Why I Wear A Helmet

If you want to start a fight in the cycling community, simply bring up the topic of helmets, and then offer an opinion regarding whether or not you believe they should be worn at all times when riding a bike.  It doesn't really matter on which side of the fence you choose to sit.  Those from the other side will immediately and fiercely attack your beliefs and inform you that you are the biggest idiot alive.

If you believe helmets SHOULD be worn, you'll get people who tell you the scientific studies in favor of helmet use are politically skewed and part of a massive helmet industry conspiracy to make us all buy them, and that helmets don't really protect you, and that helmet laws only serve to dissuade potential cyclists from riding.

If you believe in NOT wearing a helmet, people will scream at you for setting a poor example for the kids, and tell you how irresponsible and selfish you are, and they'll tell you all about the time they fell over in the driveway and lived to tell the story because they were wearing a helmet.

It also seems the media world loves to propagate the fight by always letting you know the cyclist wasn't wearing a helmet when they were killed by a motorist ... as though they might have lived through being hit by that pickup truck whose driver was both drunk and texting at 50mph, if only they'd been more responsible and worn their helmet.  The media would have you believe the vehicle driver was the real victim, and that the cyclist's demise was obviously their own fault, not that of the driver who "never saw them".  The media will imply that the helmet would have not only protected their entire body from the high-speed collision with a multi-ton vehicle, but it would likely have made them completely visible to the driver, therefore helping to avoid the accident altogether.

Personally, I'm not sure where the line should be drawn.  I can relate to arguments on both sides.  I've actually fallen in the driveway while attempting to unclip from my pedal (back when I used clipless pedals) and felt my helmeted head smack the pavement.  I've often wondered whether or not I would have experienced some kind of injury if it was my bare noggin, rather than a helmet-covered one ... but then I realize the helmet adds some size to my head, and it very well may have been just the helmet to hit the pavement, and a bare head might have never touched it.  At the same time, I've tripped over things many times in my life while simply walking from one place to another, and have suffered no real head trauma.  That being said, I've never crashed at high speed, and have no experience with what happens there.  Also ... if I understand it correctly, the official testing for bicycle helmet certification is basically only good for low-speed incidents that involve something hitting your head from the top ... which seems a rather unlikely scenario.  And even if it does offer some protection for a portion of your head, it certainly won't protect the rest of your body from a high-speed auto collision.  The odds of surviving that are low, helmet or not.

So .... my official position is that it should be optional, but perhaps recommended, depending on the environment and type of riding taking place.  I don't think they should be required, because there are many circumstances where they just don't make any sense for casual riding ... but I do think they serve an important function, and should be used when there's a potential risk.  How's that for taking a firm stance?

Nevertheless, I do choose to wear a helmet when riding.  Even if I'm not entirely convinced it will save my life, it does give me a little added mental security, as well as giving my quite significant other a sense that I'm being safe.  But most importantly, it gives me something I can only get from wearing a helmet.  You know what I'm talking about ... it's that special thing that tells everyone "Why, yes, I did just finish an epic bout of cycling."

Post-Ride Helmet Hair ... the BEST reason to wear a helmet!

Yes ... there it is ... the REAL reason to wear a helmet.  Helmet hair.  It saves hundreds of dollars every year by giving you a hairstyle that you could only otherwise get from a stylist.  Forget the politics ... do it for the style!!

Old Dudes Roll!!

It was pretty cool that an older guy, Alexandre Vinokourov, won the gold medal in the London Olympic Road Cycling event.  Granted, 38 isn't exactly OLD, but it's 11 years older than the average Olympic athlete, who's 26.8 years old.  For professional athletes, it's quite a feat for anyone in any sport to achieve the pinnacle of greatness at such an age.

"Get outta my way, punks"

Likewise, Kristin Armstrong won the women's Time Trial (for the second time, mind you) ... and she's also 38 years old ... the oldest person to ever win the gold in that event.

"Don't hate me because I'm STILL much faster than you"

The rest of the competitors were younger ... and yet somehow these "aging" athletes proved that riding a bike isn't just for kids.  To have both men AND women's events won by people who are almost 40 is pretty cool.

And ... I think it's inspired a lot of people to get out there and ride.  If two near-40-year-olds can win Olympic gold riding a bike, then certainly those in their 50's, 60', 70's and beyond can at least have some fun doing it, right?  True 'dat.

I'm all for people riding and having fun, and I've noticed a greatly increased number of riders who appear to be at least as old as I am (48, as of this writing), and many who are much older.  And there seems to be another "inspired" side effect of the Olympics.  Many of these new post-30's riders have decided that it's "GO" time ... imagining themselves in pursuit of Olympic Gold ... and anyone on the road is their competition.

