Planning. Planning for when everyone else rides again.

Good people of Connecticut.  Your bikes are once again lonely.  The bicycle also experiences seasonally affected disorder (bike-SAD).  I've noticed a few more winter cyclists / commuters on the roads this year, but it's still pretty damn sad compared to other burgeoning bike commuter cities such as NYC, Boston, Chicago, and the micro-urban Champaign-Urbana, IL.  Step it up CT cyclists.  If you can drive 2-3 hours north to ski every weekend, you sure as hell can put on the same clothes for a 3-4 mile bike ride to work on a regular basis.   Most days the roads are perfectly clear, no special bike equipment needed..

One thing I've learned at my work a day job that there are different ways to motivate folks.  Most effective is usually friendly encouragement and flattery.  Then there are those that won't move unless you berate them or embarrass them.  Not my favorite thing to do, but hey, whatever works.  Consider yourself berated.

Salem is already planning the 2013 Detour de Connecticut.  He's even pre-blogging with anticipation.  Salem is the premier advocate of back tracks and cut throughs in this compact, yet complex state.  You'll be amazed at the trails you didn't even know about.  Not to mention the undiscovered states of mind that will be experienced after 115 miles of mixed terrain riding.

BikeWalkCT is already busy planning for when the more delicate cyclists finally dust off the bikes and take them back off the hooks in the garage.  There is the CT Bike Summit planned for April 27th in New Haven.  The official Bike to Work events in Hartford metro kick back off either in April or May (not sure which).  Bike Walk CT has already started planning this summer's events.  The intrepid souls in New Haven have maintained a monthly Bike to Work event through the winter.  I've organized a couple informal IceBike to Work events in East Hartford, and downtown Hartford has threatened to do the same.

Oh yeah.  If you haven't gotten tickets yet for the screening of Reveal the Path in Hartford, you'd better do so quickly.  It looks like it will sell out in pre-sales and not have any tickets available at the door. Read more!

Fallsy Downsy

When I pointed out the "fallsy downsy" house up in East Granby, Ken remarked that "fallsy downsy" sounded like a technical engineering term.  I agree.  Fallsy downsy is the state of being just prior to falling down completely.

 

Winter cyclists are a bit fallsy downsy too.  Well, at least I am.  I have a pair of grippy studded tires, and I'll often rave about them.  They are a bit sluggish though, so I keep swapping them out for slicks right before it snows again.  Slipping on some ice is curiously fun, particularly if you see it coming.  No yard sales yet this winter, but I had a couple wagging dabs in the last storm.  The two chuckling pedestrians caught my squealing "Wheeee!" as I somehow kept the rubber side down.

Was surprised by the two other commuters who braved winter storm Helen (who didn't deserve a name really) to catch the IceBike to Work breakfast in East Hartford.  Chris tried to organize a parallel event in Hartford, but it looks like P&W employees once again whupped the risk averse insurance analysts.  We'll do this again in February.  Symbolically throwing a gauntlet down and farting in the general direction of Travelers Tower.  We'll see if we can ride on the frozen Wethersfield Cove this weekend.

If you're looking for an excuse to drink some beer, socialize, and gab about bikes in February, look no further.  Reveal the Path movie screening at the Wadsworth on Tuesday, February 5th.  Movie starts at 7:30pm, and is preceded by happy hour at Arch St Tavern.  Get your tickets ahead of time.  Last year's screening of Bicycle Dreams sold out at the door.  See you there.  The movie is presented by Bike Walk CT.

And I found this very snazzy "burner" down by the CT River near Charter Oak Landing.  Thought you might like it as well.

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Ice race?

I've been belly aching to one and all about the warm January temperatures. Well, I got my wish: it's going to be cold this week. It does not appear that the five day forecast gets above freezing or even above 30. As you probably know from studying magic or science in elementary school, that causes water to become ice. That can happen in places like ponds or the Wethersfield Cove. With it being cold all week, I bet you that these bodies of water will become things that you can ride your bike on, because there hasn't been a lot of snowfall.

