A Roaring Wind

 I first heard it as I regained consciousness from a sound night's sleep.  I thought the nearby Air Force base was flying training runs in the early hours.  It wasn't until I drug myself out of bed and stumbled to the coffee pot that the true source of the sound manifested it's way into my brain.  As the coffee brewed, I leaned against the counter and, in my groggy mind, hoped it would be a tailwind. 

It was still quite dark as I slung a leg over my bike and pushed off for my morning commute.  As I rode through the neighborhoods making my way to the gym, the presence of the wind made itself eerily known.  It was too dark to see it blowing the trees about.  I was sheltered by the houses and could not feel it.  But the sound - oh the sound.  It was veritable roar as it rushed overhead.  It sounded like the echo of an angry giant.  I cringed and pedaled on.  Hoping to escape its notice.

When I left the gym, daylight was starting to dawn.  I stopped a moment to gaze upon the James River and the tempest into which it had been thrown.  In the daylight, I no longer feared it, but instead was simply grateful it was to my back.

Fare De Well Summer

Most people consider Labor Day weekend as marking the end of Summer. The event that I somberly celebrate is much more personal.

The temperature is a pleasant 83 F. The winds are mild and there be not a cloud in the skies.

Let not this weather fool you. It is not a balmy July day. The lack of humidity is proof of that. It's 5:30 in the afternoon and the sun is already low in the skies.

It's the middle of October. Any day now I'll wake up and it will be cold. In a couple weeks, the time will change and it will be dark when I ride to work in the morning and ride home at night.

Today is the perfect day to celebrate one last time my favorite Summer ritual. I stopped at a local convenience store to purchase some liquid refreshment. Rode to my favorite picnic table nestled among the trees at a nearby park.

I sat back and silently replayed the memories if this past Summer. I pondered the long, cold, dark winter that lay ahead. Here I sat between the two. I guess that's what life is. It's lived on the precipice between the past and present, neither of which I can change or control. The only thing I can affect is the here and now. What I choose to do with each moment of the present. For this moment, I choose to open another beer and enjoy the interlude. In a little bit, I'll ride away from this spot and in all likelihood will not return until new leaves begin to bud on the trees around me.

Fare well Summer - until we meet again on the other side of Winter!!

Riding Under The Rainbow

On a recent ride to work, I was privileged to be accompanied by a rainbow that stretched across the Western horizon. I slowed down and kept glancing over my shoulder to admire it. It lasted until just before I pulled up to the bike rack. What a simple treasure. What a beautiful ride.

Hurricane Obstacle

A couple weekends ago, I, along with millions of others along the East Coast, had a hurricane pass overhead dumping tons of rain and packing plenty of wind.  The following Monday, I jumped on my bike like usual and headed to work.  Along my 5 mile route I was thwarted several times by downed trees and power lines. 

I could have turned around and gone back home and jumped in my truck.  However - I have to get to work.  I commute by bike.  I cant let something like a hurricane keep me from what I do - Ride!!  Instead of being frustrated by the obstacles so cruelly thrust in my path, I used it as a good excuse to get to work late and ride a few extra miles. 

A Tender Moment

My commute to work Tuesday morning was what can only be characterized as a "Tender Moment".  The result of sitting on one of these...

the morning after eating 3 of these...

A Hitching Post

I have ranted in the past about the fact that when you are driving an automobile, you are isolated from the world around you. I followed that by waxing philosophically about how riding a bike, you are more a part of the world around you.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I must admit that even on a bike it is possible to migrate to a state of isolation as well. Case in point. I have been riding my current commuting route twice a day for just about every working day over the past 15 years. Just recently, on a typical ride home, I noticed this...

...a hitching post. I could go down the path of trying to surmise the purpose of such a rare device in such an unusual place. As I've said, I've been riding this route for 15 years and I have yet to overtake or be overtaken by a horse. In fact, I've never even seen a horse. So why is there a hitching post on the side of the road? I don't know the answer to that question and the fact of the matter is solving that mystery is not the point of this post.

The real question is, why is there a hitching post on the side of the road AND I'VE NEVER NOTICED IT BEFORE?