They got themselves a race bike, race clothes, race helmet, race shoes, race computer, and carry at least two water bottles at all times.  They may not yet understand how everything works, but they're ready to race.  They'll race anyone ... other old dudes on bikes, kids on cruisers, skateboarders, in-line skaters, dog-walkers, pedestrians ... I've even seen a dude racing someone in an electric wheelchair.  And, of course, they race ME ... an aging dude on a non-racing bike, wearing non-racing clothes, and obviously not in a hurry for anything, which I assume makes me appear to be the weak member of the herd, and therefore easy to take down.  This is quite entertaining to me, as well as a little frustrating, since I worked very hard to overcome my desire to race anyone who might pass me, just to prove that I'm not getting old.

Today's race was "brung" by a man who began his approach at the first of three stoplights in the last five miles of today's Ocean Institute Decade-And-A-Half Everyday Epic ride.  I was stopped at the light when he rolled up, gave me and my bike a once-over scan, and continued on, coming to a stop well into the crosswalk and nearly into the intersection to capture the very best possible sprint starting position, as he struggled to unclip his shoe from the pedal.  When the light turned green, he jumped on the pedal, fumbled while attempting to clip in the second shoe, and then proceeded in a wobbly standing sprint as fast as possible away from the intersection.  A quick look back was given to ensure that his breakaway was successful, then he sat down hard on his saddle and began his somewhat slower, rather bow-legged seated pedaling style, which was necessary to circumvent the large round protrusion in the lower half of his jersey, no doubt a reward for the years of beer consumption (I have one of my own that I swear will one day disappear).  I pedaled on at my usual slower-than-most pace, and found myself gaining on him, then passing him within about half a mile.  I rode on to the next stoplight, where it began again ... in exactly the same manner.  And then AGAIN at the third stoplight.  It might have continued, but at the fourth stoplight, he turned into a coffee shop, and I rode the last mile home to likewise drink some coffee.

Perhaps it will be "ON" again tomorrow ...

DIY Lace-Keepers!!

If you ride with normal shoes of the non-clipping-in/non-mechanically-attached-to-the-pedal variety, you've no doubt had occasion to question the safety of a shoe with laces.  Laces can easily get caught in your chainring, especially if they come untied from all of your furious pedaling.  This can be very dangerous, bringing the ride to an abrupt halt, and potentially causing injury if you can't find a way to stop yourself from falling over.  This presents a problem, since there are lots of great shoes that would be great bike shoes if the darn laces didn't get in the way.  Fortunately, I haven't caught a lace in my chainring since I was a very young lad ... but the memory of the resulting tumble of humility still haunts me whenever selecting a shoe for a ride.

Some shoes that are designed with bike riding in mind come with some kind of built-in lace keeper, in the form of an elastic loop to tuck the laces in, or a Velcro strap that covers the tied laces.  But what about all the great shoes that don't have that option, since the designer really hadn't thought about bicycling as a priority for the design?  You can buy aftermarket elastic laces similar to the Keen sandal style that have an adjustable clip.  They seem to work pretty well on shoes they were designed for, but I've tried them on regular shoes and found them to be less than perfect for comfort and adjust-ability on good ol' regular shoes.  So ... what else can one do?  Well ... there's a cheap and incredibly easy way to solve the problem.

I present to you ... DIY Lace-Keepers!!!  Yay!!

Start with a normal lace-up type shoe, preferably a matching pair, unless you have a "unique" style requirement.  Here's a pair of light hiking shoes as an example (great for all-around adventure riding/exploring, or whenever you might want to both ride and walk in one pair of shoes):

See how the laces are a bit on the long side?  They're great laces, though ... the kind that stay tied ... so I don't want to change them, but even when tied, they're a little long, and I don't have the patience to double-tie or find a way to shorten them.

I was thinking it would be great if these shoes had some loops to tuck the tied laces into, and thought perhaps some Velcro strips would work.  I happened to have some extra Velcro ... it comes in a roll that can be cut into pieces of any length, and is available at almost any hardware store.  So I cut two strips about four inches long and placed them under the laces where they cross below the top tie location.

Velcro strips cut to length

Strips placed under laces ... second crossing point from top

 After tying the laces as usual, I grabbed all of the tied portion, placed it over the Velcro pointing toward the toe, and wrapped the Velcro around the whole thing.

Velcro strip wrapped around tied laces

 I found this system to be very secure, keeping the laces out of the way while also helping to keep them tied.  I was a little concerned that it might look strange ... but looking at the finished product, I think it looks perfectly fine, although something a little narrower might look nicer.  Of course, you could also get some color-coordinated Velcro, if you prefer ... which I might just do, now that I know it works so well.

It's amazingly simple ... it's incredibly inexpensive ... and it makes any lace-up shoe a million times safer for bike riding.  Try it for yourself and let me know what you think.  And if you have any other genius lace-keeping tricks, please share them!

Back again soon ... be safe out there!!

A Little Climbing Music, Please ...

As much as I love riding a bike, I've never been great at climbing hills. Okay ... I've never even been GOOD at it. But I've come to appreciate them for what they do ... which is to make me stronger and a better all-around rider. In my current abode, it is impossible for me to go for a ride of any substantial distance without encountering at least one substantial hill ... and by "substantial", I mean LONG and STEEP ...and so I've been getting better at it, having accepted that it's a fact of life if I want to ride.

