The secret to selling a fine bicycle.

I am going to spoil the plot right away so that you can get on with your extended Memorial Day weekend. Do not ride it.

I think I picked up the term from Velocipete. Today is a Ferrari Friday. I decided at the last minute and snuck out of our bedroom and down the stairs with my blue Rivendell trying not to make any noise in the darkness of the morning. Packed my clothes into my messenger bag and was out the door.

The blue bike is a traditional road bike. One of the first Rivendells that Curt Goodrich constructed and actually his former personal bike. Fits me perfectly, and as I was reminded this morning… rides like a dream.

I had myself convinced that it is too impractical. Well… I guess as impractical as a Rivendell might get. Brakeshoes are at the very bottom of the slots in the short reach brakes leaving room for Pasela Tourguards in 700x28. There would be tight clearances but I could (and hopefully will) fit narrow fenders. There are braze-ons for a rear rack. So, the impractical excuse is void.

I had briefly entertained the idea of selling it to free up some money to spend on my upcoming new touring rig. I thought that I had convinced myself that I don’t need this bike as it is too impractical. But, as I was riding into work today, the experience was simply SO amazing, felt so good, and was SO entertaining… No way. Not for Sale.

There is a feeling to both of my Rivendells beyond my ability to express in words. 15 years of working at a bike shop part time, having ridden many different bikes, and a lengthy history of having owned different bikes, the two customs designed by Grant Peterson, constructed by Curt Goodrich are exactly what I would want in a bike., again… If I could explain what I like about them.

The secret to having attempted to sell the blue bike would have been to not ride it.

I had another coworker ask me about riding his bike to work. Gave him a route and we talked a bit about the potential of cost savings. He and his wife both currently fill up about every 6 days to the tune of $100 total. As best I can figure, if he could stretch that to once every 7 days by riding a bike to work 1 day a week, he’d save about $700 a year.

Friendly Greetings

We rolled up to a stop light since it had turned red. I could "feel" the presence of the looming vehicle off my left shoulder. I glanced down at my little rear view mirror. I could only see the right front wheel and it looked like it was pointed to the curb.

I turned around, looked up and in the window with a friendly smile on my face, gesturing inquisitively in an effort to solicit whether he was going to turn right despite he not having his blinker on. I always attempt to position myself at the stop light if I can so that turning traffic can still proceed on a red light without me blocking the way.

There he was, a hulk of a man staring sternly out the window of his Ford Exploitation. Cigarette between the fingers of his left hand wrapped around the steering wheel. Without so much of a crack of emotion, he simply extended the middle finger of his right hand.

I smiled in return and waved back hoping he felt better.

Today was the 4th day in a row I have said hello to the same person I see walking. I suspect that she works at the Minneapolis Public Schools Nutritional Center on Plymouth Ave. She has yet to acknowledge my greeting. Being the stubborn type, I am going to continue to say hello until I get a response. I've tried this tactic with other people and have found that it can take weeks.

Bike Stuff, what else?

There is an art to life that I have not quite mastered. I find myself constantly trying to keep up with yesterday. Time flies...

This week has been Bike to Work Week. The goal is to encourage people to ride a bike to work. My wife was kind and wonderful enough to convince the principal of our kids elementary school to allow the kids to ride their bikes to school this week.
This is a big departure from where we were last year when this little bugger came home with the kids:


Note the last paragraph:


On last Saturday morning, we put together a little safety presentation at the school for the kids. Made sure the kids had helmets that fit, checked over bikes, and made sure that they practiced riding a little bit. We had 17 kids show up, mostly little kids in kindergarten through maybee 2nd grade.

When kids first arrived, it was immediately evident to me the origins of the bicycle derby:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bike_derby

The kids began instinctively circling the parking lot, most of them riding as fast as they could, skidding late into the corners, etc. It was quite entertaining actually. As much as I can tell, we as parents have concerns over letting them loose in traffic, but truly... these kids are fearless!

Monday came, 17 kids rode to school.
Tuesday, 26
Today... 48!

Awesome, totally awesome... We need to encourage more of this!!!

Risky Business

I use my ears a lot to listen to my environment while riding. The sounds one hears can give a pretty good indication of what's going on. When something doesn't sound quite right, it seems fairly obvious to me. I also posses the personality flaw that compels me to fill the roll of good-Samaritan. It was a four door Ford Focus that rolled past me when I recognized something that didn't quite sound right.

I rolled up to the entrance ramp for South Bound Highway 100 from Glenwood. The light was red and cars were slowing down for the light. I rolled up to the light passing cars in the right turn lane when I spotted the Focus again. As the tires slowed to a stop, I recognized the source.

The good-Samaritan kicked in and I approached the rear of the car. Spotted the toddler in the car seat, noticed the driver's side window open a crack in the rain. I tapped on the window and said: "Your rear tire is flat!"

She looked at me with a look of being mildly annoyed with my interruption of her phone call. Cigarette in her left hand, cell phone lowered from her ear in her right hand.

"The rear one on my side... Yeah, I know."

The light turned green and off down the entrance ramp she sped.

I did what I could. She was obviously not very concerned with her own personal health, safety, or that of the young one in the back seat.

