January 2010

You are currently browsing the monthly archive for January 2010.

I’m grateful for the blinding luminescence granted by the white sheet covering the city today. The grey clouds finally exhausted of their precipitation, I feel the sun like a knife intervening against the oppressive sameness of mud, wet and darkness.

The cold crawled right through my wind barriers today. Hands and feet are still warming up from their tingling freeze.

When I came home last night I had to do a bit of clearing up from that very strange weather yesterday. Ferocious wind, blustery snow, total whiteout, sunny & clear.

I was thankful for the car-free household: shoveling means only clearing a 6′ wide section.

Winter is tolerable for a few reasons, and today is one of them. After we suffer for days (weeks?) with a steadily increasing slush/mud/sunless greyscape, it just takes a slight change in pressure, temperature and humidity to bring this to the world.

Everything dirty, wet and decaying is covered by the bright white of fresh snow. It’s quiet; the heavy wet flakes hitting my face alternately bother and make me smile.

Traffic is slow, and pedaling luxuriously on the right, I’m tracing new paths in a feathery road.

Like most, I find myself feeling low sometimes during these grey, muddy days. We’re well dug in to the middle of winter, unpleasantly faced with traversing as much time with this weather remaining as we’ve endured already.

With pithy accuracy, David Attenborough says “If I can bicycle, I bicycle”.

I do the same, and I think that element of activity helps offset some winter blues. It certainly makes my mornings a little more exciting; I love feeling invigorated when I arrive at work.

But at the other end of the “If I can bicycle, I bicycle” spectrum is the less desirable elements of a (ethically, spiritually, politically, personally necessary) choice: it’s 6:45pm, you’re missing a key ingredient for the dinner you’ve started preparing. It’s dark, raining; drivers are in a hurry to get home, you’re in a hurry to get things done. Cycling to the corner store is still a choice – a good choice, at that – but it isn’t necessarily contributing to the “active transportation equals happiness” pitch that we tend to foster.

How about we make a small change to that equation? Active lifestyle equals happiness — or at least can contribute in a meaningful way to reduced stress, a clearer mind, and the ever elusive sense of well-being.

These aren’t just buzzwords. And “these aren’t just buzzwords” isn’t just a buzz phrase. For the past two years, I’ve been experiencing the benefit of taking the ‘active lifestyle’ stuff serious. I go to the YMCA twice a week at lunch for a workout class, and am never happier than on those days. I sleep well, eat well, and feel good. I feel stress fade, and find a sort of clear headedness that I could never produce otherwise. I’ve seen radical changes in my body, energy level and overall fitness. Sometimes I really don’t want to go – I’m feeling well-planted in my chair at work, or just a little lazy/tired/behind in work, or the weather’s nasty outside. But I’ve trained myself – and it’s taken quite a while to get to that point – to always just go. The secret behind active living, active transportation is…you’ve got to actually do it. It’s that simple.

Like I said in an earlier post, it’s not about what shirt/app/tool/gear you need to buy to do something. The hardest thing – and what becomes, eventually, the simplest thing – is simply doing it.

Consuming and the perceived necessity of consumption as a prerequisite for action is the easiest way to avoid actually acting in the world!

We’ve had the pleasure of working with these folks to develop an awesome video and print campaign we’ll be letting loose in a few weeks. The commercials & photoshoots for posters will be premiering in late April, though I can probably pull some strings and get them up online for you earlier than that.

Anyway, they’re wrapping up the finishing touches on the video stuff, and I donned headphones and a steely demeanour on Wedneday to record the voiceover for the ads. It was fun (as these sorts of kooky job-related adventures always are), and I look forward to sharing the results here!

The unseasonably warm weather of late has left me fantasizing about riding without the slow, noisy “bvvvvvvvvv” of low pressure, high rolling resistance studded tires. People can hear you a block ahead, and often whip around before you slog by because of the curious sound.

