Bicycle Slo(w)

Imagine: a huge city, 6,000 bicycles to rent for an hour or a day, and 400 places that you can find or drop-off a bicycle.  For a mere $70 a year you can make use of the bicycles any time you want. 

The city is London, and the new program is supported by the mayor of London (are you listening, Dave Romero?), and is designed to improve on the Paris program that suffered a lot of bicycle thefts.  The thefts are avoided because if you don’t return the bike to a secure locking station they bill your credit card for the equivalent of $500.

Sounds like a great innovation on a great idea.

The SLO BIke Club should hope this doesn’t catch on. 

It’s a proposed ordinance by the Roads Department in Santa Clara county that would require organized bicycle events to get permits from the county.

A rural area of the county has been upset about some organized events in the past, and this year was particularly inconvenienced by a visit by the Tour of California, allegedly without adequate warning.  Sound familiar, SLOBC?

If enacted next month by the supervisors, all events with 50 or more riders would have to get a permit that would be wholly at the discretion of the county.  Bicycle organizers in Santa Clara argue that if there are no road closures, and if the riders are obeying the California Vehicle Code that there should be no permit required.  The fear, it appears, is that the law would allow the county to add additional considerations and conditions before issuing the permit.

Ouch.

Some bicycle clubs have weekly rides that might exceed 50 riders.  Even in SLO, there have been regular weekly rides which have had 30 riders, and the New Years Day ride has exceeded 50 in recent years.

Shows the importance of working with the local community AND insisting that all riders do in fact obey the laws and show respect for local motorists. 

There’s a survey you might want to participate in. It’s being administered by the City and Regional Planning Department at Cal Poly.

It is designed, they say, to “evaluate the features of the bicycle and pedestrian facilities in your community to create cities that are cycling and pedestrian-friendly for all users.” (It’s not absolutely certain that the the response patterns to the questions will reveal anything profoundly interesting or unexpected to city planners. But it’s worth a shot.)

I filled out the questionnaire online and found that it took less time than the advertised 15 minutes and generally made sense.

Go to http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/HFFBKMY

Sheesh! I’ve been riding a bicycle for more years than I care to count, fixed 100s of flats, mounted dozens of new tires, broken more than my quota of spokes (although none for for the last six years), and owned perhaps two dozen bicycles — but I never noticed!

Until this evening, when perusing Bike Snob: Systematically & Mercilessly Realigning the World of Cycling by BikeSnobNYC (Chronicle Books).  (An amusing, knowledgeable, overwritten reprinting of the blog Bike Snob NYC. Real name Eban Weiss.)

Turns out you’re supposed to mount a bike tire so that the tire label aligns with the valve stem hole in the rim.  Apparently everyone knows this but me. 

It makes a lot of sense if you have to fix a flat tire.  Of course that’s because when changing tubes you first have to find out where the tire was penetrated to make sure that the offending intruder is removed from the rubber.  Otherwise… well, let’s just say a lot of cursing will go on and your friends will be deserting you as you try to bum a tube for your second flat of the ride.

Most of us try to pump up the punctured tube to see where the air escapes and then match that with where the tube sat in the tire.  If you know where the tire was on the rim — with the label over the stem hole — you know exactly where the tire was penetrated.  But if you somehow lost track of where the tire was you have to trace every inch of the tire.  

Align the label with the valve stem hole ahead of time and your troubles are over. Bingo, you’ve found that tiny little bit of radial tire wire or sliver of glass.

So now I know: align tire label with valve hole.  Thank you, Bike Snob.

I’m no fan of professional bicycle racing.  The Tour de France holds no interest.  And IMHO Lance Armstrong is just your typical narcisistic fading jock with a talent for public relations. Further, the continuing doping scandal is neither very surprising or interesting. (In fact, just today there was another pro racer caught doping. Yawn.)

More important, I don’t think bike racing and Lance do anything to promote or create more accommodations for my primary interest: recreational cycling.

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I’m compelled, nonetheless, to think that Lance is getting shafted by the media, and perhaps by the current criminal probe by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

The U.S.D.A. has a hotshot investigator, Jeff Novitzky, who is looking into the charges that Armstrong engaged in doping.  But, as the Wall Street Journal reported today, the following is the case: 1) taking banned drugs is not against U.S. law, 2) the only evidence against him appears to be hearsay, or 3) the allegations of a known serial liar, Floyd Landis.

