Monday Mail

From time to time, my friend Tony sends me things to put out there for your entertainment. He will be in Mexico for quite awhile, coming up soon, and I can't wait to see what he sends our way!

This is Tony most recently-

While adventuring closer to home, Tony came upon an image he felt was evocative of someone close to our hearts, here at the blog, and sent us a little email and some pictures... and here we are!

the other day (umm two weeks ago) I was visiting my friend in Oakland
and we had planned on heading on over to Brown Sugar Kitchen for some
yummy breakfast foods...but on Mondays apparently they are closed
(insert sad face here) and so now we were left to scramble for another
place to eat. But it just happens that my friend has a smarty pants
phone...so he whips it out and does a quick search for other near by
places with yummy eats...wait for it, done. And off we went.
Straight here, a right up there, whoops got lost, turn around, stop,
getting bearing straight again, got it, cross street and there we
were, in Lois The Pie Queens Restaurant. Great food and people by the
way. But the point of this story/email is to let you know that on the
way there I saw an awesome mural and I just wanted to share with you.


Thank you, Tony! Hope the pie was good! We all love a little reminder that life on a bicycle brings so much more to our eye than we ever expect.

My Father The Gardener

A while back, I asked a lovely gentleman (and he is a True Gentleman), that I am getting to know to write the story behind a wonderful picture that he shared on Flickr. His name is Dave (he goes by ColdIron on Flickr) and he works at Cycle City in Alameda, CA. Today, I found this in my in-box. All of us here at the blog would like to thank Dave from the bottom of our hearts for sending us such a wonderful and heartfelt story at a time when we really need it! I am quite sure you will enjoy it as much as we do.

Three Generations On A Big Dummy!

If I asked you, Dear Cyclist, to talk about your fondest childhood memories, you would probably get all nostalgic and smile. You would definitely start talking about the important role bikes played in your youth.

You might talk about a special Christmas morning, when Santa left a shiny new bike under the tree for you. Your father cut his knuckles, and was up until 1 AM assembling it the night before, but he didn't ruin the surprise. You were on the good list, so as far as you knew, Kris Kringle delivered it while you slept. You might not remember anything else Santa brought for you that Christmas, but you'll never forget your first bike.

You might talk about the day your training wheels were removed. A two-wheeler never looked so intimidating. Dad (or mom!) chased you down the sidewalk, as you tentatively weaved back and forth, gradually building confidence and speed. You might show me the scar on your knee from one of the many spills you took that day. You were a little more grown-up when you went to bed that night. Your two-wheeler wasn't so intimidating anymore.

If you're under the age of thirty, you might tell me about the the trailer your Mom (or Dad!) would buckle you in to, and how trips to the park, grocery store, or preschool were bumpy and fun. There were toys and books and a little plastic container of Cheerios, and maybe even a sibling back there with you. Getting around in the trailer was better than being strapped in the back seat of the family car. You felt loved and safe in your little nylon cocoon, and your chauffeur always seemed to be in a good mood when you got to where you were going.

There are many more stories out there. They are all worth telling, and worth hearing. I encourage you, Dear Cyclist, to think back, and remember the highlights of your personal velo-history. Write them down, and share them with friends...especially the friends who don't ride. Take time to thank those who took time to make bikes part of your life.

I would like to share one, or some, of my fondest memories with you. I'll start by saying I never got a bike for Christmas. I learned to ride without the benefit of training wheels. I am too old to have ever been in a child trailer. My memories do, however, involve a bike. They also involve my father, Jim. He has always been 'Papa' to me.

Papa was ahead of his time. He was a stay-at-home dad back in the mid 70's. When International Harvester closed its San Leandro plant in the early 70's, Papa got laid off. He didn't fret, though. My mom had a job that paid well, so Papa didn't go back to work right away. He stayed home and took care of my older brother and me. My parents have always been frugal people, and my father streamlined the budget by keeping the '67 Chevy Impala parked, and chauffeuring my brother and me around on his '69 Schwinn Heavy-Duti. My brother straddled the paper-boy rated rear rack, and I sat side-saddle on the top tube. Before BMX was part of the American vocabulary, before you could buy a plaid top tube pad for your fixie, Papa fashioned a cushion for me from a carefully folded towel, and secured it with a length of rope. My perch was comfortable, and I could see the road ahead. Franklin, Lincoln, Washington, and Little John Parks were all a few minutes away. Papa would play basketball, and my brother and I would work up an appetite on the playground. Countless Summer days found the three of us getting around Alameda in this manner. I felt special and loved, sitting on that top tube, between my father's strong arms.

