A "Moving" Experience...

Wow.  It's hard to believe it's been 4 months since the last post here.  At the same time, when I think about then and now, and the changes that have taken place in that time period, it's hard to believe it's been ONLY 4 months.  Needless to say, life has gotten in the way of writing.  My apologies to anyone who's checked in during my absence only to find nothing new here.  I've heard a rumor that there's one or two people out there who read this thing once in a while ... I may be mistaken, though, and it may only be the blog-bots.

I could tell you all about the past four months in such great detail that you'd bookmark the page for whenever you have a bout of insomnia ... but rather than put forth such effort where it would be certainly wasted, I'll TRY to make it brief ... and then get on with the business of returning to bicycle-themed word stuff.

Okay ... back in March, while in the midst of the 8-day weeks and 28-hour days of preparation for the annual mega-spectacular business event of the year for my Better-And-More-Attractive-Half (BAMAH), we discovered a major problem with the house we were then living in.  Although we loved the convenient location and "vintage charm" of the house, it had many issues.  And although we chose to be content and accept those issues, this new problem was the moldy dripping frosting on the insect-covered cupcake ... and thus we had to move ... but only after the afore-mentioned annual mega-spectacular business event of the year.

So ... in April, we searched for a new place that had no issues.  We found just such an issue-less place.  We put in our application and were accepted.  We gave notice to move.  We furiously packed and moved our stuff.  We purged other stuff that we wanted to neither pack nor move. (By the way, if you're about to move a box that you never unpacked from the previous move, I recommend NOT taking it to your new destination ... you'll never miss it, I promise!)  We fought with the previous landlord over deposit return ... and mostly won.  I completed two large client projects in the middle of the moving process.  By the end of May, we were done with the move.

The month of June consisted of recovery and unpacking (where in the world did I put that box with my favorite coffee mug?), along with finding our way around the new digs (only 6 miles south of where we were before, but still a new town for us) and developing the strategic plan for the daily routine (where to take the dogs for walks, drive time for work, where to get food, groceries, and so on).  Once the basic daily necessities were handled, I was then able to begin exploring the new and different bicycle-riding amenities offered within our new community.

And that brings me to the here and now ... and back to the notion that I may actually have something to say about bikes and stuff.

It's interesting how life places you in different positions, forcing you to view the world around you from a new perspective, both mentally and physically.  Riding from point A to point B over a period of time builds a certain image in one's mind.  When you then suddenly start riding from point C to point A, the whole landscape looks very different.  And point B, which you've seen hundreds of times from the previous perspective at the end of the ride, but is now crossed in the middle, looks absolutely alien and quite insignificant. (More on that in an upcoming post)  If you'd told me 5 months ago that today I'd be walking down and then climbing back up a set of 109 stairs twice a day just to take the dogs out for their "business" trips, I would have said you were crazy ... and yet, that's what I now do (more on that later, too!).  By the way, these are good things ... just to be clear!

As a creature who appreciates a certain degree of routine in order to feel "normal", it can be difficult for me to accept large changes that affect how I do everything in the course of a "normal" day.  I do always adapt, however, and everything works out in the end.  This time, though ...I have to say there's something different ... it just feels a whole lot more "right" to me after having a little time to settle into the new environment and daily process here.  Almost everything feels better here ... more "normal", despite the many changes and life modifications that were required to make the move.  It's not ALL perfect ... but then the world around us never is ... which is why we continue to seek balance with the imperfections on a daily basis.

I hope all is well in your world!  Summer is here ... enjoy the ride!  More news and reviews coming very soon ...

Progress?

In a recent post, I mentioned the ongoing closure of our longest bike bath due to freeway and levee construction. As you may recall, on January 5, I saw this:

Bike path STILL closed, several days after Dec 30, as promised by this sign.

Well ... I gave them another 5 days, being that there were holidays and such. Maybe the construction people were still recovering from that New Year's Eve champagne, combined with all of the heavily spiked egg nog and holiday turkey/ham/pie/fruitcake/what-have-you. Today, January 10, which is 5 days later than my previous visit on January 5, I rolled up on the Funqapillar to see this:

Still closed ... but in a different way.