I've been working to rid my head of the thoughts which always enter just prior to the hill. They go something like this: 

"Oh, crap ... here comes the hill ... I hate hills ... I hope I can make it all the way this time without having to go back for my lungs."

Those kinds of thoughts only serve to make the hill experience much worse than it actually is, so I've been re-training my brain to think differently ... like this:

"Okay ... this set of hills is getting easier, because I'm getting better at climbing ... last time was much easier than the time before, and this time will be even better."

I've also been offering myself some positive reinforcement ... like this:

"You are strong like bull ... you have legs like ox ... if you were a bowler, you would do it overhand ... hills will flatten at the threat of your approach ... you are the most interesting cycler in the world ... you don't always drink beer, but when you do, you prefer Guinness Black Lager ... stay thirsty, my friend."

It works ... sometimes ... sort of. 

I'm also now learning that I really need to be relaxed in order to control my breathing and get into a good groove on a long steep hill. Sitting back and making sure every limb isn't tense makes a huge difference in the level of perceived effort.

I noticed a funny thing the other day while climbing one of my usual hills toward home. My brain was working hard to make my body relax, and the way it was doing that was to start singing. Not actually out loud, since heavy breathing and singing don't generally combine well .. no, this was mental singing. And not just singing any old song ... but adapting the current thought into revised lyrics for popular tunes ... you know, Weird Al style.

As I approached the first part of the climb, I remembered that it's the steepest portion ... and my brain began to sing to the tune of a song you may remember from Sheryl Crow ...

Cartoon Sheryl Crow

However ... the song was originally written and performed by this guy: 

This Cat can sing ... and write songs and stuff

Yes, that's Cat Stevens ... who was born with the name Steven Demetre Georgiou ... but is now known as Yusuf Islam, although performances may advertise a combination: 

Steven Cat Demetre Yusuf Georgiou Stevens Islam, circa 2011

Anyway ... in case you haven't already guessed, the tune to which my mental singing was adhering itself is "The First Cut Is The Deepest".  Cat Stevens wrote and first recorded the song in the mid 1960's and put it on his first album in 1967. That first album that was a complete failure, after which he sold the song for 30 British pounds to another artist who made it a huge hit ... and it was later recorded by four other artists, for whom it was also a hit, including the aforementioned Sheryl Crow. Forty years after he recorded the first demo of the song, Cat received back to back ASCAP Songwriter of the Year Awards for it in 2005 and 2006. Just a little trivia for you ... 

Back to the ride ... my revised lyrics went something like this:

"The first hill is the steepest ... baby, I know ... the first hill is the steepest ...
If you're breathing really heavy, just curse ... 'cuz gettin' off and walkin' is worse ...."

Oddly enough ... by the time the new lyrics had solidified, the steepest portion of the hill was over ... and I was pleasantly surprised at the seemingly smaller effort expended. Hmmm ... could that be the answer? Don't think about the hill ... just make up corny lyrics to pop songs while climbing ... and the hills will pass like a flat road?  

So ... the next day, I tried it again. This time, I enlisted the help of a more aggressive musical force .... yes, I mean Metallica:

If these guys can't get you up the hill, you should turn around and ride the other way ...

I chose the most perfect Metallica song for my climb ... "Enter Sandman". Of course, the words were changed just a little ... into this:

"Climb .. like a goat ................. not .. like a boat ............
Heeeeeeyyyy, Old Man ....... Climb that freakin' hill again!"

And with a good dose of metal head bobbing thrown in for good measure, the hill was thus conquered.

What can I say ... as an aging music dude, I'm shocked I never thought of this sooner! Hills will never be the same again ...

The Everyday Epic Ride

It's been a few days since my last post ... mainly because the weather's been great, and accompanying the great weather has been a week of great rides. Nothing spectacular or "epic" for any particular reason ... just great rides. However, spending a little more time riding has taken a little more time away from non-work-related writing ... hence the lack of blogular postage. My apologies for anyone who waits with great anticipation for each of my posts (last I checked there is actually one person who reads them).

In thinking about the great rides that are great for no particular reason, I was trying to come up with some wonderful bit of prose to share the experience with you ... but nothing came to mind, apart from the small group of gray squirrels who were intent on taunting me by waiting just at the edge of the road and then jumping up to make me think I'd hit them, then laughing as they ran away because they made me stop. Of course, there are no photos to document this ... but it really did happen ... twice.

At the same time, I was thinking about the bike-related blogs out there. One of my favorite daily reads, EcoVelo, has gone away. It's sad, because there was always something interesting to read there that had nothing to do with any sort of competitive, training, or epic riding ... just great photos and articles about everyday riding and gear. There is another (for which I won't mention the name) that had a similar focus ... but now seems to be more about getting into race bikes, group training rides, and entering epic long-distance events. Not interesting to me. Don't get me wrong ... I have nothing against sport/competitive cycling. I have an enormous amount of respect for the sport and for those who are involved in it. It's really hard work, and really rewarding to complete some of the events out there ... pushing yourself to the limit to achieve big goals is a wonderful way to spend some healthy effort. For me ... it's just not why I ride ... and, with all due respect to the many people who write about it, it's not something I want to read about every day.