It made me think about piloting a vehicle at freeway speeds in the rain. A vehicle with a flat tire (down to the rim I might add) with which hand? The one with the cigarette or the one with the cell phone.

Me, well... It made me think about how I will take my chances on the comparatively quieter city streets on my bicycle. I had a lovely ride home in the rain.

Letter to an Adversarial Friend

Dear Winter;

It has been a long hard-fought battle but I think I have finally kicked your ass.

Sincerely,
Spring.

The driverless car.

It was a sunny and pleasant morning for a ride. So much so, I decided to take a more recreational route to work. Being a Monday and having made a weekend trip to load up on food supplies, my bike was loaded down. Full panniers and a Rubbermaid tote full, strapped to the top of my rack. The bike was HEAVY, but it felt SO good to ride.

I made it a point to greet every cyclist I saw with a “hello” or “good morning.” I was in a great mood. For the record, I received approximately a 50% return rate on greetings. The combination of sun, bicycle, and not wanting to actually GO to work, I would have preferred to ride for much longer. Having stretched the route as much as I thought being fair, I experimented with a “legal” route across a section of railroad tracks that parallel a main bicycle trail. Here's a link to a quiet neighborhood connection over the tracks, over 394

http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/134141

Once on Glenwood Ave, I was back on home-commute-turf. Just riding along, when I had a brush with fame. Passed by a car, too close for comfort. I’m very well conditioned to riding within close proximity to traffic, but this “felt” different. I know I wasn’t truly “brushed” but I KNOW I could have easily put a hand out and touched the car. I looked through the back window of the car to see if I could catch eye contact with the driver. (Secretly hoping too that the driver would give me some sort of apologetic look.)

What did I find? No driver, the car was traveling down the road without anyone in the driver’s seat!!!? My amazement was quickly quelled as she sat upright once again. Evidently she must have been digging for something on the passenger side. Glad that I was not riding much more than a couple of inches to the left or I would have severely slowed her progress.

What kind of car, a Saab of course. Which, is another confirmation of my theory on Saabs.

Perspective is Everything

One never knows of the joys one will find while perched upon the top of a bicycle saddle.

With seemingly undecided spring temperatures, it has been a challenge to make sure to carry enough clothing options to stay warm enough in the morning, and have an option to be comfortable in the higher afternoon temperatures. On Tuesday afternoon, I was on my way home. I had failed to pack a pair of knee-warmers, so I was over-dressed in a pair of heavy tights. I was riding slowly to keep from getting hot climbing a slight hill when I made eye contact with a young boy (maybe 8 or 10) on the sidewalk. I smiled and said hello as I approached. He smiled in return and simply said gleefully: “I peed my pants”

Yup, he had.

I found myself laughing about that the rest of my way home. It had reminded me of a situation I encountered the week earlier when we went out to dinner as a family. I stepped into the men’s room. As I opened the door, there was a young boy playing in the water of the urinal. He looked startled that I had entered the room, sheepishly smiled and walked out of the restroom (evidently back to dinner?) I laughed as I thought to myself about how the conversation at the table when he got back might go: “Little Johnny, can you hand your mom a slice of fresh bread?”

After posting yesterday about cyclists violating traffic laws, I have been overly aware of my own actions. Interestingly, on my way, I witnessed traffic enforcement in Minneapolis. In the almost 11 years I have been riding to/from work in my neck of the woods, I have never seen a car pulled over. Yesterday, I witnessed 3. An officer was standing along Plymouth Avenue with a radar gun that happened to flag down the car behind me, evidently for speeding.
I actually really appreciate the increased traffic enforcement, particularly along my primary cross-town connection. The speed limit is 30, but few cars adhere to that limit.

Good Reading.

There was a sensationalized “investigative” story on the local news station last night about bicycles running stop signs. Days prior to story airing, members of both Minneapolis Bike Love and Minnesota Off Road Cyclists had pages of discussions. Cyclists defending the behavior of violating laws in the name of self-righteous moral justification and for reasons of self-preservation.

Here’s the link to the story and the reactions of several people:
http://kstp.com/article/stories/s428366.shtml?v=1

Sadly, I think the story and reaction to it will do nothing in the way of promoting cycling as a viable transportation alternative. Sadly, this story somewhat disheartens me. I think I am going to go ride my bike.

Magnificent Difference

With my unexpected early return from Iowa on Saturday, I had a full Sunday to unpack and get things back in order. I did some maintenance work on the Quickbeam switching it back to full on commuter duty again. Funny when I write that considering the only change that I made to the bike was to install an easier gear. Back to my normal 42 chainring up front and 18t cog in back.

For late April, I wouldn't expect the temperature to be quite as chilly as it has been. It was only 28 degrees this morning when I left for work. On the road, it felt so amazing to be back on my bike.

Since the adventure in Iowa was cut so short, my legs felt 100% this morning. With the normal gear on, I was flying (for me) to work. The difference between the amount of energy I put out to go so quickly compared to Saturday when I was going SO SLOW was simply amazing. It felt good to open it up a bit, pedal and go fast, throw caution to the wind and just ride. No concern about having to save some energy for a weekend long ride.

I'm free. While I make it a point to enjoy every ride, I can truly ride for fun now. Feeling in the best shape of my life, I wonder where I should go? How many hours can I get away with being gone? What areas can I explore?