I bounded out of bed this morning with uncharacteristic determination to go to yoga class. I dress, ate, and hoped on the bike. Flat tire. Yoga is out. It would take twice as long to get there by bus, and since I happen to be out of spare tubes, I had to patch the tube which will take at least 10 minutes. Given the pouring rain, I would get to yoga too late and too drippy. I set to patching the tube and found my bottle of patch cement all dried up. That’s OK! I have more! And the second bottle was empty. That’s OK! I have more! With the tube securely patched and tires scoured for guilty objects, I pumped the tube and….pssssssssssst. A second pinprick hole on the opposite end! I set the second patch. My new super bottle of cement took forever to dry. I need a new tire, I know. I have about 9,000 miles on this tire, which is probably a pretty good life. The tread is worn, the side walls are cracked. I gave up trying to ride to work. The risk of the worn out tire being the cause of the flats and simply creating another flat down the road seemed too likely. Then the rain came pouring down. It was an omen. Defeated, I sat in my bike outfit on the bed. The cat just sat there and stared at me. It was like she knew. She just kept staring! It could have been worse, my coworker lives in Bothell, north of me. A huge “3 alarm” fire broke out in the wee hours of the morning downtown, redirecting transit and traffic through the morning commute. Not that there isn’t a reason delaying traffic during rush hour daily, but a fire through a historic area is particularly tragic.
The best mid-ride energy snack ever
I am obsessed with these muffins I discovered from a blog over on MyFitnessPal. The blog was about things to do with over-ripe bananas. Brilliant! These are so easy and forgiving, which is what I love most about them. All you have to do is throw a cooked sweet potato in a bowl with a couple of over ripe bananas with an egg and mash them together. They mix really easily, although the last batch I used a food processor because I made 4 batches at once. From that you can put in whatever additional “boosters” you want. I like the chocolate chip, dried cranberry, coconut combination so much I keep doing that. In my most recent batch I didn’t add chia seeds, but I did in the batch before.
The moist and spongy texture of the muffins reminds me more of cake than a muffin. So often “healthy” muffins are dense, heavy, and dry. These are light and fluffy. It’s easy to eat one after the other. I noted on the recipe site regular (non-dried) cranberries, which I would love to try!
These muffins have no added sugar, but the ingredients are so sweet you would think sugar was added. They have to be wrapped, and while they might get smashed in a jersey pocket, they are still easy to eat. Because they are so moist, they break down into large pieces, not crumbs.
I see London, I see France...
I biked along the Burke Gilman trail on a warm and sunny day earlier this spring. A tall woman pedaled up to me and said, “Can I say something to you? I don’t know….maybe you already know….but….In the sun, and it’s sunny, I can totally see your underwear through your leggings.” I gasped, dumbfounded. Me?!?! How could this be?! “Thank you!” I yelled, “I had no idea!” She nodded, peeled ahead of me and was gone.
I’d seen the underwear of many women riding bikes downtown. I usually shake my head, sad that some people don’t have enough money to bike in proper pants and had to wear tights, or had bike pants so old that the threads became transparent. It never occurred to me that the wearer might not even know.
I pondered what to do the rest of the ride. I had no jacket with me, nothing to cover up my embarrassment. I happened to be wearing the world’s goofiest pair of underwear, of course. A sunny afternoon on the Burke Gilman meant hundreds of people would see my transparent ass and I was at least 10 miles from home. I had no choice but to shake my booty in pride. Yeah, I meant to show off my ass! Yeah, baby, yeah!
I wore “leggings” so I could easily transition from bike to gym. These leggings were new! And black! How could they be see-though? I hate going to the gym in bike pants because I feel like a goober lifting barbells with a diaper butt. At the same time, my business casual work clothes are no more appropriate for the gym than they are the bike. I already wear 4 outfits a day and I don’t want to pack another. Since that day, I’ve wondered about all the other pants I wear on the bike. How do I test their transparency? I can’t see behind me. I bike to work alone, and am not about to ask a stranger, “Hey, so, can you see my crack?” I’ve told friends they had to look at my butt on my bike in the sun, but sunny weather is hard to plan in Seattle and months have gone by since that incident and I still am none the wiser about the rest of my pants. It occurred to me that none of these women bearing it all would have any clue, unless someone like myself told them. This appears to be a woman’s issue only. So few men wear lycra or other tight-fitting thin fabrics (outside of proper bike shorts) in the sun.