Bombing down a steep hill on a race bike training ride ... great for many ... not for me

I suppose the reason there isn't more reading material available for "everyday" cycling is that it's pretty bland. I mean, in comparison to the ride report of climbing near-vertical mountain roads until you vomit and descending at 70mph, nearly sliding off a cliff and breaking your collarbone, a description of riding to the beach, eating some lunch, and picking up a few things at the grocery store on the way home sounds pretty tame. Nevertheless, there are probably more people who participate in the tame than in the epic ... and I am making it my mission to bring excitement to the world of the everyday cycler.

With this in mind, I propose a new naming protocol for our everyday rides. Here's the scoop:

Have you noticed that all of the "epic" rides have some kind of special moniker that describes its length? For example, a ride of 100 miles is called a "century", which makes it sound a lot more "epic" than simply saying it's a 100-mile ride. After all, when we hear the word "century", we think about a span of time greater than most of us will live ... so using it to describe a bike ride is like saying "this ride is so long and so difficult, you may not survive", which is somehow attractive to the thrill seekers. A "metric century" sounds even more "epic", even though it's technically much shorter, being only 100 kilometers. The REALLY epic rides are the "double century" rides ... 200 miles (or kilometers for the metric version). Well ... the everyday cycler's version of the epic ride could be called a "decade". Think about it. If a century is 100 miles, a "decade" would be 10 miles. That's enough for an everyday ride, right? If you need more, you could do a "double decade" for 20 miles ... or even a "triple decade" for 30 miles. It sure makes the normal bland everyday ride sound more exciting, doesn't it?

Of course, every big epic ride has some kind of additional verbiage attached to describe where the ride is, or who sponsors it, or to make it sound more torturous ... like the "Hell's Gate 100" ... or the "SoCal Double Century". Well that's easy to incorporate into the everyday epic ride title. How about The Doheny Double Decade?

Scene from the Epic "Doheny Double Decade"

We could have "The Heritage Park Hill Climb Half Decade" ... and "The Aliso Creek Trail Triple Decade".

How is this NOT an epic ride?

Trail-side scenery is not always appreciated during a competitive "event" ride.

And let's not forget "The Wind Tunnel From Hell". Of course, almost any everyday ride could be turned into an event ... like the "Starbucks Grab & Go Epic Double-Latte Half Decade With Whipped Cream".

First leg of the "Starbucks Grab & Go Epic Double-Latte Half Decade With Whipped Cream" ride.

The beauty of these EveryDay Epics is that they aren't competitive ... unless you want them to be. They don't cost anything to enter ... aside from your time. They don't require any special training. You don't have to wear any special clothing ... unless you want to. You're always the winner of the event, and the prize is whatever you reward yourself with after the ride. And you can participate at any time, since there's no schedule. You can even stop halfway for lunch and continue later ... with no time penalty. If you don't go as far as you planned, you can simply rename the ride ... a decade is then just a half-decade, but no less "epic" in nature. You can ride alone or with others ... and everyone wins, unless you decide to make it competitive, in which case I suggest the person who has the most fun (determined by best "woohoohoo" when crossing the finish line) is declared the winner. Take a camera and start building a photo album to remember your epic events. Put on a helmet video camera, speed up the video, and add a heavy metal soundtrack for posting on YouTube ... just remember to not giggle like a little girl on camera (or at least mute the audio track).

Yes, it's very exciting to think about those big epic cycling events ... and if you're truly into doing it, then my helmet is off to you. But if you're new to cycling ... or feel somehow that you're not a "real" cyclist because that's all you see in the media ... don't worry. As Forrest Gump's mom used to say ... "Epic is as Epic does". In other words ... make your own epic ... every day. Go have fun. Give your 10-mile ride an epic name ... call it the Decade of Death, even if you're just riding to the grocery store and back (traffic can be dangerous, right?). Remember ... you're not a "cyclist" ... you're a "cycler" ... and "cyclers" make their own adventures in the everyday ride!

So let's start a new trend ... Everyday Epic Rides. Healthy, happy, fun. Where is your epic ride today?

The 40-Minute Weather Wheel

I try to keep an eye on the weather forecast during the Winter months, as it seems to change a lot from day to day. It's not uncommon for the local weather guys and girls to disagree on what's coming later in the week, and there may not be a consensus until the day before a planned event. And by "event", I mean "tomorrow's ride".

The forecast for today was supposed to be partly-to-mostly cloudy in the morning, followed by thickening cloud cover in the early afternoon, developing into light occasional rain showers later in the day ... windy all day long with strong gusts at times ... and chilly (for us, anyway). That worked for me. I figured I could go out for a nice long-ish ride in the morning and be home long before any showers started. I'm not exactly fond of strong wind, but I can handle it, so no big deal ... and I can just dress a little warmer when it's chilly ... but windy AND rainy AND chilly isn't my idea of good riding weather. Riding into a cold headwind with blowing cold rain? Nope.

