Taking the lane

I highly recommend this piece, The Bicycle Driver, by David Smith.

It basically argues that bike lanes are generally dangerous, and that it's usually much safer to take the lane. I've found this to be true, for all the reasons David gives, and one more: you can't always trust drivers to safely judge distances.

That seems to be a major consideration that gets ignored. 2 kinds of drivers really scare me. The first are soccer moms because they're always in a rush, don't pay attention, and are bad at gauging distances, in part because of the huge vans/SUVs they drive. The second are the elderly with bad eyesight who probably shouldn't even be driving in the first place. These drivers are truly dangerous, not because they're aggressive, but because they're clueless.

You're more likely to be seen by these drivers if you're riding smack in the middle of the road. If they misjudge passing distance, you can try to swing to the right quickly. If you're on the bike lane, these drivers almost always pass WAY too close for comfort.

Of course, the usual assholes piss me off too. This morning I rode to school, taking the center of the lane on a two-way street, one lane each plus a middle turning lane. I usually do this, and people pass without a problem using the middle lane. At some point, the middle lane turns into a concrete island, then the road widens into 2 lanes for vehicles. Some guy in a shiny new VW Jetta waited until JUST reaching the island to fucking honk at me. I should have just stayed in the lane for the 5 seconds it would have taken to get to the wider road, but I swung to the right instead. The VW zipped by, along with 2 other cars. The last was a large van that passed inches from my head, and nearly squashed me against the parked cars.

I felt angry at first for the threat to my safety. Then I started to sorry for that driver. I mean, imagine a kind of life where a whole 5 seconds can mean so much to you. 5 seconds! Imagine the stresses and frustrations that you must have, getting to work on time, doing a good job, making the payments on the new car, paying for gas, supporting a family. What powerlessness you must feel in order to honk at a bicyclist to get those precious, precious 5 seconds for yourself. That's probably all he's going to get all day to feel good about himself.

So the more I thought about it, the more I felt, dude, you know what, you can have it.

Sick Sad World

Stumbled across this article, Do-It-Yourself Bike Touring, which was mentioned on a recent bikeforums thread. The article is great. The thread is depressing.

When companies figured out a way to market cycling as a middle class form of recreation, which happened around 30-40 years ago, everyone who doesn't fit the normal, prepackaged images of the cyclist became pariahs. Marketing and consumerism have taken the fun out of biking. And perversely, sport cyclists in their ugly spandex accuse non-comformists of giving cycling "a bad name" because they choose not to purchase the gear, because they improvise as they go.

That's the paradox of modern American consumerism: you are given the illusion of freedom to make choices about your purchases, but the culture actually enforces strict norms about the identity you're buying into.

For this reason, I rarely go on rides with the major bike club here in Seattle. On one occasion, I actually heard someone brag about the $300 cycling glasses he purchased. Fucking unbelievable. For that poor soul, spending money on gear is how he assures himself he is a "real" cyclist, one of the crowd. It's truly sad, not just because of his obvious desperation to belong, but because he's been so brainwashed that he actually can't enjoy cycling without his expensive glasses.

I like to ride my bike. I ride to school, I ride to get places, and I ride for fun. I refuse to wear tights. I take the lane when it's safer than the tiny bike lane. I ignore the mid-life crisis men and women who peddle furiously while glaring at their speedometers. I like to look at all the cool stuff around me when I bike somewhere new. I stop when I want to.

If you're not one of the crowd but you like to ride your bike, drop me an email. Maybe we can ride sometime.

Tips for Using Clipless Pedals

I went clipless: got a pair of Shimano shoes (SH-M121G) with enough recess that you can walk in them okay, and double-sided "campus" pedals (one side SPD, the other flat for regular shoes) from Performance. I've been adjusting to them and experimenting. Here are some tips that I find useful. Some bits come from personal experience; others are repeated frequently on the 'net. Your mileage (haha) may vary.

[edited on 1/30]

1) Make sure to unclip well before coming to a complete stop.

While waiting for tonight's Critical Mass ride to begin, I was noodling around, came to a complete stop, frantically tried to unclip but failed, and fell over. Besides being embarassing, falling over when you're stopped isn't too bad--I didn't even get a scrape. Luckily, I wasn't in traffic. I felt a bit better after subsequently seeing two hipsters with fixies fall over in their toeclips. It happens.