Several years ago, Salem and I rode up to Congamond for the NEMBA ice race. Salem was dropping off a bike part for someone and I thought Southwick was too far away to ride with studded tires, so we were just spectators. Wethersfield Cove is closer and much more easily ridden to with studded tires, so we should have an ice race of our own here this weekend.

Should we do this on Saturday? Would it be awesome? Would it suck?

Read more!

Winter bike culture in CT - Bring it!

Hartford and East Hartford IceBike to Work
Next week.  Wednesday, January 16th.  A group of hardy winter bike commuters will be meeting up for breakfast at 7AM (or thereabouts).  Nothing formal, just tasty breakfast (and coffee) and hearty banter.

In East Hartford we'll be meeting at Maddies right across Main Street from Pratt & Whitney.  In Hartford they'll be meeting up at JoJo's on Pratt Street.

This month we'll be talking about riding in slush, ice, and snow.  What tires do you run?  Have you taken a digger yet this season?

Reveal the Path - Movie Screening and Bike Walk CT Social

Hey folks - We're screening a bike film Tuesday, February 5th at the Wadsworth Aetna Theater.  The movie is Reveal the Path, a bicycle travel / adventure movie.

Would love if y'all could join us and help get the word out.  A portion of the ticket sales goes to Bike Walk CT, so in addition to this being some great CT bike culture - we're doing a little fundraising to support our advocacy and education efforts.  Was very pleased with the movie we screened last year (Bicycle Dreams).  We sold out!  Tickets can be purchased online for $11 and will be $15 at the door.

There is a Facebook event (https://www.facebook.com/events/126046007556892/).   Invite your friends.

Similar to last year we're going to happy hour / socialize before the movie at Arch Street Tavern.  Happy Hour starts at 5PM.
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Ice Queen

On account of running late and being sleep-deprived, as usual, I made a series of wrong choices this morning.
First, the skirt I wore was not one I'd cycled in before. This was a minor nuisance as it cut into my mobility a little. Still, being stubborn and not having time to really change into anything better in less than two minutes, I worked through this. The bag I brought was also not the greatest to hold onto while riding, but again, I was mostly thinking about what would be convenient for the longest amount of time during the day. This purse has lots of zippered pockets including one that's large enough to hold my camera. I was aiming for something that would keep my keys, debit card, and bus ticket secure all day long. The worst choice was simply forgetting the grab my gloves. By the time this was apparently a problem, I did not have time to turn around. I ended up stopping twice on my 8-10 minute ride so that I could attempt to revive my fingers.


See, while it is less expensive for me to travel to New York than to the other side of Hartford, the Megabus waits for no one. The drivers are not vile, obnoxious people who routinely force cyclists into unsafe situations. If I tried to cut off one of them, they'd no doubt stop and check on my safety...but like hell would they let me on the bus after the scheduled departure time has arrived. It's frustrating, sure, but I admire it.

My admiration was a bit fuzzy, though, as I attempted to lock up my bike as quickly as possible. It's hard to do this with fingers that are alternately numb and painful. I must've looked like a dope fumbling with my helmet, unable to get it to release because I could not feel where the release-thingie was. A group of college-aged boys stared at me during all this, and not in the "hey, check out that awesome babe" kind of way. It was more like "Gawd, I hope she doesn't sit anywhere near us." Don't worry boys. I'm old enough to be your mother and that cougar thing is played out.

Meanwhile, my fingers are still not coming back to life and I'm feeling nauseous, which is to say, status quo these days (except for the fingers). The thought occurs that I should just cut my losses and go to the doctor instead of New York City. My lack of health insurance and possible frostbitten brain convinced me instead to go to New York anyway. If nothing else, I'd experience a different type of hospital. I also convinced myself that my grandfather must've gotten frostbite when he'd go hunting. Oh, were you looking for logic in there? My grandfather died a decade ago, he was a boxer and had been shot, and was basically way more hardcore than me. Not the best point for comparison.

