Biking With Brad

Biking With Brad Meets Family Ride

2011-12-31T18:29:00.001-08:00

Every once in a while, you meet your cycling mirror image, or that is, every once in a while, you meet a cool biker mom who does all the coolest things you like to do. Well Madi Carlson is all of those things plus the December 2011 Cascade Cyclist of the Month (there should be a calendar, amirite?). And in this case, I'm just delighted that she and her boys like to play with me and mine.

Friday, We went out in the windy December weather to find fun for the kids before they get wrapped up in school and work and the drudgery that will accompany them for the rest of their natural-born lives. University of Washington is a giant beautiful ghost town during the breaks and it was looking like rain so a Tour du Structures de Stationnement (Tour of Parking Garages) seemed in the offing.

Before we get to the story line, I must say that Madi's bike is dazzling. She took the time to get the frame, fork, racks, and fenders painted to the same dye lot. She also has it decked out like we would all like to have. Where I have a Wald Paperboy rack for $45, she has a matching European front basket. Where I content myself with moderately functional Sturmey drum front hub scavenged from an earlier, dead-end cruiser build, she has a matching black Shimano dyno with disc brakes. Where I have brake levers scrounged out of a parts bin coming from an old Raleigh city bike, hers ergonomically fit and are machined to high tolerances, giving sure braking feel. Elegant is what she's got in spades. Just look at that jacket! Don't ever let people tell out that cycling is anti-materialist. We sure are, but we have our own aesthetic cues and trust me, I am fully outclassed.

We met up on the Burke and we instantly recognized each other from past playdates and a general Je

ne sais quoi that has to do with neither of us wearing day glo yellow or green nor clippy shoes. We both seem to ride every wheel turn with our lights on. You never can be too careful, well except that our kids ride in traffic with us, but seriously, do you ever have fun driving your kids around? We I sure have a fun time riding with my kids so maybe there's a secret in there somewhere.

We then rode over to UW and into the parking garage under Red Square. This garage featured ramps that the kids could ride up as well as down and very few cars for the kids to have to dodge. It was also warmer than the outside air and we had a great time with it. We cruised around campus, visited the geology department to see cool rocks, rode on the top of Red Square and intimidated a BMX'er with our mad handling skilz and then ventured down through the Medical Center parking garage and on to Pizza at Furhman and Eastlake (excellent pizza, by the way). Next, we moved onto the Colonnade under I-5. Thorvald has grown into the 20 inch bike world and was in need of some gearing to make the hills around here somewhat bearable so St. Nicholas, in the form of a biking enthusiast named Brad, gave him a 2011 Scott Voltage 20 for Christmas. That same philanthropic dad, wanted him to have a good time on it so, well, we just had to try some gnarly drops with it and Thorvald is clearly up to the task. He even rode the rubber bridge and and took the long downhill with aplomb.

Both kids rode up and down and I can now appreciate how useful balance bikes are for any junior mountain biker at least up through 5 years old. Kids love being able to put both feet down and can ride even the most difficult obstacles on balance bikes that were impossible on the larger, more purpose driven mountain bike. Still, Thorvald loves to ride both and Astrid (foreground) is oh so close to pedaling her own 16 inch bike. We just got her out of diapers and here we are almost to the point where the whole family pedals. I couldn't be prouder.

Much has been made recently by Ms. Family Ride as to a genial competition among Seattle cycling parents to either ride the furthest, heaviest, steepest, or most complicated kid/bike contraption and I rather think that she equates me as the Alpha Dog of said city/interest group. I would say no, there will always be one greater.

I don't dismiss a little envy here or there, but I have to say that I have a wonderful time with like minded and frankly first rate minded people. But there are limits:

Upon showing this photo to the boys at Surly Bicycles, they retorted "Brad, Never show that picture to our lawyers. Seriously, though, awesome." It should be noted that my kid is the one going ballistic in that photo.

So when you see Ms. Family Ride out there, buy her a cup of coffee or hot chocolate and by all means, take a photo of her bike. It's the prettiest one you will ever see.

Snoqualmie tunnel with two stylish women and four awesome kids

2011-09-24T23:58:00.000-07:00

Blogger is stupid, in fact retarded as it places photos only at the top of a page so I'm going to follow in the stupidity and tell my story backwards, except that videos don't follow these stupid little blogger idiosyncrasies so that will happen out of reverse order:

We ended our trip after seeing the snow tunnel by riding back up the hill and through the tunnel.
Family Ride's R is super fast on his balance bike and I've got to say that wicker baskets totally take our plastic baskets to task.
Here is the mouth of the abyss. We had lights but a new technology employed this time was the hand held "flashlight" which worked great and allowed us to see surface features on the inside of the tunnels, including the doors, spaced every couple of decameters. Here we are also suiting up so to deal with the 50 degree cold and slight wind.
Leggings, sweaters, hats, and pacifiers, the stuff of any serious cycling family.
Here is Madi looking fabulous while all of us played around on the new sign for the tunnel.
Our trip begins this day when we are finally able to get three family bikes with baskets and seats onto an ostensibly three bike rear rack. I'm guessing the weight on the rear to be somewhere around 200 lbs. Madi's bike only slipped off once!

And of course, what do kids like to do during a big bike ride but contribute to soil erosion by throwing rocks off a hill and into a stream. Note the helmet use while playing. We really don't play that safe most of the time.

Val Kleitz Remembered (Labor Day Cargo Bike Ride)

2011-09-04T20:52:00.000-07:00

This is just a piece of the many great memories I've had with Val Kleitz. Here we were on January 1st, 2011, perhaps the coldest day of the year, eating Pho and talking transportation politics. It's too bad that I only caught the last part of Val's brilliant edition, but him talking is what prompted me to start recording.

Come ride in his memory on Labor Day, 2011. The ride starts at 1 PM at 20/20 cycles in Seattle and goes more or less up through the U District. Kids are especially welcome and will be applauded if they ride or are towed, or however they come.

Val made me the cyclist I am. Ride on, good friend.

More info here

Crankspedition 2011: Hawkins-Egbert-Schmidt Edition

2011-06-27T22:44:00.000-07:00

Traveling light, we the many, the proud, the unfearful of rain, did trudge our ourselves, our families and our bikes out to the wettest spot in all of Washington last weekend. Yes, we were rained on but not as much as I had feared. Above you will find my kiddy stroller-bike hauler-pickup truck loaded light and featuring an extra kid from another family, Schmidt clan, I believe. I'm still loading pictures from the rest of the trip but these somehow loaded so I'll form my narrative structure around the few that I have.

Pictured above is also our attempt at the end of the road in the Suiattle river valley. The deindustrialization of America is great for biking as it tends to close roads and revert rail rights of way into bike trails. You can now go for days traversing the Cascade mountain range and hardly see a car, riding dirt and often asphalted roads that have been closed to cars for want of public funding approval. Keep it up, Tea Partiers. I love biking these roads, now seemingly made just for me and my family.

On the way back, I decided to grab a few snapshots of our load. That is a Coleman double rectangular sleeping bag that weighs, I kid you not, 38 lbs. It's a little unwieldy but it sure it great for snuggling in a tent and the kids just love jumping on it and making forts out of it so we keep dragging it around. I figured out a better way to strap it on the Big Dummy so we will probably keep using it despite the lack of cool factor. Note that I do haul out my trash. What? Do you think I'm some sort of heathen?

The kids here are super tired from a full day riding and digging and playing. Thorvald, pictured right just rode 10 miles on his own bike and is ready for a nap, hopefully he doesn't take one before he gets into the car. It's never fun to have a nap interrupted, at any age. Astrid is working with her baby doll and all of the camping clothing and sundries are stuffed into the two shopping bags in the front basket. This is not the stuff of REI advertising campaigns.

Here's the bored front shot of the kids. "can we go now, dad?" Note also that two kids bikes fit nicely on the outside of a tent and grocery bag, balancing nicely with the sleeping bag on the right.

And so we did, and so we drove home, saw some rodeo, chased some sheep, drove some miles, and eventually we all got to cuddle with mama.
On the whole, it was the nicest camping trip I've ever done with my kids and I will be planning more, even reporting more fully on this one for I seem to have no good pictures as of yet of my dear friends, the Schmidts and the Egberts. That will change!!!!

Is this the way drivers solve their problems?

2011-02-27T23:11:00.000-08:00

War on cars, indeed..........

It looks as though a member of the Tea Party or a regular commenter to a "bicycle accident news story" was visiting down in Brazil over the weekend. Tell me conservatives, when you talk about using 2nd amendment options or about the intrinsic rights as a driver that you may have over all others, do you ever think about the consequences?

From now on, anyone who drives at me, revs their engine, or otherwise threatens me on my bike will be contacted by the police. Zero tolerance. That's another cute little line conservatives and bike haters (one and the same) like to trot out.

Zero tolerance.

Mercer Street Open House

2010-09-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

I went to an open house set up by SDOT and the city of Seattle at the Lopez room at Seattle Center today. They were outlining what will happen to Mercer Street west of Dexter after the new changes take place in South Lake Union. I took the kids. They were the only ones and not at all welcome. I say: this is real representative government and if you want 20-30 somethings to take part it political discourse, you have to allow toddlers.

So here is what I found: (the comment I just placed at Seattle Bike Blog as well)

Roy doesn’t go through as a bicycle corridor. You have to take Roy to Dexter. Left and then right onto Mercer on the planned wide sidewalk (16ft, currently 5), then right on Taylor and left up Roy.

Also, Gates Foundation is pushing for the curved alignment that would make a steeper grade in and out of the Mercer underpass. There was some talk by engineers present about making the sidewalk less steep and have it not completely follow the contour of the street. I hope that is the case.

At this point, there are no bike lanes planned for Mercer Street between Dexter and 1st Ave N. The assumption is that cyclists will flip to Roy and then come back onto to Mercer at Queen Anne Ave where the bike lane will continue to 3rd Ave W. There will be no bike lane between 3rd Ave west and Elliott Ave. Studies will be performed to determine if another uphill lane can be installed on Mercer Place but one source at the meeting told me that cutting back Kinnear Park to make way for a transportation enlargement is a non-starter with the city of Seattle.

I can’t really determine at this point what the city has planned to fix the gridlock that will be placed at the corner of new Aurora and Harrison, where the new off ramp will be. I was also met with smirks when I asked where the toll booths are going to be placed. The best reply, besides “that’s not my area…….” was that they will take pictures of your license plate and bill you every 6 times you go through the tunnel. Nice idea but don’t people get out of red light camera tickets by just stating that they were not driving their car? Will that loophole be changed or will the city just collect tolls from the honest people? What about out of staters?

So my reply to the license plate photography was “that will go over great with the tea partiers” which brought stunned, deer in the headlights, looks from people.

Should be interesting, but it will look so much better and much less complicated if Aurora just has a series of stoplights starting at Roy.

Recharting my memories: Oregon Randonneurs 600k, August 28-29

2010-09-14T22:43:00.000-07:00

This, my friends is an NFD, a National Forest Development Road. These roads criss cross Oregon in every imaginable path and may be the reason that Oregon can lay claim to the best cycling in the country. Sure, you've heard about Portland and all of their bikey, crunchy, velo ways, but that is relegated largely to inner east side flat land riding that depends on grid-like street patterns set on a very gentle grade. NFD's are the exact opposite of any road I've been on. They are paved logging roads; paved because the federal government made a lot of money from timber sales in Oregon and gave it back in this way so as to spur tourism, or sight seeing, or development in the back country or whatever. I'm glad they did, because Oregon seems to have hundreds of miles of 1.5 lane paved roads that see less than 10 cars a day. It's amazing. And even better, these roads don't just form a pass through the mountains. No, like a good logging road, they access as much of the mountain as possible, so you go up steeply and then you meander around the tops of these mountains, climbing and dropping, enjoying the views, and then rushing down into the next valley as steeply as you got there. In Washington, the mountains have not been as developed (read: exploited?) so there are only a few super highways through the mountains and the rest is private or public gravel roads where you might think that you need a Fargo or even a Pugsley.
So, let me tell you about my weekend:
The Oregon Randonneurs organized a ride on August 28th and 29th of this year and as I pored over my schedule, I realized that if I wanted to do a 600k in 2010, this would have to be it. The only trick was that this ride would require some serious travel to get to and from, logistics for night time stays, and would cost a comparative arm and a leg to the SIR offering on September 11th.
So, we made a big weekend out of it. Claire had some clients to go visit along the way in Olympia and Eugene, we both have family in the Willamette Valley, and there was this super big ride scheduled for Saturday and Sunday. In the photo above, we are visiting my high school and seeing old sights from my salad days.
600 kilometers works out to 374 miles and so to maximize our daylight, the ride start was set for 5 AM, Shanico Inn, Lebanon Oregon, be there or be square. Our hotel was 21 miles away in Corvallis with nice access to a college campus where I could ride around with my son and goof off with family so I pre-rode to Lebanon starting at 3 so as not to wake the kiddies and mess up anyone's schedule. I really like riding to the ride since I know that I don't have to worry about tying up a car, and it gives me a sense of self reliance as well as a quasi spiritual mental preparation for the day. It also connects the ride in my mind to my home, or in this case, my hotel room, and makes it more of a journey rather than a race or event. Of course, that all can change if I wuss out, but you get the idea.
Above, you see Ian Shopland and Steve Barnes in the foreground. Steve had contacted me about getting a ride home to Seattle and he looks fast so I figure, no problem. Ian is a known fast quantity so I'm hoping to hang with him for a while since his conversations are always so charming and go with the flow. Then I expect to get dropped for a couple of hundred miles and then end up here at the Shanico, preferably while the sun is still shining, the very next day.
I arrived at 4:30 AM at the Shanico and chatted with others getting ready for the ride, became a member of Oregon Randonneurs (I'm now a member of RUSA, Seattle International Randonneurs, Adventure Cycling, Bicycle Alliance of Washington, Cascade Bicycle Club, Feet First, and now, Oregon Randonneurs, man what a joiner!) paid my fee, learned the handshake, and then listened to the pre ride ammendments and report. Everyone's pretty giddy at this point and I'm obviously not paying such close attention because I'm snapping photos. But it's pretty exciting. This is my second 600k attempt. The first was in 2007 where I tried to ride clockwise around the Olympic Peninsula with SIR and had a crisis of conscience and of knees in Aberdeen. I had called my wife that fateful morning and that DNF has hung over my head for 3 years while I found time to get back into randonneur events while juggling my lovely little children.
Everyone has slightly different gear choices. Pictured here, Susan Otcenas is checking up on changes to the route sheet. Right after that photo was taken, a control volunteer found my keys, which I had left in the room. I went to pick them up and then all the riders asked as if in unison "what do you need keys for?". I paused, noted the 2 lb u-lock on my bike which would be rendered useless without the keys but which would also contribute very marginal utility on the ride, and put both in my drop bag, a bag that would be lovingly lugged to the over night control at mile 230, and then lovingly lugged back to the Shanico the next day. Susan wryly noted that "there are no extra points for extra weight". I'm a guy who carries kids, groceries, cellos, tuxedos, and music stands around on my bikes so I hadn't really delved into weight concerns in a while, but it seemed like a good idea and thus, I rode lockless, keyless, and full of lift.
This is the paceline for the first 20 miles. Yes, reflectors are not only prudent, but required. That's the same Susan two riders up with a very excellent reflector set up. Directly in front is Eric Ahlvin and to his right, Vincent Sikorski? That's an Endless Mountains 1200k jersey so that might help in identifying. Like I said, this is my first 600k so I may not have all the names completely straight. The early paceline is chatty and fun and I have nice conversations with Geoff Swarts, Gary Prince, David Strong, and others while we roll through the flat farm roads surrounding Lebanon, Albany, Tangent, and Corvallis. The Willamette Valley is one giant glacial field, filled in by sediment from the Willamette River. It's pretty flat, extremely fecund agriculturally, and features rocky outcroppings of glacial till that we ride around rather than over. It's a very nice section and the sun comes up as we roll into Corvallis.
This is my attempt at getting a photo of the many lights behind me. Everyone has a well developed idea of what bicycle lighting should be and it's fun to see the outcomes. This photo features my helmet, but you get the idea.
Here's what I assume to be the last of Ian Shopland as I get dropped off the back of the fast group paceline before Veneta. It had to happen at some point. The control at Corvallis was extremely nervous and full of tension as everyone tried to be in the "fast" group and not get dropped. I had to sprint for a couple of miles as I did most of my shopping at the control that also was a Safeway. Once I found some of the people I was looking for, Gary, Ward Beebe, Ian, Susan, Steve Williamson (he has a wonderful blog), and others, we formed a more tight knit group and enjoyed the rolling hills southward. Where are these headwaters, anyway?
Meanwhile, my son, Thorvald, is exploring his agricultural proclivities in Junction City, very close to where I am presently riding. I just had to include this one. Cameras with time stamps are so fun because my wife and I will concomitantly take photos of our exploits and then they end up in Iphoto sorted by time rather than device. It's nice to see what's going on while I'm having a great ride.
After Cottage Grove, where I checked in with Gary and Ward who were just leaving and where I got passed by Ann Trason and Cal Andersen, two fast and forthright randonneurs from Berkeley CA, I rode by myself from there, past Dorena, (dam, lake, then town) and up to my very first headwater! This was easier said than done and imagining this road to be a standard pass that goes through a saddle in the mountains and then directly down to the next town, I didn't pick up water at the campground posted as the only water between Cottage Grove and Oakridge. Luckily, it was cool and the roads were wet so I didn't need more than the full bottle I had with me.
Soon, I was passed by a very jovial Greg Olson (pictured above), who regaled me with war stories of climbing this and other NFD's, their very history, possible future, other avocations, family stories. I particularly appreciated his answer to my question of what else he does with his life. He responded, "oh, I just ride my bike. I'm retired. It's nice". Right now, I can't imagine a life without poopy diapers, let alone a job!
And I said "what? how does that work?" This photo also shows my surprised dismay that erupted after Greg dropped me AND I realized that this road wasn't just going down into Oakridge but was going to dangle around in the high country for a while, meandering through beautiful vista, after beautiful vista. "Just stay on the asphalt and you will be ok" wrote the ride organizer and rando extraordinaire, Michael Wolfe. So I followed. Presently, I came upon Greg, who was helping Ann and Cal fix a flat. They waved me on and so I kept moving and was soon caught again by Greg. We rode into Oakridge together, caught Geoff, and enjoyed a little of the wine festival going on in downtown Oakridge. I picked up a brownie from a bakery, and then felt the need for salt and a Flame Thrower Burger and Dairy Queen. Geoff and Greg rode on, I think to the McDonalds, never to be seen again. While in Oakridge, I took some time off, read the paper, ate at a leisurely pace, and enjoyed the town. Oakridge has set itself up as a mountain biking mecca and features hundreds of miles of single track. I think that I might like to broaden my cycling exploits some day and this might just be the ticket, my predilections of riding to the ride notwithstanding.
After Oakridge, I came upon Westfir which featured a covered bridge, which though tangential to the course, necessitated a crossing. I don't think I had seen one since I lived in Indiana so it was a real treat. After Westfir, I kept riding up NFD 19 (the one into Oakridge was 21 and 22 I think), where after 20 miles, I came upon Michael Rasmussen manning a control. Michael has a wonderful, zen like quality that instantly put me at ease. This stop also featured reuniting with Greg, who had missed the control and ridden back. I found out that we were two hours behind Strong and the crazy fast dudes, one hour behind Beebe and Prince and about half an hour behind Swarts. Greg took off to try and catch Swarts and I hung around a little and talked about Veloquent and how fantastic Kent Peterson is.
I rode up NFD 19, which Greg promised was much easier than the previous, (he was right) and then caught him at the top, where he was putting on clothing for the descent. I already had all my clothes on so I just had to ride with what I brung, which was three jerseys, two of which were wool, short nylon bike shorts, wool socks, SPD sandals, fingerless wool gloves and perhaps a wool hat. No, the hat was in my drop bag. Drat. Greg was great riding company as he has many great stories to tell and that guy climes like a mountain goat. I recommend riding with him if you can keep up.

