Photos From the Saddle

Now that I’ve “survived” Bike to Work Month without injury, the question of what’s next comes up. The obvious answer is to keep riding, which I will most certainly be doing… but I can’t help but feel a bit of “Huh. Well… now what?”

Immediately, I plan to give my body a break for a week or so and then start looking at my options. Bike commuting will remain, of course, but much at a more “relaxed” pace. I’ve had thoughts for a few years now to do a major one-day push from sea level to 10,000 ft. of elevation and back (5k by bike, the other 5k by foot). I have no illusions that it’s a lofty goal… especially considering my susceptibility to the effects of elevation… but there was a point when I saw a particular 300+ ft.-in-less-than-a-mile climb on a bike as a lofty goal.

Two years ago, I tackled that particular climb for the first time at the end of BtWM. Last year, I went up it on the Double Cross every workday. Yesterday, I tackled it on the Karate Monkey as a conclusion to the month.

There are a number of thoughts and experiences I had during that climb. In truth, I’ve written and deleted them several times over now… but they don’t sit right, so perhaps now isn’t the time to share them. I’ll leave it at that for now.

I will say this, though… yesterday was better than Bike to Work Day. Better than Christmas, for sure. The morning commute was near-perfect, rolling in to work with a group of 6 other friends. It was the afternoon roll-out, though, that I hope to remember for some time to come: 80°F, a gentle and cool tailwind and watching at least 20 other riders of all skill levels riding off on their commutes home. I was giddy, to say the least. It’s fair to say that feeling lasted until 3am when I was finally able to pass out, completely exhausted but happy—especially happy that I’d made it through the month uninjured, with relatively few mechanical issues, and achieved every goal I’d established… and happy, too, that I have no idea what to do next. It’s liberating.

The streak of great weather has continued, and the sunrises have been quite awesome. I’ve actually been getting up earlier so that I can be on the road (and in a good viewpoint) when it comes over the horizon. Definitely makes the first few miles pass quickly.

Tomorrow is the last day of Bike to Work Month for me. A relief, certainly—I’ve been putting in lots of miles and I’m definitely feeling the effects. G and I talked about being “cooked” on the ride home today, which I wholeheartedly admitted to feeling. However, since it appears that I’ll ride away from the month without injury, I’m contemplating what to do with all these base miles (and, honestly, much greater fitness level). I think I’m going to take it easy for a couple weeks then look to settling into a fitness routine with periodic long rides for shits and giggles. G suggested I sit in with the lunch ride… which has crossed my mind a few times… we’ll see. I’m also really looking forward to getting back on the Double Cross a lot more.

Otherwise, I’ve got a bunch of random pictures, per usual, from the past couple days (including a couple shots of the bike in action, as requested by Jan and Jon!). My thoughts are pretty much a jumble, so pics seems the best way to go at the moment.

There are times when I wonder why I write about bike commuting. It’s kind of painting yourself into a corner of sorts when your main topic is a repetitive one that doesn’t really stray from the central story. In truth, too, I’m feeling a bit inspired to explore some other directions with this.

So, dear reader(s)—what, if anything, would you like more or less of? Pictures? Gear commentary? Cultural observations? Humor? Inner monologues? Race reports from the bike trail? Commuting tips? What do you like and don’t like? Please, share your thoughts…

Along the lines of identities… today’s commutes featured angry rednecks in old beat-up trucks. I might hesitate to classify the drivers as “rednecks” if it weren’t for the fact that both trucks prominently featured redneck-claiming bumper stickers. So hey, since they’re embracing it, I’m going to respect that and roll with it…

The first redneck encounter was in the morning, just before the white-knuckle mile, and is the small pickup truck in the middle of the pic at the top. The two semis were hankering to swing right and had muscled into the middle lane, but the little truck wasn’t deterred and slid on up to the line, backfiring along the way and nearly pinching me against the second semi back. I kept a short distance behind, mostly because of the backfiring and near-pinching, but I was amused to see stickers of a Confederate flag, “Kickass Redneck!” and “Elk hunter” all across the back window. When the light changed, he must’ve floored the gas pedal ’cause there were a number of backfires as he sped off the line. Not sure what that was about.

The second one was a little bit more troublesome and came in the afternoon as I was nearing the station. 4-lane road, I’m in the far right lane and a string of cars are passing me in the next lane over. I hear an older-sounding truck engine behind me revving and glance back to see an 80’s era pickup on my 7. Not really having any option, since there was no sidewalk or shoulder, I continued along. The truck continued to rev the engine and nudge closer, moving to about my 8 o’clock, but not getting anywhere as the string of cars continued in the next lane over. At last there was a break and the truck quickly shot around me, gunning its engine loudly as it passed. Looking in the back window, I saw, again, a Confederate flag sticker… but was more interested in the driver’s arm gestures as he passed me. He didn’t flip me off, but it was a definite show of exacerbated emotions, perhaps because he couldn’t get around me quick enough? I couldn’t help but mock his arm gestures, which apparently really fueled the matter for him because he got both arms going and sped off. Sorry, dude, for holding you up all of a few seconds and keeping you from getting to the stop light sooner.

