People sometimes remark to me that they're a bit taken aback by the violent reaction from the cycling community, or any one individual on a bike, when there is any sort of altercation between a bike and a car.
http://www.kansascity.com/news/breaking_news/story/894806.html
Really!?!?
Monday, November 17, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
News Flash
The American auto industry is extremely flat footed! Frankly, I'm pretty amused that part of the dead weight pulling GM down is Hummer. I mean, if you can't sell Hummers, that's a problem. Remember the early Nineties when people were looking askance at 'rice burning cars'? All of this American Hubris is a fascinating thing to watch.
I'm sure this bodes nothing well for our distraught American economy, but every house of cards comes down eventually.
I noticed that gas is $2.19 a gallon on my ride to work today, so you can't buy a Hummer, but you can fill one with gas again. All those people hopin' an prayin' for gas to come down from 4 bucks got what they asked for, it just came on the heels of what may yet turn into GDII. My ride to work cost me about $1e-10, so I still feel pretty good about the cost ratio of riding my bike vs driving a Hummer. Maybe GM and Ford can melt down all those huge trucks to supply the bike industry with raw materials so Surly doesn't have to raise their still quite reasonable prices just because the cost of steel is rising.
I'm sure this bodes nothing well for our distraught American economy, but every house of cards comes down eventually.
I noticed that gas is $2.19 a gallon on my ride to work today, so you can't buy a Hummer, but you can fill one with gas again. All those people hopin' an prayin' for gas to come down from 4 bucks got what they asked for, it just came on the heels of what may yet turn into GDII. My ride to work cost me about $1e-10, so I still feel pretty good about the cost ratio of riding my bike vs driving a Hummer. Maybe GM and Ford can melt down all those huge trucks to supply the bike industry with raw materials so Surly doesn't have to raise their still quite reasonable prices just because the cost of steel is rising.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Perfect
There are a few brief windows between seasons where you get an absolutely perfect temperature for a morning ride. Today was such a day. Soon it'll be cold, and icy, and after that wet, and slushy, then raining constantly, and ultimately summer will reappear and getting to work will entail a lot of sweating. I've got all sorts of special little gear bits and clothes to deal with all those varied environmental fluctuations, and I enjoy aspects of all those types of conditions and the challenges and special skills they present and require.
But today is clear, cool, beautiful. Today's ride was perfect.
But today is clear, cool, beautiful. Today's ride was perfect.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Why?
Why do this? Why tackle physically demanding sections? Why do a seven hour ride? Why do a 60 mile fixed gear race in a hail storm and laugh through most of it? Why switch to riding a single speed mountain bike, and spend 90% of your rides so far beyond your anaerobic threshold that you end every ride so weak you nearly pass out? Why put yourself through physically torturing situations on a daily or weekly business?
It's not just that it feels good to be done with a long ride, it's more than that. We actually enjoy suffering in the moment we're pushing ourselves at the limits of our endurance. We like that feeling that we're about to explode and then reaching down to push a little harder. Not all addicts are cyclists, but clearly all cyclists are addicts of one sort or another. What the hell is wrong with us?
I'm not saying I like it when I'm hurting, but I seem to continue to throw myself into situations that I know are going to be physically and emotionally demanding and midway through I'm gonna wonder why I did it in the first place...but I keep riding, and when I'm the most exhausted is when I feel the need to push myself the hardest, and then it's over, and I can't wait to do it again. Do we REALLY like something about pain? Does that make any sense?
I know there are a lot of other things to a ride than pain and suffering, but that's a big part, and I kind of doubt we'd like it so much were it not for that fact.
I wouldn't call myself a masochist, but I seem to seek out things I know are going to hurt.
Whatever...
It's not just that it feels good to be done with a long ride, it's more than that. We actually enjoy suffering in the moment we're pushing ourselves at the limits of our endurance. We like that feeling that we're about to explode and then reaching down to push a little harder. Not all addicts are cyclists, but clearly all cyclists are addicts of one sort or another. What the hell is wrong with us?
I'm not saying I like it when I'm hurting, but I seem to continue to throw myself into situations that I know are going to be physically and emotionally demanding and midway through I'm gonna wonder why I did it in the first place...but I keep riding, and when I'm the most exhausted is when I feel the need to push myself the hardest, and then it's over, and I can't wait to do it again. Do we REALLY like something about pain? Does that make any sense?
I know there are a lot of other things to a ride than pain and suffering, but that's a big part, and I kind of doubt we'd like it so much were it not for that fact.
