
September 14, 2009
What's the big deal?
Possibly contradicting this is my passion for old classic bicycles, but it's not really about the physical item there, either: I like antiquity, good design, and the notion that every ounce of elbow-grease you put into restoring a classic bicycle is given back when you ride it. Little else created by man can do that. Perhaps a well-made and tailored suit and the way it can transform its wearer; a classic hand-made car (not the mass-produced, stamped-out throwaways of the last 45 years) and how it can incarnate so much feeling with only a turn of a key; my boundless love for music and the instruments that create it - how a simple wooden tube with holes in it can enlighten an entire village of people; cameras, and how their complex collection of electronics and/or mechanisms and lenses creates nothing more than flat rectangles of tiny colored dots... but, O!, the power of coming across a long forgotten photograph!
I think it could be summed up by saying that I have a vast appreciation for instruments of any kind: anything physical that is well made, well designed, and can be used to create something else which can't quite be described. After all, music is nothing more than vibrations. Riding a bicycle does nothing more than physically move you from one place, to another - and, by today's standards, slowly. So what's the big deal? Ah.... that IS the question. The performance, the feeling, the emotion... the intangible. The very notion that something inanimate can produce something else, unseen and unpackageable, which grows greater in worth than the collection of parts that created it.
This short interview with one of my - dare I say it: heroes? - highlights some of this thinking, and should serve to remind us not to be one-dimensional, not to be about so much what we do - but who we are, and why we do what we do.
There is an 'advertising' sort of feel to this piece, the motivation of the interview drawing on the hopes of a traditional whiskey manufacturer to juxtapose their product with the mystique of the interviewees notions of what defines a "classic". I would greatly enjoy seeing this individual interviewed by someone such as Charlie Rose, for example - but this will do. What is said therein is worth noting, and has some weight to it even if it's been said differently 1,000 times before; the sum total is a repeating theme that I try to use as a mantra for my own journey, in hopes that if someone were to ask me who I am, I could muster an answer.
At the end of the day, are you happy? Is your family happy? Did you DO something? Did you feel anything? If the answer to any of these is "no", change it.
Enjoy this link to interview: http://www.webcastr.com/videos/news/les-stroud.html
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September 11, 2009
Axiom Monsoon & Typhoon Storm-Front panniers: 1-Year review
My last set of bags had to do a few things: Be tough, carry everything I needed to handle a two-job commute, be waterproof, and be out-of-the-box visible without resorting to my usual additions of reflective modifications. Ortlieb was certainly on the short list, as was Arkel and my old favorite Carradice - but they were each out of the budget. Further searching found me looking at Axiom's website. A Canadian company, Axiom has been in the business for a while, and seemed to make solid stuff. Their Storm-Front line of bags seemed to hit the same marks as the Ortlieb bags, and were more economical. The panniers in the Storm-Front line up come in two sizes: the Typhoon, at 2032 cu.in. per pair, and the smaller Monsoon at 1510 cu.in. per pair.
My criteria resulted in the purchase of the Axiom Typhoon panniers in bright red. My bike is not a true touring geometry, however, and I quickly found heel clearance to be a daily problem with these monsters. I passed these on to a friend, and opted for the smaller Monsoon bags. The storage capacity proved more than adequate for my commuting needs, and the heel clearance issue was eliminated. For the purposes of this review, the only difference between the two bags are their sizes - so I have no doubt that had I owned the larger bags for this same time period with the same usage, the results would have been the same. To be clear, the comments that follow are specifically about the Monsoon panniers.
Waterproofness sometimes comes with compromise, and this is clear with most dry bags and the like in the marketplace. Seams are the enemy, unless specific (and expensive) materials are employed, like I've seen used in the Carradice bags. Axiom uses a roll-top design for their main compartment, which is a proven method for keeping water out. Combined with their use of ultrasoncially welded and lined tarpaulin, the main compartments of the bags operate as-advertised: completely waterproof when closed. After riding through snow, and nearly every gradient of rainfall from sprinkles and mist to all-out downpours and thunderstorms, I have yet to find a single droplet of water inside these bags, or absorbed into anything I've carried inside them. Even on the stormiest mornings I've arrived at work with dry clothes. The trade-off for this kind of all-weather performance is a lack of versatility with regards to storage options in the main compartment. Many bags have inserts of some kind, zippered pouches and pockets along the outside, or similar, and these bags do not. You essentially have one, big pocket on each side of the bike. I was more than willing to trade these features, however, to be able to ride regardless of the conditions without changing anything about my routine. No fumbling with rain covers, seam sealants, plastic bags for the clothing, or rushing to re-pack when storms move in. Granted, many a commuter has had success with non-waterproof bags and combinations of internal protection and covers over the years - but I definitely wanted a no-compromises, weather-proof FIRST bag - and these have met that mark nicely. I'm so routine-based in the mornings on my rides to work, the less I have to fumble with simply because it's pouring rain, the better.