Okay ... so this morning appeared to be as predicted. Mostly cloudy with the sun poking through here and there, and a little chilly. I got dressed and got out the door. As I rode down to the Harbor, I definitely felt the wind pushing back at me, which was nice in a way, because the direction meant I'd have a tailwind on the ride home ... but it made the 50-degree air temperature feel more like the mid-30's, and my fingers were getting very cold. No matter, though ... I always warm up as I ride on. I noticed some darker clouds beginning to roll in, but didn't think too much about it because there was also some blue sky showing:

Dark low clouds AND blue sky over the Harbor

As I began to leave the Harbor and head down past the beach to the trail, I started to feel a few drops of rain. My head told me it wasn't actually going to rain ... because how could ALL of the weather people be wrong? Well ... they were wrong. The few drops quickly became actual rain. Cold ... windy ... and now RAIN. I turned into  a small covered area at Doheny Beach to see if it would pass before I continued on. It did pass ... rather quickly, and treated me to some interesting sky images.

Doheny Beach sky

When the rain stopped, I decided I wasn't having a lot of fun ... and since I was now cold and wet, it might be a good idea to head home. I rode back past the beach and up the hills toward the house, stopping to look at the sky again. It was quite a sight, almost like two completely different skies split down the middle over the Harbor. To the left, it was dark, thick, gloomy clouds. To the right, bright blue, sunny, clear sky.

View to the left ... dark clouds

View to the right ... bright, sunny, clear blue

As I continued toward home, the clouds went away, and the sky became completely clear and sunny.

This all took place in a 40-minute time period. It was cloudy when I started ... then turned dark and started to rain ... and then became completely clear and sunny. How strange this Winter weather can be!

Had I thought there was any chance of rain, I could have prepared better and put on some rain-worthy clothing ... and I would have then continued on with the ride. But three weather people AND the weather dot com folks ALL said no rain until late afternoon. Their collective score for today: FAIL.

As I write this post, an hour after getting home, the weather wheel has turned again ... the sky has gone from sunny, blue, and clear to dark and cloudy, and it is starting to rain. I guess it can't be sunny and warm EVERY day ... even in Southern California!

Here's to a better tomorrow ... hope your Winter weather hasn't hindered your riding! More reviews in the works!

What Does Your Dog Do While You're Out Riding?

If you love dogs like I do, and have one or more at home, you sometimes feel sad that they miss out on the interesting things you see while you're out exploring on the bike. Photos just don't cut it for dogs ... and, although they pretend to be interested, I'm confident they don't truly understand what I'm saying when I tell them about the horses I saw.

Some people actually take their dogs out on the bike ... in a special basket equipped with a dog bed ... or running along the side on a leash. I've even seen some very clever contraptions that attach to a bike with a safety-release mechanism on a short pole that keeps your dog at the right distance from the wheels but breaks free in the event an accident occurs.

That sounds like good fun, and I've thought about trying some of those methods of dog/bike accompaniment ... but the truth is, my little dog whines even in the comfy car, so she probably would freak out in a bike basket. And my bigger dog ... well, let's face it, I'd just slow him down. So ... I take them out for walks a few times each day ... and, sadly, let them stay home when I ride.

But I often wonder what they do while I'm out riding. Yesterday, my return home offered a clue, at least for my smaller dog, Libby:

"Back so soon?  I was having such a nice dream ...."

It appears she jumps into our bed, rearranges the pillows to suit her needs, and then lounges among them for a nice nap. For some silly reason, I thought my leaving was a sad time for them ... but apparently I was mistaken. I have to admit, though ... it was kinda nice to (even mistakenly) think they might be missing me ... at least a little bit. Oh, well ... I guess that just means I don't have to worry about them when I take an extra long ride ... as long as I make it back in time for their dinner ... now THAT would be a problem!

What does your dog do while you're out riding?

Open Trails and New Friends

It rained here Monday ... a LOT. It was the most rain we've had in months. We really needed it, so no big deal, but generally the day after such a storm means bike lanes and paths full of leaves, dirt, and other assorted debris. So ... with that in mind and the weather forecast of "Windy & High Surf Advisory", my plan was to get out yesterday for a brief ride to go see the aforementioned high surf and then come back to do some work that's starting to pile up.

Well ... you know how it goes when you "plan" something.

The "high surf" wasn't really all that high. It was nice ... beautiful as always ... but not exactly the "wow, look at that" I was expecting. I rode on ... down to the other beach area, and was just about to head for home when I thought I'd take a look at the path entrance at the far end of the beach. If you remember from a previous post (along with its subsequent but still previous-to-this-one post, when it rains, the path entrance is usually flooded, like this:

Previous visit:  Flooded from recent light rain ... no passing without waders.

