Monday, April 18, 2011

Big Wheels Keep On Turnin'

I've been thinking about riding my Capo down the Oregon Coast. North to south. My goal is three days. There are 360ish miles on the Oregon Coast. That means that I have to ride 120ish miles a day...on a fixie. So I went for a quick spin today on the Johnson Road Loop. That loop is 20 miles. I rode that in an hour and twenty minutes. I figure that at that pace, I should only have to be on the bike about 7 hours a day--give or take. It seems more manageable when I think of 120 miles in those terms. Just 20 miles at a time. So, much of what you hear from me from here on out will be looking forward to that. Lots of gear reviews especially. I hope you enjoy.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Whiskey For My Men and Beer For My Bikes

Remember those whiskey barrels that I carried home with my bicycle? Well, I cut 'em in half and I filled 'em with dirt...arrrgh. (For some reason I was thinking this is something a pirate might say, but then it occurred to me that maybe an Irish accent would be more appropriate.) Oh, I also put them on caster wheels so that I can roll them around real easy-like. There are some radishes growing in one of them already. Monday I was pulling my Burley down ninth and I saw a shop that was called Green Leaf. I thought it might be some sort of indoor-gardening store and I thought they might have the potting soil that I was interested in. Sure enough, those folks had exactly what I was looking for and more. They had all sorts of fancy equipment that I could use to grow stuff inside. They even had these television systems with video cameras, so I could monitor what kind of folks was showing up on my doorstep. You never know who might be coming to get your vegetables! They didn't actually have the security systems. That was a joke. You maybe get the point, though. This so called "Green Leaf" store is catering to a very particular demographic. The fellow, Hopi was his name, gave me a ten percent discount. I thought that was awful nice of him. If you're a "dude-bro", go support Green Leaf on Ninth and Wilson.

So I got 120 pounds of dirt put in my trailer and I left for Parr Lumber to get some hardware. Fortunately when my rear wheel fell off it was pretty obvious and I was able to stop quickly. Fortunately it's only the second time my rear wheel has chosen to go it's own way...this year. It is really not that bad. The wheel hasn't actually come completely off. It's just popped out of the dropouts and stopped my bike. I just tightened up my quick-release skewers and continued on, but the thought is always in the back of mind, "so what happens when this same problem occurs at 25mph down Reed Market?" No biggie.

I got my casters and went home with no greater event. Now my radishes are happily growing and we have a big tray of various vegetable starts that we started from seed sitting in our windowsill. It's cold enough that I'm shopping around for leg warmers still, though, so it's too cold to plant most of those vegetables in my barrels. When that day comes, I promise to post some pictures.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Brave or Stupid?

Despite baring my knees for the rest of the season, the cold and snow and icy morning commutes have come back. The weather can't fool me, though. The longer days and the warmth of the sun, despite a crispness to the air, are all tell-tale signs of spring and warmer weather to come. That said, I have been thinking about purchasing a set of leg warmers for the early morning rides. I just haven't run across any that fit well.

My friend Chris (he rides his bike a lot, too) told me that he saw another bike commuter on his way to work the other morning. He said that it was good to see the other guy out there riding his blue Scott bike. He said it was good to see the other guy out there because you don't often have company for questionable weather and early morning rides. The same experience happened for me on Thursday morning at about 6:30. Some guy was entering the Reed Market roundabout a quarter-turn behind me. I waved at him and smiled. "We're not alone out here," I said to my faithful steed. We trotted the rest of the way to work and I got distracted by many, many things.

This morning's reflections jogged my memory, though.Year round commuting is lonely. I mean, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm addicted to it...but there are days when it is very lonely. On those days cars are no longer vehicles driven by people, but hideous machines that are out to destroy anything that gets in their path. Often you play games with yourself for motivation to keep going. To keep riding. Mostly the games that I play have to do with not falling and not getting run over by cars while my feet are dragging in eight inches of snow with each pedal stroke and the shoulder is only two inches wide and half-ton machines are zipping by at 30-plus mph. It's funny to read, but really more of a serious game when you're actually playing it. It is not a game that I would recommend for everyone. Oh, and did I mention that you usually have to play alone. No chatting on the cell-y tell-y for your commute to work anymore...

Despite these mind-games, when I get to work, the adrenaline rush overtakes the fear and pain from the commute and makes me want to do it again. People have often said to me, "I don't know whether to think you're brave or stupid." To which I have many-times replied , "Oh, it isn't that bad. You just have to get out there and do it." Which is mostly true, but thinking back, I have ridden on days that I ask myself the same "brave or stupid" question. From my point of view it is neither. I am very grateful for the warmer weather and less snow. I mentioned that the roads were icy the last couple of mornings. I'll be honest: I wasn't looking forward to riding on slippery roads. You can't just enjoy the scenery when you are riding on ice. You have to be completely focused. It takes as much out of me mentally as it does physically.

As a reprise, I love the challenge of riding through the winter. I hope that me riding daily inspires other people to ride daily, because it is often lonely in the darker, colder months. That said, I am glad spring has sprung and bike commuters are rejoining Chris and I more and more.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

My Inner-Monologue on Rich People

My friend Paul gave me a statistic today. Most bike commuters are lower and middle class. I think that makes sense. If I could afford expensive cars and high-end electronics, I probably wouldn't have time to ride my bike. I'd be too busy talking to clients on my cellphone and doing important stuff to stimulate the economy.

I was thinking very cynically about this on my ride home tonight. "Look at all these rich people in their large Sport Utility Vehicles," I thought. Then my conscience spoke, "You're not better than them, you know." This is often a struggle I run into as a bike commuter. The idea tries to creep in that I'm somehow better than the non-cyclist commuter. It's really just insecurity coming through. I feel like the little weird-o out there, riding in the cold who doesn't have enough money to drive a car. It's not that these things are true (well, I don't think they are anyway), but it's how I imagine the guy in the lifted one-ton Chevy Silverado perceives me. I think that he thinks that I'm some poor freak who can't make enough to drive, so I ride my bike. Of course, these assumptions are mostly ridiculous, but it's the train that I catch my sub-conscious on every now and then.

The revelation came today that we are all a lot of people running around on grids that we've made and we all have our transportation tastes. Some people are in it for the efficiency (most people, really) and some, like myself, are in it for the scenery. I'll sacrifice some comfort and efficiency to see the scenery, to breathe the air, to live. It's my thing. It isn't for everyone. And that's o.k. Besides I have a thing for big trucks.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Flying On A Kid's Bike

Matt Priest - Welcome To Amity from Mike King on Vimeo.

I just ran across this video today. Maybe not everyone wants to fly, but I certainly do. Watching videos like this gives me butterflies in my stomach and makes my palms sweat. When you fly, failure is not a sustainable option.  You are aware of the consequences, but you push them to the very back of your mind to a place where they cannot effect your commitment to the takeoff. In this world governed by gravity it is the takeoff that is key to successful flight. Botch the takeoff and the landing will be hard.

I'm still trying to figure out how to fly. If you're going to fly, you have to give everything that you are to the art. Matt Priest didn't just wake up one morning with the ability to fly on a kids bike, he put countless hours into practicing the takeoffs. Sometimes the landings were hard. The same with CEO's and entrepreneurs--in developing their companies and corporations, they have spent many hours investing in their flight. It's chasing after the dream, not accepting the present--grounded reality, but striving for something bigger, something more...not status-quo. We all have a dream. I guess we have to pursue it in order to learn how to fly.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Who Wears Short Shorts?

This too is a fixie.

My mother-in-law and sister-in-law were in town with us last week and we went for a walk... only I rode this unicycle. The next day I got a hair cut and shaved my beard off. I guess that's what happens when you ride a unicycle.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Don't Argue With Me, I'm Wrong

Kalea and I drove to Roseburg on Sunday. On Monday we road a 15 mile loop, through wine country. On Tuesday we road a 28 mile loop through sheep pasture land. The weather on Tuesday was perfect. So perfect that wearing my bike shorts left me with a bike short tan. Tan lines are sexy. Especially when they are super contrasting-like the one that I get mid-thigh from my bike shorts. There's white and then there's tan. I feel the same about a good farmer's-tan, as well.