So, I'm sitting on the bus while it loads, looking like a maniac probably because I kept pinching and wiggling my fingertips. Some blonde woman who sounded like she'd done a few lines of coke with her breakfast asked to sit next to me. And then, mind you, at not-quite-6:30-in-the-morning, continued to keep talking. She finally got the hint (6:30 is for sleeping on the bus) and moved away. The rest of the trip down was uneventful unless you count the emergency stop in the median and then the person directly in front of me violently and loudly puking into a plastic bag for about an hour and fifteen minutes. I so wish that I was exaggerating.

As the bus made its way through Harlem I began noticing the many remnants of stolen bikes. A u-locked wheel here. A frame there. It did not seem unreasonable that when I returned to Hartford I would find my own bike in some stage of being stripped down. After all, I used only one lock -- a combo one -- and given my delirium/numbness, it was possible that I had not even bothered to do that right.

While I wandered around searching high (Bergdorf Goodman) and low (H&M) for a damn pair of gloves or mittens, I noticed two things. First, even though it was chilly and still winter, I was expecting to see far more cyclists in Manhattan. It's NY, for chrissakes! You all are supposed to be tough as spit and mean as nails. Sure, by Hartford standards, there were multitudes of cyclists...in Central Park. But I did not come close to being run over or even grazed by a cyclist once, and trust, after the craptastic way my day began, if it could've happened, it would've. And two, I ended up buying the most bootleg (and overpriced for what they are) pair of glove-mittens from a street vendor because even though it's still cold enough to wear gloves, it's not cold enough to continue selling them in most stores, even in the ones that find it reasonable to charge $650 for a pair of ballet flats.


After a long bit of being creepy and taking pictures of strangers riding bikes or making wardrobe adjustments, I decided to move on out of Central Park, even if it did provide the most diverse group of people for that aforementioned people-watching. Unlike my excursion last year around this time, I was not as envious of those with wheels. Maybe my still-frozen fingertips had something to do with this, or maybe I was just wearing more comfortable footwear that did not make me instantly long to sit down. Since I don't have a folding bike, I might not get to know the joy of riding through Central Park. It seems silly to rent a bike, particularly after viewing what was available -- rides sized really wrong in some cases.

What the rental bikes have that my own Starry Bike does not is a basket. In most cases, that's fine. I've got panniers, but again, this morning was not the time to search for my other lock and figure out how to secure the pannier to the bike all day long. This would have helped immensely for my ride home, which involved not just the awkward purse, but a bag full of stuff and things acquired during the day. The awkwardness was the least of my problems when I got back to Hartford. The bike was still there and it appears that everything that should be on it is. The trouble was that after being on a bus for three hours and in various states of consciousness, I, of course, ran into a friend who rides surprisingly fast as hell. Since he mocks the law by not using lights at night, I felt obligated to keep up and light the way. My fingers were much warmer on the ride home, thanks to the gloves (that with my luck are probably infested with bed bugs).

Lessons Learned Today

• wear gloves
  
• don't try out different fashion choices before sunrise
  
• if someone is clutching a plastic bag on the bus, do not sit near her
  
• bring that ugly nylon backpack thing for trips that may involve shopping. It'll make the lugging of stuff home later easier, and it never needs to come out of the purse until you're back on the bus anyway.
  
• do not allow solo travelers to strike up conversation with you. They are all crazy and will tell you things about their families you do not need to know. Talk to the homeless guys instead.
  
• you're not supposed to grab the bread rolls in fancy restaurants. You point, and then the waiter tongs them for you. The $12 glass of wine should tip you off to this type of protocol.
  
• locate locks, ugly helmet that you won't cry about if it gets stolen, and lights at NOT quarter to six in the morning

Read more!

Still winter

But in a good way!

