Monthly Archives: September 2014

And the great bike hunt continues

Are you tired of reading about this?  If you said, “Yes,” I completely understand, because I’m tired of thinking and writing about it.  But maybe writing will help clear my thoughts (or help someone else who’s bike shopping), so here goes.

On Friday, I visited The Hub and rode two Kona touring bikes, the Sutra and the Rove.  They both have steel frames and disc brakes.  The Rove has SRAM integrated shifters, and the Sutra has bar end shifters.  They felt fairly similar, ride-wise (their geometries are basically identical).  When I lifted each bike, the Sutra felt heavier, due to some heavier-duty, touring components (the Sutra also comes stock with fenders and a rear rack, which contribute some to the weight).

If I was choosing between the two, I’d lean slightly toward the Sutra.  If I buy a bike with bar end shifters (the Sutra or the Surly LHT), I’m going to have the shop swap out the bar end shifters for the Shimano integrated shifters (planning to use those currently on my Kona Jake, assuming they are undamaged, which they appear to be).

I spent a decent bit of time on both Konas on Friday, and, while I have not made an overall bike decision, the time on drop handlebars clarified a feature of the 2010 Kona Jake that I really liked — a second set of brake levers for the “top” position (for a tutorial on possible drop bar hand positions, see Lovely Bicycle’s overview).

It may be mostly the fact that I got used to having those brake levers there on the Jake, but I really, really like having that option.  I feel like I have more stopping power using the brakes on the tops (though, technically, adding the second set of brake levers to the system reduces overall braking power slightly).

So, I’ll also be asking the bike shop to move the bar top brake levers from my old Kona Jake to whatever the heck I finally decide on.

At this point, my gut and/or make-a-decision-and-get-this-over-with feeling is to order a non-disc [brake] Surly Long Haul Trucker from The Hub.  They don’t stock Surly bikes, but, unlike Salsa, they can order Surly bikes.  (But part of me says the LHT is similar enough to the Kona Sutra, and I’m being silly and should just go with the Sutra they have in stock.)

Surly LHT (photo from surlybikes.com)
Surly LHT (photo from surlybikes.com)

But there’s still a little piece of me leaning toward the Salsa Vaya (from non-preferred bike shop), in part because of this review over at The Path Less Pedaled, which talks about it being more responsive and less sluggish than the Surly LHT.  The other feature I like is the sloped top tube.  I’m not sure it will make that much of a difference for most rides, but it would be nice when riding in a skirt or a dress (though I could use BUB or Big Blue for that).  On the other hand, I’m not really sure that I want disc brakes (which come stock on the Vaya, vs. the option for a non-disc LHT).

I should probably revisit the bike shop and ride both the Surly LHT and the Salsa Vaya again, but I’m feeling worn out, and the trip across town, just to do that, again, is not exciting.

If money were no object (and I lived in the U.K. and could go to the shop in person), Thorn bicycles seem pretty interesting.  In the U.S., Rivendell Bicycle Works has some interesting options (again, not realistic on my current bike buying budget).

It’s frustrating because I don’t feel excited about anything.  I realized over the weekend that this point in our longtail search, the trying to make a decision, wasn’t particularly fun or exciting either.  The excitement and anticipation came after we’d made a decision, while we were waiting for the bike to arrive.  Then, once Big Blue arrived, riding was fun.  I’m just ready for the fun part here.

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Update: A friend shared this very appropriate TED Talk link.  “Paralysis” very accurately describes what I’m feeling right now regarding this issue.

Bicycle shopping woes

It’s been a month since Baby Jake’s demise, and I have yet to settle on a replacement.  After seeking a bit of input, I decided that some kind of touring bike might make a pretty decent commuter.  I was considering the Surly Long Haul Trucker or the Kona Sutra, when I wrote this post, and Rebecca brought the Salsa Vaya to my attention.

On September 3rd, I visited a couple of bike shops and returned home to post the following:

Gah — my frustration with inventory at StL bike shops continues! Visited The Hub and Maplewood Bicycles this morning. Both shops were very happy to ORDER a Surly LHT (or a Kona Sutra) for me, but neither stocked any touring bikes, so I left without test riding anything 😦

It’s a a chicken and egg problem: the shops don’t want to stock bikes that might not sell, but it’s pretty darn hard to sell a bike that you don’t stock!

Two days later, after a phone call to confirm inventory, I visited Big Shark:

Rode a Salsa Vaya [2] and a Surly LHT, and saw a Kona Sutra (two in stock, one too little, one too big for me to ride), at Big Shark this morning.

I felt a little guilty, knowing I would likely order my new bike through my preferred bike shop, and not Big Shark, but I needed to get my hands on these bikes somewhere.  I left with the information that if I wanted the Vaya, I’d have to wait until late September/early October, when the 2015 models came in.