I wouldn't call myself a masochist, but I seem to seek out things I know are going to hurt.
Whatever...
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Race of the Dead.
The cats over at The Fix have another race in the works for this weekend. This one is gonna go down in the dark so bring yer lights. Be at Bogert park at five thirty on Saturday 10/25. Oh, and wear a costume people...
See you there!
Update: There's going to be a "Critical Mass" centering around Bogert about the same time. Be sure and bring your withering looks.
See you there!
Update: There's going to be a "Critical Mass" centering around Bogert about the same time. Be sure and bring your withering looks.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Worst case scenario...Part 3...The lake
For parts one and two, look here and here.
Ten minutes of climbing after the penultimate stop, with snowflakes alighting around me like tangible benevolence from above, the terrain levels out. We've arrived in an alpine basin at over nine thousand feet above sea level. I roll up to a stop near the rest of the group. 'There's Hyalite peak' states one of us. I shut my lights off, it's pitch black, then my eyes adjust to the indirect starlight mostly obscured by clouds. There, outlined against the sky I see the sharp outline of Hyalite Peak, it's not the most majestic mountain in the world, but I'm still standing at its base in the middle of the night. We marvel for a time, but all of us are feeling anxious about getting back down to the trail head, it's been a tough night, and we've got a wicked, gnarly, decent through a dark snow filled night.
Heading back down the trail is mixture of fun and extreme anxiety, the switchbacks at the top are some of the steepest I know of. To my left is a sharp drop, and under my tires is a trail basically carved out of scree. I'm wet, cold, tired. Carving through each switchback, I giggle with glee. The immediacy of threading through never-ending rock gardens never dulls. I had started this ride with five weeks off from real riding, now I was relying on instinct alone as my skills had lost a step or two to say the least. The trail is loose and every move feels like a chance to tumble. Onward through the darkness surrounded by my personal LED produced halo, I advance cautiously, and recklessly, dichotomy is the theme on this night, maybe also the theme for my life at this point. Speed is a relative quantity on a mountain bike, on a night ride every single thing you come across is immediate, and you must react with presence of mind honed from years of experience. If you've never done a night ride, you should.
We finally make it back to the car. Twelve miles are behind me...and now after well over a month, I know I've got some real rides in my near future. The dark, snowy, wet, cold, rocky, technical ride was perfect. Everything went wrong, and that was exactly what I needed to greet every single ride that has come since without a hint of hesitation. I faced it all, if it had been less tasking, I would have gained far less.
The worst case scenario was the only thing that could have brought me back.
Ten minutes of climbing after the penultimate stop, with snowflakes alighting around me like tangible benevolence from above, the terrain levels out. We've arrived in an alpine basin at over nine thousand feet above sea level. I roll up to a stop near the rest of the group. 'There's Hyalite peak' states one of us. I shut my lights off, it's pitch black, then my eyes adjust to the indirect starlight mostly obscured by clouds. There, outlined against the sky I see the sharp outline of Hyalite Peak, it's not the most majestic mountain in the world, but I'm still standing at its base in the middle of the night. We marvel for a time, but all of us are feeling anxious about getting back down to the trail head, it's been a tough night, and we've got a wicked, gnarly, decent through a dark snow filled night.
Heading back down the trail is mixture of fun and extreme anxiety, the switchbacks at the top are some of the steepest I know of. To my left is a sharp drop, and under my tires is a trail basically carved out of scree. I'm wet, cold, tired. Carving through each switchback, I giggle with glee. The immediacy of threading through never-ending rock gardens never dulls. I had started this ride with five weeks off from real riding, now I was relying on instinct alone as my skills had lost a step or two to say the least. The trail is loose and every move feels like a chance to tumble. Onward through the darkness surrounded by my personal LED produced halo, I advance cautiously, and recklessly, dichotomy is the theme on this night, maybe also the theme for my life at this point. Speed is a relative quantity on a mountain bike, on a night ride every single thing you come across is immediate, and you must react with presence of mind honed from years of experience. If you've never done a night ride, you should.
We finally make it back to the car. Twelve miles are behind me...and now after well over a month, I know I've got some real rides in my near future. The dark, snowy, wet, cold, rocky, technical ride was perfect. Everything went wrong, and that was exactly what I needed to greet every single ride that has come since without a hint of hesitation. I faced it all, if it had been less tasking, I would have gained far less.
The worst case scenario was the only thing that could have brought me back.
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