Although the path is still closed, the concrete barrier has been removed, along with the improperly dated closure notification sign. Replacing them is some red tape that says "DANGER" and a rather non-descript sign that simply says the bike path, its title now reduced to that of a mere bike "lane", is closed. No reopening date is offered, suggested, or implied. It also says the bike path lane is closed "AHEAD", which is confusing, since the DANGER tape is blocking (and therefore closing) the path lane right here where the sign is, not further ahead as the sign implies.

I'm not sure whether this change is an indication of progress or merely a horribly unstylish new look for the same infuriating closure. I do see path ahead ... but it seems to now be called a "lane", which could imply that it's being reduced in size ... or it could mean the construction crew can't tell the difference and just grabbed the closest sign that had the word "BIKE" on it.

Whatever the case, it's all making me feel, as Jon Lovitz used to say in the old Subway commercials, "ANXIOUS."

Eat Fresh!

If this part of the lane path were to be reopened, it would instantly connect me to several additional riding options. More paved paths, lots of trails and fire roads, plus horses and cows to visit ... all just up the lane path a tiny bit further. Without the lane path connection, it means a very long detour starting nowhere close, using busy streets that don't even have a bike lane, or even worse ... DRIVING to somewhere else to ride, which just somehow seems wrong to me.

It's been more than three years now since all of this started (January 2009), and since the full bike path has been open. It's close now ... or so it seems ... but I'm feeling impatient to have the barriers removed once and for all.

I shouldn't complain, really. After all, I have beaches and beautiful weather to ride in all year long. Just longing for some of those really long uninterrupted-by-streets-and-traffic rides I used to be able to take. Soon enough ... soon enough.

Until then, there are other topics on the way ... product reviews, photos, and more! Stay tuned!

WTF? Or... When Balance Shifts to the Dark Side

Zen (and much of this here blogular posting) is about the pursuit of balance, which by definition, is an even distribution of forces to create equilibrium. Yeah, okay. Since yesterday's post portrayed a most beautiful, nearly perfect day of weather and riding (rather heavy on the NICE side of the scale), I should have expected today's ride would include some not-so-perfect attributes (the NOT NICE side of the scale).

I did not prepare myself.

The weather appeared just as nice as yesterday, dare I say, even better. Little to no wind, sunny, and very warm. Wanting more of yesterday's beautiful ride, I grabbed the camera and shot out the door.

The ride began nicely, and I headed down to the beach to get on the bike path, deciding today to head inland for a change of scenery. I hadn't gone that way for a while, focusing more on the beautiful coastline area of late. As I proceeded down the path, a bit of headwind picked up, making the pedaling slightly harder, but not enough to be unpleasant ... and I figured that would mean I'd have a tailwind for the return trip later. Remember that statement, okay?

As I got to the 5 Freeway underpass, I found this:

WTF?  Someone has a faulty calendar

I checked my cell phone to confirm that it is indeed January 5th.  According to this sign, the path should be open now, since it's AFTER December 30. But still, sadly, the path is closed ... blocked by a concrete barrier ... preventing me from pursuing my chosen route inland to see the cows and horses further up the path. It's not so much that my route was interupted, but that this bike path has had one closure or another since January 2009. It's irritating, because this path, when not closed with construction, provides a continuous 8-mile stretch of riding with no streets or traffic to contend with, and connects Dana Point and San Juan Capistrano, as well as Mission Viejo via a secondary connected path. When it's closed, getting from one town to another requires navigating some fairly busy streets with drivers who aren't aware of the no texting or talking on the cell phone laws, always in a hurry, and rather annoyed by cyclists in general. It's certainly possible, but not nearly as pleasant, nor as fun, since the ride is mostly about staying safe and avoiding obstacles, rather than enjoying the scenery.  Anyway ... here's why this part of the path is currently closed:

5 Freeway off-ramp construction and Levee reinforcement

I understand this need to be done ... but does it have to take so long?

Okay ... so I didn't get to ride where I really wanted to go. No big deal. Lots of other things to see. I turned around and headed back toward Dana Point and the beach area. Along the way, I discovered that I was riding into a headwind ... again. Yes, that's right. It shifted while I stopped to take construction photos. Headwind riding inland ... and headwind again riding to the beach. Go figure. Looks like the universe required more effort from me today, since it was so perfect and easy yesterday.