The school year was different. My brother went to a nearby school, and walked. Lum Elementary was almost 3 miles away, and I straddled the Heavy-Duti's rear rack while my father pedaled me to school for most of the 2nd and 3rd grades. I remember many foggy and cold mornings. The smell of the beach, the singing of birds. Crab Cove didn't yet exist, and the trail through that part of the beach was bumpy and unpaved. The bouncing and jostling I was subjected to appealed to my developing sense of adventure. No cars could be heard; the loudest sound was the bike's rubber rolling over the sand and gravel path. My memories of the paved streets between home and school are strangely absent.

I was unaware at the time, but I was getting an education in resourcefulness, innovation, and appropriate transportation. I don't think Papa was aware, at the time, but he was teaching me valuable life-skills. He had planted a seed in me.

I switched to Longfellow Elementary for the 4th grade. It was a 5 minute walk from my front door, so...I walked. Papa needed to go back to work, so my brother and I took to pedaling ourselves around. Papa's trusty old Schwinn was relegated to the balcony, and he rode it less and less. For very practical, unavoidable reasons, my days of being chauffeured by bike came to an end.

The seed that Papa planted sprouted and grew into a tree. That tree started to bear fruit. I continued to ride for fun and basic transportation. I got a mountain bike for my 12th birthday, and taught myself how to adjust my gears and brakes. I started commuting to work on my bike when I was 16. My first bike shop gig came when I was 20. I entered my first mountain bike race when I was 22 (crashed and bent my frame while in 2nd place...DNF!). I took a 6000 mile, 100 day solo cycle-tour of North America the Summer of my 28th year (that's a story for another time). I can't count the number and variety of characters I've met, and friends I've made, through cycling. That tree continues to bear fruit.

I hope you enjoyed my story, Dear Cyclist. It's my pleasure to share the fruit. If you enjoyed it, please don't thank me. Thank my father.

Papa, I am so very appreciative of your gardening skills. I am grateful beyond words for so many fond memories. Thank you.

Letters From Singapore!

Our first reader contribution of 2011!! Sent to us, with much gratitude by Cheryl! This is the way to start the year- learn how to ride so you can take long rides with your friends! Thank you so much for thinking of us Cheryl and Min and make sure to send us some updates about your riding exploits in the months to come!

Christmas was just a couple of months back and I was thinking hard on what I could possibly get for my best girlfriend – Min! We aren’t the typical girls who dig shopping and cosmetics but love exploring everything adventurous and new!

Singapore, being the tiny country it is, has left us with nothing much else to do. We have traveled in and out of Singapore, gone running, windsurfing and just about any and everything. Then, I remembered…there’s something Min has always wanted to learn to do – that’s to cycle! I tried putting her on the bike and though she didn’t really get the hang of it, that didn’t stop us from being part of our new adventure – the Singapore Duathlon 2011! That was my Christmas gift for her!

Back in school, Min was a runner while I was somewhat the opposite, always coming in last during our sports class. Taking part in the duathlon relay has put us closer together as a team. It was my first time on a 20K ride and I was nervous! But I’m thankful for Min, who constantly motivated me. Both of us are also grateful for our beautiful friends, who woke up early on a Sunday morning, and gave us all the encouragement we needed!


It was a wonderful experience that enabled me to see that there really isn’t something you cannot do if you put your heart, mind and soul into it!er
e re

Change your lungs, ride a bike.

I was pretty happy to hear from this personal story about trading the pack of smokes, for a a pack of tubes. As a previous smoker myself and still fighting the jumping demon on my shoulder quite often, I enjoy hearing from others and how they left the habit and turned it, in his case into a cycling obsession (name of his blog!). From Iowa, we have received his inspiring story:

From one of Courtney's previous posts
Well this is the 3rd Anniversary Smoke-free (Feb 23) but since I'm on night shift this week I am a day ahead of everyone else. So a little background is in order I guess for people that bore easily just tune out now.