So this morning a young woman passes me- and there they were, rainbow-striped bikini briefs for all the world to see. This was my opportunity to pay it forward, return the favor that was bestowed upon me. But I couldn’t. I balked. Honestly, I was more concerned about embarrassing myself, tumbling over my words than I was embarrassing her. I hesitated, too- maybe she wants us to see all those stripes? But, as women on bikes, this is our duty! No man in this day and age ripe with objectification awareness is going to tell her about her giant crack on display for the whole world to see. We have to do it! Or, better yet, ladies- check your backsides tonight! Grab a trusted friend, or at least one with a good sense of humor! If you can see it all at home, I bet you can see it all when it’s perched high out there in the sunlight.
Fremont bridge bike count: 494
Bike trend Tuesday: Cycling makes life better
I thought it might be fun to compare my riding style and interests with other riders. I found this Bicycling Magazine Reader's Choice Poll and thought it had some entertaining info graphics. The article was published in 2014, but I couldn't find a more recent poll that was equally interested. I doubt we've changed that much since then. Where do you fit in?
I'd say "Free Bird", at least the refrain, describes what riding is like for me. The things definitely apply to me. I don't really save money or see friends more often when I ride, but I definitely feel happier, have more energy, and think more clearly. I was going to say something about being less forgetful, but I forgot what it was.
Rush hour good samaritans
My eyes dart back and forth. My feet pedal with the quick pulse mixed with hesitation that only rush hour calls for. The time is five o’clock and I am biking in downtown Seattle. The 6 lanes of one-way traffic on 4th avenue hustle with more bustle at this hour than any other. Transit buses overlap each other as some stop for riders, other have to fan out 2 lanes to make a turn, and others simply need to get going. Tourists jolt ahead only to stop at each intersection, rubbernecks reaching to find the turn they are looking for. Taxicabs and tired, stressed out commuters honk and tailgate, trying to get ahead. Other commuters, having given up on the rush, lay behind, texting in a daze while their car inches forward. Pedestrians assert their right of way, either because they too have to get somewhere right now, or they are downtown with nothing else to do besides meander the streets. Then there are people like me; the cyclists, trying to find the sweet but impossible balance of energy conservation while mimicking car like paces, all the while watching out for every lane change, distracted driver, pothole and utility grate coming their way. Other cyclists, riding the white line zip past me, blowing my hair up as they pass. I lurch forward, pedaling as fast as I can to stay behind the car in front of me as it approaches the next intersection. The car in front of me swerves to expose a sedan to my left, pulling to a stop, angled across 2 lanes. The driver dashes out to the back of the car. What is going on? I observe the situation. The older, white-haired man looked at me with clear, but expectant eyes. He hurried but looked at me again. The first thought that came to mind was “heart attack”. Why else would someone stop their car across 2 lanes in the middle of rush hour? I stop, not really thinking of the cars behind me. They swerve and merge with the lane to my side. He hustles to the back of the car as quickly as he could. He says to me between breaths, “that lady on the bike….” He bends to the ground, “dropped her iPhone.” He picks it up. The giant, bright, still lit screen displayed whatever artist was playing through the earbuds, still attached. “I didn’t want anyone to run it over. It could be smashed in a second” He says. I acknowledge him, gazing out ahead. I saw no one on a bike. “She’s lonnng gone” He says. I’ll call someone on the phone right away, get it back to her.” By then he was back in the car, starting the engine and navigating the screen at the same time. “Thank you,” I said, “you are doing a great thing today. You will make her day.” And with that, I got back into the thick of traffic and pedaled home. He may have hoped I knew the woman, it would have been great if I did. I didn’t help at all. Still, I smiled all the way home. Amidst all the skepticism and fear that abounds, , I took comfort in knowing here were people out there who were willing to take a risk to help a stranger out. The man’s action also gave me a useful anecdote. I could sit in rush hour traffic, basking in the despair that comes from knowing I’m surrounded by frustrated people, buried in a pointless rat race. Instead, I can now imagine a few dots among the thousands slowing down traffic because they are doing a selfless deed. That sure makes traffic easier to take!
Bike MS Oregon is just 3 weeks away!
This year's bike MS crept up pretty quickly. I have just 3 weeks to go! I am incredibly grateful and excited about how many donations I've gotten so far. Every year I am amazed, but this year I am especially happy. What I am sad about is this years' Facebook thanking process. No one has mentioned anything to me, but I worry about overloading my Facebook feed thanking people who have donated. It is a super awesome thing to do, and everyone who contributes deserves recognition, I have no problem with that. It's just that not everyone has the means to give, and not everyone has the energy to focus on my own cause. We all have our causes and passions, and I imagine a daily reminder of my cause could appear repetitive and annoying to those not involved. This year I decided to focus all my gratitude on my facebook page, instead of my personal feed. I asked everyone I am connected with to "like" my page, so those interested could stay in touch. Since then, I've posted every day. Facebook allows me to see the reach of each post, and it's been interesting. Of those posts that no one interacts with (the reach is multiplied with activity), the most popular posts are photographs. However, my thank you's have practically zero reach. I post them at peak login times, and they just aren't seen. This method isn't working. I want people to know I am thankful. I want them to know that this is really important.