On Tuesday when we did the 28 mile ride, it was really only supposed to be a 22 mile ride. I accidentally missed a turn off, though. My faithful wife stayed with me the whole way even though she was pretty sure we had taken a wrong turn somewhere. I told her that even though it was painful, she would be proud of herself when she made it back to the car and relaxed for  a bit. I was right. She cussed me in the car, but once we got home she was gleeful about riding the second-furthest distance that she's ever ridden on a bicycle in one go. For the record, that's the only time I've been right about a disagreement we've had on this trip. She's been right the rest of the time. Like when I couldn't remember the name of the bank that I was supposed to go to. I was certain that she was wrong about the name having the word "Cascade" in it. Well, it did have that word in it. Then there was the time that I thought the route that we took was not as long as it was and she had guessed the distance within a mile and a half. I told her she was wrong, but she was really more right than I.

I learned that being wrong is not such a bad thing. Just like the pain that you feel after sitting on your bike saddle for 30+ miles, making mistakes is good for you. Not only does it build character, it develops strength. The more times I'm wrong, the less it hurts to admit that I'm wrong. I think that's why God let's me be wrong so much and why He gave me such a smart wife.

On Wednesday we let our legs heal up a bit and visited with family and drove to the coast. We'll ride probably go for a ride and find a place to camp for the night. Then we'll drive back to Bend. I'll probably be wrong again before we get home and that's okay.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Lederhosen and Woolen Knee-Highs

I made up my mind a few days ago. It's March, so I'm not going to wear pants anymore. Tuesday I dug my favorite pair of Columbia shorts out (the ones with two holes in the backside from being atop a bicycle) and I put them on with the intention of wearing them (shorts in general, that is) until winter comes next year. The first day of spring is not until the twentieth, I know, but I thought I'd get a head start this year. 

Now, you may be wondering how I'm able to get such a head start on my shorts-wearing season when it is still so frigid out. Easy. I wear knee-high Smartwool socks. Yesterday morning I rode to work and the temperature was 22 degrees. "Not a problem," I thought to myself. "I'll just throw on a set of knee-highs." For riding this is my favorite combination. A thick Woolrich wool shirt tucked into my shorts completes the German ensemble very well. All I need now are a set of red suspenders and a funny hat. I'm not joking. 
This is not a picture of me. My lederhosen are shorter. Much shorter. 
I think the Bavarian people had something here. We all know the style is incredible, but it's the practicality of the outfit that astounds me. Long rides are no longer a problem with lederhosen. You have an increased range of motion. You don't get chafing in your knee-caps. You have exceptional breathability, but warmth (with the knee-highs) enough to endure frigid mountain temperatures. Need I say more? 

When you are purchasing proper lederhosen (or just shorts) for cycling, one thing to keep in mind is the size of the leg-opening. A larger leg opening on an above-the-knee short (which is what I prefer) can be very refreshing, but also very revealing. A quick ride down a nice steep hill will leave nothing for the imagination unless you wear proper under layers. As an added warning, remove bulky objects, such as keys and cell phones from your pockets as these will further promote exposure especially when your cadence is high. 

I prefer to wear a short with smaller leg openings. I have smaller legs and I need all the help being modest that I can get. In lieu of the short season coming upon us, I purchased a new set of shorts from REI. They are the REI Castle Mountain short. So far, a new favorite. The Castle Mountain lederhosen are made from a blend of cotton, nylon and a scosche of spandex to give some stretch. They have a nine inch inseam and, on the 30" waisted version, the leg openings are small enough to not show my scivies. The pockets are a little long. They stick out the bottom of my shorts when I ride. I kind of like this, though, as it reminds me of my days wearing daisy-dukes (which are certainly not over). These shorts are durable, they dry quickly and are as comfortable as a quinzee hut. 

The one issue that I run into with early season shorts and knee-high socks, is that my kneecaps are exposed to freezing temperatures. Yesterday, when it was 22 degrees, my knees were cold and stiff. To remedy this, many cycling manufacturers have developed thigh-high leg warmers. This is a great option, but can be very costly, especially for a good, soft merino wool model. Someday, maybe I'll purchase a pair of these, but for now, I'll just deal with cold knee caps. After all, it's the middle of March and it's time to show off your lederhosen.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

"L" is for Lubricant

Some of you may have noticed the Daily Fix being a little quiet over the last couple weeks. I guess that's what happens when you have to do a real job, too. It likely comes as a surprise to you that I'm not at home in my underwear with a cup of coffee pondering bicycle frame geometry all day long. No, that's what I do at work...with the addition of pants...usually.

Today's topic is brought to you by Dumonde Tech and by the letter "L". L is for lubrication and that, specifically of bicycle components including the chain. Chain lubrication is by far one of the most beneficial preventative steps to holistic health for your bicycle. A well-lubricated chain will drastically improve the lifespan of your entire drive-train. There are a lot of different chain lubricants on the market. I have used several of them, but currently I'm using Dumonde Tech Lite chain lubricant. "Liquid plastic through polymerization forms long lasting coat on all chain surfaces." That's the description on the bottle. Dumonde Tech specializes in lubricants for motorcycles and bicycles and claims to be the longest lasting lube on the market. They specifically instruct the rider to not reapply chain lube until the chain begins to make a sound. I've never heard my chain make this fabled sound, but I decided to take them up on the challenge.

I ride my bike everyday through rain, snow and crushed basalt and I figure, if anyone's going to need to keep their chain lubed it's the year-round bike commuters. Two weeks later, after lubing my chain with Dumonde Tech Lite, I started to hear a squeaking sound coming from down there. I was a little confused at first, because I haven't actually gone two whole weeks without lubing my chain. The new sound escalated to an unbearable point yesterday and I finally determined that the squeaking down there was, in fact, my parched chain crying out and not a squirrel in my shorts. Today I will be reapplying the Dumonde Tech lube. The chain sound was very obvious and a good "time-to-lube-your-chain" alarm. In the winter I usually go a week before I reapply. Doubling that time is not such a bad thing. It saves lube and it means less bad stuff is seeping into the dirt.

Dumonde Tech also makes a lubricant called Bio-Green which is a plant-based lubricant. I have used it in the past, but I'll have to pull it out again and see how long I can go between lubes with the all-natural stuff. Whether you use Dumonde Tech's product or not. It is imperative that you lube your chain...for your sanity and that of your friends.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Yeah, I'm All Lit Up Again

I was taking my time getting ready this morning. I was certain I had to be to work at 9:45. My schedule disagreed and claimed 9:30. I called my manager to warn them of my mistake. I hung up the phone and my front tire deflated, the first flat I have had in a couple of years. My faithful bike and I limped the rest of the way to work. Only half an hour tardy. It's important to have days like this. It reminds me that I'm human. Actually, the whole last week was kind of a reminder of that.

On the bright side, I received my new headlights from NiteRider today. I tried them out on the way home from the CSA and was pleasantly surprised by the view that I had. Kind of like daylight. I'll try to take some video sometime soon to demonstrate the output. It's pretty amazing. More soon.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The Circus Freaks Are Here

Trials riding is hard. Danny MacAskill makes it look easy.
You don't have to like cycling to respect what Danny is doing. It's beautiful and it's genius. It's also kind of weird if you think about it. I mean, who climbs up onto a castle with a bicycle that doesn't even have usable seat and then jumps off again? And what about the riding on one wheel thing? The bike has two perfectly good, usable wheels for a reason, right?  This guy makes it poetry, though. It's for others to enjoy. It's entertainment. That's what makes the circus so enjoyable. People who decided to do what everyone else is doing and get a real job get to sit and watch freaks do things that they, themselves wish they could do. Who doesn't want to ride a unicycle across a tight rope while juggling? I sure do. Seriously.

In fact, today was another pleasant day and I was feeling antsy, so I decided to pump up the tire on one of my unicycles and find my balance again. I felt pretty goofy trying to get going on it. Someday I want to ride it down the street while juggling. I also want to ride it to work. Besides being an incredible work out riding a unicycle is one of those things that's...well...unique. There aren't too many people out there that can say they can ride a unicycle well. I can't ride it well, but I can ride it to the end of the alley and back without stopping. I actually got off once today because an Asian man driving a Japanese car was so confused by the Caucasian riding a one wheeled fixie past his house, that he forgot to stop. I hopped off before I ran into the bank of snow piled up against the fence and allowed the gaping Asian to pass.

The truth of the matter is, I think he has the right to stare. This is part of life. There are people who follow the broad road, forsaking their dreams. And then there are circus freaks. Danny MacAskill probably falls under the circus freak category. I definitely do. 