 For some stupid reason I started smoking in Highschool. I then continued this till I was 27 and 100lbs overweight. In 2006 it was late July I had some car troubles and was working 100+ hours that week. It was a 3 hour break in a 16 hour shifts and the oil pump went out of my Jeep. I thought about it and decided I only live 3 miles from work or so I'll go to my parents and get my old mountain bike and ride to work. So I got a ride over there and air up the tires (5 years or more since I rode) and took off home. I took 8th street too work. I really had a great time doing 12 mph and not able to breathe. Upon arrival at work I sat down in the smokers room and lit up my prework smoke. 5 different people asked if I needed medical attention I was pale white and couldn't breathe. After 45 minutes I recovered enough to work the night. After the next 2 weeks of riding it was getting alot easier and I felt a bit better. I had decided to keep riding since my Wife had done the weight watchers thing and I was feeling the push there, I thought if I keep riding I can skip the diet. Some time around February I decided to trade off smoking for a new bike (trek road bike). I lost 85 pounds haven't smoked in 3 years and went from a new road bike to ride to work to 10 bikes, racing, joining a race team.

 So I think even though cycling cost far far more than smoking (at the moment double) I do have some cool bike to show for it after 3 years and am in the best shape I've been in since freshman year in high school. All I had to show for the years of smoking was nothing. My original goal was to not gain anymore weight and be able to walk up 3 flights of stairs without resting at the top, and to save a couple hundred dollars a year in gas. I now have done a 200 mile ride (13.5 hours) Many 100 milers, 5 crit races, 2 mountain bike races, 1 cross race, A lot of rides, 2 running races, and many miles to go. My goals have changed a lot I'm starting mountain bike racing this year (jumped in head first) and still would like to hit 10k miles in a year.

 If you think you can't then don't try, because success is for the positive. Stop talking about goals and just go win.

- - - -

From his blog is: cycling-obsession.blogspot.com 

Thanks for sharing Courtney and ride on!!

Of Thrift and Thinking and Bicycles

My home is tiny. One thousand square feet with 3 kids, a husband, 2 cats, a bird and way too many hobbies for our own good. As a result I have a firm rule to keep the clutter down to a level that makes having guests over a possibility (although we are nowhere near the minimalist ideal one finds in magazines : )

One in, two out.

Whenever one of us gets something new, two things have to leave the house. It is interesting to see how this changes what you bring in in the first place, as every acquisition requires sacrifice from someone in the family (unless you are lucky enough to have clothes or shoes that do not fit, and then it is easy to get rid of something). Because of this rule, I make a lot of runs to the Salvation Army to drop off old toys, clothes, dishes...

The only way I go to the Salvation Army is by bicycle, so even if there is a large backlog of stuff to get rid of, it has to fit on my bike. Couple that with the fact that my local Goodwill only carries new with tags or high end designer clothing, I decided to start documenting my thrifted existence.

Thus, this last couple of times my panniers have been over stuffed. In the picture above I have 40 pounds of stuff jammed into or bungeed onto the rack. The clothes I am wearing were all thrifted- the skirt is Evan Picone and had a style of price tag on it that Macy's stopped using in the early, early 90's.

This second picture was taken just a few days later. It was the result of having to make more donation choices because I had found the fantastic skirt I am wearing at the thrift shop after donating everything in the panniers in the first picture. The panniers have about 20 pounds of stuff in them and the skirt is the exact one I used to sell to rich debutantes for $250 back in 1989.

"So what?" you say. In the last few years I have spent a bit of time trying to find different ways of doing things. Something about letting go of the artificial dependence that excessive car use causes in us makes embracing so many other things a great deal easier. Once I discovered what was possible in my life without my car, it was easy to start changing other parts of my life. Everything from how I eat to how I shop to how I dress and how I read changed when I discovered that all I needed to get just about anywhere I wanted was my bicycle, a water bottle and a topographical map. Somewhere along the thousands of miles I pedaled I discovered I don't need most of the things I used to think I did.

I don't need to move out of San Francisco to buy a house. Living somewhere where I can not ride my bicycle to do my shopping or go to the movies or get to work is not an option any longer.

While my love of tomatoes is enormous, I don't want them if they came from Mexico or Arizona or Oregon... I found jam the other day that is made locally and delivered by bicycle and that makes me happy in a way that a jar of Smucker's never did.

High end fashion has been a love of mine since I was a child. Over the years I was able to pick up a few things, but they were so expensive I was afraid to wear them. Now, because everything looks better on a bicycle I have embraced my favorite designers in an all new way, mostly in second hand shops that I ride my bicycle to. A double whammy of eco-goodness!