There would appear to be no reliable first-hand accounts of people who observed Armstrong doping, and of course we know that Armstrong has never failed a drug test.

In all the off-the-record information made available to the Journal, there is only the testimony of a couple of people who say they overheard Lance say he was going to take drugs or had somehow engaged in doping. None of these people can be regarded as reliable because they are known to dislike Armstrong.

The way the prosecution game is played in the media, if there were any direct evidence there would be leaks to the press.  What seems to be going on here is that the prosecutor is firing off broadsides in the hope of scarring somebody to come forth with solid information.

On the other hand, this is life in the fast lane for guys like the Sainted Lance.  Make enemies, and falter along the way, and they’ll pounce.

The California State Fair is in full swing in Sacramento, and there is a new exhibit that might be worth a visit tot the fair if you’re in the area.  It’s called “Pedaling to Adventure,” a large exhibit drawn in part from Davis’ U.S. Bicycling Hall of Fame.

Highlights of the free exhibit include bicycles ridden by those mortal enemies, Greg LeMond and Lance Armstrong, plus a wide array of machines from more distant history and for uses beyond racing, like those little Stingrays.

The purpose of the exhibit, in part, is to encourage riding today, according to a Davis city official who helped organize the exhibit.

Sounds worth a visit if you find yourself in Sacratomato (as locals sometimes refer to the town) whose only other charm is the American River Bike Trail.

I’ve never ridden a century.  Never.  The longest day was 93 miles in heat and high humidity at a much younger age.  Fifty seems to be my current limit, but a century is still on the ol’ bucket list.

David Feidler of Ask.Com does have some sound thoughts about how to execute a century, thoughts that would apply to any long ride.  He says: start early, pace yourself, eat a lot, drink a lot, eat a good lunch and try to savor the experience.  It’s worth reading and bookmarking his post.

Word has it that the next SLO Bike Club meeting will have a program on trikes, one of the many kinds of pedal powered traveling machines.  Should be interesting, since several long-time riders have recently switched to either trikes or recumbants.

It turns out that there are twelve difference approaches to non-standard bicycles, ranging from arm-powered to pedicabs, and there are literally hundreds of manufacturers of these machines.  In fact over one hundred manufacturers of folding bikes alone, ranging from 17 Bike to Zero Bike.  If you want to look at a seemingly exhaustive listing, check out this site.

Then there is the bike called the “Big Daddy.”  Don’t know who makes it, but it sure is a work horse.  Can carry 400 pounds on a wheel base just shorter than a tandem.

So now we know who won the Tour de France: the U.S. Justice Department. (Actually it was Alberto Contador.)

In our travels the last six weeks or so the interest in the Tour de France has been surprisingly high.  Not nearly as much interest as in the World Cup.  But enough

The interest is not so much on the actual contest. Mostly it’s focused on the question of doping, a story first fueled by Floyd Landis’ public acknowledgment of taking performance enhancing drugs, and charges that other top riders — including Livestrong Lance — routinely took them, and then by the news that the U.S. government has a very tenacious investigator looking at the possibility of criminal charges being filed against riders and managers of some racing teams. 

The most significant story that has emerged as the Tour drew to a close is the discovery that riders and teams have discovered some fairly clever ways of beating drug tests, which has led to many people feeling that even with the extensive testing done today that some of the top riders are still being aided by doping.

A New York Times blog reports that micro-dosing of the growth hormone EPO more often than not is not detected by testing and there are many people knowledgeable about bike racing who insist that doping is still widespread.  The incentive to cheat is so great because of the prolonged agony of riding and the huge potential financial payoff.  One rider caught cheating and suspended for two years said he would never race again because it was just too punishing. (I highly recommend reading the entire NYT posting.)

The more you hear and read about drugs, doping and bicycle racing the more pessimistic one becomes about the possibility of ever eliminating cheating in professional bike racing. 

One of my favorite TV shows from the late-’70s, early ’80s was “Hill Street Blues,” cops in an anonymous big city at a time when places like NY City were being crushed by crime.  Some of the characters were unforgettable. 

One was the sergeant who did the shift roll call lecture played by Michael Conrad.  He would end each talk with “… and let’s be careful out there” and it would send a portentous chill through you because you knew that by the end of the shift one or more of the cops would be dangerously, perhaps fatally, challenged.

We should be given the same admonition before every bike ride. It’s dangerous and unpredictable out there, and sometimes we forget just how much we are threatened and over-matched on the roadway.