We rode down the hill and then to the Cougar Dam which I wish I could have seen in the daytime, and then onto HWY 126 which seemed like I had just come into civilization for the first time since Cottage Grove.
The control was at the intersection of Hwy 126 and 242. Hwy 242 was one of the selling points of this ride but it was closed due to forest fires and we could smell the smoke even from the bottom of the pass as we pulled in. Fire trucks were passing us on a regular basis and the camp where the club rented for the night was also a staging area for the fire fighters. Greg and I got in at around 11:30 and I was doted on hand and food by my fellow rando club members who were ready with all kinds of food and drink and conversation. I first went for the shower and Greg did the unspeakable and just got a snack in order to ride on to Detroit Lake, the new control ending. Because of the road closure on 242, there would only be 4 passes instead of 5 to cross this ride and we would cruise up to Detroit Oregon, get a signature, and then ride back to NFD 11/Quartzline road. I wasn't complaining as I was pretty happy with my performance so far, but I love riding from east to west over the Cascades because the climate is stark. On the west it's lush and verdant, and on the east the air changes to that of my childhood memories. Someday, I will ride the Blue Mountains 1000/1200 and ride through my early childhood memories but this ride was for my blossoming. It is the land where I lived from 16-21, where I came upon my own, where I became Brad.
Meanwhile, Thorvald and Astrid have been abducted by two people I've never seen before. I'll have to ask Claire about that one!
Here we have a fantastic rand buddy on the left at Vincent Munoeke on the right. Vincent had just ridden the SIR 1000k the weekend before and then did this route as a pre-ride on Tuesday and Wednesday but got to include McKenzie Pass (242, before it closed on Thursday), and was thus helping out at the overnight. That guy has a seriously iron posterior!
I was awoken at 3 and after 3 hours of sleep, I felt surprisingly refreshed. I would have preferred to sleep in more and see more of the mountains in the daytime, especially the lava beds on 126, but I also had to get back to Lebanon, hopefully soon after church for Claire and the kids, so that they could nap as much as possible on the way back to Seattle, thus I was a man on a mission. Geoff had taken an hour break and was eating at midnight and riding through as I was about to go down, and David Strong, pictured above, had gotten in at 9:30 and was headed out a few minutes behind me. Mmm, and extra 2 hours of sleep, I'm so jealous! Just look at how refreshed David is right there! Must pedal faster next time, must pedal faster!
Also prepping as I popped out the door was Eric Ahlvin. As I watched him don his many layers, I thought, "hmm, I should take my rain coat for the early cold hours and perhaps for the downhill off the pass." That, my dear friends, was the best decision I made all ride. It was in the mid thirties until after dawn and the downhill was so cold with the wind chill that I thought seriously about Jack London and his short story "To Build A Fire" where the risk with the cold is that you will just go to sleep and never wake up. Chilly.

After getting some nice things into my stomach, handed to me by a cheerful and willing control volunteer, and discussing with Steve Barnes how he was going to meet me in Lebanon and abandon the ride. Back up, I had set up with Steve to take him back to Seattle at the end of the ride. I had also agreed that I would try to be back and finish the ride by 2 PM so as to coincide with church schedules of loved ones and napping schedules of my kiddies.

Unfortunately, this is my view of the lava beds. It's also more or less the view I had of the Cougar Dam. I love Randonneuring but this ride had been set up by me for minimum time allotted. Touring with camping gear is a competing and sometimes more compelling way to travel for me. There is no clock except for the possible ferry departures (we have lots of ferries around Seattle), and nobody gets dropped. Rando has a different quality in that it is still bicycle touring but for people who have jobs. Thus there is a clock that ticks and prods you on. There is expectation. There is competition, with others, and with yourself.
I was going as fast as I could muster and keeping the stops as short as possible given that this was my first 600k, I hadn't really consulted the route profile except that I was expecting to go over the Cascades somehow. Susan laughed at me early in the ride for not investigating the route more thoroughly. I rather think that the mental preparation and worrying about the extra climbing would have added to the fun and to the expectation, the best word I can come up with that catches the feeling is German: Erwartung. Events are so much sweeter when you can mentally prepare, fear it, feast upon that Erwartung!

But you should know that I had a ball on this ride. At no point was I thinking of bailing out. At no point did I hurt more than I could handle, though Eric's double shot of Alieve really helped my aching knees at 4:30 on the 126 when he caught me. Thank you so much, Eric. You really made those night time climbs more bearable.

Got into Detroit around 8, realized I had done 50 miles in something like 5 hours, wondered to myself what I had been doing that morning, realized that Michael Wolfe was right, 150 miles in this terrain was not conducive to a 2 PM finish time, texted Claire with the news that I would be late and perhaps very late since I had to climb back up from Detroit and then do another NFD pass (like a pass on steroids, I tell ya!), and then got to work. The out and back to Detroit was really nice as I got to see so many fellow riders and the camaraderie was exhilarating. From Strong and Shopland, to Olson, then Ahlvin, Sikorski, didn't see Swarts. Swarts was riding straight through because he had to ride to the coast by nightfall or something like that. Olson had a hotel room in Detroit and Shopland had ridden through that night because, get this, he was slowing down and not feeling good. Of course, only in rando world would that be the normal course of action.
Then on the way back, it was Trason and Anderson, then Beebe and Prince, all of whom had arrived at the overnight before me, then Peg, Winczewski, Susan and others whom I hadn't met. I was heartened to see Steve at the Quartzline Road turn and let him know how the route went. This was also his first 600k and I like his approach to riding. See blog link above.
So these NFD's are also called Backcountry Byways, and have information kiosks along the way to guide you along and give you some sense of the area and history. Dorena (NFD 22) was well thought out and informative, Aufderheide (NFD 19) was pretty, with woodcut map, but I had forgotten to photograph these kiosks. Imagine my joy at seeing a sign for the last kiosk: Quartzline Road. Well, the above is what was left of this one. Look closely for the shotgun blast in the middle of this kiosk. Hell ya, baby, we were headed into redneck country!
I kept riding up the road and heard gunshots in the distance. This, along with two stroke engine sounds would more or less accompany me for the rest of the journey until we got out of the mountains. The character of this road was very different, perhaps owing to it being much closer to cities in the valley. Heck, the people need a place to recreate, and these are some pretty nice places.
This next photo is designed to punch a hole in the Church of Low Trail. This is me taking a picture while cruising through the mountains, while eating a sandwich with 8-10 lbs in an Ortlieb handlebar bag suspended off a second stem (under the steering stem) on a high trail (68 mm) Surly Cross Check. It may not be as perfect or as refined as frames costing 2-10 times as much but I love this little bike and I'll keep riding it until it cracks or I crash it. 2004 red color for me.
I got to the top and decided to enjoy the last of my breakfast, consisting of a ham and cheese sandwich, a reuben, and two 16 ounce cans of pop; one Mountain Dew (when in redneck land....) and one of Dr Pepper. I choose these drinks because of their caffeine content but also because of the extra-culinary associations I have with them. Dew reminds me of southern Indiana where I went to grad school and where I dated a girl from West Virginia. She was a potter and we would go out down the back roads were she would photograph garbage and I would delve into my new passion bluegrass cello. Pepper comes up because I played a series of fairs with Barry Manilow when I first moved to Seattle and he wrote perhaps the best jingle ever for a soda: "Be a Pepper", well that and "I'd like to buy the world a coke". I wasn't sure about that gig when I took it but Mr. Manilow is one of the most consummate musicians I've ever met and I'm glad I met him.
This is the view northward, fairly close to the aforementioned shooting sounds. Sure, it's scarred by logging, but how else are you going to build your house? Sure I live in a concrete condo, but wood seems like a pretty good building material even if it now comes mostly as chipboard.
The downhill after this shot was so perfect, so dreamy, so carve-able, so perfectly set up on the warm side of the mountain, with the uphill on the right so that I could cut the lefts as well as the rights for a racing line, and I whooped and hollered all the way down. Only the occasional oncoming motorcycle broke me from my reverie. It was just a dreamy, fast descent and I have a word about the perfect tires for this section. Schwalbe Kojaks. Mine are the 35 mm size (700c) and those tires stick like glue. The ride much more quietly than Paselas and I can run them down into the 30's for tire pressure unless I'm riding in town where the extensions are abusive to say the least. Get some if your bike will take them, and enjoy.
Now trouble. I caught Ian. This is not good because Ian is fast. He was accompanied by the above pictured Eric. It turns out that Ian's tire washed out on a slow leak around a corner and he crashed. I never know what to do in these instances and sort of hung back but with Eric nursing him into the control, I chatted a little and then expected them when I got in. They came and Ian sat down for a while to figure out what to do and whether to continue. That guy had also done the 1000 on the prior weekend and had ridden through the night so I didn't know what to figure. Eric and I continued on and Ian stayed with Wolfe's parents. He was in good hands.

And it turns out that Ian finished the ride less than an hour after we did. That's serious rando!

Eric and I rode in and starting pounding away, smelling the barn. We made one wrong turn where we didn't believe that Northlake was Lake Drive and ended up on Hwy 20 before turning around and twice passing two guys in a big truck and camo but with a flat tire that they didn't seem to have the tools or wherewithalto fix. But during the rest of the time, Eric regaled me with tales of teenagers, the beauties of Co-Motion aluminum racing bikes (who would have thought? Aluminum, a hiss and a byword of frame materials among the randonneuring set), and a life well lived. He rides a bunch of different kinds of bikes and it spurred me on to thinking of getting into BMX freestyle. What can I say, I've always wanted to try. Nothing too big, just tricks and drops and urban goofing off. We'll see.
We passed hundreds of people enjoying this next Willamette headwater, most of whom looked like they could use a bike ride. Lots of very large trucks made their way past us and we eventually came into the valley. On the cue sheet was hill marked with "Sorry" on it. It was late in the ride but because it seemed so menacing on the sheet, we made short work of the hill once we got there. Here is Erick attacking and destroying said hill, that seriously, didn't need the adjective, but it was fun to pass. I'm a total fan of editorial comments on my route sheets. They really color the experience and provide, like a ride report a more full understanding of what you are going through. Way to go, Michael, keep it up.
We made it, just under 35 hours and I actually felt better in the last few miles than I had for most of the ride. No real discomfort. My knees never got sore again and stayed warmed up for the rest of the ride. My hands felt fine even though I only wore gloves for the cold sections, and my neck felt great too. It was a strange state to be in; feeling all razzle dazzle after my 600. It was cool. I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment and I could have ridden back to Corvallis right there,
but I didn't have to because my whole family came to meet me, with Thorvald asleep in the van, and my one year old daughter was happy to see me, wait, the photographer, Claire, oh, she was happy to see me too. They are such a joy.

Now, how to get the whole family on a brevet......... Oh yeah, that's why there's bike touring with camping. How soon I forget.

Nice ride, Here are the links:
The Ride
The Pre-Ride
The Club

Only $10 to join, $80 for the ride, and look at all the fun you'll have!

Smooth as Silk: 400k with dairymen and lumberjacks

2010-08-31T13:34:00.000-07:00

http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=4004710

But first I had to get on the train.

This year, I really, really, really wanted to become a "super randonneur" or somebody who has done a sanctioned 200k, 300k, 400k, and 600k ride all in one year. The 200k went swimmingly and was more or less flat from Olympia to Mayfield Lake and back again with some curly cues and a head wind.

On August 20th, I boarded the train to Bellingham to ride the summer 400k which starts from Dan Turner's house. Dan is a randonneur extraordinaire, rides a sweet Colnago with every accoutrement you could want on a bike except fenders. He also let our rag tag group camp out on his lawn both before and after the event.

Now just so you don't get any funny ideas, I was doing the easy ride. My ride started on Saturday morning and ended on Sunday morning, was only 250 miles long and was pretty darn flat, but more on that later. The big group was doing 1000k and started from Dan's house on Thursday so as to return at the same time. Dan was therefore running an SIR mothership command center from Demming, Washington for 4 days. Chapeau!
This is the sign in: Albert Meerscheidt, Robin Pieper, unknown awesome randonneur (Jeff Tilden?), and the aforementioned Dan Turner.
And the rest of the shot rounding it out with Elaine Jameson of wonderful 200k tandem chattiness fame, Lyn Gil, Albert, and Robin. Fun riders included were Ward Beebe, Eric Ahlvin, Bill Gobie, and a fellow new randonneur named Tommy, who tore the heck out of this course.
We rode in a big pack until just before Blaine when I couldn't keep up. Tommy and I rode into the second checkpoint, then he rode away from me. I took a bunch of wrong turns, came to the third checkpoint from the wrong direction, and found myself more like 20 minutes behind, oh well, I knew I would have a head wind until Stanwood (mile 110 or so) so I just hunkered down and started taking photos of cool animals.
Bellingham attempting to pass for Youngstown Ohio

I didn't take too many more photos after that because I caught a tail wind that pushed me from Stanwood to Darrington and then it was gently downhill to Rockport where I came upon a christian rock festival.
Next time with video.

I encountered the ride leaders on the out and back to Marblemount, had a nice dinner in Marblemount, saw Tommy and Bill riding quickly out of town so I lent chase, caught Bill, found out Tommy had stopped for supplies (not in that order), and sped downhill to Sedro Wooley, which was more or less closed.
Then the obligatory photo of Concrete, Washington.
I finished just after midnight with a time of 18:17, not bad considering it was my first sanctioned 400k, I hadn't ridden with anyone since 10 AM except for Bill for a while until he rode away too.
I had the presence of mind to snap this post ride shot. The next morning I rode to Bellingham, caught the train, which was late, met a fantastic member of the Alaska Randonneurs (Nick?), led him to REI mothership, then missed church entirely.
At which point I regaled my lovely wife, Claire with tales of great adventure and daring do.

