Tag Archives: Advocacy

Fun Saturday Ride

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I meant to publish this earlier, but got pretty busy, and didn’t get around to it. Better late than never, I sometimes say.

On Saturday, my flat-inducing buddy and I rode out from his driveway on a 40 miler from Liberty, to Excelsior Springs, back through Kearney, and then on back to Liberty. It was a fantastic, scenic, mildly hilly, and altogether peaceful ride.

Some highlights include the fact that no one yelled at us (nope, not once), neither of us had any mechanical difficulties (perhaps Jon’s Flat Tire Curse has abated?), and the scenery was gorgeous.

In Excelsior Springs, we stopped at a Subway for a refueling at the 20 mile mark. Neither of us were really tired, but we were both getting a bit peckish. The real, if all to brief highlight was there. While we were eating, we noted a rather stout teenager sporting a purple close cropped pointed mohawk come in with his Mom. As we were gathering our gear to leave, he asked us how far we’d gone. A short conversation ensued through which he was very clearly and boldly impressed by what we’d done so far.

Encouraged by his lack of derision and open admiration, we chatted with him for a while, and assured him that 20 miles isn’t that hard if you build up to it. Start with a mile. Then 2. Then 5. Then 10. Slowly, but quicker than you realize, you’re pulling 20 miles, then 40, then metric centuries, and finally centuries. With any luck at all, his admiration will turn into inspiration and he’ll find his way onto a saddle with a water bottle in hand and a granola bar, rather than on the lounge chair with a XBox controller in hand and a bag of Doritos.

Not that those are bad things, mind you; I do love me some gaming and salty preservative chiplets, but there’s gotta be a balance.

We left him, and wished him luck and good fortune, and were back out on the road for another 20 miles.

All in all, a fantastic ride.

Bikes at the Garage Door. The weather was a fantastic 72°F and we were ready to go. Well… I was, you can see all his gear next to the garage door anxiously awaiting him.

My Bike Computer. HR is a little high for just standing around. Though the driveway was a little steep, so I had to work to keep my balance.

Jon’s Bike Computer. The two bike computer pictures were taken seconds apart. There must be some sort of End World-esque time distortion going on to have them show such disperate times. I’m sure that’s it… it’s the simplest explanation.

Jon in front of a Great View. This photo really doesn’t do it justice. It really was beautiful.

Just around the corner from the aforementioned Great View. This one is a better representation, but still doesn’t do it justice. Though you can’t see it, waaaaay off in the distance is Kearney.

Off the Route. We took a detour past Excelsior Springs to enjoy a fantastic twisty turny windey downhill run through a tunnel of trees. It really was awesome. It resulted in having to recalculate our route, and then immediately making a several hundred foot climb over the course of several hundred yards. It was definitely worth it, though.

Jon in the Distance. You can’t see him, but he’s back there.

A Little History.

A Nice Home Nestled in the Trees.

End of the ride stats.

To Wear, or Not to Wear…

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BikeSnobNYC is a blogger I read every now and again. I tend to grow a bit drowsy when he dives into the Craig’s List swamp, but on the other hand, his take on much of cycling culture is spot on, or at least good for a laugh, and his sarcastic, biting, no mercy sense of humor is truly inspiring.

Still, something he wrote recently struck a chord with me, and as such, I’ll share it with you. To wit:

This journal [theridejournal.com] is nicely ecumenical in its approach to cycling, but one theme that came up and made me think was that of looking good on the bike. Not looking good in the sense of looking like a Euro-pro, but rather looking good in the sense of being able to wear street clothes comfortably while riding. In particular, in “Velocouture,” Patrick Barber points out that up until now in the US cycling style has been driven by sport rather than practicality, since riding here is traditionally seen as a recreational pastime and not as a means of transportation. “In a way,” he writes, “thinking about cycling in street clothes requires that you shift your thinking about why you are on your bike. Instead of being in workout mode, you are in going-somewhere-but-want-to-look-good mode: to work, on a date, to the coffee shop.” Ultimately, his point is that by being a normal well-dressed person on a bike instead of a peloton refugee in lycra you inspire other people to do the same and to integrate riding into their everyday lives.

He then goes on to basically say, in many more words than I’ll use here, that cyclists should be able to wear what they want, pretty much when they want. As long as it meets decency laws. Period.