Still being positive, I stopped mid way back to the beach, remembering that one reason I wanted to head inland is to see the mountains. As beautiful as the ocean is, I never tire of seeing this:

Saddleback Mountains in the distance ... on clear days, this is breathtaking

After the mountain viewing stop, I turned around to head up the little hill out of the park where I took the photo. I hadn't downshifted from the big front chainring on the way in, so I pedaled soft and gently moved the lever ... and then something very bad happened.  Chainsuck.  What is chainsuck? It's when your chain sticks to the bigger chainring as you attempt to shift to a smaller one, and then wraps itself around the ring, jams into the chainstay and basically stops all forward motion. There are many causes for this ... shifting improperly, bad derailleur adjustment, generally being stupid about when you shift, dirty inflexible chain, or any combination. In my case, it is fair to say my chain wasn't freshly cleaned ... but it wasn't completely dirty, either ... and the bike is only 45 days old, so the chain can't be completely fouled already. However, I hadn't wiped it down from yesterday, and there was a bit of sand in some of the links. Probably more likely is that I attempted to shift with too much pressure on the pedals while going uphill with a slightly dirty chain, and in a slightly odd combination of middle front ring and small rear cog. I could also just be an idiot when it comes to shifting. In any case, freeing the chain was no big deal. However, it was after freeing the chain that my worst nightmare presented itself. When the chain jammed into my chainstay, it caused ... horror of horrors ... the first scratch on my Hunqapillar. I nearly sobbed right there on the path:

Damn you, Chainsuck!!!

GREAT!!!!! Now I have to go and get some gray touch-up paint or fingernail polish to fill the scratch. Well, there had to be a first scratch, right?  There always is ... and it's painful, but I'll get over it.

I picked myself up off the gravel from my fetal position, and got back out on the path, heading toward the beach and then home. I'd gone a couple of miles and started to shift down to the smallest ring in preparation for the steepest climb when I noticed I could not shift to that ring. WTF?  This is not good. Why can I not shift to the small ring? The shift lever would move all the way down until it could physically move no further, but the derailleur would not move far enough to guide the chain over the small ring.  I scratched my head for a moment as I got concerned about my new bike having issues. I thought perhaps the front derailleur got bent from the earlier chainsuck. Nope ... looks okay, and straight. And it can't possibly be the shift cable. If anything, the cable would stretch, not get shorter. I noticed there was considerable tension on the shift cable with the lever all the way down, and concluded that the only way for this to be happening is that the entire derailleur had gotten shifted up a few millimeters during the chainsuck incident, which would cause the shift cable to to be pulled tighter, which would then cause the derailleur cage to be limited in how far inward it could travel. I took a look ... and sure enough, it was sitting quite high above the chainrings. The clamp had shifted up on the seat tube.

First a huge scratch, and now THIS?  Damn you, Chainsuck! 

I got out my toolkit, loosened the clamp and re-positioned the derailleur ... then I was back on the road. Glad I always carry my toolkit ...

Riding back up through the park hills toward home, I began to relax again, and noticed how blue the sky was ... how clear the harbor view ... the cool trees in the park ... and the ride went from headwinds in both directions, path closures, chainsuck, and derailleur bumping to this:

Bright green sprawling pine

Clear sky and blue water

A wisp of clouds over a clear coastal view

Gnarly tree branches

More gnarly tree branches ... amazing, the shapes they take as they grow

And once again ... balance is restored. In the words of the great philosopher Jed, "Y'all come back, now ... y'hear?"

Something Woolly This Way Comes...

 
 
I'm never very good at waiting ... even though my life involves quite a bit of that very thing.  Perhaps in a past life I was a rather impatient being, and thus it is my purpose in this life to learn the virtue.  I'm getting there, but it's not easy.

Since beginning to ride a bike again in my adult life, I've learned a lot about what my personal style is ... yes, in terms of what I wear, but more importantly, how and what I ride.  When I finally got a really good vision of the kind of bike that best suits me, I began the search ... and found "the one".  Then I had to acquire the funds ... which took a very long time.  Then I had to order it.  Since then I've been waiting.  And waiting. 

