of my car keys, so that I can't get the keys without first picking up the OC. Now I've added something else to the key rack!

Henry Holsters has the OCD (On-demand Cleanliness Dispenser) in stock, but you're on your own for the 1-oz Purell bottles, it looks like.

Fresh Market was clean and still fairly well stocked, although pasta and potatoes had been hit hard. It was uncrowded, too. The few shoppers in there were giving each other wide berths. I made use of my detachable bicycle basket so I didn't have to use one of theirs. Handy as dammit.

Cycling Daze Are Here Again...

After months of sitting idle, the Broad Ripple SUV's tires were dead flat. We aired them up and pedaled the not-quite-a-mile down to Next Door SoBro for lunch.

It was my idea because their loaded smashers are my kryptonite...

View this post on Instagram

The #loadedsmashers at @nextdooreatery are my kryptonite. 😮🤤

A post shared by Tamara Keel (@tamarakeel) on May 18, 2019 at 8:19pm PDT

Very Broad Ripple...

This is about the most Broad Ripple way to fetch the groceries I've yet seen.

End of an Era

Somewhere around here is a picture of me holding my very first serious camera, a Canon AE-1 Program like the one pictured above.

In that picture I'm a 24-y.o. kid inordinately happy with the fact that she's got a media pass and is working as a photographer's assistant covering the inaugural First Union Grand Prix bicycle race in Midtown Atlanta. My boss was doing important stuff while I got crowd shots with one of his Pentax ME's and my own AE-1. I also got some cool pics of some young rookie named Lance Armstrong out in front of the pack on his way to a big win.

I'd dig the picture out, but my jacked up shoulder isn't conducive to shuffling boxes around the attic just now. Remind me later.

Unlike Nikon, when Canon switched to autofocus cameras in the Nineties, they bit the bullet and went to an entirely new lens mount.

Canon still cataloged one model of 35mm film SLR, their top-of-the-line EOS-1V up until just now.

As it happens, those EOS-1V cameras in the catalog were actually "New Old Stock", however. The 35mm film camera market had collapsed so quickly that for the last eight years, Canon was selling new cameras that it had stopped making in 2010.

Having sold the last, Canon is now announcing that they are officially out of the film camera business after eighty years. They will be officially repairing the cameras through Halloween of 2025, although some repairs may be refused after 2020 based on availability of spare parts.

And so it goes.
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Brakes and Boycotts

The Zed Drei needs front brakes, but it's probably going to be a week before I can get to that, so I plan on using my city-dweller privilege as much as possible for the next couple days and just bicycle around.

Bobbi had left letters to be mailed that she wanted dropped in a mailbox rather than wait for our mail carrier to service the box on the front of the house (our carriers tend to the dilatory and peripatetic.)

So I saddled up the Broad Ripple SUV and pedaled over to the box at Locally Grown Gardens. There's one out front of Sam's Gyros, too, about equidistant from the house, but it requires waiting for the light to cross College Avenue and I seemed to recollect it has a crazy-early pickup time.

Anyway, it was a lovely day for a bicycle, and I arrived back home fairly happy, but then I remembered I had some other things I'd promised to pick up...

Normally, this would not have been a big deal: Point the bike north and the tiny Broad Ripple Kroger is about fifteen minutes away...

Normally I'm not big on boycotts, but Kroger went after my wallet directly, so they can get bent as far as I'm concerned.

So the Zed Drei got rolled out and errands were run at Meijer instead. They didn't have the current issue of Concealment on their newsstand yet, though.
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Yesterday as viewed through Prisma...

Shootin' Buddy arrived at 9:00AM and we saddled up the bikes and headed northward. Our Zero Point was roughly 54th street. Bear in mind that Indianapolis blocks are a tenth of a mile.

We stopped for a late breakfast at  Public Greens in Broad Ripple (64th Street). Shootin' Buddy had scrambled eggs and a cup of yogurt, while I had the chilaquiles. They put feta cheese in their chilaquiles. Too few dishes on this planet have both feta and salsa verde.

We stopped at the Kroger on 86th Street for some bottled water. There's a little bicycle maintenance station, with cabled tools and a tire pump, out by the bike rack at the Kroger.

This is the Palladium concert venue in Carmel. Just south of 126th Street.

We got all the way north to Grand Junction Brewing Co. just south of 176th Street in Westfield, where we enjoyed a One With Nature APA before turning around and heading back south. The exercise doohicky in the iPhone indicated we'd done about fifteen miles at this point.

While pedaling north through Carmel, I'd noticed Union Brewing Company just off the trail to the east. On the way back south, we stopped in for a pint of their Preacher Pale Ale, never having sampled the place or its offerings before. We will be back for sure.

 Arriving back at 86th Street, it was time for lunch at Big Lug Canteen. I had the Hans Grubeer, a "German IPA" with Hallertau and Mandarina Bavarian hops, and a charcuterie plate with their delicious bacon jam.