I agree both with his final conclusion (to a point), and the idea that one would make cycling more accessible and agreeable by wearing normal clothes while out doing our thing. It’s obvious, when you think about it…

Seeing us out on the road tricked out in full kit presents an entry barrier. “I could never ride a bike,” one thinks, “because I could never look as good as HE does.” That’s what they think. Mark my words. However, if I were to be seen on a shiny new, say… Dew Drop, wearing what amounts to street clothes, then one would certainly think “I may never look as good as HE does, but I could get close. I think I’ll go out right now and buy a bike. But not like his. His looks way too cool for me. I’ll go dumpster diving for student cast-offs.”

I really don’t care what gets people to ride, so long as people get out and ride. The more people ride, the more we’ll be seen as a normal part of life on the road, and the quieter people like this might be.

If wearing normal clothes will help, I might consider it, but only if I can wear my full team kit underneath.

… All the Damn Vampires.

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I gave blood today. It was my first time. I know… I’m a bad person. I should regularly give blood. For someone with a BSW, you’d think I’d be more charitable, wouldn’t you?

Well.. I gave today. So hush.

The actual experience was pretty tame. I filled out a questionnaire, and then they took my temperature and blood pressure, and checked my heart rate and hemoglobin. Everything was within the necessary limits, so they made me drink a bottle of water and eat a donut before they’d stick me. Having done their bidding, I laid down on the gurney and they stuck me with a needle. Not just any needle, mind you, but a huge needle with a cavernous gaping maw in the business end that spoke to me from the depths of Hades, demanding, what else but, a blood sacrifice. The nurse, oblivious to the dialog between the needle and I, simply asked me to squeeze a little stress ball for 5 seconds on and off.

While I was squeezing, I had to wonder about the implements they were using. Some of them looked like legitimate torture devices. There were these pliers on the instrument stand next to the bandages and plastic fangs that had the look of pliers one might find a fellow named Guido approaching you with after he’d beaten the pus out of you for stiffing his boss on last months protection racket. I didn’t ask about them. I really didn’t want to know.

Having appeased the Needle God, I had a small cup of RC and a few Nutter Butters. I felt ok, but they insisted. The nurse was impressed with my choice of RC. She grinned and said I was “Old School”. It was honestly the only glimpse of personality I saw in the staff. I guess they get tired of dealing with people throwing out the same old jokes day after day. Plus, I guess when you’re handling people’s blood in one hand and large gaping needles in the other, it’s probably best to be totally serious all the time. The last thing you want is to bust up laughing at some dillwad’s jokes, only to stab him in the throat with the needle, or stick the bag and have his blood dump out all over your nice white apron.

All in all, not an unpleasant experience.

One of the guys after me had a bit of a bleeder. They took the needle out, and the blood just kept on coming. It wasn’t that bad, actually, but I had high hopes. I was hoping to at least watch the little cotton balls fill up red one after another. Better still would be spraying jets of blood coating the walls with crimson horror while he jerked around in some spastic dance of terror, screaming and crying like a newborn, his convulsions tearing through the room like Katrina through New Orleans.

Oh well, you can’t have everything…

My heart rate was 68, which is high for me. I was resting, but maybe I was a little nervous, what with it being my first time, and it being only about an hour since my ride in. Also, my blood pressure was 140/70. I don’t mind the 70 part, but the 140 bit is worth watching. I’ve never had high blood pressure, but the last time it was checked about 3 months ago, and then today, it was elevated a bit. Both times, however, it was checked right after at least one cup of coffee, so I’m going to keep a cautious, but unworried eye on it. Maybe the caffeine affected my heart rate as well…

Now I’m back at my desk, my arm bandaged up tight. If I start to fade in and out over the course of the day, let someone know, would you?

Johnny Bondon Found Guilty

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Fantastic news!

Mark Breeding attended the court proceedings and filed the following report:

Mr. Bondon was found guilty of attempted assault with the judge describing it as classic road rage. He escalated a minor exchange into a terrifying confrontation that required police involvement.

The penalties prescribed by the judge include: ninety day sentence with two days served in jail, two years probation and an anger management class. Mr. Bondon is presently free on bond.

Summary of the trial proceeding: Defense claims that the cyclists hit the Bondon Hummer with a water bottle and yelled profanities at him for turning in front of them.

