Dave’s Good Stuff

Wherein those posts having to do with Cycling are grouped.

The Miles
Wherein I show off and analyze the miles I’ve ridden.
The Expenses
Wherein I show off how much money I’m saving by commuting by bicycle.
The Routes
Wherein I show the basic routes I use to get to and from work. Rarely does a day go by that I don’t alter the route a little here and there, but this gives a general idea.
The Rides
Wherein I show off what I ride to get from here to there.
The Whole Mess
The whole mess can be found on Google Spreadsheets. Noah has his up as well.

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.

While the Torelli is in the shop… or rather, while the wheel is in the shop getting straightened out, I’ve been on the Kona. It’s only been two days, but I’m already missing the tight handling and faster speeds.

Then again, it’s the faster speeds that landed the wheel in the shop to begin with, so maybe it’s for the best.

I took the Kona out yesterday for an long ride home by way of the Indian Creek Trail and the Gary Haller Trail. I ended up with just shy of 33 miles, and that because I ended up missing the turn into Shawnee Mission Park, and doubled back to grab it.

It would have been a perfect time to have the camera with me. Lots of stuff to take pictures of.

Beneath a bridge, there was a little boy playing in a bucket by the water. Standing guard was his little Jack Russel Terrier. It was very Norman Rockwell. I wish I’d had a camera. Though, these days, I would have had to have him sign a release to post his picture.

Later, on the trail was a group of suburban white guys in gangsta gear. They actually flashed gang signs at me as I passed them. That would have made a great picture too… assuming I could play it off w/o gettin’ cap busted in my ass.

Aside from those two moments, riding the trail is just so much more enjoyable than riding the streets. It almost qualifies as “time to myself” since I’m not dealing with drivers and their various “idiosyncrasies.”

The thing about the Kona is that it’s a heavy bike. I was more tired after 33 miles on it, than I would have been after 50 miles on the Torelli. Maybe 60, even. By the time I got to Shawnee Mission Park, I was ready to be home. I’d gone through three water bottles, grateful for working fountains along the trail, and my legs were aching. So were a lot of areas, but those were due to the crash the day before, rather than the ride. I’m reminded why I started riding the Kona to begin with, or why I didn’t mind riding it, anyway… it’s a great training bike. Ride a while on that, and riding the Torelli will feel like I’m flying.

I don’t laugh out loud often when I’m riding. I sing some, but I don’t see much that makes me laugh. This morning I took the short route into work on account of still feeling yesterday’s trail ride, and as I hit 76th Terrace and Antioch, I heard the unmistakable sounds of Gangsta Rap (or whatever they’re calling it these days). It was, to me, an odd sound at this time of morning. As I neared Antioch via a little parking lot, I found the source… a middle aged white male was sitting in… get this… a *mini-van* with this (c)Rap blaring. A mini-van! I nearly fell off the bike from laughing. I’m lucky I wasn’t shot, or worse yet, had a child seat thrown at me!

Well, I did it again. This time I was heading north on the Gary L Haller trail. I was near mile marker 15 just off Northgate, going down a shallow decline and picking up a little speed. I didn’t notice any caution signs indicating a sharp turn. When I got to the base of the “hill” and entered the turn, I was going way to fast for such a sharp turn, and brakes fully compressed, I went headlong, heels over head over heels into the brush.

I came to a stop, and all was quiet for a moment when *BANG!* my rear tire blew. Right about that time my left calf seized up good and proper and I recognized some of the signs of a good old fashioned adrenaline shot.

I took stock of things at this point. My calf was cramped pretty good. My right wrist and left hand were aching. The bursitis in my right shoulder had been aggravated. My left hip felt like it’d been hit with s sledge. I had minor scrapes and rash along both arms, my left knee and my left shoulder. Finally, I wrenched something a little bit in my lower back.

All in all… not a bad turnout, don’t you think?

Having taken stock of that, I hobbled over to the bike to asses the damage there. The rear tire was blown as I knew, and the wheel was warped a little. Too warped to ride, but not too warped to repair. Other than that, everything looked just fine. The Garmin didn’t even pop out of the mount, and the rear light was still blinking expectantly.

Today, the aches of yesterday have turned into full blown pains. I don’t look nearly as bad on the outside as the last crash, but I feel worse on the inside.

The wheel is at the Trek store for truing (I really need to get my own truing stand), and so I’m on the Kona for the next couple of days.

Maybe I’ll stay off the trails for a while… ;)

It was actually a little chilly this morning, and a mist had settled in places as I made my way slowly to work. Slowly b/c last night was a bit of a late night.

The sky is getting progressively darker every morning. Slowly, but surely, it’s getting closer to the day I’ll need to mount the light back on the Torelli. I know, I know… I’ve been running without a headlight for a while now. I’ll mount it soon, I’m sure. Once I do that, I’ll lose my front frame bag to the battery, so I’m going to have to get a fanny pack to carry the gear that the Kona carried effortlessly, yet the Torelli struggles with.

On the way in, amidst admiring the sunrise, and the mist crawling the yards, I saw about a dozen cyclists. This is more in one day than I’ve seen all month. In one case, three were riding side by side in nearly full team racing gear, completely with derblinkenlights and backpacks, northbound on Lamar. In every case, the observed cyclists were going the opposite way. I’m weird, I guess, heading south when everyone else heads north.

There are no pictures this morning, but look for them soon. I opted for the Canon Powershot G9. It’ll arrive on Thursday, according to the tracking information. It may be more camera than I need, but Mom and Dad taught me to never settle for less than you want. Put it off if you have to, but save up and get the thing you want. It promotes more happiness that way.

The addition of weight work and running in the morning before my ride has, so far, worked out very well. MWF I work some weights (nowhere near as much as I used to be able to do, but I’ll get it back in short order), and TRS I run. It still amazes me that I can ride 100+ miles, and yet have a hard time running 1 mile. I bet I just need new shoes. That’s it. I’m sure that’s all it is…

There have been many articles lately about the rising tension between motorists and cyclists. You can read about it in the New York Times, Reuters newswire, The Wall Street Journal, the Austin Cycling News, Newsweek, and a wide variety of other sources.

Frankly, I’ve just not seen it. I’ve been out nearly every day riding my route, peacefully and almost entirely without incident. In fact, I can count on one hand the times I’ve been “harassed”, and both times it was very easy to chalk it up to idiocy. The first was a (pardon my stereotypes here) three toothed, chew spittin’ redneck on a country road yelling “Dip Ass!“, and the second was a pair of know-it-all high school jocks in daddy’s pick up.

Aside from that, I’ve had numerous men and women offer admiration and encouragement. Two quite attractive young women even offered me a ride. Stupid me, I didn’t think to ask where we were going to ride to. ;) Just the other day, I got into a brief exchange with a fellow at an intersection who good-naturedly told me I was crazy, and then said how he wished he could do the same. I talked about how much better I felt and how much gas money I’d saved, and told him if he really wanted to, he’d find a way. He looked thoughtfully at me, nodded, wished me luck and safety and the light turned.

I have no idea what motorists are *thinking* when I pass by them, or they pass by me. I know there are many motorists who hate cyclists. A visit to the comments section on any cycling story in the news will tell you that. (I like how the Tuscon Bicycle Lawyer puts it here). I do know that if they’re thinking anything negative, they aren’t saying it out loud, and more than a few times, they’ve said very positive things to me.

Is there a rising tension between cyclists and motorists? I’ve certainly not seen it, and I very much doubt it. Does reporting on such a phenomena sell papers? You bet it does.