Check out the page below:
Seattle traffic lights; I don't understand you
Traffic light timing in Seattle seems like it is all over the place. I can’t wrap my head around it. I wish I understood why or could get some sort of explanation behind it. Is there anybody out there in the internets who might be able to enlighten me? Hello? What are the chances you, oh wise one, might be reading my blog?
For years I could ride the 1.9 mile stretch on 5th avenue downtown from Bell to Union waiting at just one traffic light. Since last fall, I’ve had to wait at 2 lights. For about the past 2 weeks, I’ve had the wonderful luxury of the timing being set the old way and I’ve been able to blast through. It’s been wonderful! Today was pay back. Today I, and every other driver on 5th avenue, had to wait at every single light on this 1.9 miles stretch. This had nothing to do with traffic. Because the lights are timed and the lower pedestrian level, traffic backups don’t slow my or anyone’ progress until south of Pike. All 8 lights were just timed to stop us at every block. I waited an additional 14 minutes at these lights (yes, I timed each one). It delayed me so much that I didn’t have time to shower before work. Sorry, co-workers. Please send you letters of disgust regarding my body odor to The City.
I actually sent a letter to the city regarding the inconsistent light timing at 65th and Fremont. Months later I got a reply. They said they checked in out and couldn’t find anything wrong. Now the intersection flips back and forth between the “old way” and the “new random way” I am trained to expect anything. I still don’t understand why. There must be a reason the timing changes like this. Someone, a team even, planned this, decided this, and programmed this. I wish I just knew why.
The source of the above photo reports that a computerized technology was implemented this month that is intended to "intelligently" adjust traffic lighting in "real time". Traffic on 5th avenue appears to be worse overall this month. The increased slowing south of Pike makes sense to me; it's tourist season and there is a large construction project on Madison. If this fancy traffic thing is the culprit, I would expect the crazy lighting today to be in response to something significant and unusual happening adjacent to 5th avenue, but there is no big event today. No president, no protest, nothing that I know of.
THE ROAD CYCLING ENTHUSIAST DEFINED
I thought the following description from intheknowcycling was fascinating. I am not alone! It pretty much describes me perfectly, with a few exceptions. Pace-wise, I average in the mid teens instead of the high teens. While the amount I've spent on my bike, including upgrades and gear reaches the low-end of what enthusiasts pay for their bikes, my bike itself doesn't come to that amount. Perhaps this implies if I upgraded I'd go faster, but I doubt it. Obviously, I am in the "growing women" category, but I probably even out my majority status as I'm of the 1/3 who's been hit by a car. I'm surprised about half of the enthusiasts ride on trainers. Maybe I should get one?
Check it out:
Road cycling enthusiasts are serious, committed and regular riders who rack up between 2,000 to 5,000 miles (3,000-7,000 kilometers) a year. We ride on flat, rolling and mountainous terrain and do interval, strength and endurance training. We will generally be on our bikes 4-6 days a week outdoors in decent weather. In lousy weather, about half of us will ride on a trainer. Some will still ride outside and the rest will sleep in. We ride on our own, with regular partners, and in group rides.
During the year, we’ll normally ride for the pure love of it and for the way it energizes us (and reduces stress). Some of us will also add in a few races, club rides, centuries, gran fondos, sportives or charity events to motivate our riding and measure ourselves. As a road cycling enthusiast, we average speeds in the high teens to low twenties (mph) or 28 to 35kph over the course of a typical 35 to 50 mile or 50 to 80km ride, depending on terrain, conditions, fitness and training objectives.
About a third of us have been hit by a car and one in eight have broken a collarbone riding. (Yes and yes). And, of course, we enjoy a beer or two every now and then.
Most cycling enthusiasts will have modern composite bikes or high-end alloy or titanium ones that cost us typically between $2500/£2000/€2500 and $5000/£4000/€5000 to buy or build. Some of us spend more, some much, much more. We use electronics and apps that allow us to track and analyze distance, speed, cadence, heart rate, and for many, power.