Since the rain yesterday was rather heavy, I was fully expecting to see a massively flooded path entrance. To my great surprise, I found this:

Yesterday:  NOT flooded after heaviest rain in months ... ummmm, huh?

Well ... since the path was open for the first time in over a week, I felt I just had to continue on. After all, who knows when it will be flooded again? The ride felt good, even with the fair bit of wind that was semi-accurately predicted by the weather-predicting people ... so I thought I should go a little farther to see what was happening with that path lane closure I wrote about in another previous post. If you remember, it was supposed to be open after December 30, but was still closed on January 5, and STILL closed, PLUS demoted from "path" to "lane" on January 10:

January 5 ... still closed ... with concrete

January 10 ... demoted from "path" to "lane" ... and still closed

Just imagine my grin as I approached the path lane closure area and found this:

Yesterday ... Open path ahead!  Well, I assume it's now called a "path" again ...

Hot diggity! It was turning out to be a good day! First, the path entrance was NOT flooded ... and then the path lane was NOT closed! Of course this meant that my original plan was now rendered null and void, as the newly opened path lane, to which I have now restored its former title of "path", was calling me to visit those places I've not visited for so long.

And visit, I did. I rode through the underpass and on to the old route I used to ride often ... where there are trails and animals to see. I didn't take a photo of the cows ... because they looked a little sad in the muddy area they were confined to as a result of all the recent rain. But they were there, just as I remembered (except for the mud). As I continued on, I greeted the first group of horses:

Hello, Fuzzy Horses!

I'm no horse expert, but I'd have to say this one is ... fuzzy. They, too, had a muddy corral. Still farther up the newly open path ... crossing a few roads ... through a park I haven't seen in years ... I reached another set of horse stables. There were many horses here ... some just hanging out in the sun:

Just hangin'

Others were involved in some form of horse aerobics:

Horse treadmill?

For the most part, they gave me a brief glance and then went on with their day. I understand ... they have stuff to do that's more important than some dude with a camera. But there was one horse who seemed to be rather interested, and immediately came toward me as I approached the corral:

"That sure is a funny-looking horse you're riding, Mister ... got any carrots?"

I felt it might be rude to ask, and even more so to take a visual inspection, so I don't know if this fine-looking animal is a "him" or a "her". It doesn't really matter, though, as it was just very warming to the heart to have this beautiful creature come to greet me from the far side of the corral.

"Would you like to be my friend?"

"Maybe you could scratch my head ... and pet my nose ..."

Those big eyes seemed to be holding some deeper thoughts than possible to physically express, and I took a few minutes to offer some head scratching and nose petting ... all returned with a nuzzle of thanks and a nod of happiness. It's hard to beat the smile of a horse ...

"Dude ... check out my whiskers ... they're awesome!"

"Aww, gee whiz ... leaving so soon?"

It was hard to walk away from this beautiful animal who didn't want me to leave ... but since I was only planning a 30-minute ride and had already been out for over an hour at the half-way point of the ride, I really needed to head back home and get to work. So I offered one more scratch of the head and one more pet on the nose ... and promised to return with carrots. I rode away, trying to not look back ... and followed the wonderful newly-opened path back to the beach, and then up the hills to home. I'm so glad I brought the camera ... just in case this horse is not there the next time I ride that way. You can never have too many pictures, especially when they capture the meeting of a new friend.

Days like this are why I love riding a bike. Exploring new (and old) places, being in a more natural environment, and getting to see the variety of animals along the way. Hope there are clear trails and paths where you are ... and new animal friends to meet!

California Winter and the Wind Tunnel From Hell

Well, since I've posted so much about how nice the weather has been here, it seems only fitting that we finally received some California-style winter. Sunday brought us some light misty cold rain off and on through the day and evening, followed by a very cold (for SoCal) night and Monday morning. It was cold and windy, but not too much for a ride ... and the misty rain was gone, so I dressed warmer than usual and headed out.

The blue skies were nowhere to be seen, instead coated with varying shades of gray. The warm air was also missing, replaced with a chilling wind. Nevertheless, I pressed on ... seeing images like this:

Remember when this was pretty blue sky just a couple of days ago?

I rode past the beach to the entrance of the bike path that leads inland, wanting to check up on the path closure status. When I got there, I found the underpass flooded. You see, when we get rain here, no matter how small the amount, it all runs downhill from the mountains through the creeks and water channels to the ocean. Since the path entrance is at an underpass at the mouth of the water channel, it gets deep ... and floods the path at that lowest point.

This water is about hub deep ... and I was wearing sandals with wool socks.

Since I was without my river-fording knee-high boots, I decided to turn around and take a different route. There's a short detour that leads further south along the beach and connects to a separated bike path running between Pacific Coast Highway and the Amtrak train tracks, leading almost all the way to San Clemente. The path itself runs only for about 2 miles, but with the detour and beach sections leading to it, it turns out to be about a 6 mile round trip from the starting point at Doheny Beach. Being that it was cold and windy, I thought that would make for a nice little ride, combined with the 3 or 4 miles that gets me from my house to Doheny and back.