Bicyclists Matt and Richard assert that they did nothing aggressive beyond the comment of “you couldn’t wait ten seconds” before turning. From this the stories converge to the point of the Hummer being driven across the yard to intercept the riders and a confrontation taking place. Bondon claims no bumping of the cyclists or physical attack took place. Richard and Rachel made it clear they thought that a possible life or death situation was taking place, initially believing that Mr. Bondon was carrying a handgun.

The judge felt that he needed to send a message to Mr. Bondon who he said obviously feels he did no wrong. He made mention of Mr. Bondon’s high profile as former Jackson County Sports Authority Chairman.

The defense attorney asserted that the riders had provoked the confrontation and that the prosecution was a vendetta by a group of avid cycling advocates. He worked the words “WMD” and “conspiracy” into the summation.

Character issues were emphasized during the trial, with testimony from bicyclist Matt Maher, a school teacher, Richard Gordon, a consultant for one of the nation’s largest nonprofits, and Rachel Thompson, a chemist.

The two defense witnesses were a Lees Summit police officer and Mr. Bondon’s second cousin, a two time convicted felon currently on probation.

Mr. Bondon tended to elaborate beyond the questions asked by defense counsel and did not keep his composure under cross by prosecutor Craig Sweeney. He gave the impression having some impulse control problems.

Much was made by the defense of discrepancies between the Richard and Rachel’s testimony and subsequent playing of their 911 calls. This was pretty much dismissed by the judge. There was some sharp give and take between defense and prosecution throughout the proceedings and I really had no idea how the judge would rule.

And now for a personal comment: Where were all of you? Aside from court officers and one spectator, Matt’s parents and myself were the only people there for the duration of the trial. You missed a great day for cyclists here in KC.

Another comment: If William Johnson had killed the Gaunts on the other side of Longview Lake, he would probably be in jail today.

The prosecution put forward by Mr. Sweeney was zealous. Much more so than what I witnessed during my time at the Gaunt trial.

Bike Commuting Causes Pollution

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Last night at pool league, a friend of mine brought in a copy of the Wall Street Journal. There was an article about a local San Francisco wanna-be politician, Rob Anderson who has effectively stalled the installation of bike lanes in San Francisco because…

Cars always will vastly outnumber bikes, he reasons, so allotting more street space to cyclists could cause more traffic jams, more idling and more pollution. Mr. Anderson says the city has been blinded by political correctness. It’s an “attempt by the anti-car fanatics to screw up our traffic on behalf of the bicycle fantasy,” he wrote in his blog this month.

I am not able rightly to apprehend the kind of confusion of ideas that could provoke such a conclusion.

House Passes Bike Commuting Fringe Benefit Bill

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Just what the title says. If I understand it correctly, it’s just like flex dollars applied towards health benefits, but applied towards bike commuting expenses. Furthermore, I don’t think it’s a mandatory program.

Anyone care to clarify?

On a related note, I wrote an e’mail to my insurance agent months ago to ask if there were any discounts or benefits that could be applied due to my bike commuting. I haven’t heard back yet. Huh.

On Being Elitist in the Chilly Morning Air

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While the debate rages on and moves to topics unrelated to road rage (as one would fully expect), and while Noah asks similar questions regarding attire, I consider my own morning.

The air was definitely chilly at <60°F. It’s amazing how quickly we adapt, isn’t it? Three months ago, 60°F was a delight. This morning it was a touch chilly. I paused briefly to consider my own attire, and decided to forgo additional layers and weather the chill, knowing that this afternoon would be warmer. Within minutes of my ride, I was plenty warm, and glad of my choice.

I didn’t think about the article or the debate in the comments section on my ride in. I rarely think about such things. Most of my attention is on the road, obstacles, cars, and sheer enjoyment of my commute that I never, not once, felt in my car. Now and again, when I have something pressing on my mind, I’ll spend a larger portion of my ride inwardly turned. But that’s rare.

When I got to work and plugged in, however, the debate had continued and expanded since yesterday. It’s odd to me how an article about a man using an H2 as a lethal weapon, threatening the lives of two cyclists because he thought they threw a water bottle at his dainty fragile H2 Compensatory can so quickly tangent to a discussion about the elitism of cyclists with their tight emblem decorated clothing.

Meanwhile, Noah asks “Are cut-off jeans the difference between ‘guy on a bike’ and ‘cyclist?’”

Interesting timing. I’ll get to that.