I'm a huge fan of taking the train to rides, as driving to and from is both a whole statistical universe more dangerous, takes the car from my wife and two kids, and is much less chatty. Oh the people that you'll meet on the train...........

Ride stats, such as I can calculate
Ride mileage: 250 miles
Average Speed: 13.66 mph
Time; 18:17
Time riding: ~16 hours
Fake computer average speed: 15.26 mph

41,379

2010-06-29T23:58:00.000-07:00

Yes, the day was really all that great. I had a wonderful time riding with Arminda, the most eligible bachelorette I, well ok, I know a huge number of fantastic single women, so I'll leave it at Arminda being pretty fantastic; and George, rider extraordinaire.

I was looking to do about 300k on Saturday and had found a route down to Elma and back up through to Bremerton when I realized that I would really rather see all the Cascade 1200k riders up close an personal and be able to cheer them on. George and Arminda were interested in re-riding the Flying Wheels Route and I figured that with 100 miles on the route, I could get a head start on the morning, ride out to see the randonneurs, meet up with A and G, and then ride around for the rest of the day. Claire had given me carte blanche and I was going to use it up.

I got up around 3, loaded the dishwasher, filled the water bottles and headed out. After about 7 miles, while coasting down through Coleman Park, my rear rim started throbbing against the brake pad. I stopped in the darkness and found the rim bending out on the right side. Knowing that I had just a few miles left on a rim that had seen many, many grimy miles and was about to buckle and explode, I decided to pull the brake loose, ride back to the house and switch bikes.

Back at home an hour after I started, there was no time to fret so I pulled out the fixie, located a tube and my trusty craftsman 15 mm wrench (nutted axles on the fixie), repacked, and then set off.

I raced directly out to Issaquah to beat the 554 bus where I was sure to find some friends riding out from Seattle to start the day. No such riders. No problem, as I trundled up the higlands, past Duthie Park, down onto 202, and then up onto the 1200k route where I would be sure to find my buddies to cheer on.

While climbing Ames Lake Road, I happened upon a lovely couple in matching red jerseys and decided to lay chase. They turned out not to be a couple, but the lovely two found in the above photo. Truly, this day was to be a charmed one, for I had found my riding companions, and they were going exactly where I wanted to go at that very moment!

We rode along some more and then at the top of the hill or a little on the down hill, we met up with the motley bunch known as the randonneurs. I have no photo as I was spinning my gear and whooping it up in support of everyone just 20k into a 1240k ride. Talk about fresh.

The three of us then proceeded through the Snoqualmie Valley, up some lovely roads east of Duvall, and then into Snohomish, but not before we were road raged by some fat retirees on Honda Goldwings. What a bunch of wankers. It was like 8:30 on a Saturday morning and they are trying to run down some cyclists on Snoqualmie Valley Farm Road. Where on earth do these people think they have to be?

We got over that soon enough, took the above picture, ate pie, rode back to Issaquah where I split off and rode home

The route is found here: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=3837081

Oh yes, the number? I rode the whole thing fixed, 44/16 on 25 mm tires. 240 kilometers equals 41,379 pedal revolutions or 82,758 "steps". It was a nice ride. Just enough climbing to keep me out of the saddle for the non-coasting bike, and my riding companions were just wonderful with laughs and jokes all along. You should ride with them too!

55

2010-05-13T23:53:00.000-07:00

I passed 55 lbs the other day. That is I am down 55 lbs in my weight. With that momentous number and the round number of 180 lbs upon which I have arrived, I bought some new pants and some new shirts.

It's kind of strange moving from xl-xxl down to M-L. It's weird still dropping from a 40 waist to a 32. I took forever to figure out clothing this time around but it feels great. I climb better, cruise along faster, and more people flirt more often.

So, I left this blog in a lurch as to my methods and thought I might spill the beans since everyone wants to lose weight. The answer is that there is an app for that. Yes, I have a calorie counter on my phone and I am not afraid to use it. There have been hiccups such as when the body doesn't want to lose anymore and becomes extremely efficient, but physics is on my side. The weight does go up and down but the general trend is negative, and that's a positive.

The biggest revelation is that I had really thought of myself as a big guy. Big boned, big needs. Big, big big. Weight loss has tempered that just a little bit and now I feel much more lithe. The whole ethic of consumption and allowing for MY NEEDS has changed for the better. I feel like I can withhold my own wants much more easily. It feels like I'm gaining what our grandparents used to call "self mastery".

So the calorie counter I use is Tap & Track for the iphone. I'm sure that they all work just fine but I can't argue with this one. I haven't lost as much as I had hoped (thinking that 70 lbs would come off by June 1st, silly me but close) but am on the right path. I don't limit the types of foods I eat and in fact had a little ice cream this evening but I sure do watch the portion sizes like a hawk. Like a hawk.

I would like to thank some very important people. First, Kent Peterson with whom I was listening a couple years ago about the health risks of belly fat while helping him out at Bike Works. Second, Claire, who has allowed me to more or less check out of the family feeding schedule and cater to my own caloric needs. She is a complete cheerleader in this quest and is totally supportive and loving, even loving the old me. I sure do hope that we can eat as a family again on a regular basis, but first, we need to spend some time together so that we can eat together. Third, Jan Heine, who writes fabulous words in Bicycle Quarterly and who provided me with perspective (unbeknown to him) as to how to ride faster and enjoy fast transportational cycling. Fourth, Marilyn Springgay, my aunt, who is also on a weight loss quest and is doing very well herself. And lastly, all the people who don't recognize me and pay the most wonderful compliments when they see me. It's nice to know that it's starting to show.

So, 55 lbs down and 15 to go. My scale was off so I had actually started at 235, and when I hit 165 in my scale, I will feel as though I have totally arrived. I'm planning on a full brevet season in July and August though and don't see myself making to that weight in time; I'm not continuing on the diet while riding a 200, 300, 400, and 600 kilometer set of rides but I do hope to maintain through that and then find the equilibrium after that. I have time, even my whole life so I can be patient.

But the big question is: should I buy that bike?

The Race To The Bottom

2010-02-24T06:42:00.000-08:00

Besides run-ins with cars, I have been up to some very positive developments recently. I've dropped some serious weight in the last few months. Serious weight.

On November 5th, I weighed in at 230 lbs or 104 kilograms, or better, 16 and 1/2 stone.

Today, February 24th, I weigh 195 lbs or 88.5 kilos or best, just under 14 stone.That lovely lady beside me is not Claire, mind you but Robin Lee, cyclist extraordinaire. Don't we have cool helmets? Come on Nutcase, we want sponsorship! But here, I'm around 203 lbs so it's not entirely representative.No, this is better this shot was taken up on Orcas Island last week to give you better perspective. Incidentally, this photo features my Valentine's Day present which is a "keeper" ring to hold my now very loose wedding ring on my finger. So yes, this weight loss is showing up all over and in many facets of my life.

There are all kinds of reasons for this weight loss. I was tired of breaking bike parts: two cranks, three pedals, one handle bar, numerous chains, rear wheel damage,.... the whole kit and kaboodle. I was also tired of being a slow climber and weighing 40% more than the average bike racer my height wasn't helping me get to the top of anything.

I was also phenomenally impressed with my wife, who after two kids is magically down below her pre-wedding weight and, though I won't tell you where she's at, looks FANTASTIC! What can I say, I don't want to look like the odd couple.

Even more than that, I got some pretty serious scares and scars last year, I was in the emergency room 5 separate times last year. Once for a fall that gave me a wicked scar on my abdomen, and four times to treat the case of MRSA that erupted from said visit, or as the doctors say, possibly from anywhere. I understand plausible deniability.

No, the truth is that with some pretty damning photos that I saw of myself, in conjunction startling health data I received auxiliary to my ER visits, I decided to get in the saddle and move everything southward. There was no reason why a guy who bikes ~120 miles a week pulling kids and cellos should weigh that much or more importantly, test that high. My glycemic was 106 and my cholesterol was 204 (but down from 225 four years ago). It was time for an intervention.

So here I am. I've lost 35 lbs in in just under 4 months. It feels pretty darn good. I've dropped from a very tight set of 38 inch Levi's to a new, comfortable set of 34's so I reckon I'm down about 5 inches in the waist department. I had to get rid of pair of pants in the process and now only the suit I bought in 1996 fits me. Everything else just hangs and I'm afraid to try on any of my tuxedos.

I'll keep you all posted on method and my future goals, but it has a great deal to do with this photo:
Fausto Coppi and I are the same height.

I Got Harassed And Scraped This Evening

2010-01-30T23:12:00.000-08:00

I was riding west up 40th St. North this evening at 7:17 PM, away from the University Bridge on the way to a play performance that I'm doing (and which is gratefully sold out for the entire run). The hill is a little steep and very narrow but because it only has one light (Meridian) and one stop sign (2nd NE) drivers use it as a bypass from Wallingford. They are extremely protective of their precious rights of way and often threaten those who deign to usurp, so much so that I had not been on this road 100 ft when I was approached from behind by a 90's Cadillac Fleetwood (square single head lights). This car was none too happy to see me and proceeded to rev its engine and squeal its tires (wet road) and honk like crazy. There was nowhere for me to go so I just tried to speed up a little and make the hill seem shorter.

Well, this Cadillac with the Washington license plates 300-NNO decided to pass me, but not before there was a car coming in the opposite direction. Seeing this oncoming car, the Cadillac decided to do the only thing it knew how, not use its brake pedal, not hesitate, no this Cadillac Fleetwood decided to floor it and then swerve into my side. Oh yes it did. Luckily, it just tagged me, but it startled me so that I nearly wrecked. Yes, I am very lucky and I do realize it.

The police were nonplussed by this non-gory hit and run, took long enough to show up for the report that we were well into the first act, and tried to talk the doorman into telling me to just drop it.

Ah police, when will you ever learn? Why do you grade one assault over another? Why do you disregard the needs of pedestrians and cyclists and just let the driver off, citing more pressing and "fun" things to do?

Any of you reading this know how to track down a license plate?

The Dude Rides

2010-01-09T23:07:00.000-08:00

It turns out that I just needed to be more patient. After all, It only took him a week and half to figure it out. I had a few stills around but Claire finally caught some representative footage. Enjoy.

Close Encounters Of The Cycling Kind

2010-01-08T08:31:00.000-08:00

This is the Talequah ferry dock in the fog in the early morning. It erupts out of the nothingness and engulfs us to the point where we can...... disembark.
If you are on Vashon Island for a bike ride, you have not truly sampled the terrain until you have ridden this road. Oh yes, northbound is much trickier than southbound. Do yourself a favor and hit it at the end of the ride when you are just about to the ferry dock.
I got there a little early, and though I saw what looked like Jon Muellner bouncing around in the cold, I preferred to enjoy my hot chocolate from the confines of a closed mexican restaurant behind this glass.
The boys rolled in with the ferry and I made my way out to the dock where Kent Peterson was showing off his new ride. Mmmmm, Chrome. Mmmmm, Cunningham brakes.
Mark Vande Kamp sporting his recently reviewed and adulated rando bike. Don't believe what you read in Bicycle Quarterly, Mark is super fast.
Jon, explaining the finer points of Italian cooking to Mark Canizaro, that very same Mark Canizaro who showed me the way to Vancouver this summer.
Tom and Liam. Liam lives just few blocks from me and is a fellow devotee of Kent's Quixotic Writings. Tom recently moved from Kansas. As he says this, we just hope that he means the hilly eastern part. Tom subsequently recognized me while I was pushing my kids down the street a few days ago. I usually don't recognize people without their bikes under them. Good on Tom!
So you get out to 204th and Vashon Hwy and walk behind a mobile catering trailer and there you have it, the ostensible reason why we are out here.
Mark, reassuring me that this really is the place.
The close up shot of the bike. Non-pneumatic tires and full fenders make this bike an excellent entry in the child rando category.
Now time for snacks. I will remember to ride with Jon whenever I can.
We all sit around in the frost, in the shade, shooting the shit.
Mark, explaining where Sea-Tac is. Yes, frosty wood planks are a little slippery, but we had no mishaps here, only while going uphill, thankfully.
Getting my vitamin D allotment.
They really are more religious in the rural parts of this country.
I had to get one really nice shot in during the ride. This is Mark and Jon after a great little uphill corkscrew from a beach road full of ice.
And the second shot.
These are the standard road surfaces on Vashon. 32mm tires are a minimum on this type of chipseal. Thankfully, I have been appraised of the situation from my riding in Seattle to know what is needed.
Blocking a nice view of Rainier. Jon's Heron in the background.
The Talequah ferry dock from the dock side.
My bike, much smarter, finding refuge inside.
And at last a gravel pit with a nice view, converted into a golf course/public space somewhere between University Place and Steilacoom.

Big Man, Little Bike

2009-12-28T22:48:00.000-08:00

T. isn't so taken by the idea of pedaling right now since he only got the bike on x-mas, but I thought I would give it a try.

A. shows some interest in the matter and I'm lucky that I didn't hit her.

Is there a zoobomb in Seattle?

The Sublime And The Ridiculous

2009-12-27T21:52:00.000-08:00

Hard to tell which is which, but I'll let the photo below speak better.
They've really fixed the old bird up since I last biked through Chehalis. Last time, someone had poked a big hole and tried to empty out all of the pinata treats stored inside. This time, the dear Yardbird sports a fresh coat of paint and a charming sidekick in my red Surly.
To keep this thread going, you are currently witnessing the best view of Mt. Rainier from Dupont WA (exit 121, I-5). Sprawl defines us.
Next, Tenino WA when you pop out at the end of the Yelm-Tenino Trail and ride up to the main drag to find your way to points south, you are met by a very charming commercial building wherein the new tenants have no desire to show you their wares. Wouldn't it be better if everyone just left their curtains down and went about their business?
A statue commemorating WW1 soldiers that has since told the real story of the only labor riot in WA in which anyone lost a life. Some middle schooler sleuthed it out for us all.
The new movement in tree decoration, celebrate not the branches and growth but the stump. Strict constructionist arborists?

My Son Doesn't Read This Blog

2009-11-12T07:14:00.000-08:00

And how could he? He doesn't turn three until April, but boy can he ride that bike on the right. He flies over and into stuff, can balance for whole city blocks (much to his mother's consternation) and looks just plain cute as heck. The new one, that super shiny bike on the left, well, that is T's new bike. I haven't given it to him yet.
So when he started telling me that he wants a bike "with pedals, like daddy" and "red, like daddy's" well who am I to deny him? By golly, as a bicycle addicted wonk and doting father, I went out and bought him the nicest bike I could find, indeed, I bought the only children's bike to be reviewed by Jan Heine in Bicycle Quarterly.

The Specialized Hot Rock 12. Oh baby, 12 inch by 2.125 tires, fully adjustable stem and handlebars, aluminum frame, coaster brake for gnarly skids; it's the bike I would have wanted, period. I don't know how I'm going to wait until Christmas to spring it on him because my heart pumps just looking at it, just thinking about all the crazy fun this little dude is going to have. Or should I just give it to him today?

Living vicariously through my children in Seattle, Washington; Brad Hawkins signing out.

Yesterday's Commute

2009-11-11T10:07:00.001-08:00

Sure, it's sunny today, but I have officially given up on wearing street clothes while riding for the month of November. I've gotten soaked more times than I care to mention since the front came in on Thursday and I am now converting to wool knickers, wool jersey, rain jacket, two sets of wool gloves, and a long brim hat. I now carry my clothing in my panniers which has really increased my commute time and necessarily my average speed because of the time spent changing into and out of the Seattle biker uniform, but I have had it with being wet and cold all day.

Never the less, I still got caught in it yesterday and even though I had a change of clothing, I never really warmed up.

I had a big schedule yesterday, teaching during the day, one lesson up on Capitol Hill at 6, and then a rehearsal in Lake City after that. Here is the route. Sure, 37 miles in urban Seattle, is a little hard, but then I was also pulling the cello, my now necessary change of clothing, sheet music, books, and perhaps 2 gallons of rainwater in the back of the trailer.

And to make matters worse, at mile 25, a spring in the rear cantilever broke, causing the rear to act as a drag brake from the end of the Burke Gilman, up to Lake City, then back to downtown. I have a replacement so that's all good but for a while last night going home (the only dry part of my riding (after midnight)), I thought I was really getting weak. I just thought it was roadway crud until I got home and inspected.

Stay safe out there and keep your bikes in good shape.

How Impossible a Journey Can Be

2009-11-02T21:42:00.000-08:00

People seem to think that riding a bike to go places is a real imposition. I know because people think I'm crazy and I only commute 10 miles each way up to North Seattle from Downtown 4 days a week, and then out to Beaux Arts in Bellevue which is something like 13 miles each way, one day a week. Sure, I'll drive every once in a while when I need the extra half hour because of Claire's scheduling or for instance tomorrow morning, when I have to be at a rehearsal from 8:30 to 10:30, coach an ensemble at 11, and somehow get my kids across town to the friends house in Magnolia before these activities and then pick them up somehow afterwards. In these cases, a car is pretty slick.