After a leisurely cruise by the  beach/RV area, I connected with the bike path and began the ride south.

It's cold. It's dark and cloudy. There are no motorized vehicles. And I'm wearing sunglasses.

It was relatively peaceful along the way, but a rather dull and non-scenic ride. It did seem nice and smooth, though, and with a nice relatively new path surface, the pedaling seemed light and easy. After the 2-mile stretch, I reached the end of the separated path. You can continue along PCH in a bike lane to San Clemente, but I decided to turn around and head back. Did I mention it was cold?

Turn around here or join PCH traffic to San Clemente

As I began to ride back toward Dana Point, I suddenly remembered why I don't ride this route more often, and realized why the pedaling seemed light and easy on the outbound portion. The return trip was what I can only describe as "The Wind Tunnel From Hell". It seems the combination of the rock cliffs on one side, houses and ocean on the other, and the path itself bound with tall-ish concrete barriers on both sides creates a super funnel for the wind that seems to always head south along this path. Needless to say, I was not excited to be riding into the worst headwind ever ... and did I mention it was really cold? I suddenly felt the familiar bite of winter on my fingers and face, my lips were becoming numb, and the fact that I had no handkerchief or tissue for my nose was beginning to concern me. Was I somehow transported back to the Midwestern winter?

With a lower gear and a determined heart, I pedaled the 2 miles back to the beach/RV area and snapped a photo with my frozen hands to document the evil path for you:

Remind me to remember this next time I decide to ride here, okay?

In the direction the photo is taken, the ride is fine ... but the return trip will feel twice as long and require several times the effort. Somehow I managed the "Wind Tunnel From Hell" ... and the cold ... and got back to Doheny Beach, then back through the hills and home. It took most of the day to recover from the chill. And for us here in Southern California, that's a traumatic experience. Do not worry ... I will survive.

I know ... for most of you out there, winter means snow, ice, and temperatures below freezing for at least 2-3 months. I used to live in a place like that. I think California has softened me, because what I'm describing above as frigid cold would likely feel downright balmy for many of you this time of year, and would have to me when I used to live in the upper Midwest. Times have certainly changed ...

I can't complain, though, given the amazing weather we've had for the month leading up to this cold snap. Last year brought us some horrible storms, and as a result, we were in the midst of repairs for most of last January. So a little cold and some very light rain is just fine with me. I'll just have to remember to save the "Wind Tunnel From Hell" for a warmer day ...

Hope your winter is progressing quickly into the coming Spring and that you can at least get out for some kind of ride, despite the weather!

Hunqapillar is ...

It's a strange name, for sure. According to Grant Petersen at Rivendell, it's a name he saw on a mailbox many years ago, perhaps spelled a little different, but memorable enough ... and he thought it was a good name for this bike, a Woolly Mammoth bike, as it is aptly described on the decals and depicted on the headbadge.

But what is a Woolly Mammoth bike and what makes it special?

Well, besides the fact that it has a funky name and a cool headbadge, here are some personality features that might help to explain it's "specialness":