Otherwise, the commutes were relatively uneventful and pleasant. A bit of a headwind in the afternoon, but nothing particularly demoralizing. I’m feeling really good going into the last three days of BtWM.

I pushed this past week. Probably more than I should’ve. Yesterday morning, it was plainly evident that I was cooked; both L and I didn’t push more than 13mph for most of the ride in. When we arrived at work, my legs were jello and I was in a mental daze. I remember that feeling… and there’s a certain satisfaction buried within it. The world becomes muted, leaving just the simplicity of turning over the pedals and the immediate path before you. Once you stop or are otherwise snapped out of that state, it takes a little bit to come back up to the surface. Social interactions, family, work, etc…, all of it seems oddly alien for a short while.

Aside from exhaustion, the morning ride was quite pleasant. I did discover that I was erroneous in thinking that the squeaking I’d been hearing was associated with the fender matter. D’s fix (pictured below) has worked well to stabilize the fender, so when I continued to hear the chirp, I knew it was elsewhere. My heart sank a little when I realized that the sound was exactly like that made by a bird caller… metal on metal. After some vague diagnostic efforts while rolling, I figured it was either somewhere in the drivetrain or my pedals. Knowing there was little I could do at the time, I hoped to make it in to work without catastrophe. Fortunately, my hopes were met and D quickly determined that my left pedal was the culprit… a little Google-fu later, I discovered that many others have had similar issues with the Acid 2 pedals (e.g. either too little grease from the factory or the seals are so shoddy the pedals need to be rebuilt frequently). Awesome. I’m probably going to pull a good pedal off the Double Cross in the meantime.

Several people asked if I had plans for the long weekend: “Lots of rest” was my immediate response every time. So far, I’ve been quite successful in achieving this goal. I’m looking forward to 3 days of rest, then the final push… then a summer filled with leisurely rides. (Speaking of summer, the weather has been spectacular these past couple days, making it much easier to put in the miles.)

I pass a number of subdivisions with empty lots like that pictured below… can’t help but wonder if/when the lots will be built on.

I know I’ve posted similar shots of the same spot before… but, really, this stretch of road is the icing on the cake of my afternoon commute. There’s just something about sitting up and coasting through this spot that seems to make everything right in the world.

I’m tired, so this will be scattered and brief.

Saw the above guy on the way home. Awesome. License plates from a ton of different states (where he’s ridden?), clocks, xmas decor, flags and leg warmers. On the way in, I got dive-bombed by a starling. Otherwise, D got some awesome bending action on with a spare spoke I had and may’ve fixed the wobbling fender issue in a rather amusing fashion. The ride home was the initial test run; tomorrow will be the real test. G and I had a great conversation about balance, pacing, peaking and all the crazy things we do. Rolled homeward with brilliant sunshine, warm temps and a tailwind… friends making it all the much better.

Once home, I took some advice from a marathoner and drew a cold bath, dissolved some epsom salts in hot water on the stove, dumped that in the tub and then soaked for a half hour. Feel decent enough now. Wool socks and beanie definitely helped. Thankfully, there’s the three day weekend, which will be spent being as lazy as possible. Hoping the Karate Monkey makes it through the next 5 days of riding without issue… it’s the home stretch.

I witnessed a rather amusing, although troublesome, display of human behavior today while riding. I was on a long, straight stretch of 5-lane (4 + center turning) road through an industrial park… probably about 6:45am or so. Oddly enough, there was no oncoming traffic to be seen and it’d been some time since a car passed me. I should’ve known what was coming.

I heard a car approaching from behind and figured that it’d pass in the next lane over since, well, there wasn’t any traffic otherwise. Nope. The guy buzzed me and came in a little too close for comfort with his 80’s F250. Knowing full well it’d been intentional, I expressed my thoughts with a quick gesture. In hindsight, he must’ve been anticipating this (expecting? hoping for?), for as soon as my hand left the handlebar, his right hand sprung into action and mirrored my gesture. But the amusing part came when his left arm shot out the window and started pumping in the air and flopping around madly before he threw up the horns. Right hand: flipping me off, left hand: horns… and this went on for at least a good ten seconds before he pulled away.

It probably wasn’t the best idea for me to’ve given him the bird in the first place, but I felt like expressing myself succinctly and clearly. I wouldn’t have been shocked if the guy had stopped. There was a lot of anger in those few seconds of his hand gesturing.

Otherwise, the morning commute was really quite pleasant. Saw a billboard that had me chuckling for some time. Passed JG in the parking lot at the second meet-up spot; he was waiting to meet a couple other people. Caught up to K and AM a little bit later and we chatted per usual.