Aside from the main compartment mentioned above, part of the design of the bag involves a large flap that covers over the roll-top closure, offering even further protection to the primary contents of the bag. This flap "completes" the closure of the bag with a large quick-fasten buckle, and is trimmed with a molded-in zipper pocket on the outside, and a sewn-in mesh pocket on the inside.
The inside mesh pocket is handy for storing items that don't mind moisture. Contents are protected, largely, simply because they are on the underside of the flap - but tire spray and simply moving through the air might invite moisture in, so pack accordingly. I use this large pocket for documents (inside a plastic baggie) if I happen to be carrying any, like letters or mail. In one of the bags, I use this mesh pocket for storage of my rain jacket in cooler months, and it's perfect for that. I can stop, undo the flap, and retrieve my jacket without putting the contents of the main compartment at risk, which is really handy.
The outside zipper pocket is smaller, but easy to get to. I use this for smaller, thinner items that I need quick access to once I arrive at the office - things like my ID badge, maybe wallet and phone. That's about all that fits, however, and highlights my first of two complaints about this outside pocket. It is nice to have a pocket of any kind on this kind of waterproof bag, but it's molded into the flap in such a way that only thin items will fit into it. It's not gusseted, doesn't have it's own shape - so anything you try to stuff into it tends to budge the tarp fabric, and then deforms the line of the zipper, making it hard to close. Even if you successfully get something into these outer pockets, it can make final closure of the flap itself difficult.
The second complaint about the outside pocket is the zipper itself. If there was one design flaw, this is it. Designs of water-resistant zippers has indeed come a long way over time, but it's still not a high-cycle device. For the first six months, the zipper worked perfectly, as designed: water never entered the pocket, even fully exposed to thunderstorm-level rainfall. However, water-resistant zippers' tragic flaw is the PVC-coating that is layered onto what is essentially a normal zipper. If you only enter the pocket on occasion, it's fine - but continued open-and-close cycles requires - as is the case for all zippers - the carrier/closure/slider to pass, rather abrasively, over the PVC coating. Over time, this material weakens, a gap is created, and eventually it begins to peel away. This makes the once water-resistant zipper a plain-old zipper, and water seeps in quite easily. I remedied this by taking a scissors to an old PVC rain jacket and making "storm flaps" to cover over the pocket openings. Sure, I could have simply loaded everything into a zip-top baggie, and put it inside the pocket for protection of my items, but the real concern was water getting in, and not drying out. Additionally, it flew in the face of my simplicity plan and routine: having a bag that allowed me to treat my items the same as if I was putting them into the pocket of my jeans was the goal. The added storm-flaps solved the problem, and are the only "repair" I've had to make to the bags since purchase. (I'll qualify that in a moment.) From a design perspective, I don't think a "better" water-resistant zipper is the answer for Axiom, should they choose to address the issue. A factory storm flap would be a good addition, but what might be better is simply an open pocket, slightly gusseted to allow for easier storage access, with a covering flap and quick-snap "Fastex"-style closure. In any case, this would make the pocket more usable, and it would live up to the "Water-Proof" moniker of the bag line. To be plain, however, this is a minor concern - as it should be: this tiny outside pocket is not the main selling feature of the bag, and this issue doesn't detract from the rest of the bag's performance.
Visibility is usually an afterthought for most cycling items, unfortunately, which has always struck me as odd. Granted, some reflective piping here and there is really secondary to a good vest, and proper lighting on the bicycle - so why load up accessory and bag manufacturers with requirements for reflective accents? Thankfully, many companies simply consider it a good idea - Axiom being one of them. They incorporated their logo into the accents, which is a good touch considering branding of a product is something they'd have done anyhow. Since these are waterproof, Axiom was mindful enough to consider that these bags might encounter some rainy rides, so they've been trimmed them on all three exposed sides with healthy doses of reflective material that proves quite effective, even when wet. So reflective, it made taking a photo of it quite difficult. You will notice in these photos my aforementioned "need" to slather just a little bit more visibility gear on whatever I purchase: the hi-vis orange netting that I placed on the "traffic-side" bag is my own addition, sewn into the edging seam on the bottom edge of the main flap. This is not included on Axiom bags, nor are the stickers that I've placed on the outside flaps, which I've blurred out in these pictures. I can't help myself sometimes - must... personalize.... bags!!