It's not like I zoom past it. I'm riding along at a comfortable pace of only 12 mph.

It's not like it's too far from the road. It is right on the side of the road.  It can't be more than 4 or 5 feet from the tip of my handlebars as I ride by.

It's not like it's blocked from view. It's right out there in the open.

If all these things be true, and they are, then how in the world can I pass by this thing more than 2000 times and never see it?

Perhaps bike commuting has more to teach me still.

There is so much more to see, if only I look around.

There is so much more to find, if only I seek.

There is so much more to experience, if only I open myself up.

I'm not likely to pass this hitching post again without taking notice, and when I do, it will serve as a reminder of this invaluable lesson.

A Wet Week

This week was the wettest, dreariest week this year.  One day as I was riding home, clothed in rain gear from head to toe, I pondered the cause of such poopy weather.  Then I looked down...

...and saw the water beading up on my top tube (Note: Since this is my Bike Friday, it's also my down tube).  The answer became crystal clear!  The mystery was solved!!  I knew with perfect clarity why the entire Eastern seaboard was inundated with a mix of rain, sleet and snow!!!

The weekend before - I washed and waxed my bike!!!!

Sorry everyone...

The Abandonment of Winter

As I ride through Huntington Park these days, I observe a recurring theme.

The tennis courts...

...abandoned.

The basketball courts...

...abandoned.

The ball fields...

...abandoned.

In another month, this won't be the case. As the days grow longer and temperatures grow fairer, this park will be bustling with activity. When that time comes, I will relish being a part of the revelry. For now I find quiet contentment in the victim of cold and darkness.

Why I Ride #2 - Solitude

I relate well to what Henry David Thoreau said in his classic "Walden"...

I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.

It's interesting that I can be riding in an urban setting. There are cars everywhere. There is not a vacant lot in the miles of neighborhoods I traverse. Instead, they are packed with houses occupied by people cooking, eating dinner, watching TV, taking showers, getting ready for bed and maybe even doing things that best not be verbalized on a rated "G" blog. Yet, even as I ride in the midst of it all, I still find myself alone. Again to quote Thoreau...

Solitude is not measured by the miles of space that intervene between a man and his fellows.

Solitude is but a state of mind, a state that cycling enables me to reach quite often.

Road Find #2 - Needle Nose Pliers

On a recent ride to work I happened upon...

Why I Ride #1 - It's Keeps My World Small

It was cold and dark as I rode home this evening. Wrapped in my cocoon of clothes and surrounded by an envelop of darkness, my world is small. It is no larger than the expanse of my headlight...
Beyond that is nothingness. I like that. It's a small world, but it's plenty big enough to suit me.

This Commuting Week in Pics - 2/7 - 2/11/11

A winter wonderland morning...
A bike snow breaker...
A sunset over the James River Bridge...

A Respite

On my ride home yesterday...

The sky was gray and gloomy, BUT it was 65 degrees!

The trees were barren and forlorn, BUT IT was 65 degrees!!

The sun hung precariously close to the horizon and was sinking fast, BUT IT WAS 65 degrees!!!

The calendar said that Spring was still 46 Days away, BUT IT WAS 65 DEGREES!!!!

For 2 months of commuting, I've been enduring darkness and freezing temperatures and quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of it.

I know it's a bit premature to begin rejoicing over a changing of the seasons. However, in my simple way of thinking, when the temperature outside is warmer than the temperature of my beer well that's plenty cause to celebrate.
Bottoms Up!!!!!!!!

Bulls and Bikes

Riding a bike back and forth to work gives one lots of time to think. For the most part, that's a good thing. If your not careful though, you can find your mind wandering to some pretty strange places.

Case in point. The other day I was riding home from work and happened upon this...

This got me to thinking. Would I ever consider hanging a pair of "bull balls" from my bike. Upon further consideration I came to the conclusion that "bull gonads" and "bike riding" are actually diametrically opposed. I guess that's why you never see bulls riding bikes. It's not because they don't have hands to properly grip the handlebars. This puzzle is not solved by the fact that they don't make helmets with holes designed for horns to stick out of. The answer to this mystery lies not in the reality that they don't make "bull shoes" much less ones that integrate with clipless pedals. There is but one - correction - two reasons that bulls don't ride bikes and they can both be found lying gently in the nether region.