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Four-Plexes and Enchiladas

The chicken enchiladas that I just finished were the perfect end to a good day. They were well earned, too, in my opinion. I pulled the trailer into work this morning at 6:40. I thought about how pleasant the weather was. I thought about my scarf flopping around in the wind. My legs felt strong and the trailer felt light. Work was a breeze. I drank coffee and built bicycles. I rode the bikes that I built around the Old Mill in the pleasant weather. I thought about my new Niterider headlights that are coming in the mail shortly.

It's easy to lose yourself in your thoughts when you are truing wheels and disc-brake rotors. My thoughts were disrupted at three, when I realized it was time to pull the grocery-getter over to Mother's and help out at the CSA. I handed out produce shares to 90-ish people who are interested in supporting local farmers. I rode home with my own share in tow. I observed that, by the end of the day, my legs do not feel as strong. The air, however, felt pleasant. My thoughts roamed around some more. I thought about the low-income neighborhood that I was riding through. I thought about what kind of people might live in those buildings, the duplexes and four-plexes backed up against the railroad tracks. All those people are living in a reality that is probably somehow similar to my own, but at the same time is so far away.

I blinked and I was home. My flashing lights and Jesus had been predictably faithful in escorting me safely home. I thought about how, no matter how tired I am, riding bikes is always worth it. Especially when there are enchiladas as a reward.

Friday, February 25, 2011

And the Winner Is...

John Furrow of Bend, OR is the winner of February's cycling story of the month contest. He will be enjoying his one pound of Backporch coffee while cruising around in his brand new Lamborghini Diablo. Now you wish you would have sent a story don't you. It's o.k., there will be plenty more chances. I didn't actually give him a Lamborghini, though. Just the coffee, which is in his box at work (if you were wondering, John). For your enjoyment today, here is John's story:

Circa 1988, I came home from my early morning job at UPS.  My brother was asleep… ok, passed out on the couch.  Next to the couch was a beautiful new black shiny Schwinn mountain bike.  I heard our friend Scott had just bought a new mountain bike, but this was the first time seeing one in person.  I’m sure it was a tough decision for Scott to allow his brand new mountain bike to leave his apartment underneath a sloshed helmsman, but that’s what friends are for. Too bad Scott didn’t think far enough ahead to see me staring at that bike, knowing that bike was yearning for first dirt, wanting someone to ride it where Scott would never be able to.
No more than a half mile to the west of the house was the Phoenix Mountain Preserve, a collection of rocky desert peaks.  In clear sight was a streak of gray, dropping directly down from the top of the closest peak.  The gray streak cascaded roughly 200 feet down to the highest trail. This would be my test run.  Mountain bikes, I’d heard, were good at rolling downhill over steep and rocky terrain.  I’d even seen pictures in magazines!
It took me no time flat to crest the top of the trail on the shiny new bike.  I banked left and up the gray streak only to sink four inches deep in talus.  Turns out, my test run would be more challenging than I thought.  Not one to be deterred by common sense or succumb to better judgment, I hoisted the bike up the 50+ degree talus “streak.”  With every step I seemed to slide down two, yet I was determined to reach the summit and let gravity work her magic as I would soon be flying down this monument in full glory on a shiny new Schwinn.  I was forced to stop just shy of the summit as the peak itself jutted up 15 feet of near vertical rock. Out of breath, I turned around on the river of scree and gazed down hungrily at my playground.
Adrenaline has a way of rationalizing insanity.  My first mountain bike ride was to be an epic downhill thrill ride. Trying to mount a bike on such a steep slope is rather tricky and committing.  A few awkward attempts went by before I figure it out.  The next attempt would be the start of a huge descent.  Leaping on and hammering the pedals, mouth agape, I swiftly surfed downward.  Soon however, my feet could not keep up with the Schwinn.  Barreling out of control, the front tire trenched deep into the scree, catapulting me over the bike.  Before I could think, “this was a bad idea,” I was somersaulting through sharp schist with the shiny black Schwinn right behind me.
The bike and I walked home with lots of injuries that morning.  It was no longer shiny or new.  I wonder if Scott has a full suspension bike now…

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Men's Sufferage

The call came as a relief. The time was 6:28 and Jonathan was calling to tell me he didn't sleep well and was running late. I hadn't slept great either. It was taking me longer to sort my climbing gear than I expected. There was a lot to remember. Ice tools, crampons, harness, boots, climbing helmet, skis, poles, ski boots, Jelly Belly's and water--to name a few. I packed it all neatly into the grocery-getter and embarked on another adventurous day.

I'm not sure how he talked me into it. Jonathan has a way of convincing me to do things that I wouldn't normally pick to do on my day off work. Suffering in the cold for hours while belaying him up rotten ice is never what I envision myself doing on a free day. Don't get me wrong, I ALWAYS enjoy the suffering. That's part of why I ride my bike everywhere. So, he talked me into it last night. I think he probably slipped me a roofie or something. I consented, potentially un-willfully, and we made our journey out to Cougar Crag, where we always go to suffer when the weather is questionable. After skiing a mile and a half and then slogging through deep snow and manzanita up an endless hill, we reached our destination. My feet felt like beams of frozen steel. My hands were getting the screaming barfies every 15 minutes or so and spindrift kept spraying me in the face. I had a blast.

My ride back to my house took a long time. The forty pounds of gear felt heavier than when I left. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, though.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Getting High and Robbing Trains

Who needs skiing when you can ride your bike in the snow? This video, though, makes me want to fly.

After watching this today my thought was, "Well, I'd sure like to experience flying like that, but I don't really want the consequence of failing at that height and speed." And then it occurred to me that part of the thrill, part of the excitement with flying is that it is dangerous. There are consequences. I wonder what it is about human nature that makes us want to take risks? Any thoughts? Most people don't take risks because they know they might be able to get hurt. Most people don't like getting hurt. I don't like getting hurt. Lot's of people have dreamed of flying, though. People like wind rushing past their face and being high (you know what I mean!). I put together a little video of myself flying home from work today. The bandanna is to keep my lungs warm. Not for robbing trains. Enjoy.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Got Me Under Pressure

I just spent the last hour on Sheldon Brown's site reading about bicycle tires. Well, part of the time I was watching videos about how to pick bike locks. Sheldon Brown had posted a video about how to get around a U-lock by just cutting through the wheel of the bike. This got me thinking about bike locks that I sell and how easy it might be to get through one, so I watched a bunch of lock-picking videos and can now probably pick any lock you put in front of me. Have no fear, though, I have way too many other hobbies already to add bicycle theft to the mix. Not to mention the moral dilemma that it may pose for me...

So I was sliding all over the place on my bike last week, even with studs on my tires. I knew that lowering my tire pressure would actually help with this problem because it would cause my tire to better take the shape of the surface that it was on, but I had never tried it. Really I've just been lazy about it. I mean, when I leave my house at 6:30 in the morning, I just want to jump on my bike and go. I don't want to have to worry about changing tire pressure or making sure my seat is straight or making sure my wheels are properly secured to my bicycle. I learned this week, more than once (unfortunately), that attending to these things at least once in awhile can increase my chances of staying on top of my bike. For example, when I was riding to Mother's to volunteer at our CSA, one of my trailer wheels fell off. Kind of a bummer on Reed Market with traffic zipping by at ridiculous speeds (you know, 30ish mph...).   I parked my bike and trailer and went back and got my prodigal wheel. It was in the grass on the side of the road. I found out that the tire fell off because the skewer had somehow loosened up... alot. I tightened it down, traffic was still zipping by, and re-installed it on the grocery-getter. Not a problem. It could have been, though. 

Another example of a time that I should have attended to my equipment happened last week when I fell on the ground when I was trying to turn into my driveway (there was ice involved). In this example, my rear wheel fell off. This is not a good sign. I'm not sure why it fell off, but I can tell you, that anytime your tire is loose enough to come off with a minimal impact crash, something much worse could have happened. It didn't, though, and that's good. 

To tie this all in with bicycle tire pressure: I decided on Sunday, before I left for church that I would try lowering my tire pressure to improve traction. Sheldon Brown has a big long scientific summary of tires on his site if you're interested. My version is going to be much shorter. So, I lowered the pressure and rode to church. I didn't fall down on the treacherously icy roads. That's good. It really made a huge difference, though. I couldn't ride as fast (and maybe that's part of why I felt more stable), but I felt a much greater level of control. Now, confidence doesn't necessarily equal safety, but in this case I think there was certainly a safety improvement. I'll definitely take the time to lower tire pressure on snowy days now...and maybe I'll check and make sure my wheels are actually attached to my bike. We'll see.