Stock image from salsacycles.com
2015 Salsa Vaya 3 (stock image from salsacycles.com)

I was rather decided on the Salsa Vaya 3, when a local bikey contact mentioned that he was interested in selling his year-old Novara Randonee touring bike, fully outfitted with fenders and rear rack.

It just happened to be my size, so we met for me to test ride it on a Saturday morning (9/6).  I liked how it rode and even felt fairly comfortable with the bar-end shifters.  While a used bike would not have the advantage of life-time free tune-ups that come with a new LBS purchase, the savings over new ($800-$900, in this case) were substantial and attractive.

I told the seller that I would get back to him with a decision in 24 hours.  At that point, he’d had no other contacts about the bike (it was posted on CL).  I also thought I communicated that if he received an offer before I contacted him, and I needed to decide sooner, to please let me know.

I’d pretty much made up my mind that I was going to take the “pre-loved” Novara, and I was already picturing my new ride, and really looking forward to it, especially since I’d discovered that riding BUB was a literal pain in the neck (and upper back and shoulders).

Six hours later, the bike was sold.  To another buyer.  Whomp, whomp, whomp.

So, back to the Salsa Vaya.  My next step was checking to see if The Hub could order the Salsa Vaya.  I was fairly confident they could, since I already knew they could order a Surly LHT (even though they don’t stock Surly bicycles).

After waiting for a week, I got the bad news — Salsa bicycle sales are restricted to official Salsa dealers.  That meant I could either get my first choice bike OR a [different] bike from my first choice bike shop (The Hub), but not both.  I’ve basically been sitting on this information for ten days, trying to figure out what I’m going to do.

In the meantime, The Hub got a 2015 Kona Sutra in my size, and the co-owner pointed out that they also have a [my size] 2014 Kona Rove in stock (very similar specs and geometry to the Sutra, but with integrated brakes and shifters as opposed to bar-end shifters, which was part of the appeal of the Vaya).  I’m hoping to ride both tomorrow.

2015 Kona Sutra (stock image from konaworld.com)
2015 Kona Sutra (stock image from konaworld.com)

Both of these Kona bikes are a bit more like a cyclocross bike than a touring bike (comparing geometries to the Vaya and the Surly LHT), and, since I’d kind of settled on a touring bike, I’m not sure how I feel about that.  On the other hand, I was pretty happy and comfortable on a ‘cross bike (Baby Jake) for quite awhile, so maybe it’s not a big deal.

In the meantime, I’m minimizing time on BUB (despite new tires, a tune-up, and a new chain, cassette, and rear derailleur cable), due to comfort issues, which means I’m riding Big Blue (the longtail), whenever Matthew doesn’t need her to transport G.  But I’m ready for a new primary bike already!!!

Partner bicycling conundrums

When we met, our interest in, and commitment to, biking for transportation was one of the things that Matthew and I shared (along with a love of cooking and eating delicious vegetarian food).  Perhaps because of this shared history, it’s particularly frustrating when bicycling becomes a point of contention in our relationship.  I’m not talking about, “You spend all your free time riding your bike,” kind of contention, though.

In general, we don’t ride our bikes together all that much.  Bike trips to work, or to run errands, are usually solo ventures.  Duo trips are limited to weekend (or rare weeknight) outings, so it took a while for us to notice the problems.

Prior to April 2011, the primary point of contention was that I was riding too close to parked cars.  I understood Matthew’s concern, but I felt uncomfortable riding farther left in the traffic lane.

Enter CyclingSavvy.  We took the basic course together in April 2011, and went on to become instructors two months later.  This course gave me the knowledge, confidence, and skills I needed to get out of the door zone and away from the edge of the roadway for good.

It seemed this would be just what we needed for partner cycling bliss.

We do great on multi-lane roads, usually riding two abreast in the right travel lane, then singling up in spots with on-street parking (or other features that narrow the effective lane).  But we don’t want to always ride on arterial roads, since there are lower-speed, less-trafficked options, nor do these big roads always serve our destinations.

And here’s the thing.  We agree on all the basic principles: 1) follow the rules of movement, 2) practice good communication, 3) never ride within 5 feet of a parked car and you won’t get doored (or startled), 4) never, ever ride up along the right side of a tractor-trailer (or bus, garbage truck, etc.).  Those are just a few examples, but suffice it to say, we agree on most things when it comes to how/where we ride.

But then are the “gray areas,” the judgement calls.  Where, exactly, on a given roadway do I need to be to encourage safe motorist behavior (i.e., discourage unsafe passing)?  When should I actively (or passively) encourage someone to pass me?  When should I passively (or actively) discourage passing?

The answer to all these questions is, “It depends.”  It depends on road design, traffic conditions, weather, and a number of other dynamics.