2) To unclip, think of crushing an insect with the ball of your foot.

This helps correct two mistakes I was making: the first one is I've been focusing on twisting my ankle to the outside. This made my ankle feel weird; it can't be good for the muscles and tendons there. I found that concentrating on twisting the ball of my foot, where it makes contact with the pedal, helps a lot. After all, that's what you're trying to twist out of. The ankle will just naturally follow.

The second mistake is a natural tendency to pull up while twisting, since you're trying to get out. Clipless pedals are designed to keep your foot attached while pulling up, so this is a big no-no! Do the opposite: put some pressure down on your foot while twisting.

I imagine a crushing an insect with my shoe, and smooshing its innards into the ground with the ball of my foot. That exact movement seems like the best one for getting out of the pedals.

3) Unclip in a single, swift, snappy motion.

On platforms, you have the flexibility to be halfway off the pedal, "poised" to stop but also to edge your foot back on if necessary. You can be wishy-washy about it. It takes some practice to un-learn this habit with clipless. If you twist your angle very slightly in preparation for unclipping, that actually makes it *harder* to completely unclip.

It helps to avoid being wishy-washy with clipless. Swing the ball of your foot out (see #2 above) deliberately, in a single, fast motion. You're not unclipping so much as "snapping out" of the pedals. To extent the insect metaphor: imagine it's a huge monster of a bug, and you have to squish it in one fast step, or it will get away.

4) The best unclipping positions are about 2:00 and 5:00 (looking at the bike from the drivetrain side).

Those positions are the best for pressing your foot down while twisting. I find that at 6:00 or greater, my foot is already too far back for twisting comfortably--I need to twist my entire leg, which is awkward and difficult. At 5:00-ish, with the knee slightly bent, I can use my knee to help twist, and localize motion to the lower half of my leg.

5) Experiment with twisting inward and outward.

I've read that some people like to twist inward instead of outward. That does work for me and seem to be easier on the ankle, but I find that my foot hits the frame, bottlecage, or crank. So I usually go outward.

6) Start with the lowest tension setting.

There's usually a screw on SPD pedals for adjusting tension. Set it to the lowest when you're beginning; you can adjust them tighter if you need to later on.

7) Keep your cleats and pedals clean, and periodically oil points of contact.

I didn't oil until after several test rides. After putting a drop of Phil's Tenacious Oil on each point of contact on the pedal, the ease of unclipping improved significantly. I've read from numerous sources that gunked-up cleats or pedals are quite dangerous with SPDs, since they can hinder disengaging, so be sure to clean the surfaces periodically too.

8) Clipless doesn't work so great for lots of stop-and-go city riding.

I know lots of folks will disagree, but if you have to stop suddenly, getting out of clipess is quite tricky. With a lot of practice, I imagine it's easier, but I'm a wuss when it comes to riding in traffic and will do anything to prevent accidents. Because I have double-sided pedals, I leave one foot unclipped when riding in heavy traffic, and always tilt to that side when stopping. In the future, I don't think I will use clipless too much on high traffic city streets.

Too Many Bikes

My new year's resolution: no more bikes.

Okay, so I admit, that came after I picked up a 94 or 95 Schwinn Passage on Jan 2. It's got specks of white paint splashed on some of the rear parts and needs a bit of work. The price was reasonable for the condition.

That makes FOUR total bikes I've got right now. That's not a lot compared to some folks, but I have a tiny apartment. One I plan to sell soon, another is a build for my girlfriend. So hopefully it will be down to two in the not-so-distant future.

Another Find

Every old bicycle has a personality.

A few weeks ago, I sold my Fuji League. Even though I was sad to see it go, I couldn't explain exactly what it was about it I disliked. It was unbelievably light and zippy for vintage steel. And the fit was a perfect 54cm ctc. What bothered me about it was something that I figured out just the other day...

... after I picked up a 1984 Centurion Sport DLX for $25. Okay, I really shouldn't have. But it wasn't a ton of money, and it looked so fornlorn, sitting in the thrift store. The paint was in terrific shape--I'm guessing its original owner probably rode it just a few times. There was some dirt and also some pitting in the chromed parts, but otherwise the components looked decent.