The durability of these bags is quite good. After a solid year of nearly daily use, there are few indicators of anything I'd consider to be "toward-failure" wear. The one "scare" I had was when a tiny corner of fabric seemed to peel backwards, but it turned out to be part of the overlap of tarpaulin and PVC-coating, and wasn't really a seam failure like I'd thought. I applied a little silicone sealant, pressed it in place overnight, and everything is fine. The actual ultrasonically welded seam will take a LOT more beatings before separating - it's a terribly strong bond, really, and a good construction choice for this kind of bag. A year of bumps, pot-holes, pavement joints, bike trail maladies, curbs and median jumps, bunny hops, railroad tracks and even occasional off-road and gravel commute detours - with daily commute loads, light errands, six-packs of beverages, wet tents and bike camping gear, and other countless items of odd-ball cargo, these bags have yet to wince. There is mild "staining" from open-close cycles on the grey PVC material - probably from when I entered the bag after a shift at the bike store with greasy hands - and little indicators of where the bag's roll-top feature pinches the PVC tarp, but little else. There are small areas of nylon "fray" here and there, but again - all very, very minor. The only signs of wear that I'm mildly concerned with involve the rubber coating of the pannier's rack hooks - and even that isn't 100% necessary for continued operation of the bags.
The back-side of each bag is the story of what they are exposed to from a year of all-weather commuting. The hardware is solid, but shows a bit of surface rust. There is clear marking from the rotation of the "rack-lock" blocks that help hold the bags in place, and you can tell where the bungee cords have been. All of this is normal wear, however, and nothing shows any signs of wearing thin, or wearing through. Further, Axiom includes a small replacement hardware kit in each bag at purchase, in case anything does become necessary. So far, I haven't been compelled to replace anything. The bottom side of each bag is also holding up quite well, with nothing to raise an eyebrow about. While no pannier is designed to be dragged along the ground, Axiom still chose to employ very sturdy rear corner protectors, just in case.
On my completely off-the-cuff, random, found-less scale of one to ten, I give these a solid 9-point rating - the only sour mark being the failure of the water-proof zippers and associated repair for the outside pockets, and the fact those same pockets aren't terribly useful for anything larger than a deck of cards. All in all, I've gotten my money's worth from these bags, and I fully expect to be writing about them again, this time next year. Highly recommended, a good price, durable, visible, and water-proof. A pair of these and their larger cousins, the Typhoon panniers, would make for a worry-free fall tour in questionable weather, no doubt.
September 3, 2009
September 1, 2009
Blackburn Flea packs a punch, and packs small.
It's been about nine months or so since I first picked up the Blackburn Flea headlight and taillight set, and I've managed to put it through a pretty good set of trials and paces. Retail price at the time was roughly $50, and at first I gasped because of the size of the lights and the seemingly small array of "stuff" I got in the package. At first glance on the sales rack, one might look at the price, then the lights, shrug, and walk away. Blackburn was smart, either by necessity or consequence, that the units are charged up in the package. The package is designed to allow prospective buyers to take a look at how they operate right there at the point of sale. When light shopping, I've often resorted to wondering, checking the web for beam-shots or photos of some kind, and reviews to know if my purchase was going to be worth a hoot. Sometimes, a bike retailers nightmare, I'd actually rip into a package and put the included batteries into the light and try it out - well,
carefully, so as not to render something un-sellable, of course. Blackburn did quite well with the packaging they chose in this regard, and clicking the lights on and examining the beams right there in the store, my sticker shock was suppressed. Almost blinded myself, and I was thusly sold.
At home, the two hook-n-loop straps, the charge adapter, and the lights all popped out of the package took up literally just a handful of space. This entire kit would fit easily into anyone's bag, seatpack or back pocket. All told, the front and rear lights with their associated straps weighed in at 20 grams each. Right off the bat, nothing is lighter in a rechargeable light. You have your Knog "Frog" lights, your Princeton Tec's, and other CR-2032 powered lights that are slightly smaller, far less bright, and not rechargeable. There are lots of images available via a Google search that have the Blackburn lights compared to coins - a good reference. These are TINY lights. What sets these apart are their power output and rechargeability.
