Little Wheels

Little wheels...

Have great power...

That Little Thing Between My Legs

I fancy riding home from work one day and being stopped by an attractive young lady (blonde) who boldly inquires, "what's that little thing between your legs?".

I would nonchalantly reply, "What - this - oh - it's my folding bike!". Then I would proceed to whip it out from under me and deftly fold and unfold it to demonstrate that not only is it rigid enough to ride, but flexible enough to bend. After that, I would stand there silently and let her admire it up close and personal. Then at just the moment that I saw the glint of lust twinkle in her eyes, I would drop the pick-up line of all pick-up lines, "would you like to ride it?".

Cycling Seattle - Day 3

My conference ended around 4:00 PM and I ventured back to my room, looked out my window and got the first glimpse of the day. To my surprise and utter joy, the sky was clear and the sun was shining bright. Without a moment to lose I ripped of my business attire and donned my cycling gear. I grabbed my bike and headed outdoors.

Earlier I studied the Seattle Bike Map and discovered what looked like a good long trail in the Northeast part of the city. It was gonna be a bit tricky to get there so I scribbled a few directions on a scrap of paper and tucked it in my jersey.

I rode once again down to the waterfront, hopped on the Elliot Bay Trail, took the Ballard Bridge across the Salmon Bay and soon found myself on the Burke-Gilman Trail.  I was not alone.  The trail was teeming with activity.  There were tons of people walking, lounging under trees, sitting in the sun, on park benches, kayaking in the adjacent Lake Washington Ship Channel, rowing teams out practicing and bikes - my goodness - there were bikes of all descriptions, ridden by all manner of mankind.  There were so many bikes, going in different directions and traveling at different speeds that I really had to pay close attention to what was ahead and behind.  I was in my first ever, bicycle rush hour and loving every second of it.

I rode this trail for as long as time would permit me, but not nearly as long as I really wanted.

On my way back, I rounded a sharp curve in the trail and was struck with awe by what I saw...

The mountain that had alluded me since I've been in Seattle.  The mountain that I rode in a car 100 miles to see, but never saw.  There she was - all white and majestic - dwarfing everything in the city.  To think - she was only a bike ride away!!

Cycling Seattle - Day 1

I arrived in Seattle in the early afternoon on Saturday. I took the light rail from the airport to the downtown area. I exited the light rail station and was faced with a 3 block walk uphill to the motel. This proved to be a bit of a task hauling more than 70 lbs of luggage, including my Bike Friday, safely tucked away in the Samsonite F'lite 30 suitcase.

My first order of business was to unpack the bike and ready her for riding. However, not being familiar with Seattle and having never actually ridden in a big city, I decided to take a walk and do a little recon. The traffic was bumper to bumper and I have to admit I was more than a bit intimidated. I decided to skip riding on this first day and just explore the city on foot.

The next morning, I was up early and out for a ride.  It was cold and a light rain was falling.  I rode down to the waterfront...

I rode North from there and found a bike path.  Which, by the way, is not hard to do in Seattle. 

That path was near the space needle, so I took a little detour into town to get a closer look...

Making my way back to the bike path, I continued riding it which took me around a commercial fishing yard, through a rail yard and past a marina until it finally ended with a spectacular view across and up the Puget Sound...

Turning around, I made my way back to the downtown area.  By this time the city had awakened and was bustling with activity.  I spent some time riding and exploring downtown Seattle.  I wandered through the Pike Place Market and found the original Starbucks...

After half a day a riding. It was time to make my way back to motel, the only thing that stood between the motel and I was 7 blocks of a nut-buster climb...

This was the first time in my life that I was actually praying to miss the lights, so that I could take a little break and catch my breath.  It was also the first time in my life that every light turned green just as I reached it.  Cute God - real cute!

I finally made it back to the motel and hung my clothes out to dry.  Sitting on the edge of my bed, I was a bit tired, but felt good. I was glad that earlier that morning, when faced with the cold and the rain, I resisted the urge to turn around and head back to my room. I was cold and I got wet, but I had an awesome ride, through an amazing city.