Furthermore, If in the unlikely event I felt obliged to supplement my masculinity by hanging a pair of bull nuts from my bike, I certainly wouldn't choose an injection molded plastic version that you buy at a nickel and dime store. No - if I were to embark upon such a desperate path, it would be the BIG BRASS version for me. Yea - I know - they are more expensive. Yea - I know - they would be added weight. But - come on now - we are talking about my manhood after all!! Aren't we??

A Bike's Story?

If bikes could talk, oh the stories they could tell. Take this bike for instance...
I first saw it on my ride home the previous night. I was riding through a park, when my peripheral vision caught a glimpse of it on the perimeter of the glow of my headlight. I only saw it for an instant, but was immediately struck by the oddity. It was parked, exactly as it sits in the above picture - all alone, in the pitch black of night, pulled into a parking spot and resting on it's kickstand. What was it doing here? Where was the owner? That evening I was tempted to turn around and get a better look, but it was dark and in an isolated part of the park - I was tired, anxious to get home and not particularly inclined to being mugged in the event it's rider was of ill refute. I kept riding.

The next morning, on my ride to work, I was surprised to see the same bike, in the same spot. I was tempted to turn around, but was running late. I kept riding. That same afternoon on my ride home, there it still sat. Now my attention really peaked. It was daylight, I was in no hurry and I had no where to be or go. I stopped riding.

It was an old Peugeot that had certainly seen better days. It's chain was black with grease and grime. It sported steel rims that were rusted and while I did not spin them could tell were far from true. The handlebars were unwrapped and exposed. The tires were thread barren and the front one was flat. This bike had been around the block a time or two and was most definitely in need of a little TLC.

If bikes could talk, this would be one whose old, rusted wheels I would sit at and listen intently to it's tale. How old was it? How many miles passed beneath it's wheels? What was it's top speed? What paths had it taken? How many riders had it known? I would most certainly hear stories that brought a smile and still others that caused me to discreetly wipe away the tears that involuntarily trickled down my cheeks. In the end, I would be forced to bid this old steed farewell and hopefully walk away a better bike rider for having made it's acquaintance.

I Have To vs I Want To

This past Tuesday, I drove my truck to work for the first time in almost a year and a half.

It was raining, but I've ridden in far harder rain.

It was cold, but I've ridden in far colder temperatures.

The reason I drove is far more complicated. It all started with this...

...rubbing brakes. For the last couple weeks I've been having trouble with my wheels rubbing against my brakes. The previous night, I decided to rectify this situation in preparation for the upcoming commuting week. When I put these new brakes on my bike, I realized that I had to move the pads all the way to the very end of the arms to barely clear the tires. As the pads wore and became wider, they started to infringe upon the tire. I tried an assortment of adjustments to no avail, become increasingly frustrated and desperate in the process.

It was getting late, I was tired, cold and hungry, but I couldn't stop. I had to ride to work the next morning. My other bikes were either in the middle of preventative maintenance or remodeling, so they were unridable. This bike was my only option. It had to be fixed. I had to ride to work.

It was at this point that I stopped and considered my state of mind. Here I was, forgoing rest and food all because I had this perception that I had to ride to work. I started riding to work because I wanted to and now it had become this inward obligation. What was I trying to prove? Who was I trying to impress? I had become a slave to myself. That simply would not do. I dropped my tools, straightened up, turned off the light and walked out of my garage. "I'm taking the truck tomorrow", I said to myself. Not because I have to, but because I want to. It was time to break this vicious cycle of bike commuting out of obligation so that I could get back to bike commuting out of love.

When I got home that evening, in a much calmer state of mind, I switched back to my older brakes that had longer reach and the bike was ready for me to ride to work the next day. Not because I have to, but because I want to. I plan on making sure I keep it that way in the future.