Power output: Advertised at 40 lumens. That, for the size of this light, is quite remarkable. The rear light is equally bright. Yes, larger rechargeable lights have more power, but you have to remember that you can't have it all (yet) and the size is the focus here. In that arena, if I could be so bold as to pose a "lumens per gram" fantasy, these are a clear leader. The front light uses 4 Nichia white LEDs, producing an even spot beam that is actually enough to ride by if you keep your speed in check - so in a pinch, this is actually a viable backup headlight, not just a tiny, blinky marker-light or be-seen light - although in flash mode, it excels at the latter. For most commuters, the front light could be enough on mornings or evenings where you just can't get the sunshine to fit your schedule. On street-lit roads, honestly, this light on the handlebars with the included hook-n-loop strap would be enough for most anyone. The remarkable output is balanced by the r
un-time, which on steady is about three hours, slightly more. Sure, not much - but focus back on size vs. output, and it's surprising. It's enough to get you home, certainly, for what most riders would use it for. There is an over-drive mode, which is really handy - but it really eats into the run-time bank, and on one ride in early January I managed to blow through the charge in about half the advertised three hours, alternating between both modes. With tender use of the overdrive feature, however, the three hours on steady was repeatable on many occasions.
Beam quality is pretty good - my only complaint is with the emitters having a purplish tinge to them, which - spectrally - is a little bit of wasted energy. The sealed design of the enclosure doesn't really lend itself towards hacking or swapping emitters like you can do with some lights, so I didn't even try - but that's the only real operational flaw I could find with this little wonder. Head to head against other LED lights, that purplish tinge to the light seems to remove a little bit of the contrast and candlepower. Because of this, I found myself using the overdrive feature probably moreso than Blackburn intended, just to get a better beam - when there is more voltage opened to the emitters, the color improves. Still, I can't fault Blackburn for this: if they'd have come to market with an (estimated) 80 lumen light that only ran for an hour on a charge, it would not have been very useful. More run time at the expense of a little spectral quality, not a horrible t
hing - and having the overdrive function there in a pinch, you can safely navigate darker sections of road, and then return to normal. One thing I've seen in pricier lights is a simple toggle to allow easier movement between high and low power, bypassing any blinking modes until the button is held for 'x' seconds. But, to be fair, this isn't a race light, so having to "go around the horn" and toggle past blinking mode each time I want to switch power is okay, I suppose.
The charging system is brilliant. You use an adapter to siphon current from a 1.5v cell of any size, the size dictating the number of charges you get: about 3 for a AA-cell, roughly 30 for a D-cell. New for 2010, a new version of the light includes a small solar panel and a USB adapter. Unless I'm mistaken, this is a bicycle-light first for out-of-the-box charging flexibility. This is really slick, not gimmicky like one might assume. It works well. Blackburn has always been a solid company with regards to innovation: even the hook-n-loop straps weren't an afterthought: one side has a thick rubbery center stripe, which is meant to hold the light in place on handlebar or seatpost, and it makes for a very solid platform. Combined with their low mass, these light don't move around on the bike at all once in place.
For randonneuring use, the Flea lights make good backups in a pinch. Sure, the rear light is a given: it takes up almost no space in a bag, weighs very little, and will blink for up to 12 hours. For most brevets, if a primary rear light fails this might save you a DNF. For the front, its a stretch: you can see the road with it, but your speed, especially on any downhill, would have to be limited on dark roads for sure. Add in the three hour run time, depending on when your primary light failed, it may not be enough to save a ride. The tiny charge adapter and packing a AA cell in a bag will allow field recharging, but charge times (while really good) are 30 minutes, so every three hours you'd have to stop and hang out. Sure, a primary light failure would mean life on brevet is compromised - but I'm not sure its the best solution for a tired randonneur to be messing with tiny wires and waiting for a charge every 50 miles or so. In this sense the Flea front light might
be best hanging out in the bag as a third-string backup. Using the Flea in this way is indeed WAY outside the original design intent, but, for reading cues, changing a flat after dark, shining on a street sign, its perfect - Strap this to a helmet and use sparingly and you've got a light-weight, tiny beacon that kicks the snot out of anything else its size. Just keep your use in check, and get something different if you want to supplement your primary light during the ride.