As a side note, I never commute in those fancy duds picture above. I just included it to scare you. No, jeans, wrapped up at the ankle and my often red sweater rounds out my cycling ensemble. The fear of sweat is overrated. Besides, would you make a run to the grocery store by bike if you had to dress up for it? Neither would I.

Now, my buddy Kent has an uber long commute, something on the order of 19 miles each way. He digs it, and really the main treat of a long commute in my book is that you can wear out equipment fast enough that you can keep things interesting. Judging from the amount of perfectly good, lightly used bikes on CL, I would imagine that actual mileages vary considerably, and mostly downward.

In any event, the real point of this post is that I came upon the most hilarious route listing I've ever seen. You see, we bikers are always giving out, finding out, and seeking sage advice on the best routes to and from places. Typical routes are structured this way:

So you take 12th ave through little Saigon and follow over the bridge then up to the left past Pac Med and onto 14th, veer left onto Beacon...... (best directions to Bike Works, for instance) or similar street jargon that we gleen to keep our synapses expanding.

Then there is John Bonner. This guy Really digs British documentaries; he digs them so much that he has made is own commute route into a doccumentary. My favorite part? The bike mount. Enjoy.

Leavenworth to The Space Needle through the Chumstick

2009-09-23T09:06:00.001-07:00

"You're gonna take off on a bicycle ride all day and let us drive back, Dad? What a great idea!" says T. Indeed, the Hawkins family went to Leavenworth last weekend in support of Claire's company retreat and A's need to nurse every couple of hours. I took the trip home as an opportunity to cleanse my soul after the veritable smorgasbord present on RSVP last month where I ate too much and was blown away (negatively) by the level of support, but where I never the less indulged beyond my wildest desires.

The route is something like 120 miles since we stayed at Lake Wenatchee State Park, about 18 miles nortwest of Wenatchee but definitely on the way back. Inspired by my buddy Kent's recent ride on FS 65 and 6700, I charted a retrograde course up through and then onto Hwy 2. On the way, I encountered 4 cars, only one of which passed me, the others were going the other direction and even then only close to Hwy 2 so it was a nice 2.5 hours on gravel forest roads with switchbacks before I got onto asphalt and into the big chainring.
Over here, I'm later to find out that I'm only half way up the hill, but the view was marvelous. Here I'm sporting my new shifters that my wife bought me after she trashed hers but didn't want to spend $400 on replacements. She gets a nice pair of 105's and I get to trim my front derailer again so it's a great fit. Incidentally, the bar tape is actually glow in the dark. I'm like that. Just say "no" to black bar tape.
I left at around 6 and after summitting a much higher pass than Hwy 2, then dropped down to the 2 and climbed back up. It was 9 when I got to the top and then I had a very cold drop out of the clouds, down the Old Cascade Hwy segments.....

I need to make a parenthetical remark here about wool jerseys. Not all wool jerseys are created equal and Kucharik jerseys are much LESS equal than others. Mine has long since lost any warming qualities and somehow I seem to pick it out because it fits and it's bright yellow. But seriously, if you get a wool jersey, either get Woolistic or just find something at Goodwill because it will work much better. Kuchariks are also some sort of blend because they are relatively stretchy and they itch but not in that nice "wooly" way, in some sort of polyester fashion.....

which were a delight and then I got into Skykomish and found a group of cyclists from Snohomish doing the pass that day with full private support. We traded great stories, revelled in the delight of bike riding, and I took some of their water, and was off down the hill after about an hour of hot chocolate and kibbitzing.

I landed in Sultan at the bakery and had a reuben and a maple bar, read most of a book while waiting....
and was out the door by 1:45. I took the roads less travelled until I found this wonderful bit of lawn art: not the lady with the red car but the round bale with bodies sticking out. The bodies are straw, but it does make one wonder about the relative dangers of farming and the macabre sense of humor that results. "you could die any day".
After I got serious about cello, my grandfather wouldn't let me work as closely around augers and other moving parts. He didn't want me to lose a finger... or an arm... or worse. Like any dumb 17 year old, I just told him "gramps, if I lose a finger, I'll just find a new way to play cello".

Kids are so dumb.

Stats: 125 or so miles in 11 hours making my average speed 11 mph with stops and pictures and lunch and tall tales.

Repondez S'il Vous Plait from Seattle to Vancouver?

2009-08-18T22:17:00.000-07:00

Sure, there was some riding done last weekend, but really, this is about the food consumed and the stops enjoyed while wending my way to Canada on the 2009 version of Cascade's RSVP. Kristina from two posts below came in with an injury serious enough that she wouldn't even be my stoker. I was planning on just riding as a pirate on this one but when she still hadn't sold her ticket, I bought it off her and thus began my journey with George.

It all started off early in the morning of Friday, August 14th. George told me that he wanted to get there early so I showed up at his house for the ride to the ride promptly at 6 AM. For breakfast, I had two fried eggs, three pieces of bacon, and two pieces of toast, lovingly sandwiched together. The eggs were cooked a little hot, but I hadn't finished packing until 1 AM so I was a little out of sorts. I should back up a little bit. The pre-ride meal was actually a sumptuous meal provided by my good friend Michael Hatch who gathered us all together at the Seattle Tennis Club to help support Susan Hutchinson for King County Executive. She's nice enough but her rhetoric reminds me of vintage Phyllis Schlafley so I just smiled and got myself another helping of the best baked brie and roasted pork I've ever had. Thus nourished and prepared, I went home, put the kids to bed, and then prepped my bike for the next morning's ride.George offered me some breakfast but as I had just eaten two consecutive fatty meals, I wasn't in the best place to take on more. He cooked up some nice eggs for himself and offered me a chocolate brownie but I declined. I don't know when the fake foods shown in the foreground were consumed by George during the ride but I trust that they were. At some point after that, a little before 7, we were off and running and I convinced George to take the hilly way directly east from his house to the ride start. We were met at the ride start by the cycling equivalent of the supply depot in Apocalypse Now. Music was blaring, trinkets were exchanged for other types of favors, photos were taken, and then we were off on the ride. Found here, George is really more fun in real life than depicted in this photo. After just a little bit of riding, we ended up in Snohomish where George knew of a great pie place. Apparently, George has plans for all of the free time his lovely wife, Kathleen has during the day with only three little kids at home so he would like her to open up a pie shop. I'm sure that she doesn't have enough things to do already. If she does as well as the one we found in Snohomish, well by golly, George may be able to retire, or at least go work in the kitchen. While there, I ordered a piece of Strawberry Rhubarb a la mode and found it excellent and well balanced, but somehow lacking the love that I feel while eating pie that Claire and I make on occaission. You see Claire and I mix it up as I make the filling and Claire does the crust. Is that fair? She really makes a mean crust and mine are like concrete. After pie, we rode up to Arlington and along the way ran into Mark Canizaro who, with HAM radio mounted on his bike, was marshalling or something. Upon reaching Arlington lunch was made imminent and required and so we haggled for a while over what we would eat. Mark wanted mashed potatoes and I was dying for Thai. We settled on a diner where I found chili. It was burned. I brought along a sandwich that I had made that morning and then shared some cookies that I brought, and here is where things get tricky for the people reading this who were on the ride. I merely chose them and cooked them, Claire mixed them up. Lots of butter, Chocolate chips, pecans, and dried cranberries. Lunch took forever, like an hour and a half and the aforementioned chili was burned so I was glad to get out of Arlington post haste. The next section was a whole bunch of flat punctuated by a very nice hill up and around a lake. The boys were pretty well set up as their sandwiches looked great and the potato salad was both tasty and mountainous. I just hope that George got around to his. We stopped for water and a single outhouse in the rain, then onto the next feed zone. This one was at a school in Mt Vernon or Burlington or thereabouts and we found cookies, water, magic drinks (don't touch the stuff), and then tada! Canteloupe and watermelon. That will do. George tweeted away and we found our way to the Cascade sponsored trough. Upon arrival, George let us know that last year, he took a nap at this stop so I steeled myself up for a lengthy rest period. It wasn't too long and I found out how to work headphones on my iphone. When you take a more relaxed approach to a group ride like this, and you are helping people who are pulled over with technicals, you find that your coriders get slower and slower as well. You start to notice that the people around you don't look quite as fast as they did in the morning and then you notice that they are different people. Don't get me wrong I really dug the canteloupe, but but suffice it to say, we were not going to break any records, and the water supply was typically nearly gone by the time we got there. I ate oreos, water, some canteloupe, and just dawdled around. So be it. It was relaxing. One statistical outlier in this hypothesis was a girl we kept leapfrogging in a full HAMMER team kit. Before Snohomish, I asked her if she was going to do the whole ride on Hammer products and she said "more or less, yes". I think that she was in the same laughing grupetto that we were though so I hope that the Hammer worked. The only problem is that I also saw her eating where we were eating and I was eating too much, so I can't imagine eating while on the bike as well as she claimed to be doing. Mark is another breed of cat. The watermelon really was that great. After naps, the boys were refreshed and we were off through the Skagit valley, looking for Chuckanut Road. Just a few miles down the road, we encountered another private supply tent manned by a Bellingham race team. They were young and fun and didn't seem to have their act together so I put $10 in the donation jar and they gave me a can of coke. They were just adorable and I'm sorry I didn't take a photo. Needless to say, we made it up into Bellingham and to the endpoint for the first day, but not before stopping for the famously gorgeous lemonade girl, whose mother was doing all the work and whose little sister handed me a cup of lemonade completely unsolicited. In Bellingham, they had massage tables, repair car, more bananas and treats, and a Schwanns truck, where Mark got us all ice cream sandwiches. It was nice. After a brief pause, we three amigos sauntered on. Mark had a room waiting for him on the strip and George very nicely allowed me to bunk with him in Lynden..... in this: Oh yes, we slept in a windmill. The girl at the front desk was sufficiently guarded and reserved to make as feel as though we were truly in the Netherlands, and we searched around for some Dutch food. We ended up with Greek, but it was slathered in Mozzarella cheese and contained inside a half chicken on top of marinara noodles. Let's just say that it must be hard to really nail greek food in a dutch town in farm country in Whatcom county I slept well and had wonderful dreams of speaking at an Obama rally wherein I revved up the audience and they all went begging for a real public option in healthcare, rather than the silliness we have planned now. The next morning, We got up and went into the dutch breakfast spot so heartily recommended by everyone. There, we found a regular American style breakfast replete with scrambled eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and gravy; tasty but not very Dutch. Where were my Pomme Frites with mango Mayonaise? I digress. Soon, were on the road and I decided to make some brisk time into Vancouver. I just wanted to see if I still had the mojo after 26 hours of, should I say more relaxed touring. We happened upon a nice group of Canadian legal advisor who races Cat 4, a South African couple from Seattle who were in great shape but never really pulled, George, Mark, and a bunch of other pack fodder. We found some tandem rabbits to follow to the border, and then pushed ourselves up to Fort Langley where the next feed zone was found. The Canteloupe was still fresh and the Oreos were much better. We were earlier in the placing so the water jugs were nearly full and I was is good spirits. After a short stop off, I rallied the other good pullers and we set off. Mark let us know that he might not be able to keep up the pace and then within 100 meters his pedal fell apart, thus cementing his statement. He got a ride in to the end with another marshall and we were off. Well, actually, he stopped, we didn't wait because he told us not to, and we were glad to see him at the end. From there to Vancouver, we just decided to keep a good pace and keep laughing. Gloria, the legal advisor from Vancouver, was especially great at keeping us all in good spirits. Gloria also knew the way into town and had some great advice on how to negotiate traffic in Canada. We were delighted to find a huge, ratty, old Chevy Blazer with mud tires and bomb can paint job and the words "Fun in B.C." on the front right fender. This car was so polite and trust me, this type of car owner is NEVER nice to cyclists in the States. From here, you can tell that I really use my camera just to find out who is still around in the group. I wonder if Popyvich or Hincapie or other domestiques use this powerful method. In the photo you see tired me, and Flying George.

I'm still looking for the photos where we are eating the finish line meal, but first, 20 miles from the end, we had another feed zone. It was amazing. Here I had bananas and canteloupe. It was nice, I also adjusted my drivetrain which had devolved to the point that it would not go into the bit ring and it would ghost shift every time I got out of the saddle. With everything adjusted, we were off (I was the straggler this time) and covered the last 20 miles in just over an hour.

At the finish line, I enjoyed blaring music (just like the beginning of the ride), lots of spandex, and rather standard burgers with potato chips. The onions and the pickles were the highlight for me. A fun photo of George, Mark, and I around the table eating is coming from my wife's camera.

After the ride, I met up the Claire, T, A and Claire's dad Chip at Stanley Park. We found the Durhams, who had also traveled up with kids, wife, and father in law. We were all tired, T fell asleep, so we just headed back to Seattle but not before buying $212CAN of chocolate, juice, and yogurt. Party at our house!

The stats are as follows:
1st day: total mileage: 131 miles 5:30 AM-8 PM. 9 mph average
2nd day: total mileage 70 miles 8 AM-1 PM. 14 mph average

All averages include stops. Trust me this is the only average speed that matters. George may have the average Riding Speed which will look much more favorable, but I don't have a cycle computer for religious reasons so you will have to catch him here.

Food consumed during ride (not including night before meal (the real point of this blog post)):
1 egg and bacon sandwich
1 turkey and cheese sandwich
10-12 homemade cookies
1 bowl of chili
1/2 portion half chicken over italian noodles under cheese (couldn't even eat half of this monstrosity but oh so wish I had taken a picture)
1 greek side salad
1 plate of american breakfast (superfat, with jam)
2 glasses orange juice
1 can coke
2 glasses cherry coke
2 bananas
4 servings cantaloupe
2 servings watermelon
1 piece of pie a la mode
10-15 oreos
1 apple
1 ice cream sandwich
1 hamburger with everything
<5>6 bottles of water

Needless to say, I did not lose weight on this trip.

Ride well, my friends.

P.S. One gratuitous photo of my son with really cool hair:

We love the Durhams

2009-08-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

As many of you may know, George and Kathleen Durham are made of the best stuff on earth. I know this because they also make the best stuff on earth. When A came into our lives, They arrived on the spot with a wonderful meal that we got to share. They left the dessert in our freezer and it became an instant hit with T. Witness.

It is therefore that I wish Kathleen a very happy birthday on this, the 11th day of August.

Bike Touring In The San Juans With A Two Month Old

2009-06-23T09:00:00.000-07:00

Lest your eyes deceive you, that really is Hawkins road on Orcas Island in Island County, Washington. Accompanying me on this particular foray is Jenn Nuckols who will feature prominently in this little travel summary. A fine time will have been had by all by the time you finish at the bottom, and your eyes will be opened or perhaps locked shut regarding the myriad possibilites of taking a two month old on a bike camping trip. Suffice it to say, A, our two monther has grown immensely, T, our two year old has picked up fabulous skills, and the Foley Hawkins family had a wonderful time with Jenn and Kristina. So here we go.

Claire and I took off early Thursday with the kids to have a five day trip to San Juan Island and Orcas Island. We had numerous interested parties at first but one by one, they cashed in their chips and bowed out before we could even set sail, let alone pack up. Left were two of the most powerful young women I have ever met, Kristina Westbrook and Jenn Nuckols.

Kristina met us in Anacortes and we picked up Jenn at her house in Seattle. The trip up was relaxed but we soon found ourselves 15 miles ahead of Kristina, who still had to stash her car in Anacortes and make an earlier ferry. She was intent on going to Shaw and experiencing the real wild. Jenn opted to go with Kristina and we all piled in, paid our passes, and bid the girls farewell.
The Foley Hawkins then traipsed over to San Juan Island where we saw the coolest fire engine ever (Pictured: T's favorite)

Then we went over to the Whale Museum where T tried his luck at becoming a sockeye salmon. Whales and fish are cool and we were excited to see both in the wild. T didn't really like being an orca whale but the late term, dying and ready to spawn sockeye? No problem.

We made camp and then T and I rode back to meet up with Jenn and Kristina whom I supposed had just gotten off the ferry. In reality, they were on their way up Beaver Valley Road and we met at the top of the hill near a swarm of bees (crazy). We rode back to camp and then had a nice dinner, depicted here. The first meal of the weekend was macaroni and cheese with vegetables and tuna. I could have lived on that for the whole weekend.

After dinner, I was able to snag this wonderful photo of Kristina playing with T. They were discovering flowers together and the moment was very special. I must now mention and it cannot be overstated, what a wonderful help Kristina and Jenn were on this trip. Ever helpful, always interested, excellent cyclists, strong sportswomen, and great friends. In fact, the first person T wanted to go visit as I write this is Kristina. How very nice!