Monday, February 21, 2011

A Friendly Reminder

For those of you who have a fond memory of riding bikes, past or present, email it to me before Thursday night at midnight. Backporch coffee goes to the best story. Here are the official contest rules:

Now it's your turn. I want to hear your most wicked awesome cycling story. In 500 words or less, send me your favorite cycling story and you will have a chance to win one pound of Backporch Coffee. Any type of cycling adventure will do. Stories will be judged on creativity, writing style, flow, epic-ness and many other things that I haven't thought of yet (don't worry, I'll have Kalea read them, too. She's more fair than I more ways than one). Send entries to All entries must be received by Thursday, February 24th, no later than 11:59 p.m. One story will be selected and featured in a Daily Fix post. The author will receive roughly a weeks-supply of Backporch Coffee. Good luck to all!

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Swirly Chaos

I opened the blinds at 7:30 a.m. To my surprise there was four inches of fresh snow blanketing the several that was already accumulated from earlier in the week. New snow was swirling between our house and the neighbor's chaotically. Usually these conditions are exciting for me. I like the challenge of trying to stay upright when my tires are being squirrely underneath me. That challenge is not quite so appealing when you don't sleep well and your head is demonstrating symptoms of a cold. I did it anyway. The ride was the standard epic snow-ride and only one person called me an f-ing idiot. I consider that a pretty good ride. Here's a picture of my truck. Kalea picked me up from work... That's why I'm smiling. I'll rest and report back soon. Enjoy your weekend.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Ice Cream Bike or Hipster Killer?

It's a funny juxtaposition--a disproportionately large delivery truck sharing an alley with a relatively small delivery bike. "This is my morning everyday," says Daniel Brewster as we pedal through a parking lot and into the alley. Brewster is owner and rider of Cascade Couriers, a bicycle delivery service in Bend, Oregon. "The trucks are clogging the alley and I can just ride around them." He makes his delivery of pastries to Lone Pine Coffee, likely one of the places where the delivery trucks delivered their products. The time is just shy of 7 a.m. and Daniel and I have been riding for almost an hour.
This is Daniel's delivery bike.

Compared to a large delivery truck, Daniel's delivery bike cannot carry very much--a few tubs of pastries and a couple dozen baguettes and him. Except for the extra large fiberglass delivery container on the front (Don't call it an ice-cream bike, by the way. Daniel hates it, when you call it an ice-cream bike), it's really just a normal bike. Though small in stature, the bike is a machine (no pun intended). It is capable of handling 200 pounds and Daniel says he has carried around 400 pounds, fully loaded with The Source Weekly, a local newspaper. It is surprisingly stable on snow and ice, though the small front wheel makes it difficult to maneuver in chunky snow conditions. One day this year with a light load, he even laid it down in a corner on some ice. The bike slid all the way into the other lane. On the bright side, it was early enough that traffic was really light still. 

The lights are coming on.
Daniel orders a 16 ounce mocha at Thump Coffee. We have to wait for Sparrow Bakery to finish with some pastries, so that we can take those to Bread LaVoy. The break is welcome as my fingers are a little chilly in my Black Diamond fleece gloves. Daniel's mocha arrives graced with a beautifully poured Rosetta. "We are looking into getting a Sprinter van that runs off bio-diesel that we can use to expand our business to all of Central Oregon," he says. He sips his mocha. "It isn't practical for us to deliver by bike, exclusively." Cascade Couriers employs two other riders part-time and has been a presence in Central Oregon for several years. The company started with a composting service that picked up compost from households throughout Central Oregon. The compost was taken to Fields Farm, east of Bend--all by bicycle. Sometimes the trailers could be loaded with upwards of 500 pounds of compost. Though composting is no longer a part of Cascade Courier's service, the bike delivery service is as busy as ever. Along with bakery goods, they deliver legal documents, mail, produce from the farmer's market and they now even offer a lunch delivery service. Daniel finishes his mocha and we put our helmets and gloves back on. It's time to ride again.

Enough said.
Out in the cold once again, I ask him what his biggest pet peeve is. He says that when he's riding, he tries to keep a positive attitude. "I just try to give people room, because that's what I hope they will give me." We discuss the concept of people generally being more scared around us (cyclists) than we are around them. I fight for breath as we talk about our favorite interactions with motorists. He says people always cut close to him at the intersection of Colorado and Arizona. We arrive at Sparrow once again to pick up another load of pastries. We'll make a couple more stops before my time with Daniel ends. Though the temperature didn't climb above 25 degrees on our two and a half hour ride together, I was warm from riding and the excitement of taking new routes and meeting new people.

I rode home exhilarated. I was wide awake. It felt good to be out so early and in the company of someone with vision. As I was making my last turn into the driveway, my bike slipped out from under me on a patch of ice and I fell for the first time this winter (besides the other time, which was not snow related). The perfect end, to a good morning ride.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Win Some Coffee

Hey You! Send me your favorite personal experience with cycling. Here are the contest rules and stuff:

Now it's your turn. I want to hear your most wicked awesome cycling story. In 500 words or less, send me your favorite cycling story and you will have a chance to win one pound of Backporch Coffee. Any type of cycling adventure will do. Stories will be judged on creativity, writing style, flow, epic-ness and many other things that I haven't thought of yet (don't worry, I'll have Kalea read them, too. She's more fair than I more ways than one). Send entries to All entries must be received by Thursday, February 24th, no later than 11:59 p.m. One story will be selected and featured in a Daily Fix post. The author will receive roughly a weeks-supply of Backporch Coffee. Good luck to all!

Everything Else Stays the Same, It's Me That's Changed

The garage door closes behind me. I'm committed. There are three miles separating me from my place of work and it's just me and my faithful steed (maybe I'll name her one of these days). It used to be that my commute was only one mile. You can walk one mile pretty fast. If there was snow or ice in those days, I would just walk. Sometimes I'd put chains on my shoes called Yak Trax. Often I'd run. For weeks at a time my bicycles would sit lonely, in the garage.

This morning, the three miles separating me from work seem normal. My frozen breath hangs in the air as I fumble to buckle the strap on my helmet. I am standing in six inches of snow, firm and sun-baked. There is poetry in this ritual. The route never really changes. I do, though. What used to feel cold, is cold no longer. My face is used to the feeling of an icy breeze. My hands are well accustomed to numbness. So are my toes. Wet doesn't really bother me either. I always seem to dry out and warm up. When the temperature warms up, I'll trade my pants for shorts, I'll trade my beard for a close shave and I'll still ride. The walking thing isn't nearly as convenient when it takes an hour to get to work compared with the 9-12 minutes it takes on my bike.

When I pedaled off toward work this morning their was some snow and some cold. The bike lanes were mostly large snow-berms, some cars passed me at quite inopportune times. It sure did feel good to be out on my bike, though.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

I Want Your Soul

Now it's your turn. I want to hear your most wicked awesome cycling story. In 500 words or less, send me your favorite cycling story and you will have a chance to win one pound of Backporch Coffee. Any type of cycling adventure will do. Stories will be judged on creativity, writing style, flow, epic-ness and many other things that I haven't thought of yet (don't worry, I'll have Kalea read them, too. She's more fair than I more ways than one). Send entries to All entries must be received by Thursday, February 24th, no later than 11:59 p.m. One story will be selected and featured in a Daily Fix post. The author will receive roughly a weeks-supply of Backporch Coffee. Good luck to all!

CSA Day the Sequel: Riders on the Storm

Hmm... It's pretty nice...I think I'll ride my bike today.

It was windy Sunday night before I crawled into bed at 11. The temperature was just a scosche above 40 degrees--not weather conducive to lots of snow (or so I thought). The weatherman said it was going to snow and I was admittedly disappointed that the weather was not cooperating with his prophecy. To my surprise as I awoke at 4am with a nagging bladder, our room was not dark as normal, but lit up with a soft, even light coming from our windows. Too tired to crack the blinds and check on the weather status, I fell back asleep for another hour. At five I got up to confirmed suspicions. It had snowed a little.

A little turned into a lot when I walked out to shovel the high-water-content snow. My conservative estimate is six inches at 5:30, but I think there was a bit more. The above photo was taken at 6:25 a.m. The pedal that is down is dragging in the snow.

I thought I would leave early to make it to work on time. At 6:30 I left, wearing dry jeans, wool socks, a fleece jacket and a windbreaker. I showed up to work at 7:05 wearing the same thing I was wearing when I left (you were hoping for something more racy, weren't you?) , only it was all soaked through like a used tissue. For a point of reference, it usually takes between 9 and 12 minutes to get to work. In my easiest gear I was pedaling as hard as I could just to keep my bike and trailer moving in the wet, heavy snow. The temperature was around 33 degrees and I was absolutely drenched in the first 5 minutes from exertion.