Things What Make Pedalling Feel Like You’re Pedalling Through A Glue Swamp

  • Knobby tires (think mountain bikes) have a higher rolling resistance on asphalt because of all the grabby bits.
    Solution: Slicks or semi slicks. If you’re riding predominately on asphalt and concrete, tires with minimal treading can make it much easier to pedal. The proliferation of knobby tires rose with the late 80s/early 90s popularity of mountain bikes as street bikes. Thankfully, this trend is slowly dying away…thank goodness.
    You may lose a “sense” of traction provided by the knobby tires, but on asphalt, they’re arguably no more stable or “grabby” than an appropriate (semi) slick tire. Physics tends to take care of that.
    You can often get semi slicks in the same width as a mountain bike tire, if stability is a major concern.
  • Low tire pressure makes everything harder. The tire squishes out where it comes in contact with the road, creating a constant flat dead spot as you’re pedalling. You also run a greatly increased risk of getting flat tires (pinch flats, in particular) with low pressure.
    Solution: Check your tires: if you can squish them at all with your bare hands, you’re very likely running them at a pressure that is too low. There should be a printed inflation range on the side of your tire. If you have a pump with a pressure gauge, pump the tire to the high(er) end of the inflation range. If you don’t have a gauge, pump the tire until it is hard to squish from any direction.
    Now, one caveat: the reason tires have a range of inflation is for two things. Comfort and traction. The higher (harder) the pressure range, the faster your tire will be — but the bumpier your ride will be because the tire isn’t flexing at all. The lower the pressure (in the recommended range), the softer your ride will be, but you’ll find that it’s a bit harder to push your bike to high speeds.
  • Studded tires. They’re like knobby tires, but with even more rolling resistance because of the little bits of metal.
    In winter, studded tires are king. It’s one of the few times for on-road riding that you should consider using the bottom end of the recommended inflation range. With the lower pressure, your tires splay out where they come in contact with the road and allow the studs (or rubber, if you’re using regular tires) to bite in to the snow.

Anyway, I’ve been feeling kind of curmudgeonly towards my studded tires of late – the lack of ongoing snowfall, and ongoing mild temperatures has made them feel more like an annoying accessory rather than a critical necessity.
But then!
Today we’re at -13c, and as I pulled into the Green-Up parking lot, I was starkly reminded of the necessity of studded tires.

Ice! Ice! Ice! It’s a gravel-and-earth lot, frozen solid since the first snowfall, slippery through-and-through. And as the StrongLikeBull studded tires bite into the ice, saving me from any slippery peril the last treacherous few strides of my commute might proffer, I feel (mildly) vindicated.


An oddity amongst the world of carbon bikes, electronic shifting, weight-obsession, and gear-buying, Rivendell Bicycle Works has been in business since the mid 90s, selling and proselytizing a certain kind of (much needed) conservatism with regards to bicycling, bicycles and anything those two things come in contact with. One element that has certainly built their reputation is the sporadically published Rivendell Reader, a sort of zine documenting the bike industry, interesting bikey folks, diy tips and, more generally Opinions About Things Which Need Opinionating.

The latest publication, RR 42 (9mb PDF), has a small section that totally and completely speaks to my own “bike politics”, and by extension, my outlook in general.

How to make the rest of your family hate riding
• Coach them on proper technique and critique their performance so they know where they stand.
• Insist on proper saddle height even if they’re afraid of not being able to put their feet flat on the ground. tell them the truth—that pedaling with a too-low saddle will lead to chondromalacia. that will motivate them with worry on top of their fear.
• Teach them the wonders of drafting, and be sure to overemphasize the difference it makes at family riding speeds.    Make them ride scarily close to your rear wheel. and teach them about rotating pace lines.
• Buy them upscale bikes, and remind them how expensive they are. the guilt they’ll feel for not ap- preciating them is a fantastic motivator.
• Make sure they know that expensive bikes make hard hills easy, so when they’re struggling, they’ll think it’s them, and work harder to improve.
• Force them to wear lycra shorts and jerseys. this will reinforce how easy and natural it is to just hop on a bike and ride somewhere.
• Get them clipless pedals and matching shoes so they have that “locked in” feeling. emphasize how much easier it is to ride this way, “once they get used to it.”
• Point out stellar examples. if you ride in a club with fast women, tell your wife that if she puts some effort into it, she can be like them. if your child is chubby, admire his or her fitter friends.
• Give your teenage daughter who doesn’t ride a bike a bracelet or necklace made of a bicycle chain. that will put her in the riding mood for sure.
• Race vicariously through your children. be- lieve you’re doing them a favor by turning play into a lifetime obsession with cardiovascular fitness.

(link, page 63)

We don’t need special gear, intrusive experts, big businesses or institutional support to do the things we enjoy. Everything leisurely – and even everything that isn’t leisure – has billions of marketing dollars behind it, attempting to hoodwink us into believing that we need to buy, buy, buy in order to do anything at all. And if we don’t need to buy something in order to do something, we need to consult with an (often self-labelled) expert in order to feel that we’re doing it “properly”.

I often feel like this dependence on stuff, this dependence on people and corporations outside ourselves is one of the most paralyzing and disempowering things about living in the West today. The masses – regular folks – aren’t to blame for this either. We can’t be held entirely accountable to the enormous media machinery that affects our mental landscape, vying for a piece of our attention to float dollars their way. Our job, instead, is to – as best we can – think critically about what we do, why we do it, and how we do it. Remaining critically engaged with our choices, actions and sense of agency is a hugely important step in building good communities, creative & responsible children, and a better world.