The next morning, we suited up, got on our bikes, loaded T, and then headed off to American Camp. San Juan Island has a history of war between England and America that was settled by Kaiser Wilhelm deciding that Orcas was closer to Lummi Island than San Juan was to Vancouver, thus from his excellent map reading skills and the fact that the Hudson Bay Company's "businesses" on the island were a sham (akin to Microsoft company software hobbies that are designed just to pollute the martetplace), the whole archipelago was consigned eventually to the Washington State Ferry system and a bunch of rich landowners. It was a nice ride down the west side of the island none the less and we happened upon some parks and saw lots of animals and a few tractors along the way.
While English Camp on the northwest side of the island is a serene oasis of beauty and tranquility, American Camp is a windswept wasteland that reminds one of Scotland of Cape Cod. Lots of wind, not many trees, one lighthouse that looks pretty derelict. We had a picnic in the yard of the beautiful laundress who helped the soldiers out with their problems and contributed to the overall peace of the camp. Hmmmmm.....

We rode back to Roche Harbor but this time with Claire mounting her trusty LeMond Steed and riding with us from American Camp. Claire is a really strong rider and pummeled us into submission, despite giving birth to A just two short months ago. Though not depicted in this photo, Claire has offered up a consolation prize which thrills and delights the losers. Thanks Claire!

A massive squall met us in Roche Harbor so we somehow skipped the promissed showers and huddled into the van with trailer in tow. Pictured here, Jenn and Kristina make the best of their new living arrangements. Kristina is the real trooper. Jenn..... eventually came around.

After getting back into our car support, I dutifully minded the children while preparing a tasty and nutritious meal for T and the girls. I wore this Fatcyclist jersey for as long as Claire would let me in honor of Eldon organizing and fundraising $140,000 for the Lance Armstrong foundation ride in Seattle on the 21st. As a funny aside, Kristina is depicted in the same jersey and related that she was once told "hey, you are not a fat cyclist!" by an onlooker. I have enjoyed no such clarifications from people while wearing my jersey but I'm sure that it's just a communist plot.

After dinner, we retired to the beach where we watched the sun go down. A word to the wise: while the rocky, pebbly beach is a great place to see the waves up close, the field above has a much better view of the strait, the seals, the whales, and the sunset. Be advised. Don't go down the long staircase if you are looking for a nice view. Never the less, Claire takes amazing pictures and well, this is our group. I love everyone here immensely.

We made it eventually to Orcas Island I didn't seemt to get any pictures, but T showed his amazing abilities and marshalled his motor pool to great effect. The campsite at Moran was much more secluded, much more quiet, much wetter, and on an incredibly steep hill, which, if you have never biked, comes right after a long climb out of east sound. I had taken T along in the trailer, we happened into a lumberyard picnic, rode Enchanted Parkway, and did some shopping for fruits and the like. We were living like a bunch of freeloaders and T playing in the dirt at the end of the day was a wonderful sight.

Claire found some time to show off A a little here. Claire, in addition to being pretty awesome with the timer two photos ago, is a virtuosa with the "arm hold" method of photography, and in a rare, lucid, eyes open moment, snapped a great photo of A in her natural habitat: with mama. A is 9 weeks old in this photo.

T found his was onto a rock is is the king of the world. He grew so much on this trip and we were glad to put the maternity leave to good use. I think that he is about to respond to the many bird calls heard roundabouts in the trees.

In perhaps my favorite time up on Mount Constitution, the Foley Hawkins enjoyed a little rain and got to sit above the clouds. It was so peaceful and magical that the ride down the hill seemed like murder in comparison. Never the less, everyone was hip, the people who took our photo were also good lefties, and I pictured myself in the middle of an Ursula Le Guin novel. I had grown up under the impression that Le Guin had written up here on the island but wikipedia tells me that she lived and worked in Portland. Surely there must be some spillover. Anyway, my apologies to Jenn for misleading her.

After the cold descent into Olga off the top of Mount Constitution, we had brunch and celebrated both my third fathers day and Claire's birthday. Times are good.

Kristina rode off in the afternoon, ok, we carried her to the ferry dock, and then we went to Friday Harbor to see a Bill Frisell concert. I hadn't seen him in a while but Claire and I had seen him many times while we were dating so I just couldn't give up the chance to stoke some fires. Here, A enjoys a nice ride on the ferry to and from the concert. Jenn looked over the kiddies and we had a very romantic evening. Pay very close attention, A is a very serious girl and this is as full blown a smile as I have ever seen in the wild.

T got the good mommy lovin' as well and the chili that I made for everyone turned out pretty well. As it turned out, we biked something like 100 miles or so. I don't really count that sort of thing anymore but Jenn would give us daily totals and we had a nice time riding around. Orcas is much hillier and I find, more satisfying to ride on. It doesn't have any loops to speak of for riding but the terrain is super great. San Juan has nice stuff along the way and is easier to navigate, has more historical markers and the like, longer views, and more farms, but Orcas has the love of my lovely wife as well and an excellent shuttle service (contractually obliged to mention it) to boot.

We made it back to civilization eventually and had rested ourselves on the way back. I could never live on island time and am happy to to live in a city and on a bus line, but it was nice to visit a slower paced life. Jenn (pictured) was fantastically helpful and you can see that T just loves A.

The statistics for the weekend: 5 days, 4 nights, 100 miles, more descent than climbing because we got a ride to the top of Constitution, 6 people, 4 of age. We drove something like 320 miles to cover the sag responsibilities, and had a great time.

My Letter To President Obama

2009-02-18T08:01:00.001-08:00

I was so inspired by my buddy Kent's letter to Obama that I had to add one of my own.

Dear President Obama,

I'm very impressed with the Job you are doing also in the way you have confounded the chattering classes in Washington. Thanks for that, and congratulations on the stimulus bill. I suppose that you are finding a very "fun" level of intransigence but that you will continue to reach out to those with whom you disagree, just out of principle. I would not be so magnanimous but that's why I'm not President.

As I was reading about the big three auto makers need for more money in this quarter. It's a terribly vexing issue for me as there are so many working people who stand to be financially ruined. On the other hand, I haven't seen a GM or Chrysler product that I would want to buy since I was 12 (we all wanted a Corvette or Camaro back then but most of us grew out of that) and I feel like many people agree with me. If the Heartbeat of America is still beating, it has a pronounced murmur and very clogged arteries, a debilitating palsy, and a taste for bourbon whiskey.

GM's restructuring plan is particularly egregious and shows that they haven't been in the auto business for a long time. Cutting 47,000 additional workers is supposed to help matters? To whom exactly was GM planning to sell their cars. For an inspiring take on the matter, take a look at a very inspirational guy who may succeed you if the economy gets worse.

If the auto industry fails or is bought out by foreign producers, can we lower our slaven approach to subsidizing auto culture? Can we then tax cars as they are taxed in other industrialized countries to mitigate the huge burden they place on us? Can we truly look to other alternatives for transporting people that do not financially enslave them (in the name of freedom, no less), poison them, or endanger them and their very safety? Air and rail are statistical universes safer than private autos. In fact, people have become so innured to the risks that if somebody came up with a Star Trek style transporter that cost as much as cars do, that killed as often as cars do, nobody would use it because it would be too risky. Never the less, people drive cars because all the little personal choices associated with driving underline a personal freedom that is actually quite illusory.

If we are to continue with bailing out the auto industry, could the government at least take a stake in the businesses and start mandating production of mass transit and high speed rail? This change of operating procedure would come with a guaranteed $2-4/gallon fuel tax to completely revamp our transportation sector and change car buying habits, also funding mass transit projects across the country and inspiring people to walk, cycle, skateboard, and the like. Keep those poor people employed and really become the change you pay so much lip service to. That's a win win, as they say. Without a serious fuel tax, behavior will never change, and your presidency will never reach the level of change it purports to embody.

As for the financial sector, I have much less sympathy for those people. You are doing a great job seizing and nationalizing the banks and I am amused that this all started under the former administration. Now would be a great time to nationalize the insurance sector too so that we can easily mandate a single payer healthcare plan. If they need money too, well, by all means we should help them, but they should start helping us too, completely.

Now is the time to change entire sectors of the economy for the good of working people, not just monied interests. Don't let a perfectly good financial crisis go to waste.

Turkey Day Family Ride

2008-11-29T09:23:00.000-08:00

George got this really fun idea of taking all the kids out on a little bike ride on Thanksgiving and who am I not to show up if can't help it? We invited some extra people, some of whom, Steve, Sumer, Kathleen, my sister Patricia, Yaroslav, Rob, Sara, their friends, and our kids: L, C, P, L, J, T, and 3 (trust me, that's a real person but you have to use the cyrillic alphabet to spell that name).

The course took us from the Ballard Fred Meyer out to the ocean, or that is, Golden Gardens city park through a very quiet Ballard and then the new section of the Burke Gilman Trail.

Here are some photos of the kids: L & C: (and Yaroslav, George Arminda, and Kathleen).

Here we see Steve, George, Kathleen, C, L, and Sumer prepping for the return trip wherein the fine tail wind we enjoyed on the way out will somehow seek to destroy us as we turn about face.

P & L, not sure what their parents have gotten themselves into. Yes, they are twins.

And finally, T & 3 who have just been bought off with some granola snacks. J somehow eluded my camera for this ride.

We rode down to the park, brought some goodies, let sleeping children sleep, and then rode back when critical mass felt upon us. Have I mentioned that the people depicted here are the some of the nicest I know?

An Inadvertant Tour Of Southeast Bainbridge Island

2008-11-18T22:33:00.000-08:00

http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=2402209

Add to that 5 miles round trip from my house to the ferry dock, and you have a great way to spend a morning with Kent and Matt.

Photos are found here.

Here's the kicker. If you go out on a foggy day with two cyclers who are crazier than you are, and by the way, you are pretty crazy, and your 18 month old son has just enough toys and the like to make it through a morning, then, oh, did I mention that it's foggy? Then you have the ingredients to a good day.

Claire went to work especially early and Thorvald was up with her so we decided to make the most of it. Kent had set up a ride on Bainbridge Island which is my favorite place to ride because it involves a ferry, is literally inches from Seattle (you get on a boat, and then you get off a boat), and transports you to a rather tranquil version of exurbia where you can cycle to your heart's contentment, enjoy the ups and down of the hills, and are never more than 20 minutes from a coffee shop.

The rub arises however when those two crazy cyclers hold the map and then refuse to look at it, even though it's taped to their handlebars. This sounds much worse than it is, for if we had slavishly adhered to the map, we never would have found out where The Country Club of Seattle is (keep turning left from the ferry and look out for the dogs). We also never would have found the beautiful shangri-La at the end of Toe Jam Hill.

The best moment was finding out that we were going exactly south when it felt like north, realizing that we had a very sketchy downhill replete with wet leaves, and then from the confines of the bike trailer I hear "Daddy?". It was so precious, more so when Kent and Matt realized right there why they were waiting for me on the hills. I'll get Thorvald pedaling soon enough. For now he's just along for the ride and game as long as I stop when he wants. That's a good deal as far as I'm concerned.

Kent's write up on the ride is wonderful and he really does climb like a mountain goat, but when they were tired of waiting, they sent me on Fort Ward Hill and Blakely Hill while they hugged the shore and what I now understand was the shortcut. Hmmmmm...... They really are great friends. Really.

The next time I go over there, I'm leaving time for the visit to the bike shop. Wouldn't you?

Bailing out the Auto Industry

2008-11-18T08:41:00.000-08:00

I was just thinking about the hearings today and had a thought. If the domestic automakers were to be allowed to fail and were perhaps bought up by foreign companies, we would see even less political support for cars and car infrastructure than we do today. Perhaps with no major domestically owned auto companies (plenty of foreign owned companies have production here, typically in non-unionized or hard to unionize sections of the country), we might find larger support for mass transit, rail, cycling, walking, and the infrastructure improvements that would improve those options.

That said, I'm for a bailout, if only because it's much cheaper than the costs associated with letting them fail including, depression in the upper midwest, which just voted strongly for Obama (hello lefties!), destruction of the parts industries that feed into the auto makers including mining electrical, and others, and of course, a cleaning out of one of the most unionized sections of the country. The UAW has been a leader in worker rights in this century and though none of us have the benefits of an autoworker, we all benefit from their contracts when it comes to weekends, vacation pay, etc.

It's also telling that the senator working hardest against the bailout is Richard Shelby of Alabama who has factories in his state owned by Toyota, Honda, Mercedes, and Hyundai; none of which are unionized, but must pay at least competitively thanks to union contracts negotiated by the UAW. Take away that support and what will happen? It's not like Senator Shelby is pro union. He is pro Alabama, whatever that means.

Fake out ride 2008

2008-10-10T19:36:00.001-07:00

It was a super nice day out today and so at around 4:20, I wrote everyone to see if they wanted to go out for an early autumn ride. I got some takers, so we decided to meet at 5 PM at the sculpture park. After I left, Steve wrote to say he would be late, and Ryan wrote to say he would be later. I didn't get the second post. I did catch that George was inviting people over for another girls night out. I wrote to say that I would meet him for the date. You can see where this is going.

Steve came up and being as it was 12 after, we waited for just a minute and took off. Steve was offering hot apple cider if we rode to his house and I was more than happy to take him up on it. We got along on our path and arrived at Steve's (5:50), and I found a message on my phone. We had left Ryan. Ryan I am so sorry about this and you were so nice about us ditching you. Faked out!

Steve welshed on the apple cider and instead served us hot chocolate. Faked out II!
Editor's note: Thorvald enjoyed playing with the Evans kids and the hot chocolate was just great.

George was nowhere to be found when I arrived at his house at 7. He had taken off already and was miles away at some restaurant. Fake out III!

I rode home on 15th, over the bridge, taking the whole lane, Thorvald chirping along, and we were home by 7:30.

Editor's note: George and the girls came over and we played and played.

Hey, hey, it's a Saturday night!

2008-10-02T07:39:00.000-07:00

It's guy's night out in Seattle as the coolest dads in the world get together for burgers, biking and showing the kids a good time. First up, we have George, Lucy, and Charlotte on bike number one, tearing it up and looking very Dutch. If anyone could take a tobogan, strap it to a bicycle, and create a revolution, it would be somebody from northern Europe. These bikes are fun to ride and seem to ride best with some weight in the front. Thanks to Lucy and Charlotte for providing the much needed ballast and for being very fun and helpful to the smaller boys.

And here are the aforementioned smaller boys. I was missing a trailer for this ride because I was set up for cello hauling instead of baby hauling so I took advantage of the excess capacity found in
Rob's trailer and shoehorned
Thorvald in with Jasper.

And we're off, cruising down Market. Yeah, my posse's on Market.... Baby!(s)

This in no way condones or approves of our failed attempts to get Thorvald to wear a helmet. Jasper has accepted them and Rob and Sarah should be congratulated for their due diligence. Still, it's fun to see the boys playing. They rode most of the ride each with a hand on that little train car. Detente.

And here, George wins the reflective war, sporting lights with reflectors, and reflective tires. I didn't get to mention earlier because of poor picture taking but also pictured are Steve and Asher who showed us their awesome downhill and climbing skills at the locks. Pictured from left to right: Rob, Thorvald, Jasper (both in trailer), Lucy, Charlotte, George, Steve, and Asher.

Today's Route

2008-09-30T23:54:00.000-07:00

This route was what got me to the auto shop twice, then to two different schools and back home, all on a bike today. It was a little long for an aluminum fixie, but what the heck, it was fun.

The car got me to and from the auto shop. The bike, everywhere else.

Breakdowns

2008-09-30T22:10:00.001-07:00

So last week, the van, our only car, lost it's clutch, or more succinctly, the pilot bearing that helps the clutch engage shattered. A local shop fixed it but then the van came back with the inability to shift into 1st gear and a very troubling habit of not turning over immediately when the key is turned to "start".

I had somewhat of a handle on this kind of thing and sent it back, knowing that both problems were related to the mechanic having taken the transmission out and putting it back in. It was expensive but these little trifles were fixed free of charge.

Well, well, well.... Bikes aren't that reliable either. For instance, on the cargo bike ride mentioned below, our tandem pulled a flat tire, and then when we pulled the wheel off, the hub fell apart. It's one of those ingenious Phil Wood style hubs but cheaper, much cheaper, and I'm not impressed.

On our progressive dinner ride, the lights stopped working on my beach cruiser which I had lent to a friend for the ride. There are a million places where the problem could be: light bulb, grounding issue, switch, wiring that was put together by me and run through the gas tank horn, etc. What was it? The magnet in the hub was glued in (Sturmey Archer dynamo hub with a drum brake) and when the brakes were activated, the heat caused the glue to fail, causing the magnet to spin with the coil, thus not creating electricity. How about that? Aaron's bike repair, the only place to go for help with hub generators and internal gears, fixed it with aplomb.