After work, I decided to see if I could go ride on the East Hartford boardwalk. I couldn't, too much snow. I meandered around for awhile and found a vase on the sidewalk by the highway behind the Morgan Street garage. Then, I rode down to Wethersfield to find that the snow was all gone from the Cove, but the ice was still thick. So, I rode out on it.

I highly recommend this.




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Incredulity

It was the discussion of banana portaging that grabbed my attention while reading Bike Snob NYC yesterday, but the part of his post that had real staying power was something I had basically buried in my brain as I read it. At night, I went to some semi-glitzy, social networking event, and yeah, I rode my bicycle there. I hadn't ridden in a few months and was tired of that, plus, this event always creates a traffic jam and I have has much patience for sitting in traffic as I do for incompetence in the workplace.

Before even leaving the house, I was hearing how basically I was crazy for riding my bicycle when it was this cold outside. I'm not going to sugarcoat it. I've ridden in more pleasant weather, but I have been regularly walking to work, and the cold has bothered me far less than the impending doom promised by uncleared sidewalks. There were days when I would have worried less about such things, but I have a mortgage and no health insurance; I am constantly calculating how much a slip would cost me should I have to go to the emergency room for a broken bone. It's exhausting to feel so much contempt for fellow earthlings who are both too lazy and immature to take care of their shit.

Anyway, what I learned on the route there was that Starry Bike, for the most part, can deal just fine with ice. While I was a bit out of shape and winded, the trip didn't take very long -- much less than it would've if I walked and less than if I drove -- and I never got too cold. I was able to lock up at a bike rack (thanks to Tony for the tip), use a locker inside where to stash helmets and unsexy accessories, and enjoy a child-free event. It's not that I don't like some children. It's just that there is a certain pleasure to be had in cussing up a storm in a space that is usually lousy with youths.

When they turned off the lights and kicked us all out to the curb, it took us awhile to get our bikes unlocked. People were streaming by and some drunk (I'm hoping drunk, because otherwise he is just an ass) guy is all like "Oh my God! She's gonna ride a bike." Now, my response was a passive aggressive comment to Interstatement about how people stupidly don't understand the way sound actually travels, and people who are being talked about can hear the conversation too. In younger days, I would've just gotten up in his face for that spewing of dumb.

That's when it clicked. I remembered a key part from the Bike Snob NYC post:

One of my favorite aspects of any bicycling-themed news report is always the reporter's total incredulity that someone actually rides a bicycle. Note her inflection when she says the following at 44 seconds:

His bikes have more miles than his car!

I love how she says it as though that's the epitome of insanity, in exactly the same way she'd say something like: "He keeps an incredibly rare Fahaka puffer fish in his toilet!"

The intonation of the comment was absolute incredulity. That's the perfect word. If I said I was going to birth eight babies at once without a partner, he may have been less amazed. Out-of-control breeding is more normalized than using self-powered transportation.

This is not the first time I encountered this incredulity.

Months ago, I wrote about (but never published) an account of an unfortunate exchange between some Audi-driving moron and myself. I found myself at an event that had jumped the shark so long ago that simply calling it "tired" will suffice for description. I was jubilant to get the hell out of there but had to fumble with two locks first.

Meanwhile, this uncreative, blonde-haired pustule was standing nearby, trying to get my attention. Imagine his lines slurred:
Audi: Hey Dorothy! Dorothy!
Me: *ignores*

I had gotten the locks off, attached the back light, and had to rig up the headlight. Since there is no proper way to attach the light on the Jenny, this was taking awhile. At some point, I made the mistake of turning around and making eye contact.

Audi: Excuse me?
Me: Yes? [read that with rudeness and annoyance in tone]
Audi: Let me just tell you two things.
Me: *rolls eyes* What?
Audi: That is an amazing dress. Are you going to put that basket on the bike?

It should be mentioned that the basket had already been affixed to the bicycle. Three beers fewer and he might have noticed this.

Audi: Where did you get your basket?
Me: My BOYFRIEND gave it for me, so I don't know where HE got it.