Was It Worth It?

I recently posted about taking my Bike Friday with me on a business trip. This was the first time in the two years that I've owned that bike that I actually packed it in a suitcase and flew with it. While bringing my bike along provides me the opportunity to ride in places I would not otherwise have the opportunity to ride, it also comes with some degree of sacrifice. I had to take the time to pack and unpack it. I had to hassle with wheeling it around, checking it, waiting at baggage claim to pick it up and loading and unloading it into the rental car. I had to pay baggage fees of $25 each way. Finally, and most significant of all, my flexibility in making alternate travel arrangements (due to flight delays) was severely hampered by the fact that I had to worry about the whereabouts of a bicycle.

All that being said, the burning question is, "were all the sacrifices worth it?".  I wrestled with the answer to that question up until the afternoon of the third day of my trip. I was within the first mile of my first ride.  All debate ceased. All doubt was erased. The answer was absolutely clear - a resounding "YES!".

For two hours, I rode along the beaches of the Gulf of Mexico. The skies were clear. The winds were mild. The temperature a comfortable 75 F in the middle of March.

I crossed over the new Highway 90 bridge from Biloxi, MS to Ocean Springs, MS...

The old bridge was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina...

I happened upon a bike route...

It wound along the beach...

In front of quaint beach cottages...

Around inlets lined with shrimp boats...

Through the woods...

Along alligator ponds...

Was it worth it? You bet!!!

Checked Luggage

Over the last few years, I've condensed my packing for airline travel. It doesn't matter if I'm traveling for a single overnighter or an entire week, I get everything I need in a small duffel bag. 

No roller bags, no computer bags, just a small bag I can sling over my shoulder. I don't have to bother with luggage claim because I can carry this little bag on board. I don't worry about whether there will be space in the overhead bins, cause this small bag fits easily under the seat in front of me.

All that being said, today I flew with two bags.

One, my small duffel carrying my clothes, toiletries and electronics.

The other, a Samsonite F'lite 30 carrying...

A Wus I Am Not

We had major snow storm that started the evening of Christmas day and over the course of the next 24 hours deposited more than 12" of snow. As a result, we've been snow bound over the last few days and I was a bit stir crazy. To get some exercise, I ventured into my garage and was resigned to the fate of yet another ride on this...

As I stood there brooding over the fate that awaited me for the next hour, I heard a a quiet, almost indistinct voice behind me utter these words...

"don't be a wuss!"

I spun around to ascertain the source of such an accusation. This was what I beheld...

We eyed one another conspicuously for a moment and then I moseyed over to my gear and donned my helmet and gloves.

For the most part, the roads were clear...


...but there were a not too small number of patches of slush/ice which either necessitated slowing down and proceeding with caution or where it was I'll advised to ride at all...


I pushed on and ended up getting in a couple hours of good riding. I didn't break any speed records, but the scenery was breathtaking...


I even had a fan along the way, cheering me on...

Cades Cove by Bike

On vacation recently, I had the opportunity to ride the 11 mile loop around Cades Cove. If you ever find yourself in this area of Tennessee and your considering visiting this park, trust me - riding a bicycle is the ONLY WAY TO GO!!
That is unless you enjoy cruising along at 3 mph - on a one lane road - stuck in a mile long convoy of cars that comes to stop every time one of the passengers spots a "blankety-blank" deer or turkey.On a bike, you can cruise along at your own speed, which is far quicker than the cars, and when the traffic grinds to a halt, you simply pull to the side and go around. On a bike, you can spend less time frustratingly staring at the bumper of the car in front of you and more time focusing on the beauty that surrounds you.

Bike Sign

On a ride recently, I happened upon the most unusual and entertaining bike sign that I've ever seen.
Ignoring the warning - I continued down the road - on my bike.

At the bottom of the "treacherous hill", I concluded that either I am an exceptionally skilled and gifted bike handler or that sign was intended for the non-cyclist.