Out With the Old - In With the New

Today was my first commute to work in the new year. As I pulled out of the driveway, I could hear the shipyard's whistle signaling the start of first shift. My place of employment is no less than 5 miles from my house, but it's whistle resonated eerily clear in the crisp morning air. It was as though it was opening its arms in the distance and beckoning me to come.

I rode slowly. Not because I was tired. Not because there was a headwind. Not because I was experiencing a mechanical failure. Not because it was uphill. I rode slowly in a feeble effort to postpone that inevitable embrace.

I finally arrived at work and my first order of business was to take down the old calendar where I kept track of my bike commuting days (Green = Bike, Yellow = Bus, Red = Truck)...

...and put up the new.

Looking at that blank calendar, I realized, with mounting excitement, that I have a lot of days to ride this year. It's good to be back.

Perfect Day for an Overhaul

When I awoke the morning after Christmas, the weather outside was indeed frightfully beautiful...

There would be no going out that day and for several days after. It was a perfect time to do a little PM on my Commuting Bike.

Over the last 6 months, I've ridden that bike to work everyday through all manner of inclement conditions.

It's been rained on, snowed on and covered with road grit.
It's been ridden on roads, dirt, gravel and sidewalks.
It's been ridden through pot holes, mud, 12" of standing water and 2" of icy slush.

Through it all, it has uttered not a word of complaint, but I can tell she's in need of a little TLC.

So it was up in the repair stand...

Cleaning the chain...

Repacking the hubs...

Gentle application of a little elbow grease...

She now shines bright, beautiful, greased, lubes and ready for work to start in the new year...

Merry Christmas

The last few weeks I've had to work late quite often and consequently, my rides home were in complete darkness. One of those evenings, as I slowly pedaled through the neighborhoods and enjoyed the array of Christmas lights and decorations, I realized it was time for me to decorate the bike and spread my own bit of Christmas cheer.
Riding around on this bike has become a bit of a tradition for me over the last 2 or 3 years. As I commute back and forth on this "Blinking Christmas Tree on Two Wheels", I can't tell you how many people stop what they're doing, smile and bade me a Merry Christmas. I know I look like a dork, but considering the little bit of joy it brings to people, it is a small price to pay.

Today is Christmas day. I'm done with work for the year. Instead of donning my riding gear and braving the cold and traffic, my mornings for the next week will be spent pretty much like this...
Its a rough life I know. Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!

12 MPH

Today is my last day of work for 2010. This morning when I climb on my bike it will mark the 205th day that I've ridden to work. Considering the fact that I worked a total of 211 days, that equates to riding to work 97% of the time. The other 6 days or 3%, I took the bus. I am quite proud of the fact that I did not use my truck a single time in the past year to get to work.

As I look back on this accomplishment, I realize that it was not without some degree of sacrifice. I rode through heat, freezing cold, rain, snow, ice and heavy winds. I rode early in the morning and late into the evening. There was more than one day that if that bike were a horse, I'd a shot it. I've had cars run through red lights, cut me off, buzz by me too close for comfort, honk at me, yell at me and run me off the road.

Sure, this year has not been without it's trials and tribulations. Yet, I rode on days when the temperature was absolutely perfect and the breezes gentle. I rode on days when there was not a cloud in the sky and nights when the stars were so numerous that if you could but reach the first one, you could spend an eternity hopping from one to to another. I saw majestic sunrises and breathtaking sunsets.

Commuting to work is healthy for the environment and for me. Commuting to work reduces congestion on our roads and our dependence on foreign oil. Those are good, noble reasons, but they're not what keeps me climbing on that bike day after day.

Everyday that I ride gives me a chance to slow my life down a bit and that's the primary reason I do it. 12 MPH - that's just about the right speed for me. At 12 MPH, I'm not gonna break any records or win any races. At 12 MPH, I won't be out of breath or tax my cardiovascular system. At 12 MPH, it's gonna take me a little longer to get to where I'm going.

By today's standards - 12 MPH ain't fast - but it gives me time look around, listen, breathe, think, relax and unwind. That makes 12 MPH fast enough for me.