The main north-south route we ride is a tricky one for these questions.  It’s a street with two-way traffic, and on-street parking on both sides.  Portions of it are too narrow for a center stripe (perhaps just barely wide enough for two cars to eek by each other if there are also parked cars on both sides at a given spot).  Other portions do have a center stripe, creating a narrow lane of travel in each direction.  The blocks are short, with a stop sign at almost every intersection, so it’s difficult for anyone (motorists or bicyclists) to work up much speed.  There are also alleys that exit onto the street in between every intersection, so LOTS of potential turning conflicts.

But it’s a neighborhood street, with low speed limits and relatively little traffic, and it offers an alternative to a traffic sewer (Kingshighway, which we do ride portions of).

We’ve ridden this route for years, and when we’re riding solo, we each navigate this stretch as we see fit.

In general, I move a bit slower on my bicycle (especially when I’m hauling a kiddo), and I tend to look for opportunities to “release” a motorist who ends up behind me, even if it means I need to slow down a bit more to facilitate the pass.

Matthew also practices control and release, but, when on his own, is usually moving a bit faster, meaning less opportunity to release (and perhaps less real need, though there’s still the “Must Pass Bicyclist Syndrome” to deal with).  He also tends to ride MORE than five feet from the parked cars, to discourage unsafe passing by both overtaking and oncoming (because the passable street width is so minimal with on-street parking) motorists.*

I prefer to stay closer to the right as a default position on this stretch (though still at least 5 feet from the parked cars, not riding the edge, not weaving in and out of parked cars, etc.), and use active encouragement/discouragement to communicate with motorists about when it is or is not safe to pass.  (In truth, I may be cheating in a bit on that 5 feet from parked cars along some of these stretches — we may need to bring out the tape measure on this one, to double check both of our perceived vs. actual distances.)*

Yet what we do almost effortlessly alone, with one bicycle, becomes REALLY difficult when we add the other person and that second bicycle.

  • The dynamic changes for Matthew because, in order for us to actually ride together, he’s traveling slower than normal.
  • Instead of time and space to pass one bicyclist (it’s too narrow for us to ride two abreast on the streets in question), overtaking motorists need time to pass two bicyclists.
  • The front rider (usually me, setting the [slow] pace) needs to decide if it’s safe to encourage a pass, but the rear rider needs to communicate with the motorist.
  • On these short blocks, by the time I see a gap, make a decision, and communicate with Matthew, the gap is gone, or we’re at the next stop sign — too late for him to signal the motorist to pass.

So our shared bicycle outings, times where we should be enjoying our common love of bicycle transportation, become fraught with tension, disagreements, and stress.  Instead of feeling good, we arrive at our destinations feeling “yuck,” and, for me, at least, wanting to give Matthew a five minute lead on the way home, just so we don’t have to deal with it.  And wanting to never ride our bikes anywhere together again.

So we’re taking advice.  Do any of you cyclist pairs have suggestions for harmonious partner bicycle travel on roads/in situations like what I describe?  Any tricks for clearly communicating with each other on the road?

*Regarding our roadway position, and where we need to be to get safe passes — in our small sample, it seems there may be some motorist bias based on bicyclist’s sex, i.e., motorists behave better around female cyclists than around male cyclists, so Matthew has to ride differently (i.e., farther left) to get the same passing distance I get when riding a bit farther to the right.

 

Balloons and bicycles, times two

This past weekend was all about hot air balloons.  We kicked things off with a bikey outing on Friday night.  Bikes are the way to access this event.  No getting stuck in traffic; no parking and walking from far away.  We biked from The Hill to Forest Park, through the VIP parking barricades (with a wave and a nod from the guard), and right up to the edge of the balloon field.  We had a rather impressive number of bikes locked together, as you can see in the top photo in Rebecca’s post.

We enjoyed a lovely potluck picnic spread as the sun set and the balloons started to glow behind us.  We forgot our camera, so I’ll let you enjoy Rebecca (linked above) and Mike’s photos.

On Saturday, Matthew finished up at the garden early so we could take Gabriel to the park for the balloon launch.  Similar to last year, we packed a picnic dinner.  Unfortunately, I forgot to pack any toys, a lapse which someone lamented greatly.

Also similar to last year, Sir seemed as interested in the bounce houses as the balloons.  (Sigh.  Three year olds!)

We brought the camera, but I only caught one thing flying this year:

IMG_5821[1]

On the way home, we stopped for gelato.  Gabriel had his very own cone — blueberry and chocolate chip — which he thoroughly enjoyed.

We couldn’t have asked for better weather over the weekend!  Friday’s biking was lovely.  Saturday’s trip was a bit stressful; we’re struggling a bit with the dynamics of riding together (vs. solo riding).  Not a new problem, but one we’re hoping to solve (I may say more about this later), so future bike outings are more enjoyable.