Last night's maintenance festival included the following:
~pull off cruiser tire zip tied to the tandem (snips poked and flatted tandem tire),
~install cruiser wheel on cruiser (fork, suspension brace, and 4 fender struts all fit onto the axle before it can be tightened with a wrench, but not before attaching the brake arm and finally attaching the electrical cord),
~wipe off excess chrome polish on cruiser,
~clean cruiser chain and adjust seat from progressive bike dinner,
~Figure out why front light not working on LHT,
~Determine that it might be a bulb (ockam's razor),
~discover that it's in a failed electrical connector (free wire was the clue),
~fix LHT lighting system just well enough to last until a generator hub wheel can be found and built (2 weeks to 4 months) and Claire's extra B&M light can be installed, in other words, not tremendously well,
~fix tandem tire (mini v-brakes plus shimano brake levers equals cussing),
~clean three more bike chains (tandem, Check, LHT),
~install shim on rear Burley trailer light so that it doesn't flop around (innertube to the rescue),
patch tandem tube,
~make sure that each saddle has a rain proof cover now that fall is here,

I didn't even pump up any tires. Today's ride featured a disarmingly cushy ride on some 25 mm rubber.

But the list goes on: In the past month, I've had 9 flats, a failed tire, a hub fall into pieces, a hub work loose, lights go out on two bikes (the aforementioned magnet, and a connector break apart), 1 lost orange flag, numerous shift adjustments, an inline cyclocross brake interrupter came apart at the hinge, electrical tape holding the bar tape magically moistened and fell off, one broken fender (overuse, two for the year), mudflap came loose, numerous zipties, became brittle and failed, replaced one set of brake pads, one sticky drum brake (tandem), lighting connectors have come loose, reflectors have fallen off, broken brake cable, and now two menacingly squeaky pedals.

Are bikes really more reliable?

Why can't Toyota or Porsche build a bicycle?

Progressive Dinner Ride September 21st

2008-09-28T18:49:00.000-07:00

We like to eat. We like to ride our bikes. This is a ride where we get to celebrate both activities. Granted, we spent much more time eating than riding our bikes, but that's not the same as a bad thing.

Here we are at Kerry Park in Seattle. Theoretically, doctor Frasier Krane lives somewhere behind this photo because of his very nice view that gets featured out his window. Just like Austin City Limits, there is no way that you can get the proper parallax to have all of the buildings featured in Frasier. It's a product of photoshop. This one is a product of a very nice girl who we recruited to take the picture of us.

Here we have Claire and I riding along with Thorvald in the trailer. Many people are in tow as we make our clockwise navigation around the top of Queen Anne Hill. Leisurely would be an understatement for the pace of this ride. I would put it as "glacial". We like to stop every few blocks and even then we seem to get separated. It was fun getting all the pictures. Love it.

The next section features very nice members of our group.

Nathaniel getting ready.

Thorvald is trying to get away before the ride begins. We are back behind Kristina's house here and Thorvald is finding the limits of running down a closed alleyway.

Our route started at the top of Queen Anne, which some of us rode to. We then rode out to Wallingford for the main course, finishing with dessert at our house after dark. No injuries were reported and the only mechanical was that my Sturme Archer Hub Generator fell apart when the magnet came off and the lights stopped working. Are bikes really cheaper than cars? Discuss.

Robin and Kristina: Don't call them Domestiques

2008-09-28T06:49:00.000-07:00

I had to get out to Bellevue for my weekly teach-in over there and advertised it since some people were talking about doing the farm tour on Saturday. Soon, Robin, the lead instigator of the farm tour, hopped onto my plan and decided to use me as a pacer out to Bellevue, perhaps to points unknown.

Kristina signed on the very minute we were about to leave and held us up for a while. I was very concerned that I wouldn't make it for the class, but what do you know, those gals are super, super fast.

I just got behind and churned away, pulling the cello and teaching get-up and trying desperately to keep up. Across I-90, we passed people, over Mercer, we passed some more. I couldn't really keep up on the hills, but they kept talking whenever I would fall back and pretty soon, or whenever they pulled off, I would catch up.

I got there in record time. I just got paced in, Lance style, with the best team in the Puget. It was awesome! Ladies, you saved my bacon. Thanks so much!

Weights and Measures II

2008-09-26T09:52:00.000-07:00

Fascinated by the crazy weight I pull around on a regular basis, I'm going to start weighing all of my bikes.

The last post featured my do it all Surly Cross Check which sports a road front, mountain rear drivetrain, hosed 105 shifters, Brooks Saddle, full fenders with mondo mudflaps, generator hub, 62 CM frame, lights front and rear that plug in to the hub, a Jandd frame mount tool bag that weighs a ton, a Carradice SQR, an Ortlieb handlebar bag mount, 35 mm tires (paselas), and a pump.

I might have missed something but it weighs 32 lbs. 42 with a lock, water, and a Carridice bag filled with shoes, rain slicker, and a camera.

So on the second day, I was riding my light aluminum fixie and stopped by Counterbalance to see how it compares, weightwise.

36 lbs. Loaded the same way.

What? How could it? Let's see, it doesn't have gears, shifters, leather saddle, less chain, mudflaps (has the fenders), lights, and hub generator. And I only save 6 lbs.

It feels so light. How could it be? 36 lbs for a fixie?

Weights and Measures

2008-09-24T08:22:00.000-07:00

Here is a nice article in the Oregonian about randonneurring and all of its joys and sorrows.
http://www.oregonlive.com/outdoors/index.ssf/2008/09/to_the_randonneur_a_century_is.html

And here is a write-up from a friend's ride on the Mountain 600 a few weeks ago. I kind of wish I had taken 26 up to Windy Ridge just for the craziness.
http://rusa64.blogspot.com/2008/09/moon-and-mountain.html
Don't be confused, Mark is a monster bike rider and has been president of RUSA for a couple of years. Ouch!

On the bright side, I put my bike on the scale yesterday to see what my commuting/rando/everything ride weighs in at:

42lbs.

It's said that the most expensive question you can ask yourself is "how much does my bike weigh?" but I promise to stop right here and now.

For comparison, take that same bike from the picture at the top, take off the handlebar bag, change the tires from 32's to 35's, add a big Carradice bag filled with shoes and a camera, take off a water bottle, and there you have it. Enjoy.

Cargo Bike Ride: The People That You Haul

2008-09-23T07:51:00.000-07:00

I found out from my good friend George about this cargo bike ride happening on Labor Day and here are some more pictures. Even better cargo than my cello are my family on the tandem with the trailer.

And here we have other people hauling options, just in case you find yourself on a battlefield. Perhaps bicycle EMT's might like this solution.

My day amongst the Carbon Fiber

2008-09-10T07:20:00.001-07:00

Trees, trees, and more trees. That was the promise when Steve signed me up to ride with him on the Cascade Bicycle Club High Pass Challenge September 7th. Steve has some pretty natural gifts on the bicycle, not the least of which is that he weighs about 70lbs less than I do so despite his relative newness in the sport, he can pretty much smoke me on the hills. He also enlisted Greg, who is also new to biking but comes from the ultra marathon world so he's no slouch either.

We rented a cabin in Packwood for the weekend with our fantastically beautiful, brilliant, and charming wives and kids (4 kids total, three wives, come on!) and played around Friday night, most of Saturday, which you saw in the post below, and then rode this little ride.

We a got up early, well, I got up at 6 since the ride didn't start until 7 and fumbled around with some Raisin Bran and other sundries. Steve and Greg were already primed and pumped as witnessed here. I didn't know we were supposed to match. That's Greg left, Steve right.

Soon, we were on our way and within half a mile we had arrived at the start. There was a lot of commotion and it feels very different from a Randonneur ride, but it was really fun and I think designed to get you pumped up for the "huge" trek. The music was blasting and they had a P.A. warning people about various aspects of the ride, like some kind of war briefing. Still the nervous commotion was palpable and it was really cool. Erin showed up unexpectedly and took our picture, which I'm sure is forthcoming.

Everyone was in assorted performance gear and seemed to have the latest and greatest bicycles and gadgets. Notice the sweet not-hydration pack that Steve is sporting. I was wearing wool for the day and so the dudes thought they might bring some extra clothing for the day too. As it turned out, this pack had a streamlining effect on ole Steve and, well, we'll find out later how that turned up. Steve in foreground.

Here we have my ride for the day. It's an '85 Trek 460 64 or 65 cm frame. Yes, those are 700c/28 tires so you have the scale to work with. I was looking for a bike that would look like the racers from the 50's with friction downtubes and barely enough seatpost for comfort. I found it on Craigslist for $50 and have only lubed the chain, put on new tires, seat, and pedals. It runs great. The gearing is 52/42 with a 13/24 in the back so I was a little worried about tackling the hills, but after the ride the day before, I figured "why not?" And don't worry, this is a totally supported ride. I never needed more than one water bottle.

This is the opening pace line where I got to ride amongst the carbon fiber. Sure the bikes are nice, but look at all the carbon fiber around and along the side of the road. That carbon fiber is green and lush and makes the air smell so very nice. The dudes with me were cool too. At one point, I was leading the group and a short rider passed and took the lead. Perhaps he wasn't happy with my pace, but after a while, I notice that I still wasn't getting any wind blockage. I remarked "hey, I need somebody taller to coast behind" , to which the rider behind me yelled "That would be you!"

This is Greg racing down the hill. I made it to within 4 miles of the turn around point, had lunch, and then took off on my way, only to find about 2 miles from the end, Greg tearing it up down this hill. I had my camera ready so that I could get pictures of my buddies and I'm glad this worked. Although holding a peach in one hand and a camera in the other had it's difficulties, I'm glad I got the snap. The strange part is that Steve was nowhere to be seen. I asked Greg why I hadn't seen Steve yet and He yelled out with glee that Steve was back behind a little way. I think this was with glee because Steve set himself up as the uber rider before the ride and was constantly casting disparaging remarks on Greg's bike, which except for a garden variety front derailer issue, performed flawlessly. It goes without saying that Greg was riding flawlessly too.

Just before the last hill to the turnaround, I came upon Steve. He was in good form too and I was glad to get a photo. He's riding second from the left. Windy ridge is a bicycling paradise ever since the road was closed to auto traffic. It feels a little like the planet of the apes as you ride by amenities that were designed for modern convenience such as interpretive centers and parking lots. Buildings appear here and there that are no longer in use but the greenery is building back after the Mt St. Helens explosion. I was last up here in 2000, come to think of it and so much more is growing now than before that I almost didn't recognize it. I wonder if it will go to gravel in the future or if some, newer government might decide to allow access again and fix the place up.

At the end of the road, you reach a large parking lot and there is a gravel road leading to a better view of the mountain. None of us went that direction because it might rough up our tires but I did get this nice picture of Spirit Lake and got to show off my completely dependable and charmingly retro bike. I spent a fair amount of time in the my lowest, 42/24 gear ratio (46 gear inches if any of you are wondering) and was happy to get to the turn around point at 10:30 or about 3.5 hours after starting. Without getting all Rivendell for a second, I have to say that I really dig this frame and I think the stem is way cool.

Here's another shot of this fun little bike with Mt. St. Helens in the background behind a closer mountain. I've never been to the Johnson Observatory so I don't know how things look from the NW, but if you go around this hill, it's pretty nice. I on the other hand, was feeling like I would like to catch my compadres.

I took off back up and then down the hill, through Windy Ridge and was whooping and hollering when presently, I was beset by a tire blowout. No problem says I, just whip everything out and go to work. Once I got the new tube pumped up, the bead separated out and the blew my second tube out. This was the tube Greg had agreed to let me take as a donor tube in case I found somebody stranded. Greg, I owe you one, extra light weight tube. I'll get it to you when you hand over my trailer flags! Hostage transactions are what they are. I had now a third tube and put this one on, but first booted the tire with two dollar bills protecting the tube and also the rim from this Schwablean mess. The dollars stuck out so I only pumped the tire up to about 40 lbs and let the dollars rub against my brakes. This would be a slow, slow ride back.

I limped up to the Bear something parking lot and much to my surprise, my favorite pit crew, and arguably three of the most beautiful women in the world were waiting for me there. Claire, Sumer, and Erin came up to cheer us all on, and looked a little worried when I finally came in as heretofore, I was just a few, perhaps 10 minutes behind the others. Now I was more like an hour. Thorvald quickly set to work fixing my flat and working on my wheel. I swapped out a tire from my Cross Check (I'm very glad that I decided to go with narrower tires for this weekend on this bike as I would otherwise have been stuck), threw it on the blue bike, Thor helping all the way. This made for 5 tire/tube changes.

Here we see the extent of my pit crew: three lovely ladies and four brilliant children. Some other biker took this shot, no doubt because he was jealous. Just try to tell me that you aren't too. Pictured are from left to right, Linnea, Sumer, Pierson, Erin, Leo, Claire, Thorvald, and Brad.

Before too long, I was off and running down the road, past a motorcycle accident (they were like locusts this weekend), down the hill, passed some cars, passed many cyclists, passed a few of the food stations (I only availed myself of two the whole trip), and rode onto the finish. After a confusion about the route, wherein I stupidly tried to get riders to go the wrong way, I sort of bonked out and had to ride my own pace for a while. It wasn't all bad though because the river road from Randle to Packwood is just delightful. Just enough chip seal to appreciate my steel frame and fat tires, just enough rollers to make you push without always gearing down, just enough turns to keep you from thinking it too long, and just flat enough to recover your legs. It was sometimes a single lane and always provided nice views of plenty of carbon fiber, water, rocks, and sky.

Once I made it in to the finish, and healthily silver at that, Steve came up and bid me good arrival. I regaled the masses with tales of ruined tires, punctured tubes that were strapped to the body as insurance, beautiful angels who came to my rescue and gave me a new, if mismatching tire, and saluted my trusty steed which saw me through good times and better times.

Here is the happy family at the finish. I got my silver medal for finishing between 7 and 9 hours, and Claire was very happy to see me. Thorvald chided me for being so slapdash with my tires and tubes, and after a short rest, we were off in our cars. The tire fiasco cost me the time between gold and where I finished, but I wasn't expecting to finish gold until midway through the ride. In fact, I finished sooner than I thought I would even with hour spent with the tires so on the whole, it was a very successful day.

I have a few comments about this ride that I would like to share. First of all, driving 240 miles so you can ride 114, or in my case 185 considering the two days, feels like a bit of a waste. It was super pretty, but the nature of the ride was predicated on dependence. Dependence on the automobile, dependence on food stations every 10-20 miles so that we might complete the ride, and dependence on weather so that we can ride bikes and wear clothing that don't handle adverse weather at all. I've been up a few passes in my day and this was definitely the most posh. It was a perfect day weatherwise, ridden with perfect friends, and we stayed in a perfect cabin with a hot tub that I should say, we made excellent use of. It was super fun to ride fast and light in contrast to my usual practice, as I'm used to carrying my own gear, sometimes even watermelons, but at least enough to get me through most anything, and it was fun to ride with so many people, and see so much carbon fiber. Despite the aforementioned concerns, I had a fantastic ride and a wonderful, wonderful weekend. How about that?

Thorvald in the end was assuaged that he was able to have the medal. I'll have to bring him along next time. I got the trucker hat as a memento, and we got home somewhere around 7 after nice burgers with Erin, Greg, and Leo.

A bike to a hike to a bike

2008-09-08T09:10:00.000-07:00

From left to Right: Claire, Thorvald, Brad, Leo, Erin, and Greg all hiking in the Grove of the Patriarchs. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We were up in Packwood this weekend from Friday until late Sunday because Steve had signed me up to do the Cascade Bicycle Club High Pass Challenge. I was pretty into it and had never biked in that neighborhood before so it sounded like a deal. The ride was on Sunday but we had all kinds of spare time and spare bike capacity on Saturday so once it was decided that we would hike up at the Grove of the Patriarchs, I hooked up the trailer, threw Thorvald in, and set off up from Packwood. It was 7 miles on Hwy 12 and the morning chill was around so I closed him up and pretty soon he was asleep.

You turn onto Hwy 123 north and it's just beautiful. After 3 miles, you reach the gate of impending doom. Welcome to Rainier National park. Abandon all hope, Ye cyclists who venture here. At mile 6 on 123, or just about 13 miles, I stopped at the entrance gate to the park and admired the hand hewn elements, the mission statement of the gate either holding in or holding back. I loved it.

I love my son. Perhaps someday, he will appreciate this as much as I do right now. The tree was merely named "big spruce" or something like that.

Walking back across the the suspension bridge. I think that this is Dino Rossi's plan for rebuilding 520 on such a small budget.