I hate having to do that, but my memories of being a pugnacious youth taunt me and I don't want to wind up with a public defender for kicking some deserving brat in the shins.

At this point another woman walks by to retrieve her bike. He begins to annoy her.

Audi: Hey, how come you don't wear heels and a dress like her?

The woman mumbles something back and quickly maneuvers her bike out of there. The jerkwad turns back to me.

Audi: How're you gonna get home? You're gonna have a tough time riding home in the dress and heels? How're you gonna ride side saddle?

Me: I fucking got here didn't I? I rode here wearing the same thing I'm leaving in.

Still futzing with the light, I gave up and rolled it somewhere away from Audi Guy so that I could attach the light in peace.

This incredulity, as described here, can be rude, but sometimes it's more innocent. Whatever the case, I don't get it. How do these people control themselves when they see something truly amazing? Do they awegasm at the sight of a bear riding a tricycle or while watching a child get born? Do their brains explode on spot at the sight of a Tiffany's diamond display case? I can't even imagine what it must be like to be so simple-minded. Read more!

Drippy bike

While my fenders aren't the best, they fend pretty well. When it's above freezing and melting outside, I stay pretty clean. However, the gross stuff gets impacted up in the fenders. When I bring my bike inside and park it next my cubicle, it drips. Is there a cure for this? I used to park it in a more out of the way spot, so the drips didn't bother anyone, but now it's right out in the open. Read more!

The Treacherous Pursuit of Safety

There was a lot of snow on my roof, with 3-4 foot drifts on the southern side. With the recent rash of buildings collapsing in Connecticut, I was getting nervous. My first attempt to shovel it on Monday afternoon was kind of terrifying, as the snow on the tarps currently covering some of the roof made me slip a couple of times. I cleared off the deepest drifts for a few hours and gingerly climbed back down the 40 foot ladder, determined to acquire some sort of safety harness before returning. Everything closed early on Tuesday, so first thing Wednesday morning I headed for a welding supply place on Murphy Road that carries safety gear. I chose the most direct route that featured major streets, as many side streets had not been plowed yet. Of the streets I rode, Park Street was the best and Wethersfield Ave was the worst. I had a pretty good wipeout on the latter street which left me with a sore wrist. Airport Road wasn't fun, either, come to think of it. It was a pretty sketchy ride that I didn't particularly enjoy.

I arrived at the store glazed with ice and soaked with sweat. They were already preparing to close early, and I was happy to get in under the wire. I bought an OSHA-approved harness and lanyard in a bucket. It was called "Compliance in a Can" which is my favorite product name since "Pope Soap on a Rope".

Having no desire whatsoever to retrace the route I had taken to get to the store, I followed Murphy Road to Reserve, past the regional market and Coltsville. The snow conditions were no better than the busy roads, but the minimal traffic made the return ride much better. I began to actually enjoy myself. The few cars and trucks I saw gave me a wide berth, and the only time I heard honking was a guy in an MDC truck giving me an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I found myself calmed and entertained by the sight and sound of slush churning around the tires and oozing out the leading edge of the front fender. It sounded like a Slurpee machine. Mmmm, salty.

The Mundo has been handling better than I could have ever reasonably expected in the snow. The 26x2.0 Schwalbe Marathons I recently installed are fat and smooth, which should make them utterly useless in the snow, but they worked; not well, mind you, but they worked. The rear wheel had surprisingly good traction as long as I kept my weight on the saddle. The front wheel was prone to handlebar-jerking deflection and washouts in the deeper, more irregular deposits of snow, but could be easily corrected in all but one instance. The front brake grew stiffer and a bit grabby, but never failed to work.

I still dream of building the ultimate winter city bike someday, but I'm satisfied that the current configuration of the Yuba can serve as my four season workhorse. There are a few minor tweaks I'll make, of course. I do want to rotate the front fender rearward, for instance, as a substantial amount of slush was flung at my feet and the bottom bracket shell. Minor details aside, it got me where I needed to go and it got me home again. Most importantly in this case, it helped me safely clear a lot of heavy snow off of my house which took a load off my roof and my mind. Read more!