A Bike Stowaway

My Wife and I recently returned from a 9 day camping trip that took us through North Carolina, Tennessee and Virginia.

This trip was not a cycling holiday. In fact, my wife was opposed to the whole idea of me bringing a bike, so while she wasn't looking, I folded the Bike Friday and stuffed it under the bunk in hopes that she wouldn't notice.

I was too pleased with my resourcefulness to stop and think about the logistics of actually getting it out and taking it for a ride without my wife noticing. However, that was a problem for tomorrow and I don't usually get in the habit of thinking that far ahead. Anyway, I did have a plan in the event she did catch me. I would simply deflect the impending attack by blaming my good friend Steve, who planted the idea in my head in the first place.

Paul and His Magic Rain Suit

We've had a particularly wet Fall this year in Virginia. I finally grew tired of the wet weather keeping me from riding to work, so I broke down and purchased my first ever cycling rain gear.

After much research, I decided upon Shower Pass rain gear. Shower Pass is out of Portland, OR and I figured if anyone knows how to make good rain gear, it would be folks living in the Pacific Northwest. So far I am happy to report that I have not been disappointed with my purchase.However, over the last month or so since I bought the gear, I have learned something special about it that is not advertised on Shower Pass' web site. Not only is this gear water proof, it also has special magical powers to completely and utterly stop rain. I'm not talking about simply stopping the rain from reaching my skin, I mean it stops the rain from falling from the sky.

I have only had two opportunities to use my new rain gear. In both instances:
- the Weather Channel showed a plethora of rain.
- the weather map showed that my immediate vicinity was completely engulfed in rain.
- the weather forecast was calling for a 100% chance of rain.
- when I looked outside, it was a veritable deluge.

Yet - in both instances - the moment I donned my new gear and excitedly shuffled outside to brave the elements - the rain stopped! It didn't just stop for a minute. I mean not a single drop of rain fell for my entire commute. Yet, the moment I arrived at my destination, took off my gear and walked to the window in my office, the rain was falling once again in solid sheets.

Go figure!

$&#@!* CARS!!!!! - #3

Yesterday as I rode home I had another close encounter with cars (that's plural). When you commute to work these kind of encounters are unfortunately, inevitable and too frequent. It is possible to minimize these encounters by riding carefully, obeying the law, signaling your intentions and carefully choosing your route. However, as this story will demonstrate, despite your best intentions and your meticulous planning, --it happens.

I was riding slowly (10 mph) through the neighborhoods. It was still light out, but the sun had set and darkness was quickly descending. I was less than a mile from home as I came upon a small intersection and noticed two cars, in succession, were approaching from a side street on my right. With my superior cognitive skills, I immediately ascertained that we would all reach the intersection at the exact same time. I clearly had the right of way, but instinctively began to lightly touch the brakes until I made eye contact with the older gentleman that was driving and was certain he saw me. We never made eye contact and sure enough, he pulled out right in front of me. I hit the brakes to keep from T-boning him and that was when he noticed me, flinched and kept going. I simply turned my palm skyward and shrugged my shoulders as if to say "hello - open your eyes - pay attention". I wasn't angry, because in his defense, it was starting to get dark, the streetlights had just fired up and I should have probably switched on my front light. Recognizing my culpability, I handled the encounter in a cool, calm and collective manner.

It was the second car, immediately behind the first that really caught me off guard. I was still recovering from the aforementioned near miss, when I looked over and made contact with the young lady driving the second car. I expected to receive a knowing and sympathetic glance from her relative to the obtuseness of that first driver and my superior bike handling skills. She smiled kindly and then pulled out right in front of me!!!! I was shocked and appalled. She saw me. She made eye contact. She smiled. She knew she had a stop sign. She knew I had the right of way. She witnessed me almost getting smashed by the first car. YET - despite that plethora of information - SHE PULLED OUT RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!!!!!!! Needless to say, my reaction to this sweet, young lady was not nearly as innocuous as that of the first encounter.

After swerving to miss the second car, I turned around and watched them both drive away. I turned back towards home, reached down, turned on my lights and rode on.