After a nice lunch with friends and some time wearing out boopschon, I headed out on my way, wanting to make the most of the $5 I spent to get into the park on my bike and thinking that I could get back across Paradise and back to Packwood in about 3 hours. This was the first stop of Box Canyon. I've driven by it a number of times and couldn't really figure out what the commotion was all about. Its really nice. It a river cut out of stone, seemingly precise, very loud, and just plain cool. I also like this photo because I go on these rides all over and people think that they could never do something like this. I say, even the dude with the belly can do it. You can too.
I'm not sure how this photo..... no, wait, a group of very nice Korean students took this photo of me. It's the downward side to the west of Paradise just south of the Nisqually River. This valley is remarkable and you could see for miles. Behind the camera however, Rainier was creating its own weather with a touch of snow.

At Longmire, you take a back road south of town and haul over this bridge to take the non motorized shortcut to Skate Creek Road. This looks really new and I had heard that the washouts were severe two Novembers ago. It's nice to see some rebuilding in the style of the previous gate. Skate Creek Road is a lovely downhill into Packwood that just made my giggle. It seems to be the perfect bicycle road. I recommend it to anyone looking for a nice, but challenging bike ride up over a pass.
On another note, I can't officially condone this but since bicycles are so easily lifted over a gate, it stands to reason that one COULD go into Mt. Rainier National Park as easily as I left it. You would have to contact me to find out how this is done, but seeing as bicycles pay the same rate as those infernal motorcycles, it could be supported that those arriving under their own power could arguably be absolved from paying the entrance fee.

Riding through the tunnel at the top of a mountain

2008-09-08T07:40:00.000-07:00

This is the Cyclops. The Cyclops can see everything in the dark. Randonneurs of the world can rest eas, knowing that they too can have the best, most brilliant lighting system in the known world. This light was strapped on with bungee cords and zip ties to the to of the owner's handlebars. All I can say is that I am suffering from some serious "lighting envy".

Here is the entrance and wait, I should back up a little and help with some background. I went up with Thorvald on 30 August to help with the LDS singles campout bike ride through the tunnel at Hayak on the Iron Horse Trail State Park. We had about 30 adherents and the ride went off without a hitch. Here is some of the group coming out of the tunnel on the second time through. Why a tunnel, you ask? Because it's almost 3 miles long and this may be the only time some of these wonderful people ride their bikes during the year, so I'm here to help.

After the tunnel part of the ride, some of the more hearty members of the group decided to ride the 25 miles back to Ensign Ranch, where the campout was taking place. Two middle aged guys on mountain bikes, Kristina (pictured soon), Thorvald in the trailer, and I decided to take off. No, Thorvald has not suddenly grown 2 feet in height, this is Glenda, who decided to take advantage of my having brought the tandem to climb on and have spin. She totally rocked the house and provided great conversation as well as being a great engine.

Paselas and Iron Horse do NOT mix. The last time I rode with Panaracer Paselas (Tour Guard models) on this trail on my single, I got three flats. This time it was two but we somehow made it in. Thorvald is pictured here helping out and making sure that my tools don't get lost. A few posts down on a ride with Kent, I rode on Maraton XR's and had nary a problem. However in a few posts from now, you will see that Schwalbe tires have their own problems as well. Thorvald is such a good helper!

Kristina exhibits what I consider perfect form on a bicycle. She rides, is completely comfortable on a bike, and knows her limits. Dang, that girl is cool. She bailed me out on the third tire pump up and got the pump really hot from the friction. Dang, that girl is cool! With riding partners such as these, I have no problems with life.

Critical Massin', Police Corkin'

2008-09-05T07:32:00.001-07:00

Critical Mass took place without incident today. In other news, crime was up in all other parts of the city.

The nicest part of this ride and the parts that my wife has edited from her blog, or perhaps I never too those pictures after all, was that the police actually corked some of the intersections for us. That might be the best way to make CM go away, making it legitimate, but it was kind of nice getting a police escort, even if it meant motorcycle cops racing up the sidewalks, honking at pedestrians. We just apologized to the pedestrians and told them "hey, we asked them (the police) to be on the road too but they won't come out and play with us".

Yes, that is Mark Canizaro in the foreground.

Biking with Robin

2008-08-27T12:28:00.001-07:00

Each Wednesday, I go riding early in the morning. Most of the time, my trusty sidekick is Robin who just got a new Surly Cross Check in exactly the same color as you find on the Surly website.

Our route is as follows: we met at Gasworks, rode up to Golden Gardens to our usual cut through the road closure, which is now actually impassable. We walked up to the slide which is now cut back to the hill and then walked back to the stairs leading up to 85th NW. It's steep and we were in bike shoes, carrying our bikes, but we made it up. I should bring a camera.

We then rode through Blue Ridge down, then up, and then back to Ballard where Robin showed me a new mural at the corner of 45th and Leary NW. Once again, a camera would come in handy. Aw heck, just get out there, you crazies!

I got back at 7:20 AM and Thorvald was very happy to see me.

One last thing, now that Fall has come and the rain is here, I'm back in my element riding wise. My favorite riding weather is 50F and socked in, either just overcast or lightly raining. Kent had a great ride over the weekend with Matt and Jon. You should read it here. It rained even harder when they went. Mmmmm....... Rain and chill are so nice this time of year, which in Seattle is 9 months per year. The wool sweater is out and I'm ready.

Epic Poem for Epic Riding: The Ride

2008-08-18T21:57:00.000-07:00

A brevet in 19 stanzas: SIR 200k 10th Anniversary 2008

Peering up into the west is the moon, golden orange as a harvest consort
Digging into the earth as the sun chases it into bright daylight.
Thick is air that pierces my lungs, heavy with dew
The Dew striking thick into my cavities, the smell of the city.

Streets barren and still in the morning thickness
I see quiet street lights shining for travelers who will never enjoy
The methodical changing of their color,
Together in this thick dew, I ride onto my watery passage.

Arrival, conjoining, reunion, waiting together for safe passage,
For passage to that beginning to our real voyage
The voyage of wheels, and chain, and steel.
Asphalt, swift carrier of our hopes and dreams.

Energy, the crown stresses and strains waiting for the
Appointed minute that will break forth the dam,
Gushing waters of adrenaline, testosterone, caffeine,
Checking gear, maps, rubber, friends, competitors.

Slowly, we edge out of town, chomping to go faster,
Diligent to adhere to traffic laws known
And imagined,
Nervous energy of another sleeping town; We are interlopers.

Leaving as the sun chases, as light casts brighter
In sparkling leaves, ripping away the dew as
A breath sucked back in.
Daytime becomes our ride.

Faster, the group rides on, slashing, testing, fresh,
Charging up hills that later will find falter,
With a group, there is challenge,
With a group, there is safety from a nose glued to the route sheet.

A tandem in our group; battle cruiser, leader,
Breaker of wind and library of collective consciousness,
These ride on with us, setting our pace as we hang on,
Waiting on the hills for the sweet wake of descent.

Controlled, oases, islands of commotion,
I try to resist the Siren song of warm cookies,
V-8, beer, Coca Cola, chips,
Those mainlined additives to our desire to capture.

Youth.

Dominating our objective for personal best,
A sense of adventure, collective experience, recognition,
Recapturing something thought lost,
Most are more fit now than in days greener, clouded in memory.

The day grows warm, and I spin, slog, push, cajole,
Fighting for rhythm, fighting for speed,
Drugging myself on every downhill,
Endorphins rushing to serve on the up.

I wonder, as I arrive at each marker,
Checking my clock, gauging my strength,
Computing need resources, nature still lures,
Me to these far away places, sparking the new.

Back roads, loops of ever greater scope,
Building on those times past, maintaining health,
Fighting death's cold, draining grasp,
For today, I am strong, powerful, fecund.

Inner will dampens the pain that surfaces as the sun,
Crosses over past the middle, of time counted in,
Kilometers, miles, rods, chains, suddenly useless tires,
Maimed, we sprawl in the ditch, resting, repairing, cursing our fate.

Falling behind, tired, expectations forfeited,
Ferries missed, calculations revamped, cautious laughing,
More hills greet these weary legs.
The longest miles are left for the end; coming, waiting, holding out.

And back into the oasis of controlled life,
We coast in to adulation, knowing that we too will support,
Those who support us, those who cheer and love,
Will also feel our love as we pitch in, next time, Riding.

Our watery passage back home is regaled,
With laughing, high as the tree tops, as the eagles we
Spied drifting thoughtlessly, taken in on the voyage,
Also hunting, also discovering, we the flocks of the country road.

Arrival. Rest. Peace. Hope. Pain.
All of these things we feel, we hope, we imagine,
Ourselves to have completed a great task, not alone,
Randonneur, Rambler, Reporter, Rescuer, from mendacity,
We soar, We float, We chase, We love.

Setting sun, our job, our goal,
Accomplished, we seek comfort in home,
Having done much with little, luck this time on our shoulders,
Made ready for the new, fighting our mortality.

Seattle Rando Anniversary 200k

2008-08-18T09:25:00.000-07:00

The Mosquito's Eye View is shown here. Every cyclist knows this shot. You're riding along at a good clip, you want to find out who is about to pass you on this hill, so you spend extra energy pulling out your camera, turning it on, focusing back, making sure that you still get into the photo (for perspective, of course), center your friends, etc. After a while it gets easy.

Caitlin here seemed very familiar. I thought it was because she played a musical instrument. No. Perhaps we had seen each other riding. No. Oh yes, Claire and I went to the hospital last year and Caitlin was one of our nurses. Now that is a very small world.

Ward and I at the finish. Here's where the ride gets into particulars. I had a great, great time. The day was sunny, I had my new, well, used huge @$$ trek under foot. I was able to ride to and from the ride, it included a ferry, and I rode very well. In fact it was one of my most memorable days on the bike. I just sort of glided along, only cursed my super high low gear (42/24) a few times, and covered the 125 mile 200k ride in 8:21. I'm only remarking on this because I really thought I would be much slower. As it turned out, I never really needed to stop at the controls for much more than to get the card signed and fill the bottles, I had great people riding with me (Ward, Allen, the big group at the beginning, etc.), and the route was just plain magical. It was perhaps one of my best days on the bike.

Here's me saying "I just rode 125 miles and I feel great!"

Olympic Cycling NBC Coverage and the Mirage of Providence

2008-08-15T09:29:00.001-07:00

NBC has all of the broadcast rights for the Olympics in the U.S. If you want to see cycling in Beijing, you cannot go to a foreign website because NBC has learned from the Chinese and effectively blocked it.

Then, they don't show any cycling. I saw a little bit online but where is the track cycling? Track cycling is the most spectator friendly form of cycling. Most races last less than 5 minutes and the audience can watch. You would think this would be a shoe in.

So as of last night at 11pm Pacific Time on NBC's website, track cycling was to be shown on USA along with tennis, then, as of 6:30am, only the finals were to be shown after the tennis match because of overtime in women's soccer. Then, at 8am, cycling went back to the original schedule from the night before on the website, but the careful watcher was greeted with women's basketball. Basketball ended with 12 minutes in the half hour so what did they show? Wrap-up from other sports.

It will be a long time before I watch anything on NBC again, let alone Olympic coverage. Don't hold your breath for Saturday either.

I just wish we could watch sports that Americans are not crushingly favored. I also wish that those other sports could somehow be broadcast in the U.S. Information blackouts just feel unamerican.

Oh yeah, the British won today.

Wednesday morning ride 8-13

2008-08-11T23:47:00.000-07:00

Russia invaded Georgia. Drag.

Let's get out and ride this Wednesday. Starts at the same spot as usual (Gasworks) and this time Robin (pictured far left; photo courtesy Kevin) is picking the route.

Bike rage and second class citizenry

2008-08-10T21:10:00.000-07:00

I have a colleague who is Georgian, the Tiblisi style of Georgian. Russia is currently invading Georgia stating that ethnic Russians need to be protected. The problem is that today, those same Russians have gone beyond the ethnically Russian areas and are now bombing Georgian industrial areas. Putin, smart guy that he is, knows that Bush is a lame duck and can't do anything, and China isn't going to do anything during the olympics. Pardon the word, but this self defense line by the Russians is tantamount to a "ruse".

What does this have to do with biking? I'm glad you asked. You see, politically, Georgia doesn't matter. They aren't a world power, they used to be under domination of Russia, heck, even Stalin was from there. Georgia is small, and if you want to overrun it, it might just be a question of timing.

Most people in the U.S. drive. Most people identify with whomever they aspire to be, not those from whom they came. Cycling is cheap, and outside of expensive materials, competition and clothing, not very well respected. For this same reason, most people are against an inheritance tax because they imagine that they too will someday "have to" pay this tax, which very few pay. People want to feel powerful on the road. They want to be the person who enforces the law. They will always go for the larger car, the truck, the bling, any way to assert their power. Bikers do this with bling. This shows that they are serious users of the road and can be respected. Critical Mass riders try to take back the roads; they are Georgia. The world doesn't care about CM or Georgia because the casual news observers says "hey, it's internal, they were Russians before 91, and they didn't used to be on the road either".

Hmph.

On page three of the NYT article, you find a statistic wherein 2/3rds of bicycle plaintiffs lose. Let me tell you, cyclists don't go to court unless they are maimed. Dead ones only have the legal recourse of their families, and non dead, non maimed ones are told by police, as I once was after I was assaulted by some teenage boys in Fremont, "should I really make a report? It will be a lot of work to get the plate number from the 911 call you left. I'm surprised you can't remember it two days later" when the police finally showed up.

Yes, I'm mad that the U.S. invaded Afghanistan and Iraq and the whole world shrugged. I'm mad that Russia invades Georgia and people just want more Olympics. I'm mad that a driver ran over a couple of bikers, and they are the ones arrested. I'm mad that I can be assaulted on the road by a driver, get the plate number, I.D. the driver, name the car and distinguish where the dents are, relay that information to 911, and he doesn't even check the 911 call.

Drivers identify with drivers. Cylists are different and don't have recognizably powerful avatars like drivers do. Juries filled with drivers aquit drivers who kill or maim cyclists because they are biased. Drivers protect themselves. I'm glad that the Wobblies came out against the private automobile. I'm glad they saw it as a false sense of upward mobility. The Wobblies lost that fight, but they were right in the end. Ask yourself if you identify with Russia or Georgia, cyclists or drivers, the U.S. or Iraq. Ask yourself which side you are on.

And when the undercover cops infiltrate CM in Seattle this month on August 29th and either escalate a disturbance or create one so that they can try to shut CM down and discredit it in the eyes of the "bike shouldn't be on the road" public, I will remember the invasions of Georgia, Iraq, and Afghanistan, and I hope that I fight as valiantly as people in those countries have fought.

Roads are public rights of way. You as a citizen have access to them. Bicycles are recognized as vehicles by international treaty. Stand up for those rights. Use the roads, all of them.

Making a habit of a hobby

2008-08-06T08:33:00.000-07:00

So I like to bike. That much is probably pretty obvious by now. These 6 AM bike rides through the summer have been divine. I'm actually using a bike without fenders. I feel so sporty, so Italian, so racy. I know all you cats out there already know about the light, airy feeling of riding without fenders, but this is new to me. Of my 6 bicycles, 5 have full fenders. 4 have generator lights. One has battery lights and one, the bike without fenders, has no lights at all. I don't feel real great about riding in the early morning without lights so I'll take care of that today, but dang, I understand why you all go out there with the lightest, least complicated (except for frame materials and gears) bikes you can find.

I'm learning.

Oh incidentally, I'm going to expand the morning rides through August. Meet me Thursday, August 7th at the I-90 bridge overlook at 6 AM for some fun times over Mercer Island. Then see me again on Friday, Saturday, heck, let's do this every day. I need to get trained up for this ride coming up soon.

WWWW: August 6th 6 AM

2008-08-05T10:25:00.000-07:00

Wednesday at 6 AM. Gasworks Park Parking Lot. We'll go to Blueridge and some other fun stuff.

More Photos from the Issaquah Easton Blitz

2008-08-04T12:53:00.000-07:00

This is Kent. This is Kent with pants unzipped and rolled into his rear pocket.Here we are on the first part of Iron Horse Trail where a new sewer (purpose? new development?) is being put in.

On the way out of Easton, not wanting to backtrack, we crossed over a slough,
Hiked up the hill past the bridgeAnd then toddled down a hill with our bikes as hiking poles to steady us.
A fantastic paint job on the outhouses along the way. I love the orange, not sure about the white accents.
Action shot through the forest: Tokul Tunnel
Back at Kent's place.

Issaquah to Ensign Ranch and back with Kent Peterson in 24 hours, 47 minutes, and a good night's sleep to boot

2008-08-03T21:26:00.000-07:00

Issaquah to Easton in three easy steps:

First step: Get to Issaquah when the Blue Angels have cut off the freeway so they can act like a bunch of critical mass cyclists. Half hour becomes two hours.