All in all, these are an exceptional product, very versatile, and adaptable to just about anything. Commuting, rando backup, racing sunset on a roadie ride, marking your position on a rainy ride. Highly recommended.
August 31, 2009
Reviews on tap
Randonneur: Review of the Blackburn Flea front and rear LED light set. (what replaced it, and what I want to find - or make.)
Commuter: The year-end Review of the Axiom Typhoon panniers.
August 30, 2009
Finding myself in the darkness
Precursor or not, this mild snap in August has really been going on since July. I suppose it's weird bringing a jacket along to an August Dark Side Ride, but I almost needed it on the last leg home. I'm definitely not used to anything below 70°F, but I can't really remember the last time I felt 'hot' this summer when riding home from work. Still, I felt downright cold at times as I pedaled south from town, and upon reaching the turn-around in Belton I almost caught myself in a shiver. The caffeine I ingested there was more to fire up the furnace than it was to keep me awake. Same for the hot-ish pace during the first leg of the ride from Spring Hill High: sure, the excitement of the group and the hills got me pumped up, but it was almost neccessary to keep the pace up to stay warm. I was not proving to be the best 'ride leader' in that regard, but I think everyone was in good spirits, and I got a lot of help from the group.
I have to reiterate here: there is something magical about a night ride. Its turning into my favorite thing to do. The stars come out, the moon plays in the clouds, and the traffic dies. The sounds of trains, dogs, and the hum of chains and conversation and tires against the silence of nightfall. Love it. The mystical fog and the cold valleys made this ride especially neat.
On the return, Crowbar and I took caboose-duty, helping out someone that was along for the ride and chopping up his longest ride EVER to date. The man is "DB", until another nickname sticks, and his passion as a newbie is inspiring. The subject matter flowed from tires to passing cars to fatigue to commuting method, and all the while we pedaled along and watched the sights pass by. It was pretty cool, and it reminded me of things long-since taken for granted. While it was hard to let the fast-pack go on ahead, it was also the first time in a while where I didn't have a single care about the clock. For a few miles I'd pedal along in solitude, then I'd drop back and join the conversation for a while, then find myself falling back into my own pace again.... Slow up, u-turn, rejoin. For a few brief moments here and there, I felt like I was at the end of a long brevet.
Reminds me that I haven't ridden a proper rando-ride in a while, and how the MS Ride is just around the corner: a perfect springboard to a 200k permanent. A friend's comments recently put in perspective my accomplishments. Brevets aren't for everyone. Neither are rules. It was nice on Friday to not have to worry about signatures and time stamps... but I've grown to revel in the rules and the goals that come with randonneuring, more specifically what those rules and requirements have done for me. Surely I'd still enjoy cycling just as much if none of it ever 'counted', if there were no medals or time windows... but a big part of me does hope it all counts for something. Maybe I need it to? In the last twelve years I have reshaped myself and gained a strength I never would have imagined possible back in the day. For who I've become, I think I need those rules... that chase... that occasional 24-hour race. I don't think its for anyone else... not trying to best anyon
e or prove anything ... I think part of me just needs to have some sort of official validation. Perhaps part of me always will.
What's interesting is that in the past six months I have really allowed myself to enjoy stuff that doesn't fit on the official rando chart. I've had a blast, and part of it is found partially in being comfortable in my own skin finally. Maybe I still don't know who I am, precisely, but being a randonneur definitely helped get me closer to an answer. Of that, I am proud - and its made the rest of my life easier to live, easier to enjoy.
I've tried to limit my references to cycling lately, in certain circles, because I don't want to become a predictable, crashing bore, but I supposed it is the niche I fit into. Its better to wait for someone to ask, like during the ride. As I listened to the questions of DB while I rode along, I felt like I'd passed on something to a new rider who is just beginning his journey... A journey that I started only a decade or so prior. I dunno, maybe I think too much: but it did get me thinking about what things were like when I'd just got started. Cycling has become such a big part of my life, I really - seriously - have no clue what I used to do to pass the time ten years ago.
I must have been really bored. It really gets into you, this whole 'car-free' thing. Life does not become easier, but I think I almost prefer this. Even at the late hour, even with the offers of rides, the chill in the air. I really just preferred to be on the bike. Not to prove anything or best anyone. I just feel right. Its slowly becoming "who I am".
August 21, 2009
Cyclists busted for running stop sign.