As for myself, I wear relatively loose fitting wicking athletic jerseys I got for $10 at Target and far more expensive tight fitting cycling shorts, complete with chamois. I wear cycling socks with reflective bands around my ankles, and $200 MTB shoes on $10 pedals. I wear a Giro racing helmet and slightly wrap-around sunglasses. That’s my warm weather commute costume. I reckon I look pretty silly.

You know what? I couldn’t care less what it looks like. It works for me. Furthermore, I couldn’t care less what you wear. Find what works, and go with it. If it doesn’t work, change it. A commenter in the aforementioned debate considers it “elitist” to wear tight fitting specialized cycling gear, especially when said gear has team logos and whatnot on it. Bah. I consider that attitude short sighted, dismissive and prejudicial.

Back to Noah’s question… I don’t believe clothes draw the line between a “guy on a bike” and a “cyclist.” In fact, as far as I’m concerned, there is no line because there is no difference. If you’re just out with the family on a lazy afternoon ride through the park, or a “weight weenie” on a mission to maximize your aerobic/anaerobic/VO2 whatever… you’re a guy on a bike, and you’re a cyclist, and you should be proud and happy to be either and both. Just be who you are and let insecure, easily threatened folk spread vitriolic labels because that’s the closest they’ll get to knowing the joy we feel when we’re spinning hard in the saddle.

I don’t think for a second that Noah needs this sort of pep talk. I’m not directing it to him. I do know for a fact, however, that there are people out there that put the weird and far-too-tight clothing up there next to lack-of-safety as an obstacle to getting out on a bike. I’m talking to them… not that they’re the types to come across this tiny little corner of the intarwebs. Still, it doesn’t hurt to try.

In the end, no matter what, just ride on…

Mileage Goal… Halfway There.

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Oh, and another thing…

I hit 2,528 miles this weekend. That’s over halfway to my 5,000 mile goal for the year.

Other interesting things from my bikejournal.com… er… journal:

This month I’ve spent 25 hours, 10 minutes and 32 seconds in the saddle.
I’ve spent 177 hours, 27 minutes and 23 seconds in the saddle all year. Approximately, of course. That’s more than a full week.
I’ve burned roughly 150,000 calories this year riding my bikes.
I’ve ridden over 182 separate times.

Ride on…

Road Rage Incident in Longview

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I know I said, not long ago, that I would refrain from posting negativity here. In posting this, I hope to avoid negativity. Let me know how it works out, will ya?

An incident occurred on June 4th that has had the cycling community in KC up in arms. I’ve not mentioned it here b/c I didn’t want to talk about it before it went public. It’s in the KCStar now, complete with the same rough-around-the-edges style of commenting from both cycling supporters and detractors alike.

To be clear, I wasn’t there. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m going to try to make the court date on July 28th to show my support for Maher. My brief encounter with him at the Epic Time Trial was extremely positive, and left me with a very good impression. See, I’d ridden off to use the portapotty, and like a completely doltish noob, did so without my helmet. That’ll get you DQ’d from an official USCF event in no time flat. Fortunately for me, they knew I was a doltish noob, and instead of DQ’ing me, Maher brought me my helmet without the slightest hint of disparity.

Because I wasn’t there, I’m not qualified to speak to the events, but (understanding that I’m biased) two things from the article really stand out to me…

Former Jackson County Sports Authority Chairman John R. Bondon’s lawyer states “I’d like to see evidence that he did anything… If he really did what they’re saying, ask yourself, ‘Was he put in handcuffs? Was he taken downtown?’” I can’t comment on that without being sarcastic. Believe me, I’ve tried. I must have written and erased nearly the same thing half a dozen times. Suffice to say that police officers are always pure of heart, are never corrupt, and always take the bad guy in.

See? There it is. Sarcasm. I’m sorry…

Later, the article relays Bondon’s side a bit… “He claimed not to own a sap and said he didn’t strike Maher in the face. The only reason he tore out after the cyclists, he said, was because he thought they’d thrown a water bottle at his truck.” So… an H2, designed to be absurdly durable, allegedly under siege by *gasp* a WATER BOTTLE is obviously a clear and present danger situation. The only course of action left to this 61 year old was obviously to threaten the lives of the individuals he *thought* nearly destroyed his precious H2 with a water bottle.

Damn. There it is again. Sarcasm. I’m really sorry.

I responded to the article, and in a fit of vanity, would like to cross post it here for my own keeping…