Later in the day, K indicated she wanted to head home a little earlier than expected, but figuring the sun was out and I’d had a long day, I decided to roll with her. Sun… is pretty sweet. The first 15 miles passed much quicker than I’d expected. Once we split off, my mind started going over stuff like the rear fender flopping around or how the chain sounded. When you spend 3.5 hours in the saddle each day, you get to know your bike pretty well (and your body, for that matter).

The fender has been a constant source of annoyance and tinkering. What’s basically happening, as far as I can tell, is that the fender itself is considerably wide and the mounting “arms” not stiff enough… so it starts shaking with essentially any movement of the frame. If it gets going hard enough, the arms start bouncing off the tire, which is what I end up hearing. I’ve tried getting the fender as close to the tire as possible, but that didn’t achieve anything other than more noise (as the sides of the fenders started also hitting the tire). The front one does it as well, but not nearly as much. My next thought is to graft spokes onto the lower arms to stiffen them up… we’ll see.

As for the chain… I’m currently trying out new lubes. I’d been using Ice Wax for some time, but I tend to “burn” through it fairly quickly (aka, 30 miles) and end up with a rather noisy drivetrain. Currently I’m giving White Lightning Epic lube a try… can’t say that I’m noticing any significant difference (aside from a mildly dirtier chain). Honestly, I really liked Ice Wax for its cleanliness… if only it stuck around as long as some of the heavier lubes.

Aside from those little things, the spectacular forecast for the next several days is looking to be a great payoff for the first few weeks of this month.

The forecast had called for a slightly breezy, but otherwise clear morning (tailwinds always welcomed)… turning into possible thunderstorms and 15 mph winds with gusts up to 25. I expected the afternoon commute to suck. A lot.

Not wanting to miss out on an opportunity to enjoy a long morning ride, I set out around 5:30am and cruised for the first 20 miles. Unexpectedly, I encountered K at the second checkpoint, who informed me that L was also set to arrive shortly. It was a pleasant surprise to have company for the rest of the ride in. Once L got there, we rolled on and passed the time with the usual chatter. At one point, K said she was hoping for good weather in the afternoon—L and I both paused before breaking the bad news.

The day passed rather quickly and I found myself looking at the local radar, watching a big blob of heavy rain make its way across my route. Outside, the winds were picking up. I was glad I had my rain gear.

Setting out, it really wasn’t all that bad. A few drops here and there, but nothing that’d classify as “heavy”. The winds, too, weren’t all that bad. As I rolled on, I was expecting it to get worse… and at one point, it did start raining harder, but it was short-lived. Most notably, the wind was rather mild. So when I rolled into the train station 15 miles later, much drier and far less exhausted than I’d expected, I was quite happy.

What’s better is that the forecasts for the rest of the week are pretty decent. Here’s to the hope that the crap weather is behind us.

I saw quite a few cyclists out riding this morning, 7 in total. Perhaps it seems more significant to me because I saw all but one of them before I got onto the trail. The one on the trail, though… well, when I first spotted him he was easily a half-mile ahead of me. Thinking it was G, I commenced what became a rather prolonged time-trial effort to catch up to him. During this effort, I clocked what may be my fastest flat-out pedaling speed on the Karate Monkey: 23 mph. Or at least that’s the fastest I’ve hit while looking at my computer. At that rate, I was getting more out of the upstroke than the downstroke. With the gear combo being essentially the same as 39×17, I’m finding my average cruising speed to be around 17 mph.

In any case, I finally did catch the person who I thought was G (it wasn’t him)… but it wasn’t without the assistance of some traffic lights and stop signs. I was definitely feeling the effects of the effort when I got in to work, and when I walked out from the locker room I saw G stretching on the floor—he’d been behind me and probably would’ve caught me had I not been sprinting my heart out for nearly 8 miles.

Speaking of numbers, apparently our May really has been one of the shittiest on record, with 3.6 inches of rain having already fallen in the first two weeks… and the average for the entire month being 2 inches. Needless to say, I’m happy to see the forecasts are generally improving (except for tomorrow’s).

In non-commuting news, I put some gears in motion to get some more advanced training and experience in bike mechanics/tech, with the end result (hopefully) being that I’ll be able to work in a shop if I wanted. I know that my general working knowledge is decent… but given the number of stupid mistakes I’ve made, coupled with my outright passion for bikes of all kinds, I figured going all out wouldn’t hurt.

I’ve been lucky enough to catch a fair amount of the Giro coverage since it started last week, and I have to say, I’m quite thankful for the free stream from Universal. I’ve especially relished the weekends, as I can leisurely drift in and out of consciousness while the live feed comes through on my laptop, my legs still aching from my own riding over the week. Typically I’m fully awake by the last 20k and can tote the laptop around the house as I brew coffee, make breakfast, glance at the headlines… settling in on the couch for the last 5 k.