1. It goes anywhere. Really. Anywhere. It's just as happy and comfortable on a smooth paved surface as on a rough, bumpy trail. I was mildly skeptical, but now that I've had it out for several rides in different places, I totally get it. While it's a sweet ride on the road like a great bike should be, it somehow comes alive on the dirt and gravel, still remaining stable and smooth. I suppose the Mammoth would have the same sort of behavior. Smooth flat surface? Okay, let's go. Rough terrain, rocks, dirt? Sure ... sounds like fun!
2. It carries lots of stuff. I love that there are brazed-on attachment points all over this frame. Almost any kind of front or rear rack or other carrying hardware can be installed, making it a truly great exploring bike. The small rack up front currently holds a tiny trunk bag for my "personals" (cell phone, keys, wallet, garage door opener, paper and pen for inspirational moments). It could just as easily be a full-size rack intended for the rear, since there are mounting points on the top of the fork crown in addition to the center mounting hole. It could also have low-rider rails for front panniers. The rear mounting options are just as versatile for any kind of rack system. I have a larger bag in back that carries my repair kit, camera stuff, and whatever else I might decide to take with me. There are no worries of supporting the weight of any riding load. Rivendell describes the frame as "stout", which sometimes brings the image of a portly dude drinking a dark beer to mind, but this isn't that kind of stout. It's more like "extra-strong and rugged without an ounce of fat". The funny thing I noticed is that the bike rides pretty much the same whether the bags are full or empty. No weird or squirrelly handling and no noticeable flex in the frame.
3. It's geometrically awesome! In other words, it's incredibly comfortable, without ever being sluggish, and has none of that "watch out when you turn slowly or the front tire will eat your foot" toe overlap thing. In the past, I've always ended up feeling like I have to keep pushing myself back on the saddle, and after a long-ish ride, my hands and neck would get stiff. The design of this bike has a more relaxed seat tube angle, which places the center of gravity further back. Cool! What that means is that when I pedal, the force is more forward and down, as opposed to down and backward on a bike with a steeper seat tube/more forward center of gravity. That shift in force keeps me in place on the saddle, rather than pulling me forward away from it. It also seems to give me a larger percentage of the pedal stroke where I'm applying full power. I can't back that up with science, but I can feel it in the physical action. The other benefit is that since the pedaling force is now more balanced, keeping me back in the saddle, there is less forward force (meaning weight) through my arms and hands onto the handlebars. On a bike with a steeper seat tube, the balance and pedal force pushing forward places more weight on my hands in order to maintain balance. Even though I'm technically reaching about 6cm further forward than on my other bikes, there's a LOT less weight on my hands, and the long-ish rides (and the LONG ones, too) are much more comfortable.  It is a pure joy to ride a bike that is so well balanced.
4. It's smooth and stable. This is mostly due to its geometric awesomeness (see #3 above), which includes long chainstays, and a proper fork angle and rake, which give it the right amount of trail. Yes, I know ... more technical bike jargon. Basically, as mentioned earlier, the bike is just well-balanced. Whether I'm riding slow on tight uphill turns, coasting down a steep hill, riding fast on a smooth road, or kickin' it on a gravel and dirt trail, it just rides smooth. I've yet to notice any squirming, no matter the conditions, whether I'm riding with a full load or empty. I don't have to grip the bars tight and push. I just gently guide them in the direction I want to go. It's so stable that I can ride it no-handed with full bags. I've never, EVER, been able to ride for any length of time with no hands on the bars, loaded bike or not ... until I rode this one. That says something big to me. And that something is not "Hey, dude, your bike skills suck."  No ... it says this bike is designed right and rides stable.
5. It's stunningly beautiful. You'd have to see it in person to really understand. For some reason, the photos don't truly capture the look. So just trust me on this ... it's gorgeous. It's like classic roadster, 87 layers of deep rich paint, lustrous satin silver hardware, hand-finished-and-polished ... it's that sort of quality in the appearance.
6. It's funky. In a very good way. Not like dirty greasy funky, or strange and weird funky. It's unique and different funky. As I was riding the other day, I stopped to look at the ocean for a minute, and as I started to ride away, a man actually ran across the street to ask about the bike. He'd never seen anything like it before, but said it was almost exactly what he pictured in his mind as the kind of bike he wished he could find. Even though he's reasonably happy with the Trek and Jamis bikes he owns, he wanted something that wasn't a road bike, or a mountain bike, or a city bike ... but something that was maybe the good parts of all of them, with something "more" added in. A good way to describe it. I just like to say it's funky. Funky is good.
7. It's fun! I've never enjoyed riding a bike as much as this one. Well, maybe that red Schwinn Sting-Ray with the 3-speed stick shift I had when I was a kid ... the one that got handed down to me from my older brother. But that's completely different ... or maybe not. I suppose it's much the same, actually. I used to love riding that Sting-Ray. I rode it everywhere and tried to do everything I had the courage to do on a bike. I have that same sort of feeling with the Hunqapillar. I want to ride it in places I've never been, just to see what happens. I'm no thrill-seeker, mind you, and I avoid danger whenever possible. But there are trails to ride here ... and hills to climb ... and this bike makes me want to go find them.

One last note ... if you have to ask whether the Hunqapillar is fast, or need to know how much it weighs, you should leave this blog immediately and go to Bicycling.com to read about the latest crabon fibre (thanks BikeSnobNYC for the proper spelling) race bike. Seriously ... go now. The Hunqapillar is not about being fast, and it's not about being the lightest bike on the market. It's about going anywhere and everywhere, being able to take the stuff with you that you'll need when you get there, and being supremely comfortable and fun in the process. It goes much faster than I'll ever need to ... but is happy to move at whatever speed the situation calls for. It's certainly not a "lightweight", but it's not what I'd call "heavy", either. Even with the racks and bags, it's surprisingly liftable (is that a word?). I just think of it this way ... it's fast enough and light enough for whatever I could ever need to do with it, and doesn't feel like I could break it by doing any of those things I could ever need to do.

Rear bag full of camera stuff, tool roll in bottle cage

Front bag with "personals"

Stunningly beautiful and functional butt perch (Brooks B17 Select)

View from the driver's seat, including the driver's seat

And here's a video shot by the Rivendell crew that reflects the fun nature of what the Hunqapillar is all about:

If my information is correct, that video was shot by Jay Ritchey, who also did the riding in the video, and who ALSO did the assembly work on my Hunqapillar. Sadly, Jay is leaving (or has already left) Rivendell ... I think the Blug post said it's for a nice lady in Arizona ... but I'm glad he was the one to build up my bike. Nice little touches he added ... to be elaborated on in the future.

So ... to sum it all up, it's fun, it's funky ... it's Hunqapillar! Perhaps we should modify the name just a little more from that mailbox Mr. Petersen saw all those years ago.  How about this ...

Plus FUN

Plus FUNKY

Equals:

  

More to come ... thanks for reading!