Second step: Grab Kent Peterson (the only man hearty enough, in this case, something of an internet cycling legend) and ride up through to High Point Road, down the freeway to Snoqualmie, onto Fall City Road, up the Cedar River Trail, over some large pipes and onto the Iron Horse Trail, up over Snoqualmie Pass (through the tunnel), down past Lake Easton and into Easton, past Easton to Golf Course Road (still on the gravel), let it get dark, backtrack onto Hundley Road and into Ensign Ranch.

Third Step: Kiss lovely wife who happens to be waiting for you and has saved two plates of food from the rest of the church campout people.

For Easton to Issaquah, reverse order, just like a Chilton car repair manual except: stop in Easton to get Kent some coffee, determine the best cyclocross "rundown" you can find after crossing the slough, stop at the pass to help a rider with a tire blowout (not the tube, the tire)

Best of all, take some extraneous hills at the end just make the route complete. How do you screen shot a gmap route and turn it into a picture to put on your blog anyway?

Photos, courtesy of Kent Peterson. Mine are coming in a while.

Another Wacky Editorialist And My Compulsory Upbraiding

2008-08-02T18:14:00.000-07:00

Craig Groshart means well. I hope. No, I'm not sure that he does. You would have to read this to find out.

I'm not one to fly off the handle when people present these sorts of unresearched, bigoted editorials, but I do like to write rebuttals. Here is mine:

Mr. Groshart,

Thanks for your article in the in the Bellevue Reporter the other day. It's true that cooler tempers should prevail. I would like to point you to Washington State Law as it pertains to cyclists. Therein, you will find that if a lane isn't wide enough for a car to pass a cyclist in the same lane, the cyclist has every right to take the entire lane for safety sake.

To wit: http://www.metrokc.gov/kcdot/roads/planning/bicycling/trafficlaws.cfm

Question: What position in the lane should a bicyclist use?

Answer:

1) Bicyclists traveling at the speed of traffic may use the middle of the lane.

2) A bicyclist traveling at a speed less than the normal flow of traffic should ride as near to the right side of the right through lane as is safe except when a) preparing to turn b) when passing another bicycle or vehicle or c) on a one-way street, where it is legal to ride on the left (RCW 46.61.770).

3) Bicyclists should ride in the middle of the right through lane when that lane is too narrow to permit side-by-side sharing with motor vehicles, and when hazards (such as drain grates or a rough edge) prevent riding on the shoulder or along the edge of the lane.

4) Bicyclists may ride on the road shoulder, but this is required only on limited-access highways, such as freeways.

Question: May bicyclists ride side-by-side?

Answer: Yes. State law allows bicyclists to ride two abreast (RCW 46.61.770).

I fear that what you are advocating will only serve to embolden drivers to verbally scold or even physically pressure cyclists to do something not in their best interests or even more dangerous. Drivers already have the added bully club of 3-7000lbs of car to use as a coercive tool and your misreading of state traffic law does a great disservice to all vehicles and all road users.

As for the recent critical mass incident, the driver ran over numerous cyclists before anyone touched the assailant's vehicle. The fact that the driver is not facing charges for vehicular assault is a byproduct of published pieces such as yours disseminated widely that make cyclists secondary road users and subject to prejudicial actions.

Sincerely,

Brad Hawkins

Keep it polite, keep it direct, don't refer to Nazis, KKK, or George W Bush, and you'll do just fine in your own letters to the editor. Peace

Iron Horse John Wayne Distance Fun

2008-07-31T16:11:00.000-07:00

This is me last year after my third flat tire on the Iron Horse Trail. On Friday, Kent, Rob, and I are riding up to Easton for an s240 with a church camp. Bike tourers are always advising to take advantage of the kindness of well meaning christians and so here we go. It's raining right now and I'm not sure how to get to the east side as I wish given the blue angels and all, but we'll figure it out. I'll take some heavier tires with me on this one.

This is one of the unsung tunnels on the trail. I think it fun to have, if not an asphalted trail that is so handy, at least something to ride on that goes through so many climates, that is Puget Sound, and then sub alpine, followed by arid scrub, all within a few miles.

Coming back, I'm looking forward to some great wind.

Ride Reports for Tuesday and Wednesday

2008-07-30T09:15:00.000-07:00

Let's just say things were interesting.

I spent the afternoon with Thorvald and we went up to the Queen Anne Community Center to play in the toddler room. He discovered that he really likes it when daddy zooms the trucks. I just realized that if I'm taking my kid(s) to school over at Coe elementary school then I'm either going to become a super fantastic climber or I need much lower gears, or I'm going to start walking. We live at the bottom of Queen Anne Hill and Coe is, is, is, at the top. Perhaps by the time Thor is in school, this will be built. We can only hope.

We then picked up a cello bow I was having rehaired and we coasted back down to our place. Thorvald was getting sleepy so I took advantage of it and did a little workout ride before the 5:30 ride.

At 5:30, Claire came down to take Thor and Steve called saying he was ready to roll. I coasted down to the IDX building and found Steve, but not before chatting with Peter Lagerway who runs the Seattle DOT bicycle division. We bemoaned that cycling is a middle aged white guy sport and then my middle aged white guy friend (ok, we're both 35) showed up and we took off.

The first hill was Cherry which is a complete joy for cycling and then we cut through SU and up onto 19th and then the tunnel where I clipped back to pick up Thorvald. After about half an hour Steve called to mention that he got hit by a car. He's not seriously injured but we'll see. You can send him get well messages here.

This morning was fine. Ryan showed up at 6 and I was there jus a minute later. We trudged up and around Magnolia and then back to my place for breakfast. Ryan is bacheloring it for the week and I had fresh bread from the day before to show off. Not much to say there except that an hour and a half of riding in the morning sure does make for a good rest of the day.

Weekly Westbrook Wednesday morning Wramble: July 30

2008-07-29T09:56:00.000-07:00

Join Robin, Ryan and me for a 6 AM fun ride starting at the Gasworks Parking Lot. The route varies from week to week but this week will include Magnolia, just for fun.

Tuesday after work ride July 29th

2008-07-29T09:43:00.000-07:00

Thorvald and I are organizing a ride today after work. The meeting place is 5th and Pike at 5:30. The course is Capitol Hill and some of the Olmstead north ride, and then end up at REI at 7 PM so that everyone can attend the Iron Curtain Bike Path Presentation.

The pace is moderate though if you are pulling a trailer with a one year old in it, I would call it strenuous.

See you today

Critical Massin', police arrestin'

2008-07-29T08:16:00.000-07:00

So, let me get this straight.

Some driver floors it through a mob of critical mass corkers and the corkers get arrested? The driver is somehow let free? Do the police know about this law?:

RCW 46.61.522

Vehicular assault — Penalty.

(1) A person is guilty of vehicular assault if he or she operates or drives any vehicle:

(a) In a reckless manner and causes substantial bodily harm to another; or

(b) While under the influence of intoxicating liquor or any drug, as defined by RCW 46.61.502, and causes substantial bodily harm to another; or

(c) With disregard for the safety of others and causes substantial bodily harm to another.

(2) Vehicular assault is a class B felony punishable under chapter 9A.20 RCW.

(3) As used in this section, "substantial bodily harm" has the same meaning as in RCW 9A.04.110.

All I'm saying is that the cyclists were acting in self defense and the driver, using a very heavy, blunt object, sent some people to the hospital. Too bad he never made his reservation.

I'm actually a fan of critical mass, though I rarely make it because of work and family obligations. The roads are public spaces that we all use and the notion that everyone will somehow use them unimpeded is just a silly notion fomented by car commercials.

As for the police, I've made some police reports over the years when motorists have thrown things at me (twice), accelerated toward me in a dangerous manner so as to intimidate (more than twice), pull in front of me and then slam on their brakes, once causing me to crash (three times), and pull into my lane so as to pressure me off the road (numerous times, but four times that were brazen). Each time, I report these assaults, I am met with nonplussed boredom. They act as if I wasn't supposed to be on the road in the first place, or that because some magical cyclist that only drivers see has somehow discounted my report by riding through every red light they could find so as to disgrace me.

So when a driver says they floored it into a group of pedestrians or cyclists because they felt "panic", just remember that police also believed in "gay panic".

Critical mass exists because of the legal double standard that cyclists receive while using public spaces and public throughways. I say, keep it up.

First Epistle Unto The Cyclists

2008-07-28T09:49:00.000-07:00

This was from a trip Kent Peterson and I took down to Olympia to lobby our fine elected officials. It's archive, but it needs to be somewhere and it's a pretty good read. Count the flats just for fun.

Chapter 1: Wherein three wise men embark upon a journey to the temple of the Caliphate; much adventure ensues.

1. On the 6th day, in the month February, three wise men did journey to the temple, yea that temple of justice on the mount Olympus to transact their business with the Caliphate.
2. Yea, it was a long journey, a journey of exceeding greatness, a journey to show the whiteness of their souls, and to bear witness of a broken heart and a contrite spirit.
3. Before the first hour, as he is wont to do, Kent did hear a voice, a voice of great passion, a voice scratching on the window, asking for food.
4. And it came to pass that Kent did arise and did attend to this voice which did bid him. But behold the voice was not there, but was the voice of the eternal randonneur.

5. For Kent was a man of honest heart, a man who did walk straight in front of the Lord and with humble equipment did Kent walk before the lord, even did he ride before the Lord.

6. Yea, before the first hour did Kent arise and mount his bike, for a great trip awaited him to the temple this day to commune with others of the bicycle way.
7. Yea, In that morning hour, Kent rode his bike into the valley of Kent, nay, this great valley was not named for Kent but for some forefather who also rode straightly before the Lord (or did perhaps own a coal mine in the days of the forefathers)
8. Kent rode upon his bike to the Kent Station which, though with that name written upon its face, did contain none of the substance for which it was formerly known for it had reached a fallen state of a strip mall.

9. When Kent had arrived, he alighted from his saddle and did fall upon the neck of Michael, the second wise man.
10. And there was great rejoicing in the valley of Kent for where once was lost, now was found.
11. And so, the two wise men set upon their journey, each in turn leading the other until they had reached the plains of Fort Lewis upon the shores of Lake Gravelly.
12. On the shores of the Lake Gravelly, Kent and Michael did meet a man who was sore afraid, yea sore afraid that he had somehow missed the call of the Lord to go to the temple of justice.
13. And when Kent and Michael did cast their sight upon this man, yea, they did behold that it was Brad, the third wise man who did seek to travel with them.
14. And it came to pass that there was great rejoicing on the banks of the Lake Gravelly, on the plains of Fort Lewis, for a brother had been saved from despair and woe, and journey now could be made.
15. And it was the first hour of the morning of the 6th day, in the month of February that this did come to pass.

Chapter 2: Great trials and tribulations befall the three wise men, their mounts are enhumbled, an angelic visitation, the greater understanding in the Marvin Forrest.

1. The three wise men did mount their bikes and travel to the highway, on the road to the temple of the Caliphate.
2. But they were sore afraid, because the highway was busy and many highwaymen did leave pieces and scraps along the banks of the highway where the three wise men did ride.
3. And upon the banks of the highway did the three wise men ride today, casting their eyes low for fear that their tires would become planted upon those banks.

4. For a tire, ridden along the side of a freeway does ride quickly and lightly, yea, lighter than along other roads, especially those of chip seal, but by and by this tire is found planted by the scraps of the highwaymen and is shortly whithered and rotten.

5. Yea, this sore planting did happen not one mile from the banks of the Lake Gravelly on the plain of Fort Lewis.

6. And there was gnashing of teeth and mocking words of derision but Michael did throw himself upon the mercy of Brad and Kent so they did wait, seemingly unto the morrow.

7. But behold, it came to pass that an angelic minister came down, with a halo of yellow and orange light, yea, an angelic minister in the form of a DOT support truck with a bum knee came down and did offer protection to the three wise men.

8. Michael however, was wroth and stiffnecked, and swore that he had never been befallen with this horrible pestilence, thus angering the Lord of Tires, amusing the angelic minister, and striking fear into the hearts of the the two other wise men, for the randonneur walks gingerly before the Lord of Tires.
9. But it came to pass that when the tire was fixed, many words were spoken, and the three wise men bid farewell to the angelic minister and did set upon their way.

10. But behold, the same tire was planted a second time, and now a tube would have to be mended, yea, pronounced clean by a Livite (randonneur), and made whole again.
11. And so it came to pass that Brad did repair both tubes for Michael and there was great laughter and rejoicing as the journey did commence again.

12. Down into the Valley of Nisqually did the three wise men go, yea even down to the level of the great sea as in those journeys down to Jericho, and great speed was attained therein.

13. But in the depths of the Valley of Nisqually, Michael's tire was planted a third time and the wise men were sore afraid because they knew that they had offended the Lord of Tires by their loud laughter and bold speaking.
14. And it came to pass that along the highway, on the road to the temple of the Caliphate, the three wise men did alight from their saddles and ponder their fallen state.

15. And great gnashing of teeth ensued at the bottom of the Valley of Nisqually, and sack cloth and ashes were worn by Michael who found that his tube stem had taken ill and ruptured its innards.
16. But owing to the great condescension of Kent, a new tube was made available to Michael who was joyous and saw to it that Brad rebooted the tire.

17. Yea, and Brad did cast off the tire shield, spit out from his mouth the bedraggled tube and spewed forth the wisdom of the Tire Gods, showing forth the tire irons of righteousness, and with great thunder and applause, did set Michael right in his ways.

18. Properly chastened by Micahael's plague of plantings, Brad and Kent began to looked heavily on their own rear tires for fear that they might too be stricken with the same plague as had Michael.
19. Having found anguish and woe on this highway, the three wise men left the highway and sought refuge in secretive pathways toward Olympia so as not to cause disturbance and make their presence known to the guards at the Caliphate.

20. And thus was the second hour of the morning of the 6th day of February.

Chapter 3: The three wise men meet with the Caliph, whose heart is softened by the cries of the children. Much rejoicing ensues.

1. And it came to pass that Kent, Michael, and Brad did meet before the Sanhedrin (House Transportation Committee), did speak to the Caliph, and did speak with the spirit of the Lord.

2. And it came to pass that Brad did utter these words "For the children need to know that cycling is good for the body, bringing understanding to our souls, and should be promoted throughout the kingdom. For I work with the children and their hearts are turned towards cars and speeding. Stiffnecked are they for they will not hearken unto my words. Please make a decree that all cycling and walking and busing should be praised in the land but first in Seattle and Spokane as a pilot program".

3. And these words were met with incomprehension among the Sanhedrin,
4. But Brad was undaunted.
5. And it came to pass that Kent went up to speak before the Sanhedrin, and his words were wroth, for a spirit of Satan had come over the room in the form of an attorney from the AAA.

6. And Kent held forth with these words "Yea, it can be done, for I have done it, and have ridden my bicycle for many years, and have turned the hearts of my own flesh and blood to the joys of intermodal transportation choices. Fear not, for the day will come when all can partake of the goodness that is walking and biking".

7. And it came to pass that with these words, the judges of the Caliphate were somewhat swayed but the power and spirit of Kent and the love for his children, for they saw that he was a good and wise man.

8. With a start, the sorceress Barbara, came in with a flash and mesmerized the Caliphate with her powerful words of saving and opportunity cost, placing a great exclamation point on the words of others come in supplication, for Barbara's own flesh and blood had witnessed the transubstantiation of money not spent on cars being converted into money better spent on housing.

9. But with great power, Michael showed forth his wisdom and and led the judges and the Caliph to greater light and knowledge,
10 For thus saith Michael "yea, I once was as a little child, even as you are. Yea, I have driven many miles and continue to do so as a professional highwayman, but lo, I have taken these truths into my heart that cycling should be promoted and have live in accordance with these teachings"
11. And thus the hearts of the Sanhedrin were softened, and the bill before the judges was deemed a powerful salve to the needs of the younger generation, that the hearts of the children would be turned towards pedestrians and cyclists.
12. And it came to pass that it was the sixth hour of the afternoon of the 6th of February and all was found good in the eyes of the Lord.

Chapter 4: Great Rejoicing and the trip back to the land of Seattle

1. For it came to pass that after the meeting had closed, the sorceress Barbara did carry Brad and Kent back to the land of Seattle on her magic carpet (what? you thought we rode home too? Pshaw!) for they were enhungered and did not want to suffer the vagaries of the highwaymen one hour longer.
2. And it came to pass that Barbara dropped Brad off in the land of Lakewood, close to the shores of the Lake Gravelly, on the Plains of Fort Lewis.

3. And it came to pass that Barbara and Kent made it home without great sacrifice, and all was good.

The opening Salvo

2008-07-28T08:09:00.001-07:00

Dear Friends, after mooching off my friends' blogs by guest posting to theirs, commenting profusely, providing at times talking points, and then only using email lists to get my information out, I have entered the technology of 2004 and have begun my own blog.

In it you will find ride reports (archived ones from past rides will come soon), organizing posts of upcoming rides, musings on Seattle and national bike transportation policy, and whatever else I deem necessary to feed this beast. Have a great day and check back later today.