By the time we pulled back up to the garage at Roseholme Cottage, the iThingy indicated we'd ridden as close to thirty miles as makes no nevermind. And my backside is feeling it today.
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A Good Day

Shootin' Buddy arrived at 0900. We'll say our story starts at the intersection of 54th Street & the Monon Trail, since that's about where it started. From there we pedaled the mile-and-change north to Broad Ripple proper, to get breakfast at Public Greens.

I had the chilaquiles with a fried egg and smoked pulled pork, washed down with a couple glasses of water and a cup of coffee to fortify me for the day ahead.

About six miles south on the Monon and then a jog right on 10th Street puts you on the Cultural Trail, pedaling down Massachusetts Avenue.

The Cultural Trail wends right past Henry's Coffee Bistro, where we stopped for a breather. Shootin' Buddy had a cup of joe, but I got my SWPL on with an iced mocha latte.

Then it was back on the bikes to wend our way through downtown, circling around to a new spot at College Avenue and Georgia Street...

Metazoa Brewing Company. They weren't technically open yet, but the guy behind the bar took pity on us and pulled a couple pints. We looked like we'd been riding a ways, I guess.

Just north up College Avenue a half mile or so is St. Joseph's Brewery & Public House, where we pulled in for a half pint of their Seraphim Sour Ale before pedaling northwards in earnest.

At 25th Street, we took a detour west, pedaling a few blocks off the Monon to The Koelschip, located next to Goose the Market at 25th & Delaware. Since I'm stuck on sour beers for the nonce, I went with Artisan Tears, from Central State Brewing.

 I mentioned it was next to Goose the Market, right?

And then it was back on the bikes for the long uphill pull past Broad Ripple, and into Nora up on 86th Street, to try out another new-to-us place...

 Big Lug Canteen. This was where we had lunch...

I ordered a pint of their Bruce Lopez, a salted lime pale ale, and a charcuterie plate that came with a healthy scoop of the best bacon jam I have ever had in my life. Seriously, I'm going to go back and see what I can do to order just a fist-sized dollop of that bacon jam and a pile of crostini to smear it on.

And then it was back south to 54th & the Monon.

And I didn't have to use my AK.
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Pedal & Pub II: Electric Boogaloo

Saturday morning, a group of three hardy cyclists (one of our number having punked out) departed the vicinity of Roseholme Cottage in search of the craft breweries of the Fountain Square neighborhood, just southeast of downtown Indianapolis.

Well, first we took a quick mile-and-a-half detour north for breakfast at Public Greens, laying a good foundation of protein and carbs for the day's exertions, then we turned south...

Our navigatoring was thrown off by the fact that the Circle City Classic parade route bisected downtown at the time. Then we took a detour for one of our number to pick up shaving supplies at Red's Classic Barber Shop downtown. I waited outside and took pictures of the trim on the building.

Our first stop of the day: Chilly Water Brewing. Your correspondent enjoyed an Indy High Bines Fresh Hop Ale.

From the Monon up at Broad Ripple Avenue to the Cultural Trail through Fountain Square, the bike paths of Indy were liberally festooned (get it?) with chalked Bernie Sanders graffiti and the occasional Bernie sticker on a light pole or utility box. Notable by its absence: Hillary graffiti.

The next stop on the trail was New Day Meadery in the heart of Fountain Square. Note more Bernie graffiti. A small glass of Washington's Folly cherry mead was quaffed there. The staff was discussing that newfound darling of the Progressive Left, Pope Francis. A Bernie/Francis '16 ticket would be a juggernaut. The GOP better thank its lucky stars he doesn't have a Hawaiian birth certificate.

The eponymous fountain in the square, which is actually a sort of triangle.

 Next stop: Fountain Square Brewery.

 Love the decor. And the Star Trek: Voyager video game.

I had a pint of their Hop For Teacher pale ale.

We turned northwards again toward home. Where the cultural trail overlapped the street in Fountain Square, the bike lanes were separated from the traffic lanes by low concrete walls and bollards and had their own traffic lights. It was a much nicer setup than the life-in-your-hands cycling experience of Broad Ripple Avenue proper.

Back downtown, across from the City-County Building, lies the City Market, a sort of ⅔rds-scale Quincy Market. On the upper deck was the Tomlinson Tap Room, featuring a rotating menu of Hoosier craft brews. It was there that we decided to remedy an oversight of our previous journey before the slog north commenced.

Back down the Cultural Trail a long block and then out Washington Street and under the interstate, and we were on the edge of the Holy Cross neighborhood, where we had hit Flat 12 last time but neglected to pay respects to Indiana City Brewing.

Indiana was two years ahead of the nation with Prohibition, but we got better.