There is something to be said for the permeable membrane of society with regards to certain subject matter. For example, you ask someone on the street about Paris-Brest-Paris, they'll likely think you're talking about a gentlemen's club. Ask that same random person about Lance Armstrong, and they'll probably at least know who he is. So, when the desperately non-cycling substitute security guard at the front desk of my office this morning asked me if I was one of the 17 cyclists that got a ticket for running a light, I figured the pervasiveness of this story had about maxed-out.
My take on cyclists getting tickets? Good. About time. Bring it on.
Of the reports I've read, my favorite quote comes from a lawyer that attended the ride exonerating himself because he came to a self-proclaimed "near-stop". If you'd near-stopped in a car, the same thing probably would have happened. Proof that a law degree only makes you one thing: a college graduate.
This kind of thing irks me to no end, and I really don't even want to waste the energy debating it. It happened, they got tickets, and I hope to all-that's-holy that area police continue to hand out tickets to cyclists that break the law. PERIOD. This is why I will continue to shun and avoid nearly every t-shirt and semi-organized group ride in the area, because the last time I attended one I got yelled at and shunned BECAUSE I stopped at a stop sign. I announced I was stopping, signaled - something the cyclists behind me had probably never seen before, come to think of it - and I believe the phrase was something to the effect that I almost made someone rear-end me because I was stopping, and I should "stop being such a blankity-blank Boy Scout." I responded by smartly out-climbing him on my single speed, and heading home. That was in 2003. The only groups I feel comfortable riding with are in Grandview on Saturday mornings, randonneurs, and my small circle of like-minded friends.
To you offenders: I don't get it. There is no reason for it. There is absolutely nothing about your ride or your group that temporarily lifts the rules of the road. You are not transporting intelligence documents by bicycle to the President of the United States. You are not on your way to fight a fire. None of you will ever impress me with an average speed on a group ride unless you can do it while still obeying all the traffic laws. If you want to improve your average speed, learn how to brake faster, track-stand, and sprint back up to speed. If a cop doesn't see your spokes stop moving from across an intersection, you didn't stop. If you can't stomach that, then learn how to ride faster (because, trust me... you're not fast.) and save it for the crits on a closed course for your "bragging rights". The only thing close to in-between is the Tour De Shawnee on the 30th of this month, and I personally kinda hope the cops protest and refuse to control the intersections for you. In the meantime, I get the pleasure of fending off the drivers continually hacked off by the cyclists doing it incorrectly. Now that it's made the TV news, radio, and newspaper, I get to fend off people that weren't even there to witness the bad behavior. Doing it right or not, I'm still a "dang biker" when drivers come up behind me during the morning commute. Thanks, again.
This is why there will always be an "us and them" division among cyclists.
And "them" are never going to read these blogs.
But, if YOU, loyal reader whose valuable time I greatly appreciate and never take for granted - if YOU see someone cycling poorly, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE... speak up. If we are going to live in a community of us-and-them cyclists, the only way to pull someone over to the "other" side is to talk to them.
The Blue Moose, in the meantime, reserves the right to refuse service to anyone - just like any other legitimate business - and in this down economy, I wonder if they can afford the bad press? Heck, who am I kidding? There is no "down economy" in "Perfect Village"(sic). Still, I wonder how long we'll continue to see spandex-clad lawyers bellied up to the bar there? I wonder how long angry motorists will wait before stopping in for a drink one of these Thursday nights? Maybe they'll strike up a conversation.
Okay, I'm finished.
August 15, 2009
70 days and counting
This "70th day" kinda caught up to me, because I haven't really been counting. Back in June my mother-in-law's car broke down. Since it was summer-time, and I was already planning on riding to work by bicycle, I offered up my car as a loaner until she could find something else. The rest, as they say, is history - if only in my own little personal circle. I must qualify that while I am proud of this mini-landmark in my bicycle commuting, it pales in comparison to what a lot of my commuter-heroes have logged. I know of more than a few that celebrated their 1,000th car-free day recently, so this is merely a stepping stone for me, not so much a proclaimation. It may not even be the longest personal streak I've logged, come to think of it... but it is certainly the longest streak I've logged since relocating to Olathe in 2004. Moving here form Overland Park doubled my commute distance overnight, and I never really got a good streak going - even when I still had the gas-guzzling Buick in the driveway - a worthy excuse NOT to drive, at a whopping 6 MPG city. I'd ride three days in a row, often, and then I'd find something that put me back in the car. (Read: excuse) This time, with the car completely removed from the equation, there has been no alternative, no option. It has been ride, or walk. My mother-in-law's car breaking down has been one of the best enhancements to my cycling and training since I got my first set of clipless pedals!