Most of us are men though a growing number are women. We weigh between 150 and 200lbs (68 to 90kgs), are pretty fit and use cycling to help stay or get there. Yes, we’re probably a little vain and selfish with the clothing we wear and the time (and money) we spend on cycling.
We’re also dedicated to our cycling to the point where most of our family and friends know that riding is something we do and for some, do a lot of. When it comes to cycling and buying bike gear, many of us do a lot of research and are analytical, often overly so and that’s part of the fun of it.
Molasses
Today is the first day I biked all the way to work in a couple of weeks. I’ve been sick with a respiratory infection and every time I tried to exert myself I’d be attacked by a coughing fit that would leave my chest muscles stinging in pain and my lungs desperate for breath. I wasn’t really ready to ride yet today, but I had to start again sometime and with President Obama coming to town right on my commute route and the added congestion brought on by Pride festivities and various sporting events, I knew that taking the bus today would take twice as long as biking, or worse. Turns out it was a good decision. While traffic was light on my commute, I passed a steady string of cop cars, cop buses, and cop SUVs wrapped around The Westin and adjacent roads, Obama’s Seattle home base. People I met commuting just an hour after me, even those on the light rail, came in late. Obama doesn't even arrive until 3pm or so.
Riding today can only be exclaimed in terms of molasses. I pedaled so slowly that the word passed by a though it were encased in dripping molasses. My tired, un-acclimated legs pushed through the air with a slow intention as though the air was made of molasses. My lungs pulled air in with a slow and ineffective intensity as though my esophagus was filled with molasses. The rain and clouds made the horizon look like it was behind a molasses filter. The cold in the air chilled my fingers and toes as though my blood flowed through me like molasses. My arms moved slowly, as though my body were filled with molasses. Molasses, everything molasses. I am glad I rode today, but I am hoping I start to feel better soon.
Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 174
Bike MS 2016 Escape to the Lake Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
My uncle and I left just before sunrise to meet his friend, Dominic, and drive to the start of the ride at Moraine State Park. My father remembers us riding rental bikes at Moraine State Park one time when we visited Pittsburgh in my childhood. This trip makes this bike ride even more full-circle than I originally thought. We waited at the start line for the mass start, something I tend not to do any more during MS rides, but something that adds to the whole experience. We biked the residential areas, small towns, and fields of rural PA to Allegheny College in Meadville. After resting and relaxing from the heat and humidity of the day, Lonnie and I took the ride's school bus ride to the Days Inn. We ate an amazing dinner at Chovy's Italian restaurant and then slept away the day. The following day we biked north to Conneaut Township Park in Ohio. The would-be flat to downhill ride challenged us with a steady and strong headwind. After hanging out on windy Lake Erie for a time, we took a slick charter shuttle bus the long drive back to Moraine State Park to finish the adventure.
After chatting with folks, calculating ride averages, arrival times, and other distraction-math, and cycling meditations (updownupdownupdown), there is just enough time left over for deep thoughts. Yes, today I am sharing thee deep, deep thoughts brought on by riding Bike MS Escape to the Lake 2016. Read on if you dare:
Deep Thoughts:
All MS rides start the same; inflatable orange arch, music, cheesy DJ cheering on teams and various fundraisers. Nothing will ever beat the start line of the MS Walk in '97 in Avery Park, Corvallis, Oregon. The walk organizer works all year to put on a walk of this magnitude. Sadly, just days before the walk itself, her MS put her in the hospital with no known release date. A friend put her cell phone on speaker and the hundreds of people hushed in silence to hear her voice from her hospital bed. She gushed thanks for all the help organizing the thing. It was such a small phone, but we all heard. There was not a dry eye in sight. I tear up just thinking about it. These rides are always emotional for me. I cry every time.
I got a flat tire just 3.5 miles into the ride. As I pedaled across a bridge, I heard something metallic catch on my rear wheel. It sounded like a metal leaf got stuck in my spokes, something like that. Then I heard the air hiss out of my tire slowly and steadily until I was riding on wheel. I stopped and walked the bike to the edge of the bridge. Several SAG vehicles stopped, not just because the ride has just begun, but because several other riders coincidentally had other issues at the same time in the same place. A friendly guy stopped to lend me his air pump and then proceeded to tell me about how he delayed his honeymoon on account of this ride. He told me he and his new bride in the truck got married just last weekend. They had plans too go to Disney World, but not until after they finished their SAG duties. He used to be a cyclist himself until an injury left him on the sidelines. I thanked him for his dedication and wished him a happy honeymoon. There is an awful lot of dead opossum on this route (day 1). This is ironic because opossum play dead, but sadly the flies and other indicators told me it wasn't a game this time around.