I pulled onto Brosterhous and rode in the tire track closest the fog line, which was easier to pedal in, but took all my focus to stay righted. This may be metaphorical: When you're riding in a rut, it is easy to stay in the rut, but if you try to exit the rut it is extremely difficult to keep your balance. It took all the mental faculties I had available to keep myself upright. It progressively got worse the closer I got to REI. At the intersection of 3rd and Reed Market, with piles of snow on my feet, I sat at the stoplight in the turn lane admiring the chaos of ruts that was plaguing the area. Some guy a couple cars back rolled down his window and yelled, "Way to go, man!" To which I replied with a smile, "hey..." The fact is, I was mentally preparing myself to eat organic material upon entering this minefield of snowy destruction. I was not a bit focused on the traffic that was fish-tailing all around me. It was me and my bike and my grocery-getter.

The light turned green and I waited for the expected three cars running the red light to slide on through the intersection. I pedaled and slid and pedaled and slid and stayed loose in my saddle, allowing my bike to skitter around beneath me as I kept my eyes focused on the road ahead. I made it through without going down. Relief was only for a moment, however, as I pounded up and over the Reed Market overpass. Reed Market is steep and notoriously rutted in the snow. Today was no different. I tried riding in the first rut, but I was getting tossed about like a leaf in the gale, so I chose the deep snow of the bike lane. This proved infinitely less taxing mentally and I rode the rest of the way to work safe-ish-ly.

I can safely say that this ride was "epic, man." It wins the worst-commuting-conditions-this-year award.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Riding Rocks: My Bike Ride To Revelation

I just couldn’t muster the motivation to drive out to Smith Rock and climb yesterday. Instead, I threw my climbing gear into Kalea’s car and put my bike shorts and jacket on and rode my bike out there. The 30 mile ride took me a little more than an hour and a half. I think I had a bit of a tail wind, because that puts my average speed at about 20 mph. That is kind of fast for a solo ride when there is only one gear to choose from. 
Kalea was out there with some of our friends (I tried to race them, but they were much faster in the car), so I grabbed my climbing pack out of the car, left my bike in the car and ran down into the park to meet them. At this point, it had been drizzling for 15 minutes, or so, and many of Smith’s less hardy climbers were leaving. It seemed like lot’s of folks were looking rather long at me as I approached and passed them clad in cycling shoes, tights, neon yellow jacket, cycling cap and well used climbing pack. Maybe I was just being self conscious because I imagined just how ridiculous I really looked, but I’m pretty sure lots of folks were, at least, really amused by my garish climbing attire. I found my wife and my friends near The Testament Slab where a couple of climbers were working Barbecue the Pope. Bailey and Matt were in between laps on Panic Attack when I showed up. Take cheer, Readers. This scene wasn’t nearly as gruesome nor morbid as it sounds. There were no popes actually being barbecued and Bailey and Matt were perfectly calm as they changed belays. 
After brief conversation (most conversation is fairly brief for me), I put my harness on, flaked the rope, tied in and began an ascent of Revelations. It started raining as I made my way to the first bolt, which is 20ish feet off the deck. Rain is kind of fun to ride in, but it isn’t any fun to climb in. The rock is not nearly as sticky when it’s raining and you kind of get an uncomfortable slippery feeling as you make your way up the rock. I made it to the top with little event and quickly clipped the anchors and was lowered off. It rained more on my way down and then stopped right when Jamie started climbing. I gave her a belay to the top and then we all packed our gear and headed for the car. At this point I didn’t really feel like riding back to Bend, so I just hitched a ride with Kalea and Jamie (Kalea was nice enough to offer). We stopped at the Terrebonne Depot, which I recommend to anyone who hasn’t been there, and I received several longing--er, I mean long looks from patrons as I entered, still clad in tights and a neon jacket. I quickly ordered an ale to re-hydrate and a burger to still my raging hunger. 
I fell asleep on the ride home and woke up at Joshua and Mandy’s where we watched the Cosby show and coddled baby Ezra. That was fun. I think I’ll ride out there again someday.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Two Step Brake Down

I'm learning how to work on bikes. Today I built a bike. It's a cruiser, commuter bike made by Marin called the Stinson. When you work at a bike shop, it's easy to get snobby about bikes. I'm quick to turn my nose up at an "urban" bike. Especially a cheap urban bike. The brakes were hard to adjust. The hubs were rough. It's easy to complain, when you compare this to a bike that's 10 times the price (some people wouldn't blink at a $5000 price tag). Something that I learned today is that if it's the right bike, the rider can have just as much fun on a $500 bike as a $5000 one.

So, my favorite part was the test ride. I took it out across the street and rode it around. I saw some stairs, so I rode down them. The brakes worked fine, the shifting was pretty good and the bike could handle a two stair like it wasn't p**p. Even though the bike isn't spec'd with the latest, greatest components, somebody is going to have fun with it. That's what is important. Ride your bike and enjoy it this weekend.

Friday, February 11, 2011

W and the Fish Tickler

I'm at work (on a break, for those of you concerned about my work ethic). When I rode here this morning, the wind was blowing. When I went outside to help a gal with a car rack install it was blowing. I bet when I go home, it will still be blowing. My friend, Paul, calls it "W." I used to think that he was talking about the former administration, but I learned that it was actually something much more high profile. I think Paul probably got the W reference from David James Duncan. He wrote the book, "The RiVer WHY." It's about finding God in fly-fishing. W is never good, especially when fly-fishing. When presentation is of great importance, it is almost impossible to get your fly to do what you want it to do. Paul is a fisherman. When we go fishing together, he always speaks of W in hushed tones, so as not to bring the curse of it upon our fishing trip.

Fishing is probably the worst sport to do when W is around. Unless you do the old Indian trick of tickling the fishes belly while he is sleeping next to the bank and pull him out with your bare hands. That's pretty easy to do in the wind. The second worst sport to do when it is windy out is bicycle riding. It's only half as bad as fishing though, because sometimes the wind can be to your advantage. I'd say that half of my ride to work was against the wind and the other half was with the wind. When you ride your bike against the wind it feels like you aren't moving sometimes. In these situations, I think about how dumb I look straining to pedal five miles per hour as automobiles fly by at forty. They don't have any problem with W, why should I? I sometimes imagine the fellow in the three ton pickup (that I wish I had) rolling down his window and stopping while I'm pedaling at 0mph and saying to me as I'm still not moving, but straining as if I were, "You oughta get yourself a V12, son. It'll make a whole heck of a lot of difference." Then he rolls up his window, adjusts his Stetson and continues on down the road as if W were non-existent. The other half of the ride was with the wind and that's fun. Especially when it makes you go faster than you think you're going. On a fixie this is problematic because you can't stop pedaling. If you lean into a turn too much, you'll clip a pedal on the downstroke and you'll be on the ground before you can flick a booger (which is pretty dang fast when you're trying to be discreet). Fortunately this didn't happen to me this morning, but it almost did. In these situations I feel dumb, because to bystanders, I would be obviously out of control and appear desperate. I am not desperate.

For the most part, though, I like wind. If it isn't windy you can't fly a kite and you wouldn't have anything to blame for a poor day of fishing. W is pretty cool as long as it's on your side.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

True Dat

Today I trued my wheels on my Capo. What does it mean to be true? "Consistent with reality, not false or erroneous." That's how The Free Dictionary defines it. In this case "reality" is a stationary object on a "truing stand" that sits just a millimeter from the side of the wheel as it spins. Ideally, I should be able to spin my wheel with this stationary reality less than a millimeter away from it and not run into it. It's good to parallel reality closely. It's not good to run into reality. If you run into reality, you are on a a wobbly cycle. Every time you pass this section, you will run into reality. Same place, same problem.

If you have a problem that you are running into (bear with me now, we are still talking about wheels), the solution is tension. You need to tension the wheel on one side and release tension on the other. After you've done this and the problem seems to have gone, it is important that you "stress" the wheel. This is an important component to being true. The wheel needs to be placed under stress to release the wound up tension that is in the spokes. Metaphor? Absolutely. You may have to go back and do the tension thing again because, when placed under stress, problems are revealed that you couldn't see before (I should stop now. This is too good).