Bikes Outside: Monterey Salt Festival

This morning's Bike Outside was spotted this past Sunday afternoon at the Hartford Public Library. With high temps barely into the teens and stern frostbite warnings on the radio, I was surprised to see two bikes locked up upon arriving for yesterday's Baby Grand Jazz show. This is one of the better bikes I've seen wearing the Murray badge. The componentry is solidly 1970's with some 60's aesthetic nostalgia thrown in, especially the champagne (pronounced in the manner of The Continental, of course) paint and the chainguard lettering. The 3-speed hub was too crusty to identify, but I'm assuming it's a Shimano or Suntour based on the decidedly non Sturmey Archer thumb shifter. The Altenburger Syncron brakes are great period pieces. They have a mixed reputation, but they are credited as the precursor to the dual-pivot sidepull brakes that are the modern road bike standard. They are also setup with the right hand lever activating the front brake, an arrangement more familiar to motorcyclists or European bicyclists.

The very presence of this bike on the roads yesterday called for some teeth-gritting fortitude on the rider's part and some sturdiness on the 40 year old bike's part. That said, I hope the owner is faring better than the salt-encrusted Murray's drivetrain. So very very salty! Had I spotted this bike in motion, I'm sure that I would have involuntarily cringed to hear that poor rusty chain laboring around. I want to take this bike in and give it a hot shower and a major overhaul in front of a roaring wood stove.

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Comes to an end

So, it would seem that my days of awesome xc skiing will be coming to an end due the bizarre ice crap falling from the sky. It was so great I've converted Johanna into a cross country skier.

But, once again I was to attract to awkward stares of pedestrian, drivers and bus stop waiters astride my incomprehensibly awesome snow commuting machine. I'm told this falling ice crap is going to turn to water crap in the afternoon, so I'm preparing myself for the grossest commute home of all time. Grosser than this. Or this.

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The niche for fixed gear mountain bikes

Fixed gear mountain biking is like regular mountain biking, but harder. It greatly expands one's likelihood of hitting feet on rocks, roots, etc. and greatly reduces one's ability to reposition weight on the bicycle because one has to keep the pedals moving. Don't get me wrong it's fun, but it's harder.

I've opined about this before, so I won't blather on anymore. However, I did want to lend my support behind the superiority of fixed gear mountain bikes when commuting in the snow. Sheldon Brown knew what he was talking about. 32:19 might be a crappy gear for bike commuting in general because of all the spinning out, but it's great in the snow. Braking without braking is great!

In other news, I wonder how it'll be until mountain biking is possible again.

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Bike Raquiem

The bike rack in the parking lot at the corner of Ann and Pearl Streets was a nice, albeit poorly installed, one. The "Wave" or "u-n" configuration is one of the more useful forms a bike rack can take, and it was even a nice shade of green. The half-assed and ham-fisted manner in which it had been bolted to the ground made it loose and wobbly, but it was large enough that I felt secure leaving the Yuba there for hours. It was also visible from the office of my employer for added peace of mind. Here it is this past autumn with the Yuba and some selfish asshat's obnoxiously-parked BMW:

For the past week or so, the rack was concealed by a giant mound of plowed snow. I locked my bike to a signpost across the street and grumbled at how inconsiderate it was to completely bury the only bike rack in a section of downtown that is disproportionally over-devoted to car parking. As the warmer weather melted the snow, however, it was revealed that the plow-hack had in fact destroyed the rack as well.

The person or persons responsible for plowing this lot should replace this bike rack at once. Failing to notice an 8 foot long bike rack, or any fixture on your customer's property is inexcusably unprofessional and incompetent.

Also, can the BMW drivers please give it a rest and park within the lines? The owner of this X3 is fully deserving of the term Masshole.

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