In biking with a pack of the RoadKill Warriors, they do a call-and-reponse chant, "Roadkill"...."Warriors" whenever a roadkill is spotted. The sight of a deer lead to a long line of chanting. They'd also chant a few other phrases, "How long?"....."Too long!" or "How strong?"...."Too strong!" I am not sure which they were actually saying.. There is a strong likelihood both played in the evening.
I have never seen so many families sitting on their porches, in their yards, or on their driveways watching the cyclists go by. While this ride didn't boast a whole lot of spectators cheering us on from the roadside, the porch-side beer-drinking tea-sipping folks more than made up for it. I tried to wave at all of them!
Roadkill warriors were a super fun and friendly bunch. Apparently they partied until rider's village shut down. I could have easily hung out with all of them all day and not run out of things to talk about. Cycling! Travel! Adventure!
That guy yelling, "OH GOD! OH GOD! OW! ARGH!" Was he really suffering that much or was he the kind of guy who just needed to vocalize everything?
I didn't see any teams kitted out looking all slick and fast and pro. I only saw one pace line out of two days, and it was clearly an impromptu one of strangers
I make noise when I ride. I grunt going across railroad tracks and over lumps and bumps. So does my uncle. Maybe there is a gene linked to bike-grunting?
The guy with prosthetic legs who hand-cycled the whole ride rocked it! And, yes, he had some big guns.
Molly saved the day! Her bluetooth backpack pumped out the tunes when I needed them the most, and her conversation was great, too. As was everyone on this ride.
I kind of felt like a celebrity. My rear-facing Go Pro got a lot of attention. Countless guys came up behind me to make goofy faces, giggling. Sadly, once they got up to talk to me about it, I would have to tell them the battery was dead. Sad day. My hair also got a lot of attention. I have it died blue. I also have blue tires, blue spoke nipples, blue valve caps, blue bar tape and blue and orange MS-themed nails. I kind of matched too much.
This ride didn't have any of the signs and posters on all the porta-potties and rest areas spouting facts about MS (symptoms, research, etc.) However, several strangers struck up conversations with me about the reason they were riding. It got around that I came all the way across the country to do this ride, which is kind of a big deal. I shared with them that my mother, the reason I ride, was born and raised in Pittsburgh. And while I have no memory of living there, it was sort of a coming home for me. People talked to me about their cousins, sisters, nephews who had MS. The people I talked to all had a loved family member who had been diagnosed in the past few years. Worry and denial seemed to be a theme, and these folks just wanted to talk to someone who cared as much as they did and and knew what was going on. I told them about how much has changed since my mother has been diagnosed. Since I started riding, drugs have been developed that can prolong the relapsing-remitting stages for decades, and really, the outlook was pretty good for their loved one. I feel like I may have actually helped put a few people at ease. It was weird feeling a bit like the old sage of the ride.
I saw Amish families in traditional dress passing by on horse and buggy. I chuckled to myself; this isn't something you'd see in other states.
On day one, after drinking a lot the night before, I drank 130-some ounces of water and emptied my bladder once. On day two, after not hydrating the night before, I drank 30 ounces of water an emptied my 5 times.
Nearly every intersection had 2 volunteers, and nearly all of them stopped traffic for us riders. It was fantastic to confidently ride through so many intersections. I didn't see hardly any Harley dudes. My uncle tells me there always used to e a whole fleet of volunteers on Harley everywhere you go. I agreed, remembering these trusty HAM-radio Harley dudes from so many rides, They seem to have once swarmed the country and are not completely absent. Where did they go?
There were some really enthusiastic rest stops, but no decorations. The team tents didn't decorate, either. If the chapter asks for feedback, I may recommend that. It may be a little silly, but it is entertaining.
I got a long string of bug bites. They spanned from my left wrist, up my left arm, across my back and over to the right arm, in a perfect line. They are large, raised, and incredibly itchy.
The first day was hot and humid. Sweat dripped from me pretty much constantly for hours on end. I couldn't keep my sunscreen on. I staged ice cubes everywhere I could, and drank a lot of water. I am incredibly thankful for my cooling sun sleeves.
The second day was much cooler, but we were met with a brutal headwind that didn't let up the entire ride. It blew off of Lake Erie and just kept on blowing. When we finished, we rolled over to a park and I was able to see the light green hue of the lake in the distance. It looked like and ocean.
Food
Food is always one of the most important things about biking.
Snacks:
cinnamon swirl bread! Yum!
The typical PB&J, bananas, clementines, fruit snacks and Quaker chewy bars (borrring).