Saturday morning market brussel sprouts by bike.

The only concern is making it through doorways.

The wide stalk knocks on jambs, errant sprouts rolls under couches…

Our house sees a great deal of bike in-and-out action. For longevity and theft prevention, we store all of our bikes inside. I currently own two bikes (Marinoni Turismo touring and Surly Cross-Check winter/commuter), and Sarah has three. To preserve our nicer rides, inactive bikes live in the basement (a typical Peterborough century home cave-like space). We’ve been dragging the on-the-go bikes through the house to a back room for storage.

This was a passable strategy for the summer: it’s ok if the front door stays open for 30 seconds while you carry the bike to the back, and your shoes are either easy to slip off, or not terribly dirty.

In winter, of course, this all changes: the bikes are covered in slush and snow, it’s a big hassle to take off snowy boots to carry the bike back, and minimizing open entry doors is a wise energy decision.

In any case, the back room has turned out to be a bad long-term solution: carrying the bikes through the house several times each day for work and errands, sometimes in a rush, leads to nasty pedal strikes gouging doors and walls.

Something had to be done!

We figured there was enough space right by the front door to hang one bike on the wall. With two different hooks in hand, we tried to screw them into the lath and plaster (there’s no stud to be found) with expanding molly bolts.

Twice.

First attempt (the bottom plastery mess) used the two-screw hook, and ripped out of the wall in the middle of the night with bike attached. The second attempt, with four molly bolts strongly installed…well, the top bolt begin to pull out after a day while hanging the bike. Disaster!

After some deeper consideration and with mounting urgency — this is the entrance! — I came up with a new plan. We bought a 6′ poplar board, routered, sanded, stained, and verathaned it. I’d screw the board into the wall, then the hook to the board, making the board a 6′ lever. If this ripped out of the wall, we basically wouldn’t have an entryway left. But I’m presuming that physics will prevent such a catastrophe! This is one of the benefits of lath & plaster over drywall, where there is wood to screw into virtually anywhere in the wall. If you disperse the load well enough, the lath should hold.

I went with poplar not only for the price (it’s a mid-range expensive wood), but because it’s a relatively light hardwood. You wouldn’t want to use pine for this application because it isn’t strong enough to act like a lever, it would just bend. At the other end of the spectrum, oak is super stiff, but very heavy — and I think minimizing the weight that the wall is bearing is a good idea.

Anyway, here’s the result! With a plastic drip tray below, it’s worked perfectly for almost two weeks now, and I’ve been keeping a close eye on it for wear. So far as I can tell, it’s gonna stay stuck.

Now we just need to figure out where the second bike is gonna go…

…Is a mighty fine work of art.

Workplace coordinators received one last year at the end of Shifting Gears in May for their excellent work promoting the program among colleagues. About 50 were handmade by George at Park St Pottery, and the one I managed to finagle out of the lot has become Official Morning Coffee Mug. The brown and blue hues, the swooshy foot patterns, the gentle curves; all holding a freshly ground nutty roast of news-reading goodness…I need this mug to start mornings.

The previous mug of choice was a leftover promo piece from the International Plowing Match when it was held in Peterborough in 2006. Not sure what about it resonated — tractor pulls &tc are not quite – if you will – my cup of tea. But I was lovingly stuck on it for almost two years!

Is there a favourite mug that plays an important role in your morning beverage routine?

Via the Accidental Hermit blog,

It took me a long time to realize that one of the most important aspects of commuting is the desire to have no kind of adventure whatsoever. (Link, link to article)

Now, he lives a fairly oil-independent, off the grid lifestyle, so introducing any obstacles beyond the basic work of living is understandably undesirable. And maybe my life is a little boring, but part of what I enjoy about getting around outside of the car is the excitement of being a part of the world. Maybe our sense of ‘adventure’ is different: I certainly don’t vie for extreme speed, hairpin turns or danger. But I do feel like most trips are wonderful, important and fun. That’s an adventure, right?

Certainly many folks feel like getting out on a bike is adventurous. Can I tell you a secret? In the four or so years I’ve been riding confidently, my sense of danger and adventure has shifted completely. Being on the bike feels at home, relaxing, simple and good. But whenever I drive or, worse, am a passenger in a car, I get really anxious for my safety. The speed which we take for granted (–which I took for granted! I used to commuted on the 401, and have owned two cars!) seems so unbelievably fast, so much metal careening around. Are our bodies really prepared to react at that speed? Highway infrastructure – signs, lane markings, spacing, etc) is all greatly enlarged so as to create the illusion of slower travel.

Anyway, it’s your thought for Tuesday. Have a great day.

« Older entries