When I got it home and did some research online, I discovered, to my dismay, that it was a lower end model: straight gauge cromoly and a whopping 28 lbs stock (didn't feel that heavy in the store!). Oh well, I thought, let me clean it up and at least see how it rides. Surprisingly, it felt pretty good. Then I took an old 700c wheelset I'd rebuilt with new spokes and slapped it on. Hmm, not bad at all. And much lighter.

That's when it hit me: the Fuji was fast, but it felt like the frame was almost TOO light--like it would fly apart! (I'm 150 lbs, not at all heavy.) In contrast, the heavier, lower quality Centurion frame has a sturdy, more balanced feel to it. The geometries are also probably different, I think. The Fuji was a racing bike; the Centurion is a "sport tourer."

So I think I'll keep the Centurion. Many of the components are steel. I think if I poke around at the local shop for some old alloy parts, I could lighten it up a bit, and make it into a really fun, zippy little thing.

Critical Mass

I rode Critical Mass today. It was my second time.

People do CM for lots of different reasons. For me, it's a cultural and political form of protest, a way to make a statement in truly a palpable way.

The standard way to "get heard" today about a political issue is to hold a demonstration and rally. The results are usually pitiful: people who show up to rallies aren't the ones who need to be persuaded; mass media coverage of these events can be very biased, thus harming the effort; the speeches bore the crowds; there's a lot of talk but very little action taken. The anti-war movement is the perfect example of lots of vocal dissent with few concrete results. The people who *have* become anti-war changed their minds because of things like government corruption and ineptitude, the use of torture, and the endlessness of it all... NOT because they saw a crowd of people carrying signs in the street and chanting slogans.

Critical Mass is not just about being heard. It's about doing. When bikes take to the streets, asserting their right to *be* traffic and to occupy road lanes, they are doing something. They don't simply make drivers and pedestrians "aware" of bikes, like an inert billboard advertising a message that one can take or leave. No... CM *forces* people's actual behaviors to change. Drivers must physically slow down or stop. They must pay attention to avoid an accident. The experience of being on the road is altered by CM.

It's also about working together. With no organized leader or authority, how does the ride stay together as an effective "mass"? The answer is, it doesn't always. Some people at the head of the pack ride too fast sometimes and the mass dissolves, along with its power to occupy the road. The routes taken are sometimes a little crazy. People have to voluntarily stand guard to halt cross traffic at intersections when the mass is riding through red lights. Not everything works perfectly all the time, but the fact that it does manage to work at all, a good deal of the time, speaks to the willingness of the bikers to work together, create, and problem-solve in a highly improvisational way. Amazing things are possible without hierarchies and structures.

These are powerful things.

Tonight, a woman in a car tapped a biker with her front bumper. Then she got out of the car and started screaming at him at the top of her lungs. There's always a few irate drivers at every CM, but she was totally over the top... clearly, she was having an extremely bad day. "PEOPLE NEED TO GET THINGS DONE," she yelled, shaking her fist at the biker. She was almost in tears. "MAY. YOU. FUCKING. DIE!" she shouted.

I felt really bad for her. I don't know what kinds of personal things she was dealing with that made her lose it on a Friday night. What's really tragic is that CM was just the straw that broke the camel's back... and what a HUGE back that must be. She probably puts up with so much in her life that she either doesn't or can't criticize. Obviously she was willing to deal with rush hour traffic, since she was driving in it. She probably had troubles with her job, her family, her friends... but those were facts of life she had to live with. Now, a bunch of bikers taking maybe a minute off her ride? That was too much. It pushed her over the edge. In her mind, I'm guessing, it was too absurd, too extraordinary, too frivolous for a crowd of bicyclists to enjoy a ride once a month. After all, people need to get things done.

That made me really sad for her.

The Morning After

Sold the Shogun last night on craigslist. The guy was looking for something for his girlfriend, which was very cool, and I think my price was fair. Didn't lose too much money on it--justified in my head by the fact that I learned a lot as I fixed it up. So I feel good about the whole thing. Although this morning I'm having that sad, empty feeling... the bike was so beautiful...

Onward to better-fitting projects!