We all know people who are terrified to ride on roads shared with motorists, some flatly refuse.  We tend to think that they’re overly timid but I often wonder whether they are just more sensible and realistic than the rest of us.

Nearly every day when I scan the news across the country there is a bicycle major injury or fatality reported somewhere. A few days ago it was the mayor of Los Angeles. Yesterday it was a former TV sportcaster from Waco, TX. Sometimes it’s a careless child, sometimes a seasoned rider.

A couple of times recently, one of them today, I’m reminded of the nearness of oblivian on the road.  Several months ago a few of us were having coffee in Los Osos when there was a horrendous rear-end crash just a few yards away.  The offending driver never even hit the breaks, and the victim never left the vehicle in the time we watched. We each had our private thoughts, mine included wondering what would have happened if the vehicle had been a bicycle.

Then today I caught another whiff of the danger, riding in Eugene along a busy road, but one with a generous bike lane.  Another rear-ender, not quite as brutal an impact, this one we both saw happen because we first heard the squeel of brakes.  Someone woke up or became alert just a second too late.

Another reminder that we’re inches, seconds, milli-seconds away from trajedy.  Some can be avoided if we stay alert and ride defensively. Some cannot.

“Let’s be careful out there.”

Another ride that exhausts a modest vocabulary of superlatives.  This one suggested by Dave Abrecht. 

The Row River Trail is 17 miles of paved, mostly flat surface that takes you to three of the covered bridges near Cottage Grove, OR, passed Dorena lake, up into the foothills.

Once the clouds had parted, it was in the mid-70s, with a moderate westerly breeze. Heaven for bike riding.

Most of the covered bridges in mid-Oregon were built in the first part of the 20th century, the earliest in 1920, the latest (surprisingly) 1948.

Quite a few are scattered around Cottage Grove, a not very prosperous town that sits along the Willamette River.

There is a website that has details on biking the covered bridges, but the best way to get yourself situation is to visit the Visitor Information office that’s part of the Cottage Grove Chamber of Commerce, ask for their bicycle map of the Row River and for their map of the Cottage Grove covered bridges. 

You can park in the library lot, or the municipal lot a block away, and bicycle the three blocks to the trailhead.  Afterward we tried a Mexican restaurant across the street that advertised $4.95 lunches with soda.  The food was great, but the bill came to about $16!  (We didn’t argue.  It was worth at least that much.)

The Row River Trail.  Add it to your list of must-do rides in the Northwest.

Forgive the hiatus.  Wasn’t planned, mostly the victim of inconsistent internet connections and lack of time.

Briefly: After Tofino, a few nights in Whistler, and some very nice day hikes along well designed multi-use trails; then to Bellingham, WA, Portland, OR, and now Eugene.

Whistler is mountain bike heaven.  The place is loaded with young people (almost exclusively) dressed in what looks like armor

taking the chair lifts to breath taking downhill runs.  Some people of all ages biked the multi-use trails, mostly on mountain bikes, although a few used road bikes. 

We walked… and walked… and walked.  The weather was cool, partly cloudy with occasional sprinkles.

Whistler has a lot of money, on the order of Aspen or Vail perhaps, and is prospering even more since the Olympics, which among other things made getting there easy with major improvements in the highway leading there from Vancouver.

(Vancouver.  Reminds me.  Canadians don’t rely much on road signs.  Going through Vancouver from Whistler to the U.S. border is a nightmare.  The road signs are small, frequently absent or misleading.  They also don’t believe too much in redundancy of signage.  If you missed a turn, you’re out of luck.  There will be no more signs with alternative routes, which we learned vividly when trying to get to the Nanaimo ferry to Horseshoe Bay.  Okay.  Now that’s off my chest.  Back to the fun.)

Bellingham was a bicycling dream.  We rode north from Fairhaven, a restored section of the city south of downtown, to a little town of Ferndale to the north, where we discovered a pioneer village made up of restored cedar log buildings. 

We were the only visitors and spent time talking with a woman docent dressed in pioneer-style dress and bonnet.

What more superlatives can be used to describe bicycling in Portland?  We had two terrific rides, one along the Columbia River, and then south to Gresham, another north and west to the Saint John bridge followed by a ride along the Willamette River to Sellwood.  Once the morning clouds burned off it was utterly perfect for riding.