Privilege and rights in our communities and on our roads

A couple of weeks ago, I finally got around to reading Jeremy Dowsett’s post, “What My Bike has Taught Me about White Privilege.”  I’d been seeing links to the post on FB for a week or two, and I resisted clicking.  I had a pretty good idea what his argument would be, and, while I thought he had a point, I also thought the argument was a bit of a stretch.

When I finally got around to reading it, I found a thoughtful, well-written piece.  I particularly enjoyed the way Dowsett looked at the idea of white privilege (emphasis mine):

But privilege talk is not intended to make a moral assessment or a moral claim about the privileged at all. It is about systemic imbalance. It is about injustices that have arisen because of the history of racism that birthed the way things are now. It’s not saying, “You’re a bad person because you’re white.” It’s saying, “The system is skewed in ways that you maybe haven’t realized or had to think about precisely because it’s skewed in YOUR favor.”

As a bicyclist, Dorsett explores this imbalance from a number of angles: access; road conditions; the often unintentional, but potentially quite damaging behavior of “privileged” motorists; and unjust laws.  In the interest of not recapping his entire post here, I’ll let you read it for yourself.

This is not the first time I’ve read or heard bicyclists’ rights being compared to civil rights.  I get the analogy.  Bicyclists are often treated as second class citizens.  Even motorists who don’t have bad intentions don’t really get it, and often behave in ways that endanger us.  (I don’t agree with everything he says — while I share some of his experience, and frustrations, my experience on the bicycle, the story I tell, is often different because of the way I ride.)

Part of where this argument/analogy breaks down for me is that skin color is not something you choose.  It’s something you’re born with.  And everyday, people in this country, people in my city, are treated differently because their skin is darker than mine.

On the other hand, most people who ride bikes are choosing to do so.  Even if you eliminate the recreational riders from that equation, and just look at people who are using bicycles for transportation, for most of them, most of the time, it is still a choice.  They can afford to own and operate a motor vehicle (though the cost of this is not negligible).  For whatever reasons (health, money savings, environmental reasons, etc.), they are choosing to ride a bike.

And it’s not okay to be discriminated against, harassed, or endangered for your transportation choices, but it is also not the same as facing those same challenges and built-in biases because of a physical characteristic you can’t control.  (Also, for bicyclists, these experiences happen when they are on the bicycle; people of color can’t just “get off the bicycle.”)

But what about the people who don’t have much choice about being on a bike?  What about people like Cherokee Schill, a single mother who rides her bike to work every day?  A woman who was first dragged to court, and has now been arrested, because she is using her bike to get to work and support her family?  A person who’s riding her bike so she can save her money for groceries and housing rather than gas and car maintenance?

Schill, 41, said if there were an easier way to get to work, she would take it. Her [car] is not dependable. To be able to afford housing and food for herself and two teenagers, the divorced mother said commuting by bike keeps her household afloat.

“I’m not putting myself here because I think it’s fun or exciting,” Schill said of the commute. “I’m here because I’ve got two kids to feed and a roof to put over their head. … I’ve got to pay rent, pay bills and buy groceries.”

The only route between Ms. Schill’s home and her workplace is a U.S. highway (the article I linked to above makes it clear that she explored other options for getting to work; none of them get her to work in time for her 6am shift).  This is not an interstate, with posted minimum speeds.  The shoulders on the highway are filled with debris (as are most shoulders), not to mention rife with turning conflicts that make “far to the right” a very dangerous place to be.  So Ms. Schill rides in the right traffic lane and practices defensive bicycle driving.

This is a 4-lane road, so when Ms. Schill is operating her bicycle in the right lane, motorists can freely change lanes to pass her in the left lane.  It is that simple.  Might they have to take their foot off the gas pedal and slow down a bit when they approach her?  Yes, just as you would for any slower moving vehicle.  The “delay” this would cause any single person is minimal.

The county prosecutor and law enforcement have chosen to challenge Ms. Schill’s right to operate her bicycle on this road.  Through all the citations and press, Ms. Schill had continued riding, continued going to work and supporting her family, despite harassment from [a select few] motorists and local law enforcement.  Instead of focusing on the people who were threatening and harassing Ms. Schill, with their vehicles, they chose to focus on the “danger” she posed to motorists.  To focus on how she doesn’t belong on that road, because she is slower and smaller.

After reading about Ms. Schill’s conviction last week, and her arrest yesterday, the parallels between the different struggles for rights ring more true than ever.  I will not claim they are identical (nor does Mr. Dowsett, as explained in his follow-up post).  But the similarities, and possible implications, are frightening.

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To learn more, and show your support for Cherokee Schill (and the rights of all bicyclists), check out the “I Support Cherokee Shill” page on FB, as well as the fundraising effort to cover Ms. Schill’s legal costs (she is planning to appeal the initial court ruling against her).