Pickles (what?! Who wants a pickle while riding? The thought of it makes my stomach turn!)
Snyder's of Hanover snack packs (swoons. I wan to marry this man, if he were a man, and his swarm of tasty snacks)
Udi's or Udu's or Umo's snacks or something like that. They had a tasty parmesan popcorn. This was not just any popcorn, it was "tender baby kernels of popcorn". Whatever that means. Tasty stuff, though.
Lean energy bars and protein bars. I can't remember the brands, but I ate a ton and pocketed more.
Lunch Day 1:
Super delicious pasta salad. They put garbanzo beans in it. Garbanzo beans are my current obsession. They may even trump pumpkin! Some forgettable sandwich.
Roadkill Warriors tent boasted coolers overflowing with IPA's and pop. Yup. They call it pop here. Home-made burgers and dogs, veggie trays with tasty spiced dips, tasty broccoli salad, and a variety of meats and cheeses.
Dinner Day 1:
Green salad, warm table bread, seafood linguine in some sort of flavorful beer bisque type sauce. The drink special, a strawberry lemonade moscato drink in a fancy glass and floating strawberries.
Breakfast Day 2:
Forgettable breakfast buffet at Days Inn. It seemed confused. There was an uncharge, a host, and restaurant seating with napkins. But the food was pretty much the same a the complimentary breakfasts you get at any old hotel.
Lunch Day 2:
The finish line lunch had veggie cabbage tacos on corn tortillas, pulled pork sandwiches on thick buns covered with cilantro and cucumbers, and giant skewers of BBQ chicken. This was easily one of the best last-day MS ride lunches I've ever seen.
Cat packs herself (and my bike) in a box
I bought my road bike at a time before airlines charged extra fees for all checked bags. I traveled a lot that time, and invested in a hard plastic case for transporting the bike. I purchased a case that happened to be smaller than standard bike cases at the time, and much smaller than the cardboard boxes many use to fly with bikes. I regretted purchasing such a small case at first, because I have to remove the front fork and handlebars and tuck the derailer in like a dog with its tail between its legs to get the bike to fit. The box paid for itself in a matter of a few trips however when airline agents looked at the box and said, “Is that a bike? It’s so small I won’t charge you.” Later on it became, “Is that a violin? An upright bass? Did you know there is no fee for over-sized musical instruments, but the fee for sports equipment is $80?” Followed by lots of winking. Then standards changed and we had to pay for everything outside of a carry-on. It quickly became cheaper for me to rent $10,000 demo bikes for the weekend than ship my own. I haven’t traveled with my bike for many years. Sadly, all demo bikes were spoken for in all of Western Pennsylvania, so I am flying my own bike this time. I dusted the cobwebs off the ole’ case and got the bike all settled inside. It took me a long time to pack it in. Now that I am older and wiser I paid attention to keeping the greasy bits contained and the touching bits protected. Tiny scratches and dents span my entire bike now, most of which happened when the bike was in transport.
I don’t know that I’d recommend buying a hard case now to anyone traveling with a bike, now that I know there is no way the case will pay for itself. However, I am very happy to have had it for this trip! Now I wait for adventure to begin.
BikeMS is this weekend
It's barely a week away, Escape to the Lake, the BikeMS charity fundraiser riding from Pittsburgh to Erie, Pennsylvania. I'll be meeting up with my uncle Lon and Team Roadkill Warriors and riding my bike to raise money for the National MS society. The goal is to support people living with multiple sclerosis. The goal is to end this disease and what it does to people. Will you support me? A little bit goes a long way!
Click here to donate:
Check out my donation letter:
Read more about BikeMS and my mission:
A word from my mom:
I glove you!
There is a certain spot where I disrobe on my ride into work. No, I don’t get totally naked, it’s just that there is a definitive line where my commute crosses into the urban heat island. Most of my commute into work is downhill, so the more rural stretches can feel bitter cold in the morning. I cross into the heat island long before my commute flattens out, so it’s before the last long, big hill that gloves, hats, and jackets come off. This morning I hurriedly swapped gloves, started pedaling just as the light turned green. I heard a voice call out behind me, “YOU DROPPED A GLOVE!” I awkwardly tried to stop and turn around- not so easy when you are on a bike on a sharp descent. The lady driving the SUV behind me actually got out of her car to pluck the glove out of the road in front of her and hand it to me. I gawked in shock. The light is green! It’s just a glove! You can run it over, it’s fine! But, there was no one behind her, and she was far swifter bending over than I would have been on my bike. I thanked her profusely. Seattle drivers tend to be more relaxed than other cities I’ve lived in. They are totally OK driving 40mph on an empty interstate, stopping in the middle of rush hour to say hello to someone on the sidewalk, spinning around in the middle of a busy intersection to find a better parking spot, slowing at a huge interchange to check their GPS, and stopping on a green light to recover a lost glove, apparently. Usually I am aghast at how calmly Seattle drives (dare I say passive-aggressive?). But today, the calm response helped me out, instead of being in my way, and I felt very thankful! There is a piece of community that is lost when you just drive life by.