It's to the point now, also, where there have been legitimate challenges and potential excuses. Real tests of my commuter fortitude, and tests of my family's patience. The wife has been great, my biggest supporter. We've both caught ourselves over the last couple months taking for granted the fact that we've always had two cars. The thoughts are automatic. Appointments, schedule overlaps: there has been enough time invested in this car-free streak to see how these issues play out, and we've both been caught, saying things like "oh, well, I'll pick up such and such and just meet you over there.....oh....wait....you don't have a car!" It always brings pause, but in a good way. For me its just been interesting, each day a challenge: not being able to say "oh, I'm tired", or "oh, it's raining," or "ugh, it's too windy," and slink into the car. The real test was seeing if life would still 'work' with a wife and two kids and school and activities, and then suddenly removing one of the conveniences.
A recent example, the wife heading to an all-day school conference last week meant she would need to drive, like she would anyways... but I'd be home without a car, with two kids on summer break wanting to go to the pool, which is several miles away. Use of resources, figuring out what makes the most sense, and thinking about the smartest way to approach things have become the norm, which is, honestly, refreshing. The old 'norm' would've involved a car taking one person to one location, where-in that car would occupy a parking space for eight hours. My car, utilized or not, would be conveniently at my disposal in the driveway. It gets slightly more complicated and less convenient when that 2nd car is removed, because the next option would be to drive her to work, drop her off, and then drive back home...do whatever, then drive back and pick her up later. Sure, only one car is involved, but we would have made the trip twice. So, one less car...twice the gas. Option three, a friend of hers also attending the conference picks her up and drops her off afterwards, a friend that lives enroute. The problem took less time to sort out than it probably took you to read this. But it's that pause that so many people don't take. "We need another car." Sticking to a one-car situation like this simply requires people to think a few steps beyond convenience. So far, there hasn't been a situation come up in over two months that was just 'impossible' because I didn't also have a car.
I have to remember that a one-car family is not neccessarily a unique situation, either. Only a generation ago, having more than one car meant you were quite wealthy. It is also often about geography: someone living in an urban area reading this might be asking themselves what the big deal is. There are areas where going car-free is no issue at all - places like New York or Chicago, with good transit in place, lots of density, options and integrated living designed in - real, integrated communities.
Here in suburban Johnson county, Kansas, however, you have the perfect storm of a young group of cities designed around the assumption that everyone would be driving everywhere, or cities whose design philosophy was changed due to the planning of the cities around them. Toss in the proximity to a state line with differing ideals that, to date, have never been able to agree upon or fortify a real transit plan. On one side you have a real need for alternatives, and on the other an apathy driven by wealth and "me" culture, rapid development, sprawl, and a modified American Dream that includes cars as status symbols. The KC-area is very car-centric, and despite it's initial design there have been changes that have put cars on the map for good here. Over the decades, the Strang Line (for example) has long-since had its rails buried underneath asphalt and dashed white lines. Interstate highways have cut across streets that used to make sense, used to go straight through. Even Union Station was thought to be a waste of space, on the list of buildings to be razed just a few years ago. Now, it's essentially a museum: but it should have always been a transit hub, as the original builders envisioned. Light rail continues to be voted down, no-one looking farther than five years down the road. Gas prices go up, the buses fill up... but gas prices drop, and everyone gets back into their cars. Meanwhile, for those that NEED the bus, the rates increase again for 2010. This is a fickle town for transit.
That very desire of the majority to hold on to car-culture, despite higher gas prices, despite environmental buzz-talk, keeps real change from happening. The people that truly need alternatives NOW are the ones that suffer. For me to pull off this streak of consecutive car-free days, I've been lucky enough to have my health, my bike, the right trails and roads in precisely the right places, and tolerable weather. For someone that does not have a background of cycling in traffic, does not have a good route to and from work, its as-if the odds are stacked up against them to try and make bicycle commuting work. Impossible? No. But this town doesn't make it easy. We've got a lot of people on the bubble, a lot of people that stuggle to keep and maintain just one car, people that are not cyclists that have been put onto bikes to make it to work, onto unsafe and unfit streets... and they're held there by city planners that drive comfortably to work each day in luxury sedans. Sure, I'm generalizing, and there is a track record of progress gaining momentum with help from MoBikeFed and others... but, my ultimate point here is that EVERYONE should have it as easy as I've had it. Everyone that wants or needs to should be able to hop onto a bike-lane or trail that actually leads them close to their job. It should be as automatic to city development as assuming that everyone will follow the school, work, two-car family, taxes and death formula. With those daunting tasks ahead of all of us involved with advocacy, and fall and winter looming, I continue my car-free streak for the forseeable future. Even when my mom-in-law figures out her automotive solution, I honestly don't think I want the car back.