Some days I can relate to this metaphor a lot. Some days I feel wobbly. Some days I feel tension. Some days I feel under stress. It's just a part of the road to being true I guess. I can run from it or I can embrace it. The great part about a true wheel is it is strong. Really strong. Strong enough to stand up to the abuse that these guys put them through:

So I trued my wheels, which didn't actually take much effort, because they were pretty true to begin with. Then I rode home and thought about my wheels and all the stress that I put them through. They have always been good to me. For that, I am grateful.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Stop Signs: A Cyclist's Secret Sin

I follow a blog called BikePortland. There have been a bunch of updates on their site recently of proposed House Bills that would affect Oregon cyclists. One Bill in particular that was interesting to me was a proposal to lower the fine for cyclists not stopping at stop signs. The proposed Bill would lower the fine from $240 to $40. Another Bill is proposing that the fine be based on vehicle weight. $180 for vehicles grossing 1000 pounds or less (bicycles and motorcycles). $360 for vehicles weighing between 1000 and 6000 pounds and $540 for vehicles over 6000 pounds.

The thing that sobered me was the $240 fine that HAS been in effect for cyclists. I'll be honest, there have been some quiet mornings when I have failed to stop at a stop sign. Starting my day off less $240 would not be good. Well, neither would getting run over by a motor-vehicle. Bicycle law has always been gray for most folks. They don't teach it in the driver safety courses. You don't have to learn it when you learn to ride a bike. You either know it because you were interested in finding out what your "rights" as a cyclist were or because, as a motorist, you were interested in having munitions to mow down the spandex wearing, three abreast riding, carbon fiber steed-ed cyclists who are much too cool for school and certainly too cool for laws (I have similar sentiments, but as I ride more, I have gotten to know some great people who are "roadies" and they are very much law abiding, spandex-wearing cyclists). The point here is, it would benefit both motorists and cyclists if everyone was informed on cycling law.

Here's my rule of thumb: If I'm on my bike on a road with much traffic then I abide by the same rules that motorists do. I stop at stop lights. I signal when I am turning and changing lanes. I try not to exceed the speed limit (it is possible sometimes). It is frustrating as a cyclist when motorists treat me as a pedestrian. An example is when I am waiting to cross a road that has no traffic control device for cross street traffic and a motorist stops to let me go across. This is particularly dangerous when there are four lanes of traffic. More often than not traffic coming from the opposite direction has no clue that I am waiting to cross and will continue driving, leaving the stopped motorist to awkwardly wait while traffic backs up behind him. I have actually waved cars on because I'm so annoyed that they are waiting for me. Let me clarify. It's nice that they are waiting for me, but it is dangerous for me to cross because if they are waiting, my view is often obstructed of the rest of traffic that may be coming. It's not that I mind people being nice. That is, of course, a good thing. As a motorist, it is important that I treat cyclists as a motorist. Same laws and such. As a cyclist, I need to act like a motorist.

This said, I think that the penalties for cycling sins should be the same as for motorists. After all, they're all the same in God's eyes.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Unto Us a Son Is Given

Ezra Reynvaan was born today. This morning at 5:20. What a crazy miracle. Life. I have had the privilege of being close to Ezra's father, Joshua, for over ten years now and it is breathtaking to see a son born to him. Babies are cute and nice and cuddly and stuff, but this is a totally different revelation. This is the revelation of two becoming one. This is the revelation of new life. This is promise. It's the beginning of eternity. And we are so quick to get caught up in our lives devoid of this revelation.

I was at the hospital when Ezra was born this morning. I heard his first cries. The sign of life this side of the womb. The sign of oxygen entering his lungs. I held his 45 minute-old body in my arms. He felt small and in need of support and love, but at the same time there was a strength. Despite all odds, through the joining of two human beings purposed for each other, this being fought his way into existence. He purposed himself to life. Though unbelievably small, he is incredibly brave and strong. You can not convince me that Ezra happened by chance. You cannot convince me that he is a product of evolution.

Usually I ride my bike home as fast as I can. Tonight, I rode slow. I breathed deep of the cool winter air. I rode down empty streets upright in my saddle, hands resting on my knees and thoughts drifting towards the gift that is life. That's why I ride bikes. For me, it's a reminder of who I am. It's a reminder that there is life and hope and purpose. Breathe deep tonight. You're alive.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Cowboy Criticism and Cycling For Centuries

Today I donned spandex shorts for a short ride out China Hat Rd. to Bessie Butte. This was the first day this year that I have bared my legs. Fortunately only gun toting cowboys pulling trailers full of 2-stroke motorcycles behind big trucks with mustaches saw me. Not that I have anything against folk carrying weaponry--I actually am fond of it and mustaches...the world would not be the same without mustaches! Oh how I love them. The unfortunate part about riding out China Hat Rd., by the way, here is a picture of our route:

View Larger Map

Anyway, the unfortunate part is that I think some of these cowboys don't appreciate cyclists on the roads that they are spending good tax money on. In show of their disinterest, they don't slow from their 70 mph speed and they don't cross the double yellow line (even when there is no oncoming traffic). I'm sorry that it is like this and that people don't respect people that are interested in different things than themselves. I'm sure I'm like that too, though. I want to be better about not judging people because their interests are different than my own.

This ride was Kalea's first longer ride of the year. We took it nice and easy. There is something spiritual about being out on a bike outside of the city. There is the noise of your tires on rough asphalt. The sound of the wind. The crispness of the air. The warmth of each ray of sun. There is something about riding from the city into the stillness. It's a strange juxtaposition. Under the power of just your legs you can ride into solitude where you can hear God. Today at Backporch I heard about a group that goes on long rides on Sunday mornings. Like 100 mile long rides. I think I want to join them. Not to get into shape or prove that I can do it, but so that I can see the land from a different, slower, quieter perspective.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

"Cycling Upside Down Day" or "Ironic, Isn't It?"

I will be brief today and quite a bit less nerdy. Well...maybe only a little less nerdy. I was looking back over the previous two posts, one of which referred to me "geeking out." I feel the need to clarify. When I was referring to me geeking out, I was not using the term in the archaic, 18th century sense that  implies that I am a carnival freak. Rather, I was using the word with the contemporary definition in mind, that a geek is one who devotes himself to his particular hobby/activity/niche. What is disturbing about the word geek, though, is that when I looked up the word on Wikipedia it suggested that I also look op "technosexual..." a person, usually male, that has a thing for robots. Let me assure you...I do not have a thing for robots. My wife, Kalea and I are happily married. So I thought that maybe "nerd" would be a better word to use, so that people don't think of me as a technosexual, but "nerd" is no better. Wikipedia says that nerds are usually portrayed with very large glasses, braces, acne and "pants highly lifted up." I don't think I can win here. Too much ambiguity. I think I'll just stick with the contemporary use of the word "geek" and call it good.

Anyhow, as I was saying, I'll be brief today. I was visiting my friend Baily at Backporch. I had an espresso and then an 8oz. mocha while we discussed routes to get from Backporch to REI. I asked him if he'd ever ridden his bike under the Colorado Street bridge (I've mentioned it may be a little dicey). He said he hadn't and that he probably wouldn't unless the river was low. I told him that the section riding next to the river was no problem and that I had never had any trouble riding my bike under there. I decided to take that route to REI after I finished my espresso. I got to the bridge, unclipped from my pedals as always to navigate the rocky entrance to the under-the-Colorado-Street-bridge-trail, passed all the way underneath the bridge in between the raging torrent of the Deschutes and the cold concrete wall of the bridge and clipped back in for the ascent of the other side of the Colorado Street bridge. This is where the story differs from usual. My tire entered a rut caused by rain and freeze, thaw cycles and all sorts of weather related drama, and I lost my balance leaning right toward some reeds that were at river level several feet down a bank. I tried to un-clip my foot to save myself from the looming catastrophe, but to no avail. Trying to pull my foot out of my pedal just exacerbated the imbalance of the situation and I committed to a half barrel-roll down the three foot bank with my bike still attached to all four of my limbs. So here I am on my back, with my bike still completely attached to me as if I were out for a lovely morning ride, laying in the reeds besides the powerful Deschutes thinking about the irony of the situation. If only I hadn't just finished telling Bailey about the ease of this passage, this would not be so humiliating. What would make the situation more humiliating would be a yoga studio full of half naked people watching the whole charade...oh, wait...there was a yoga studio full of half naked people watching the whole thing. Check. 