When I ordered it, I was told it would be three weeks.  Three weeks later, I inquired about the status and was told it would be another two-to-three weeks.  Three weeks after that, I called and inquired again and was informed that there was an oversight and the frame had not been painted yet ... so another two weeks.  Two weeks after that, eight weeks into my three-week order, I called again.  This time brought good news ... it was done and almost ready to ship!  Later that very day, I received email confirmation of shipment and tracking information. 

Finally, it's on the way ... and due to arrive at my door tomorrow!  I'll post the details and photos of assembly, but for now, here is a small sample of what will appear on the head tube:

Yes ... it's a woolly mammoth, basking in the sun ... with trilobites clearing the path.  I imagine there wasn't much that could stand in the way of the woolly mammoth in its day ... and that is exactly the style of this bike.  It's designed to go anywhere, not in a hurry, but to explore and enjoy.  More soon!!

 

 

Why Are There Always Hills?

Okay ... here's a secret that only anyone who knows me or has ever ridden with me knows:  I'm not in love with hills.  Actually, I really don't like them at all.  Truth be told, I often HATE hills.  Maybe you've surmised that I'm not a good climber.  It's true, although I'm sure it's more mental than physical.  In the pursuit of higher consciousness, I have tried to see them as challenges, rather than enemies.  I have tried to see them as good ... good in the way that studying a subject you have no interest in whatsoever is good ... because you're supposed to learn something valuable from them and become a better person in the process.  Climbing hills makes one stronger, yes?  Climbing hills brings one a sense of confidence, yes?  Conquering hills brings one the experience of overcoming ones weaknesses, yes?

Yes, all of those things are true ... and yes, I've learned and grew stronger and became more confident and overcame weaknesses.  Is that all grammatically correct?  But still ... I don't like hills.  And here's the real issue I have:  there are ALWAYS hills.  I live in a place where I have a choice.  Either start the ride up a biggish hill and return coasting back down ... or start out descending and finish with a big hill near the ride's end.  Easy right?  Take the hill first and finish easy.  Not so fast ...

If I start out descending, I'm heading toward the beach, where the scenery is beautiful ... lots of nice smooth bike lanes along the coast ... breathtaking views of the ocean ... the perfect environment for riding ... but I always know I have a very long climb back home, and need to reserve some energy for it.  If I start out climbing, I'm heading inland ... away from the beach ... away from the beautiful scenery ... but an easy finish to my ride.  It's always a struggle to decide.

So ... what would YOU do?

I've often dreamed of living in a place where the earth is flat and only has wind and rain when I'm not riding. It would be perfect, right?  Then again, where I live is a truly beautiful place, and I am constantly amazed that I'm just looking out my window or down the road at what I see, and not in a photograph or piece of museum artwork.  If the terrain were flat, it just wouldn't be the same.  It would be rather ... well, flat.  I wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

So, rather than continue to complain, which I'm certain I'll return to at some point in the not-too-distant future, I'm trying a new approach this month.  If I ride to the beach, I'll force myself to forget the hill on the ride back, and essentially consider the ride to be complete when I've toured the coastline of my community.  The ride back, including the hills, is merely my commute home ... not really part of the actual ride itself.  I can pause before leaving the beach and say "Ahhhhh ... that was a great ride ... now it's time to go home."  And if I ride inland, I'll make the ride about finding something new and different in the surrounding area.  A pair of crazy squirrels, perhaps, who are, in reality, terrorists planted among us to leap out at the exact split second we ride by, thus causing us to crash and reconsider our capitalist way of life.  Or maybe there's a new Starbucks or Peet's somewhere along the way ... yeah, coffee is always good!  Then, when I'm coasting downhill on my crashed bike with a stomach full of coffee, I'll have new things to think about and not wish I'd ridden to the beach instead.

Think it will help?  In the mean time ... if you enjoy humorous looks at people and bicycles, I understand there's a new book from none other than the Bike Snob, of BikeSnobNYC blog fame.  I haven't read it, but I can imagine it's worth a look.  He always has an interesting take on "normal" life.

 Hope you're all having a great Bike Month!!