My next major purchase is a cheap mountain bike to get me through winter's challenges.
Stay tuned!
Coming soon.... CommuterDude, the Movie.... For a long time I've wanted to chronicle a week's worth of commutes and edit it down into a tolerable mini-documentary on what its like behind the scenes. What happens when I leave my desk in the afternoon and walk off with my panniers in-hand? Well, I'm putting a storyboard together, and you'll get little tastes here and there, coming soon.
Thanks, as always, for reading.
August 4, 2009
Thirteen months
Ort announced his intent today, also, and his return to the bike, which I have to say is extremely exciting. I can't lie: while our friendship is stronger than the bike, it was always weird not 'talking shop' this last year. Further, while he has always extended the offer to crew, it would have been up to me to get started on training and planning. Hard to be objective now, as I write this, but before this morning Tejas was the last thing on my mind. Now that the spark of friendly competition is back in play, I'm super motivated to give this monster race another run.
Things are coming into place. After two years of damage control, things are beginning to turn in the home camp that will, if budgeted and planned appropriately, come together nicely. The Warbird (aka the Trek 450) had been built up, and then stripped down again due to financial circumstances - and now it almost seems possible to have a proper road-race gruppo installed on her again in time for this event. Even if that doesn't pan out, the Kogs will do nicely in race trim again. Race wheels, perhaps, would be nice. Honestly, though, equipment concerns are not the limitation here. It's been me. Since January, however, I'm finding my stride again. The weight is almost all off, and the climbing is getting better each day. The 400km ride into Iowa back in May, upon further reviews, was a stronger personal ride than I'd originally thought: not a speed record for the distance, but specifically the best I'd performed *after* 200kms into a headwind, solo: the hammerfest from Leon back to Bethany to catch the next group on the road proves to me that there is a foundation in place for speed-at-distance again. I'm beginning to see smaller benchmarks bested, certain personal climbing times are getting closer and closer to falling. The old "gosh I wish it was 2003 again" dialogue is gone. There are some more tests to take: Metcalf, from 159th to 199th. The Tour De Shawnee doesn't have a 47 mile loop this year, sadly, so I may never know if I'd have Fancher's number this time out, but the opportunity of a closed course hilly time trial is appealing. Johnson drive time trials loom in my memory...from Pflumm to the ballfields....dude, the old tests are running in my head. This time, however, carefully balanced with good, steady state rides. The commute streak will continue, to eliminate excuses and reasons to hang up the bike because things have gotten 'tough'. Mental toughness. Late night permanents to build after-dark speed, focus, and to learn how to keep the sleep deprivation boogie-man at bay. Then, use the tough Bob Burns series of brevets to ramp up, with personal-best attempts at the 300, 400 and 600km level, straight through in spring 2010. Finally, keep that edge all next summer: heat training, hard short rides, and late night permanents - keep family impact at an absolute minimum with late night rides, commutes with a plan behind them, and self-inflicted distances up to 400k if possible on loops: to build the mental game even further and become immune to seeing the same terrain over and over. I've got my recon, my man on the inside: Get course recon from Ort, and build a 26 mile course that mimics it. I know the Tejas course first-hand, but its all new starting this year. The old loop I know by memory from 2006 and 2007 is gone, which is good and bad. The good: no demons, no worries about counting how many times I've passed the lime plant. This time, a clean slate. The bad: the unknown. The increase in climbing per lap. I can only use these as opportunities. No stressing about what I can't possibly know. Just hone the edge, and bring it. More upper body work, for strength to support better performance and endurance. Better nutrition, something that is already giving benefits. Using the goal to improve my quality of life. I love this part, literally giddy at the keyboard, talking it out, envisioning the successes unfurling.... I was super excited today, sending off at least four emails talking about this. I've got that spring in my step again... A goal.... Ahhhh.... A goal..... life, all around, is good.
It's only 13-months away... It's perfect.
August 3, 2009
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