I managed to unclip from my inverted pony and release myself from the tangle of reeds and stumble back up the bank. I made a quick look around to make sure there was no one else (besides the yoga studio) watching, leapt upon my fixie and rode as if nothing had happened. Oh, I'm sure it will end up on YouTube very soon, but I don't mind, I guess. It's good for those things to happen every once in a while. Now that I think about it, that was kind of a geek thing to do.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Hard and Sexy: Steel

Co-Motion Nor'Wester

Well would you look at that. I walked into Webcyclery yesterday and this leather-saddled steed made me say, "daang." I can identify a sexy piece of steel when I see one and this...this is a sexy piece of Reynolds 725 steel. If you go to Co-Motion's website, you can see some close-up shots of the frame. It is very impressive. As Ed of Webcyclery pointed out, their welds are so smooth, the frame looks like it was molded from a single piece of steel. 

Here's the deal with steel. Reynolds is probably the most popular steel manufacturer. They're like the Kleenex of steel. Hopefully they aren't trying to break into the tissue market, though. My bike, the Raleigh Sojourn, is made from Reynolds 520 steel. It's nice, kind of industry standard. Reynolds 531 is very similar to 520, for those of you who are familiar with that particular chromoly (chrome-molybdenum) grade . Both these grades, which are nice as far as steel is concerned, but at the bottom of the barrel in terms of Reynolds steel, are very elastic. This means they have some give or stretch, if you will. When you ride on a frame made from one of these two materials you have a very smooooth ride. Cadillac-ish, but without the dubs and hydraulics and under-dressed women. Reynolds 725 is heat tempered chromoly, which makes it stronger. It is resistant to oxidation and very light weight. It's not quite stainless steel, but it is very high-end. It is desirable for bicycles because it is a little bit stiffer which yields a little more performance for the rider. Because the material is lighter and stronger, it makes for a great choice for a touring bike. It will carry everything just fine. Your bike will practically pedal itself with this frame. (Reynolds is now making a 953 stainless for bicycle frames... Maybe I will post a steel-frame bike review in a couple of months and highlight some high-end steel frames.)

Every bike that Co-Motion  builds is hand-crafted in Eugene, Oregon. The frames that they are producing are very nice looking and that's just the foundation. Everything from wheels to drive-train to brakes are meticulously selected to build the best possible bicycle for your needs. In a world filled with so much carbon, there is nothing like cold, hard steel.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Geek Out, Man or the Scary Truth Behind Skid Marks

All I could think about at work today was skidding on my bike. Mostly, I was thinking about it because I'm wondering how long my road tire can hold up to the abuse. I have many miles on them already and with all the extra rubble in the road (to keep most people from sliding), I think they are skidding on borrowed time. Oh. For those of you who are visual learners, check out this video:

These guys are skidding to the max. Most of them. There are a couple falls that look uncomfortable.

When I skid to check speed, my position on my bike is drastically different than what you see here. You'll notice that these folks are leaning, in some cases, over the handlebars in order to release as much weight from the rear tire as possible. This technique allows a rider to skid for just about all of eternity. Isn't that nice. Me, I have no desire to skid for that distance. I desire lots of things, but distance sliding is not one of them. When I skid, it's for one of two reasons. The first reason is to impress Kalea. The second? Because I don't want to run into the back of Dude's Subaru when I'm raging down Reed Market on my way to work. So, instead of leaning way forward like the folks on this video, I slide just to the front of my saddle and raise up 2cm, at the very moment that I slide forward and up I stop pedaling. That part is committing, especially with some speed. If you don't do this right, you'll probably hurt yourself (which I did more than I would care to admit when I first started learning). So now we are slowing down very fast and impressing Kalea and avoiding Subaru Dude. The other thing that I'm accomplishing by skidding with more weight over the rear wheel is rear tire ex-foliation. That part is not quite as amusing.

I did some research on this fixie tire ex-foliation and I learned something that I'm sure I should have learned a long time ago. Here's the part that I knew: Based on the gear ratio of my bike I have a certain number of "skid patches" on my tire. I will attempt to clarify. When I skid I always have my crank arms parallel to the ground. I can skid with either my left or right foot forward. Based on this information, it would seem natural that I would only have two spots on my tire that I skid on (the top and bottom, if you will). Fortunately, for my tires, it is not that simple. The factor that you have to look at is gear ratio. That is, the ratio of teeth on my front chain ring versus the ratio of teeth on my little cog in the back. My gear ratio happens to be 46/16. I have lots of teeth up front and less in the back. Vampire-ish if you ask me. Anyway, I have 16 skid patches on my tire. "Easy," you might say. "However many teeth your back cog has is how many skid patches you have!" Nope. Almost that simple, though: Take the lowest common denominator (in this case, it's 23/8). The denominator of that fraction is 8, so that is how many skid patches I would have if I just skidded with one foot forward. Since I can skid ambidextrously, though, AND since the numerator of the reduced ratio is ODD, I get DOUBLE THE SKID PATCHHHES!!! Geek out, man!

Folks, this is great news. This means my tire will hopefully last me a little longer and I won't have to fret about it at work. Maybe someday soon I will post a review of fixie tires that last, though. Cheers.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

One is Silver and the Other Gold

Last night I mentioned that I would talk about the mysterious warehouse that I visited yesterday. I almost mentioned that the mysterious warehouse houses Bend's Community Bike Shed.  Many may not be aware of the presence of Bend's Community Bike Shed (BCB) in Central Oregon, because you don't live in Bend or because you just haven't run across it. Let me tell you about it. The Bike Shed is a non-profit that is committed to bringing the community together through cycling.

Garrett McAllister was hired at BCB this summer as their Services Coordinator through the Americorps program. I don't know much about how any of that works, but what I do know is that what those guys are doing over there is incredible. The room that they call their shop was small and the lighting was questionable, but at four unmatching bikestands worked four bike techs who weren't expecting to be paid for their services. They were just wrenching on donated bikes to get them running for an influx of homeless folks. These homeless folks will come in with vouchers from the gov'ment and hand them over for their new-to-them bikes. Nobody gets paid. It's just people helping people. I want to be like that.

If you or someone you know is able to help in anyway, from mechanic work to bike donations, to supplies (tubes, lubricants grease, degreasers, etc.), please contact Garrett at BCB. Click on the link above for details. If you have any problems getting a hold of them, let me know and I can get you in touch with the right people.

Today, I took a short ride with my wife, Kalea. The temperature was in the twenties and refreshing. Sometimes it's nice to just get out and spin without any place to be. There are a hundred routes you can take home. Try a different one today, maybe you'll run into the guys at Bend's Community Bikeshed. Maybe you'll make some new friends.

Daisy Dukes and Wool Undies

I'm squeezing this post in right at the buzzer. Kalea convinced me to watch a movie tonight and it didn't get over until now. 11:35. For someone who usually sneaks to bed around 9:30, that is late! Today was a brisk day on the bike. After having relatively warm weather (in the high 50s), the 30s feel cold. The sun was out, though, and my layers were appropriate. A note on my fixie commute layering system, by the way:

There are a lot of folks out there, including some of my dear friends, that wear these awful outfits comprised of  black tights accentuating the shape of the riders buttocks, over-technical looking jerseys with vests and arm-warmers and a neon jacket, a full ski mask, bicycle helmet complete with insulated helmet cover, Italian-made cycling shoes with waterproof-insulated booties and a set of Oakley Jawbone shades, with interchangeable lenses, in a color that matches the riders mood and outfit.

If you are reading this and you are interested in commuting by bicycle, please be aware that you are not required to look like Lance Armstrong when you ride your bike. Take me for instance. If it's summer, I usually wear daisy dukes and a plaid button-down (No, seriously--I do). In the winter, my outfit converts to full-length jeans rolled to just below the knees, wool socks stuffed into my already tight cycling shoes, a plaid button-down (this one is a requirement), a fleece and a neon jacket (it is nice when people see me). If it's cold, like less than 20, I substitute my ski helmet and goggles for my head covering (I know, it's incredibly nerdy, but at least I stay warm) and I put on wool long underwear. Wool is superior, by the way. The point is: get creative. No money? No problems. Just use what you have in your closet (within reason).

Anyway, I picked up our CSA box from Mothers and headed home. I took a detour, which you should always do on your bike commute, and I ended up at a mysterious warehouse with a bunch of bicycles in piles all over the place. It was called, the Bend Community Bike Shed. There will be more about this in the morning. To be continued...

Monday, January 31, 2011

If Only Cars Were Fixies...

We took our Mitsubishi Montero into Cascade Truck and Auto to have a rock removed from between our brake pads. Our mechanic, Mitch, said he would love to remove a rock from between our brake pads, except we didn't have any brake pads. "That's too bad," I thought. If cars were fixies, we wouldn't have to worry about the brakes going out. Of course, if cars were fixies, we WOULD have to worry about our tires going out.
This is Tom-foolery. Do not try this at home.