A Dichotomy of Commutes

My commutes to and from work yesterday could not have been any more different.

Yesterday morning, I donned my new Showers Pass rain gear. The sky was filled with dark clouds, the roads were wet and slick, the rain fell relentlessly and the wind blew a gale across the James River.

Yesterday evening, I tucked my rain gear in my bag and rolled up my sleeves. The sky was clear as a bell from horizon to horizon - setting up a perfect backdrop for a beautiful sunset. The temperature was in the low 70s, the roads were nice and dry and the wind blew softly across the James River.

Note that I said the commutes could not have been any more different, but I refrained from labeling one as more preferable than the other. The simple fact of the matter is, I enjoyed them both equally for what they were. I believe that is but another advantage of commuting by bike.

In a car, one is isolated from the whims of mother nature. In a car, one deals with the elements by the turning of a knob or throwing of a switch.

On the other hand, when you ride a bike, you are directly exposed to those elements, they literally smack you in the face. There is no escaping them. You are forced to contend with them each and every pedal stroke.

On the surface, it would be easy to conclude that having to contend with the heat or cold, wind and rain, is but a hassle. However, from a bicycle seat, one learns to not only accept them as a part of life, but you get to know their intricacies and grow to appreciate them as well.

PS - The Showers Pass gear worked like charm. I stayed nice and dry and the ventilation was just enough to keep the perspiration to a minimum.

A Ride Down Memory Lane

Last month I drove home to Cameron, LA to help take care of my Mom who was scheduled to have surgery. I got there a few days before the surgery and on one of those days, I found time to get the Bike Friday out and go for a little spin.

It was strange pulling out of our street onto the main highway, heading into town. It was strange because in all the time I was growing up and all the miles I logged in riding my bike, I never ventured outside of our neighborhood. I wouldn't dream of pulling out on the "Highway" with all the traffic. From my parents driveway to the main road is a whopping 0.2 (2/10) miles. Today, that distance seems scarcely worth jumping on the bike, but the funny thing is, when I was a kid, I thought it an epic journey. As I stopped at the end of my street to check for traffic, I held a certain level of apprehension at pushing the boundary of my childhood and pedaling onto the "Highway". As it turns out, I traversed the 1 mile stretch of "Highway" into town and was passed by a grand total of 2 cars.

Upon reaching town safely, I got to thinking. I wonder how many things in my life today I've distorted in mind and made bigger and more important than what they really are? Will I look back on this stage of my life in 20 years and scoff at the trivialness of these burdens that I currently bare?

Anyway, once I got to town, I began a ride down memory lane. I rode past the remains of Bolo's Shrimp Shop where I worked as a teenager, unloading boats and icing down there cargo.

I rode past where my Dad use to dock his shrimp boat.I watched crew boats as they headed toward the Gulf of Mexico and remembered some of my rides on similar boats. More often than not they involved leaning over the rails chucking my cookies. I never did have what you call sea legs.I rode to the Jetties, where I occasionally came to fish, and looked out over the Gulf.I rode over to the "Ferry" where my Paran was the "Diesel Mechanic" for so many years.I rode past all kinds of places in town or more accurately stated, places that use to be in town.
- The ice house with the huge Mural welcoming visitors.
- Bailey's shrimp house where we use to buy beer.
- The fire station where as boy scouts we would slide down the brass pole.
- The barber shop where mom use to take us to have our hair buzzed.
- Cameron Food Market where every time we went mom would buy us our favorite cereal.

The list goes on, but I don't have pics to share. Thanks to Hurricane Rita, these places are either gone or in ruins. They've all been replaced with the tell tale signs of a town struggling to rebuild and survive. I opted not to take pictures of this struggle, partially out of respect for the proud inhabitants of Cameron and quite frankly because the memories are painful enough without the poignant reminder of pictures.

If in the event, you harbor any doubt that this ride actually ever occurred, I am confident that this last picture will erase all it.You know you're riding in South LA when you count alligator among the road kill!