We have a Portland bicycle map, and made up our ride along the Columbia.  (The ride to Saint John’s was led by our son, Greg.) The map was letter perfect and very detailed.  Based on the map, I’d guess that you could fashion thirty thrity-mile rides in Portland without having to travel the same road twice.

The town is criss-crossed with dedicated bike trails, and almost every thoroughfare has a wide bike lane.  Plus, Portland drivers tend to give you a wide berth, and stop patiently a crosswalks.

Portland deserves being thought of a Bicycle City USA.

Tomorrow and the next day we’ll pay a return visit to Eugene, and then take a turn touring some of the covered bridges east of Cottage Grove (if Dave Abrecht’s directions prove accurate). Stay tuned.

The mayor of Los Angles, Antonio Vallaraigosa, took tumble on his bike yesterday. A cab pulled in front of him, causing him to fall and end up in the hospital with a broken elbow.

The accident took place on Venice Boulevard in mid-town and the mayor ended up spending a few hours in the hospital before being released.

Bike safety has become a hot issue in the City of Angeles of late, and it’s hard not to think of bike riding in L.A., except along the beach trail, as being very risky, in a city of very impatient drivers and rough roads.

Maybe this help focus the issue.

On the other hand, Hissoner wants to be governor, you can bet on it.  Nice contrast between bicycle-riding governor and current motorcycle-riding gov.

Some say there’s no romance in bicycling, just sweat and aching muscles.  But this story shows that good things besides coffee and muffins can happen on a ride.

The couple was part of a riding group and he was dying to ask her out but lacked the courage.  Then one day at a stop sign she feel off her bike into him, and he took a spill as well, injuring his knee.

What better opening to say: “What are you doing Saturday night?”  Six months later they were engaged, and then this weekend they were married a la velo.  After the ceremony the Memphis couple let a large group of friends and fellow cyclists to a local beauty salon and spa for a reception.

And they stayed in gear every after.

Tofino, British Columbia, Canada—

The beaches are long, finely sanded, with currently tame surf and an unusual 80 degrees F. To the east are snow-capped peaks, and to the west a sprinkling of islands and shouls in an area dubbed the “graveyard of the Pacific.”

There are a few kilometers of uninteresting bike paths, and a long hard-pack beach or two for cyclists with wide tires and chains that they don’t mind fouling with that fine sand.

The bikes stay stowed away in the SUV and the hiking shoes are getting a workout.

Time to reflect on Canada.

It’s sort of in the blood, having been born and raised in Detroit, just north (!) of Windsor, Ontario, a place that came to mean escape and fun as a child.

Over the last decades there have been dozens of visits to Canada, from Nova Scotia (our first bike trip), north to Winnepeg, and west to the present location, Tofino.

Some observations about Canadians and Canada:

They take great pride in the Canadian dollar being at near par with the U.S.

There are very few American tourists, not necessarily because of the dollar, but it can’t help.  No exaggeration: For every American we have seen 20 Germans.

Every campground and RV park is half filled with rental RVs, mostly with the aforementioned German occupants.

There are no bathrooms, toilets or lavatories in Canada.  Only restrooms.

No Canadian we’ve talked with knows about, or cares about, LeBron James.

The CBC radio remains a jewel of broadcasting, although interestingly they emphasize in all their promotional announcements that they are “commercial free.”  Must be some financial pressure on them that causes the need to justify the 100% government subsidy.

British Columbia has very few government run campgrounds, and almost all are primative.

Canada Day (July 1) was a ball, at least as it was celebrated in Victoria.  Everyone dressed in red and white and carrying Canadian flags and other patriotic garb.  It was called Dominion Day years ago.  Not now. 

Canadians talk funny, and it’s catching.  Trying hard to get the right inflection for “Aye,” or “eh,” or whatever it is they send declarative statements with, i.e. “Nice day, eh.”  Maybe it’s partly a question, but it’s also an explanation.  (Meanwhile, Scoop has been trying to memorize, “Oh Canada.”)  Also things are “ooot” not “out,” “aboot,” not “about.”  Love it.

“American Indian tribes” are “First Nations” in Canada, and quite prominent in British Columbia.  Generally speaking Anglo Canadians have been much more willing to acknowledge the First Nation’s people’s claim on the land.  Although a recent proposal that Vancouver’s Stanley Park be given a First Nations name was quickly withdrawn after a firestorm of protest.  If the First Nations have the same freedom to establish casinos as their U.S. relatives, it is at least not as obvious. 

A week or so more in Canada and then a return to the U.S.