The weekend was long and short all at the same time. I had an article that I had to have into Central Oregon Magazine by today, so I spent the weekend getting it all wrapped up. The above video is of my wife and I heading to Backporch Coffee for a writing/knitting session (I was writing, Kalea was knitting). It was a nice day for a bike ride. My wife thought the camera man was taking too many risks. The camera man could not be reached for comment. Ironically, my wife was riding her bike using only one hand to steer only two days later, when she met face to face with a bush. The bush disrespectfully threw her on the asphalt. The other ironic part is that we were headed to buy her new jeans and she just happened to rip a hole in the knee of the ones that she was wearing during the fall. Fortunately she made it out with only a scraped knee and bruised shin. We decided to not get jeans and just stay home and sit in the sun. It was another nice day.  
My weekend inspiration was meeting a Redmond High teacher named Mark. He and his wife live in Bend and Mark commutes the 20+ miles to work by bicycle everyday. Even in the winter. My three miles cannot compare. I'll just have to take the long way to work, now.
This is my Cannondale Capo. Today was not a nice day. 

I have plans to find some more inspirational commuters bring you, the people, some interviews with them. Any ideas? Anyone you know that fits the bill for a fixie riding or bicycle commuting inspiration? Email me with your thoughts.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Dura-Ace Day Dreams and Indian-Dudes On Bikes

Todays post is sponsored in part by Lone Pine Coffee Roasters. Well... I paid for my coffee, but Ryan was really nice and I like their coffee a lot. Check out their link for more details. Work was incredibly slow today, so I spent a good part of my day learning about new cycling and camping equipment for 2011. I ran across this gem early this morning and have been thinking about it ever since:
Shimano Dura-Ace Track Gruppo 
Only about $1,000 worth.

Now I imagine that most people would look at this picture and yawn. At the least most people would have no clue what they are looking at. That's ok. Spending lots of money on these metal thingies is certainly unnecessary, but every fixie/track bike connoisseur would agree that this picture is sexy and desirable. That's why I was thinking about it all day. It's fast and it's shiny. 

A friend just got back from three or four months in India. Lots of people ride bikes in India.  There are lots of people in India. Lots of them ride bikes.

I can guarantee that the bike in this image did not cost anywhere near as much as the Dura-Ace Track group does. And this guy probably has gears! Anyway, I digress. The point that I'm trying to make is the folks in India are worried about eating and drinking clean water when I am day-dreaming about trinkets to make my bike faster, lighter and prettier. The money that I spend on those bike components could feed Indian-Dudes family for a year (just for perspective). So is it wrong for me to be interested in making unnecessary upgrades to my bike? 

I think that people think that riding my bike to work is a very unselfish, good for the planet, good for my health thing to do. Maybe that is partially true. The thing is, I know my heart well enough to know that the reason I ride my bike is not for the planet, it is not to help anyone, it's because I like riding my bike. I like the feeling that I get in my legs and the sense of pride that I exaggerated in a previous post. Riding my bike is selfish. Some would certainly argue this and maybe some have unselfish motives. Maybe someday I will be there. It's just like spending money to "pimp-my-ride," only instead of lift-kits, sub-woofers and custom exhaust, I'm dreaming of carbon fiber and polished steel. A tuned bike may cost less than a tuned automobile, but the motive is the same. 

There is no answer to the questioning tone of this post, nor does there need to be. We live a world apart from our Indian brothers and sisters. Most westerners don't envy them and they probably don't envy us. Sometimes I just wonder, what is the point of spending so much money on something that means so little?

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Skid Marks, Bunny Hops, Track Stands and Espresso

This post will be brief. Riding my fixie makes me feel like a child. Feeling like a child makes me feel near to God. "Fixed" refers to the drive-train of the bicycle (the front gears, the chain and the rear gears, in short). The drive-train of a fixed-gear bike is stripped down to one gear in the front and one in the back. What separates a fixed gear bike from a single speed is that a fixie does not have a free-wheel or hub that allows you to coast. This means that the drive-train is always engaged and the pedaler never stops pedaling  unless the bike is stopped (with some exceptions that I will mention shortly). Having this direct-drive gives a rider the unique ability to pedal the fixie backwards, a skill that once was reserved for freaks and circus clowns.  

The exception to the always pedaling rule is that if you slightly lean forward and stop pedaling with a little speed, you can skid to a stop (or at least to slow down). This distinctly reminds me of riding my bike as a kid and seeing how far I can skid. On fixed gear bikes, similar competitions are now acceptable for adults. So, on the way to the grocery store I impressed my wife with my frequent, unnecessary skids. The other thing that I like to impress her with are my speed bump bunny hops. Bunny hops are hard, but they are even harder when you are always pedaling. Kalea is always impressed. The last skill that is essential for every fixie rider/hipster want-to-be ("wannabe" for short) is the track stand. A track stand is where you come to a stop light and stop without putting your feet on the ground (or any other part of your body for that matter...). This is incredibly impressive to the bystanders. It  is then incredibly funny to them when your feet don't un-clip from their pedal-traps and you fall down. This is part of what makes fixie riding akin to child-likeness. Skidding , jumping, standing and falling down, all make a person feel very young. Oh...and so does espresso from Backporch Coffee Roasters. It's only a dollar if you ride your bike. 

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


                                      My Agricultural Connections CSA share.

Tuesdays are one of my favorite cycling days. I get to ride my Raleigh Sojourn and pull our Burley Honey Bee bike trailer. This is fun for a number of reasons. One of them is that I think that some people freak out because they think that I'm pulling my kid around in the thing down the middle of 3rd St. in heavy traffic. I seem to get a lot more room from cars when I have a trailer in tow (mostly the case). Another bonus is that I get to pick up our groceries from Mother's Juice Bar on Galveston. "I didn't know Mother's sold groceries," you may think. They don't, but Agricultural Connections, a community supported agriculture program (CSA) hosts their pick-up spot there. Our CSA pulls fresh, organic produce from within 100 miles of Central Oregon. (Click on the link above to see their website and learn more about their mission. And yes, that was a shameless plug, which I'm not being compensated for. I just believe in the vision.)

Pulling a trailer behind a bike is certainly entertaining and rewarding for the above reasons, but it is one of my favorite cycling days not because of produce or entertaining reactions from motorists, but because I am forced to slow down, take a different route and enjoy the scenery. Today I rode down the river trail, under the Colorado Street Bridge (I'll post a picture of this section of's scary when pulling a bike trailer, to say the least), through a couple of parks, west on Cumberland and down 13th to Mother's. The cool wind refreshed me and the pace was perfect for having a look around--something I rarely do on my normal commutes. These days remind me that I need to slow down and enjoy life. That's why I ride bikes.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Bicycle Rights

There is a new show on IFC called Portlandia. It is about how the dream of the 90's is alive and well in Portland, OR. I like it because, some character stereotypes in the show are true about me. Maybe not totally, but I can certainly relate to clips like this:

Today on my way to work I was distressed because the light in the turn lane would not turn green. Apparently my Capo and I don't do much for triggering the signal. There was no traffic, so I just turned despite the red light. There were some cars nearby that I was sure could see me, so I sprinted towards work like I owned the road, fully aware that they were in awe of my speed and sheer awesomeness for riding my bike at 6:30 am.  It only took me 13 minutes to get to work. That's how awesome I am.

On the way home I came upon the Reed Market roundabout (If there is any traffic control device that motorists are most confused about when it comes to cyclists, it is the roundabout). I entered the roundabout safely enough, but a quarter of the way around, a man with a mustache in a Toyota pulled into the roundabout right next to me as if there were two lanes, mine the inside his the outside. I looked at him and he at me, both obviously confused at the others actions (or maybe he was confused about the neon yellow cycling jacket I was wearing). The situation turned out fine. He only traveled 25 feet, or so, next to me and then exited the roundabout. The whole time, I was thinking in my head: "Bicycle rights, bicycle rights! It's my lane, you have to give me 10 feet!!!" I exited the round about thinking about how right I was and how wrong mustache man had been. I ride bikes and I'm awesome.

The rest of the ride home was relatively uneventful... There was the Hispanic woman who tried to run me over by turning left into me as I was going straight through the intersection at Brosterhous and 3rd, but other than that it was just another safe commute where I proved to other people how awesome I am for riding my bike.