Skunk butt!
Because of planned bike riding shenanigans later, I rode my “good” bike into work today. Before I left, I checked the forecast and noted it called for rain. I looked outside and saw it was rainy. But, because I left at oh-mygawd-o’clock in the morning, my sleepy brain didn’t really register this. I didn’t apply my removable fender and didn’t strap on lights. It didn’t take long for my butt, backpack, and jacket to soak up the wet street spray, grime and dirt. Again, because I rode my “good” bike, I had to carry my things in a backpack because it can’t support my panniers (which are delightfully waterproof). I carefully packed my backpack, like I always do, making sure nothing critical sat on the top of the pack if it were to rain. I did not, however, consider the bottom of my pack getting wet. Like my skunk butt, it too absorbed the water. So when I got to work all wet and soggy, I took a shower and then put on nice soggy work clothes. My shirt and pants are both dappled with polka dot blobs all around them. They are not uncomfortably wet, just a damp reminder of my poor judgement. I’m embarrassed for not having lights. How could I forget something that could really impact my safety? I got to work feeling shameful, but luckily without incident.
Fremont Bridge Bike Counter: 188 (What? I have been in the mid-400’s for weeks! Can that many commuters really been steered away by the rain? Are that many people skipping out on work Friday to extend a 3-day weekend? Do that many people get Memorial Day off? I am shocked, I say! Shocked!)
Escape to Lake!
I'm going "home". That's right. The 2nd weekend of June I am riding one of Pennsylvania's Bike MS fundraisers; Escape to Lake.
I've ridden BikeMS in 6 different states so far, and each ride has it's own, unique personality. Pennsylvania has several BikeMS events all across the state, something the other states I've ridden in don't share. I can't wait to see what the biking culture is like in Pennsylvania, in a place that has so many different rides and routes. If Oregon had that many rides, I would be a very, very busy biker! I visited Erie on a family vacation when I was just 14 years old. Other than that one time, I haven't been back since my birth days. I remember the long drive at being incredibly green and lush with dense trees with thin trunks. But that was back then, back when Oregon's landscape was still heavy with old growth. Those early teen years, the unforgettable years of the Spotted Owl debate were really the last years of thick trees in Oregon. I wonder how Pennsylvania will look to me now. Will the trees look just like the trees I am used to on the west coast? I've been pleasantly surprised and amazed with some of the landscapes on MS rides (hellooo Valley of Fire State park!) and disappointed with others (ahem, Best Dam ride, your Dam was not the best dam!). This the first ride I've been curious about.
I don't ride in the heat much, and I certainly don't ride in humid climates much at all, so this ride may pose some new challenges. The weather will determine how far I ride. The route looks amazing, and more hilly than I expected and more hilly than I can get riding around Seattle. I'm very excited about riding in the area, however. I can't wait to see the trees and landscape and compare how it differs from places I ride on the west coast.
Donating is easy! All you have to do is click here and follow the "donate" now buttons to donate to this ride.
A large portion of donation money goes to research. I've seen more progress in disease-modifying drug developments than in any other area. A person diagnosed with MS today has a much better prognosis than a person diagnosed with MS 20 years ago. It took a lot of money, a lot of research, and a lot of participation and involvement from people already living with MS to get there. The MS Society played a big role in that. The whole diagnosis process is much improved as well. Before the MRI, a professional couldn't make a confident and timely diagnosis at all. With improved techniques, diagnosis is faster and more accurate than it's ever been. I am proud of these advancements and would like to think that the money I've raised over the years impacted them. But there is so much more to do.
Maps of day one ride options:
Help me choose!
Map of Day Two:
More details about the ride:
Keeping up with Bike Everywhere month stats
Not only is the team I ride for in 1st place of all of the City of Seattle teams, individually I am in 4th place! Now, the placing is based on "number of trips" and since I ride to the health club and to work, I am riding more "trips" than I have in the past. However, I must mention that City Employees have to log their miles into the Bike Everywhere month system through a portal website maintained by the city. This particular portal does not accommodate anything other than 2-equally distant commutes per day. It's based off the outdated model that bike month was about commuters and rides to the grocery store, etc. are not counted. There is a tedious and time consuming work around that I took the time to deal with, but I imagine most employees don't bother. I certainly wouldn't have in the past. So, really, my being in 4th place has more to do with my logging methods than my actual biking. One thing I can for sure be proud of is miles ridden. So far I am in 16th place overall for the city in mileage. And 3 of the people ahead of me are on my team! Whoo hoo!