When a friend emailed me this past Friday to ask how my Bike to Work Day was going, I replied that it was going splendidly and that I found it amusing that I tend to get more excited for BtWD than Christmas… or my birthday, for that matter. A coworker had also emailed me with a pic of their caravan at a meetup—18 people—commenting that the gregariousness of the event made their day.

In so many ways, the social aspects of the day make it what it is… that after a year, most of which spent alone (half in the dark), there’s a day that brings scores of people out to join up and roll along together. Throughout most of last week, emails and conversations were plentiful with friends and friends of friends thinking of riding and looking for a route or a group to join. Then the day arrives and it’s nothing but fun. Our company’s CEO showed up on a bike. There was a line for showers. People who bought bikes days before rolled in with grins on their faces, saying “that was awesome!” And really, that’s what does it for me… people having fun while bike commuting.

My own ride started off with a gorgeous sunrise and mostly empty roads, encountering fog as I approached the first meeting point. Linked up with J and rolled on to the next spot, chatting about this and that. As we neared the second meeting place, we passed Bianchi Dude, who was prepping his bike beside his car. He’s a regular on the trail and usually hauls ass. We knew he’d be passing us shortly and J schemed to jump on his wheel and shadow him for a while. When we hit the meet-up spot, the group had rolled out a minute before, so we pedaled on to catch up. Seconds later, BD came flying by and J went after him. They caught the group not too long after, which was riding in two lines and taking up the whole trail. J and I went up the middle of the group to say “hi” and BD shot through and made a break for it. I’m not sure he said anything to anyone. Bike path antics crack me up.

The caravan rolled on, counting bunnies and exchanging amusements. I really can’t think of a better way to ride to work. Arrived a little earlier than expected and grabbed breakfast with J. We overheard L telling some others about our little dance with BD, only to learn that the others had also been passed by BD and had given chase as well.

Around work, bikes were everywhere. I was a kid in a candy shop and took delight in seeing a number of project bikes and otherwise uncommon setups. We rolled out in the afternoon to brilliant sun and a light wind. G split off at 8 miles, J and K continued with me to mile 15 where I turned off on my own.

Even though I was feeling spectacularly about the day, I wasn’t so hot on having to ride through a particular section ahead of me—the Long Mile. Without question, it is the sketchiest stretch of any route I’ve ridden. On a map, it’s a mile of two-lane country road. Problem is, freight trucks have discovered that this road is an extremely convenient alternative and have been making use of it for several years. While already narrow, the road has a gravel “shoulder” that’s been chewed up into pothole after pothole, making it impossible to ride. The morning usually isn’t great, with one or two 16-wheelers coming through along with a number of diesel trucks… but the afternoon is by far much worse. I hit the stretch at roughly 5pm and white-knuckled it for five long minutes. Not far from the end, a car transport truck doing 40mph and taking up every inch of the lane flew by me, the displaced air literally pushing me off the road and the mirror just missing my head. I don’t think I’ve had any closer calls than that. Even now, thinking about it, my heart is pounding. I rode out the potholes and skidded to a stop to let the adrenaline subside a little.

I got rolling again and, surprise surprise, passed the truck as it waited at the light… rolling by slowly and staring into the cab. The driver was looking out his side window, away from me. I really wanted to knock on his door, scream at him, tell him how he’d nearly run me over. I wanted to scare him so deeply that he’d start campaigning for truck drivers to be more mindful of cyclists. I wanted him to understand just how fucking scary it is to hear that loud diesel engine roar behind you, how your whole body tenses and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you contemplate the next few miliseconds. I wanted to never have to fear for my life just because I choose to ride a bicycle. I wanted to be reassured that there aren’t drivers out there who intentionally harass cyclists, hate us vehemently, and if there were, that they’d realize that we’re no different from every other human being and could very well be their best friend, their partner, their family. In other words, I wanted to channel everything that bothers me about riding on roads with cars and somehow fix it with that one outburst. But I knew better. I knew that even if I did stop and chew the guy out, nothing would change… so I rolled on and tried to clear my head. When the option presented itself, I rode on the sidewalk for a while.

I made it back into town without incident and, while waiting for a light, an acquaintance passed by me in the crosswalk and asked how my Bike to Work day had gone and how far I’d ridden as they walked by. They continued to the other corner and my heart sank a little further as a car nearly ran them over as it took a right turn through the crosswalk.

Recognizing I needed to get off the road, I stopped at the pub and cooled off by the window. I noticed that a Look TT bike (KG961? Early 90’s?) was locked up out front, which distracted me for some time. More and more, older bikes fascinate me. Several bike commuters rode by while I was there, which also served to improve my mood. It was Bike to Work Day, after all (and a gorgeous one at that), and we were in it together.