Shootin' Buddy, having seen more #FeelTheBern graffiti.

Now came the long pull up the Monon, back through The Worst Part of Indianapolis ("Somebody got found shot in the head in their SUV just two blocks that way this morning!" I'd pipe up helpfully, as we'd pass certain areas featured on that morning's news) and to the leafier, quieter streets of South Broad Ripple...

...where the final stop of the day was for dinner at Bent Rail Brewing, the newest addition to the SoBro scene. So new, in fact, that they hadn't yet gotten their own brewing underway yet. The tanks are all set up, waiting on all the i's to be dotted and t's crossed.

They did, however, have guest taps, and a delicious charcuterie plate, which hit the spot nicely after twenty-three miles in the saddle.
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How I spent my Saturday...

Shootin' Buddy and his posse showed up from Lafayette a little after ten and unloaded their bicycles in front of Roseholme Cottage. I pulled the Broad Ripple SUV out of the garage and prepared to play Sacajawea to their Lewis and Clarks. Good Morning Mama's was overflowing, so we pedaled over to the Aristocrat pub, which is doing weekend brunch now. After a delicious frittata smothered in sausage gravy, we set out south on the Monon Trail.

The Monon runs due south some five miles before dumping out on the Cultural Trail down at Tenth Street near Mass Ave. We took the Cultural Trail east but a shortcut at Indianapolis's beautiful World War Memorial Plaza turned into a long cut as we biked past the south side of the Scottish Rite Cathedral before picking up Capitol Avenue and heading north to TwoDEEP Brewing.

We were a little early, but the doors opened at noon and it was beer at last! Which was good, because it had reached the low 90s Fahrenheit and all that bicycling had worked up a thirst.

The PR-24 baton handle for a tap pull turned out to be an omen.

After a pint at TwoDEEP, everyone saddled their trusty steeds and pedaled back east, this time faithfully following the Cultural Trail. Reaching our next stop, the fabled Sun King brewery and tap room, required a half-block jog south on College, which is one-way northbound in that part of town.

Four of our number used the sidewalk on the west side of the street. One, who shall remain nameless, used the left-hand lane and got blue-lighted by a passing cop car who reminded him that, yes, One Way signs apply to cyclists, too.

Sun King's spacious and well-lit taproom features a wall of medals they've won at various brewing competitions.

Another view of the taproom. The tables are recycled bowling alley planking and the doorway on the left-hand wall leads to an outside patio with tables shaded by umbrellas.

After Sun King it was back on the bikes and just up the road to St. Joseph Brewery & Public House, which is a brand-new brewery...

...housed in a church built in 1879 to serve the fourth Catholic parish in Indianapolis.

A photo of the main dining room, taken from the former choir loft. There's a bar on the left, and a full menu of delicious food is available. We, however, were merely enjoying a pint before moving on to our next destination.

But since the route to our next destination led right past Outliers Brewing, who brew not only their own, but also all the tasty house recipes for Brugge Brasserie. I had a pint of tasty Pooka sour. On the wall in the taproom there was art for sale by Drew Avery, the awesomest server & bartender at Twenty Tap. It's a big city but a pretty small town.

From Outliers, we struck out east, under I-70 and into the Holy Cross neighborhood in search of the Flat 12 Bierwerks compound. All the way down the Monon I'd been feeling pretty smug about the 700x35c tires on the Broad Ripple SUV while everyone else was rolling knobby MTB tires. Taking bomb-cratered Vermont under the interstate, I was suddenly envious of the fatter tires' better shock absorbing properties. You'd have had to thread your way through there pretty carefully to avoid bending a rim on straight-up road bike tires.

Delicious beer at Flat 12, and the dim, air-conditioned coolness was a relief we gladly soaked up for a bit. It worried me, though. Every minute I stayed in the A/C sipping a smooth Belgian Wit, I got weaker, and every minute Charlie squatted in the bush, he got stronger. Er, or something like that.

Anyway, it must've made me soft, because the next stretch was back over to Mass Ave to pick up the Cultural Trail, backtracking up the Cultural Trail to pick up the Monon at 10th Street, and then the long, shallow uphill pull up the Monon from 10th to 49th street. I had a hard time maintaining an 11mph pace up the gradual grade from 10th to just past Fall Creek.

Turning out west from the Monon down 49th brought us to Upland Brewing's pleasant tasting room at 49th & College. I highly recommend the smallest room there for its cleanliness and air conditioning.

From there it was only a couple miles to our ultimate goal:

Pizza and a pint at Thr3e Wise Men, familiar to some of y'all from last year's NRA Annual Meeting.

By the time we got back to the van and I bid farewell to the crew and pedaled around the block to the garage, the odometer said I'd ridden 20.9 miles and the weatherman said it had been 91° and 70% humidity, so those were some well-earned pizza slices and pints.

Ready to do it again!
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