Biking by the Velveteen Cafe
I pedaled around a residential corner in the weee hours of Seattle’s early morning. I came upon 4 fluffy bunnies sitting in the green square of a front lawn, chewing on a patch of clover. They huddled together, kind of like what you’d see in an office around the water cooler. Their little noses wiggled and their mouths waddled back and forth as they considered the delightful clover. I call them bunnies because they didn’t look like the typical rabbit I’d see on a bike ride. Usually a brown tufted rabbit with dull fur and a thin belly would gallop across my path between the bushes of a bike path. I’d usually see them on that invisible but distinct line where city turns to country. I assume they are the wild, native rabbits; cottontails. These bunnies had dark, thick, shiny fur and plump bellies. Were they pets? Did someone really have 4 rabbits they let roam free? The house they sat in front of is on a busy street, and within sight of a ramp to one of Seattle’s major state highway. Perhaps the family only lets the rabbits out before 6am when traffic is light.
Fremont Bridge Bike Count: 444
We're number 1!
The bike team I ride for is currently NUMBER 1 out of all the City of Seattle bike month teams. Since the City of Seattle employs some 10,000 people, it's pretty remarkable to be number 1 at something. Feeling a little bit of pride about right now!
Bike Everywhere month
It appears I am more active on the saddle than the average participant. Pretty cool! But, wow, the average participant is pretty awesome, too! Other than folks that bike more than me, I don't really know anyone who bike 56 miles in just a couple of weeks. You rock 'em, Seattle!
It's the final Friday
April has been a fascinating month for the bridge counter. On days where it is raining or threatening rain, I’ve clocked in at the low-200s with numbers like today’s 230. On days where sun is guaranteed, like the sunny 80-degree days Seattle saw last week, my number skyrockets to the upper 500’s; 550, 560. I have not seen variation like this all year. It seems like many months over the winter I would clock in a short range of 10 numbers or so for many days. April, however, has been all over the place. Just like our weather, my count has risen up and down and all over. Today being the last day before May Bike Everywhere Month and the following June, I wonder what my numbers will be next. I suspect they will double. They may even triple on the sunny warm days. It will be interesting to see.
Today I got to joyfully wave at several courteous drivers. I love it when cars passing me that want to turn right not only use their turn signal, but also slow down so I know I can bike past them going straight without worrying they are going to hit me. Every time I pass these wonderful people I give them a “wavewavewave” with my hand. I hope they know I am saying, “Thank you! You are amazing and I feel more safe because of you!” This morning’s nice gestures made up for last night’s mayhem...
I used my air horn. TWICE! A car turning right jutted out into the intersection at full speed, flooring the gas pedal. Then, for whatever reason, he changed his mind and jolted to a stop, right over the bike lane. Over a dozen of us on bikes braked and squealed and swerved when he blocked the lane. One cyclist could have easily not braked as hard as the guy in front of him causing a cascading domino of crashing bikes. Luckily, this didn’t happen. The pile of bikes had nowhere to go with the car in the way. I honked. The guy in the front of the line pounded on the car’s rear window as he passed. He could have been using the car as a sudden-braking brace, but I think he was trying to alert the driver to what he just did. I would feel angry and violated if a stranger pounded on my car. I am hoping my honk communicated more of an “alert!” message instead of a “f-you!” message.
The second time I honked a car tried to turn right on a no-right-on-red light. I feel bad for drivers turning right in this spot. The cars to the left of them get a green light and go. The bikes and pedestrians to the right of them get a green light and go. In nearly every intersection this means a car turning right can go, too. This intersection is unique that the turning lane has a red light straddled between greens. This guy had his hands gripped on either side of his steering wheel, his brows furrowed tight as he leaned forward over his steering wheel. You could tell he intended to turn. At this point, the piles of cyclists in front of me started yelling, “No turn! No turn! Red light! No turn!” But the guy kept crawling forward. I swerved around him and honked. If I were the one driving, I would have thought I could turn, too. What I don’t understand is when people start passing and hollering that the driver doesn’t look and notice the no turn and red light above. I’ve honked at this intersection a few times. Traffic continued to be high level insane all the way home. I am grateful to have encountered so many thoughtful observant folks in the following morning.