The best part of all of it, though, is this- All of these things that make me feel better about me make my place in the world less damaging to those around me and I discovered (or reinforced) it all because I chose to open my life to riding a bicycle. Who knew?

Back and rack to school

My little brother is back to school and he wanted to share his new bike commute on our story bloggie =)
Oh college life. so cool.
This week is also his birthday ----- Happy birthday nano!!
♥I love this kid so very muchooooo.

Hola! Just wanted to share a couple of pics with you :D

-1. is me n that smurffin jacket you got me all those years ago :P

-2. is my bici with it’s brand new 160lb capacity rear rack!

-3. is the lightweight basket provided by the generous folks at Safeway :P

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Meet the bike nerd

Last month we received an email from the "bike nerd" aka Seth Werkheiser. I think it's pretty adventurous and cool when people are able to pack and go. Just go. Go.

My name is Seth Werkheiser and I'm nomadic bike nerd without a zip code to call home, traveling from city to city with a laptop and toothbrush.
I left Brooklyn on July 31 and now I'm biking across Pennsylvania before heading South for the winter.



how to bike 30 miles with all your posessions

As told by Seth:

My story: I've been biking since I was like, 10 years old or something. I'm 34 now. Lived in NYC for almost six years. Lots of biking in the city. Then my hours got cut at work (I'm a freelance / contractor web-editor for AOL Music). Instead of trying to squeeze every penny and eat ramen noodles I decided to get rid of all my possessions and bike across the US with my laptop and clothes. I'm in NJ now. I'll be in PA this weekend for a few stops (Stroudsburg, Bethlehem, Philadelphia, Hershey, Everett, Pittsburgh) then onto Ohio and south from there.

Soooo I work M-F, 9-5pm. I log off, then ride and hang out with friends.

It's funny - when I got my hours cut I didn't now what to do! Like, I ALWAYS worked from 9am to 7 or 8pm. I was always checking email, even until midnight. I couldn't go out to dinner without looking at my iPhone every five minutes. Now? Now life starts at 5pm, and I've been biking more than ever! Losing weight and feeling good.

Check out my blog: thebikenerd.com

•• thanks bike nerd!! ••

Bum(er) Bike Day

Today was a challenging day on the bicycle. It was way warmer than I expected and thus, I was over dressed. I ended up riding in sweaty jeans, which many of you already know, is awful. There is a kind of baseline awful involved in damp, clingy denim but today, it was worse than usual.

Right above the spot where my posterior meets my leg I have developed two very uncomfortable ingrown hairs that have further developed, with the help of my saddle and today's sweaty jeans, in to two huge swollen lumps that hurt when anything, including the sheets on my bed, touch them.

Needless to say, I am unhappy with this situation. No more bicycle until they go away.

Sunshine, Sushi and Road Lessons

Finally, just when we all thought we were going to become walking mushrooms from lack of light, San Francisco has sun!!! Oh glorious sun from which all life springs, you have finally seen fit to visit us with light and warmth!! For a few days there will be no thought of taking a sweater, or two, when leaving the house. I will not have to wipe fog from my eyes or contemplate wool. No boots, no socks, no sleeves!

When it gets this warm, I stop cooking. On Tuesday we decided to have a family sushi night so we could ride in the warmth to the restaurant. Declan was very clear that he wanted to ride his own bicycle, not on the sidewalk. It was quiet out, and with four of us to buffer him, why the heck not?

I am quite sure that people seeing us pass thought I was completely nuts for letting my kids, especially one so young, do something as radical as ride a bicycle on a street (godforbidbutatleastheiswearingahelmet...) but that's fine with me. I had the great joy of seeing my three monsters pedaling away, joking with one another, keeping tabs on each other and enjoying the amazing evening.

It is always a little difficult when he decides he would rather skid to a stop than slow down and come to a gradual one, but other than that, we just enjoyed a real summer evening on our bicycles. Something about sunset light, and summer heat, and bicycles and the prospect of sushi make a Tuesday night quite nice.

School's In

If you go to public school in San Francisco, then today is the first day of school! My kids are public school all the way, and this morning, they each decided to start the year with a bicycle commute.

Declan decided quite a while ago that he wanted to emulate his older brother and ride to school (he is in Kindergarten this year). It is only two blocks away, but the lure of a morning ride and his very own bike lock was too much to deny.

It was really nice to see a lot more people walking to school than in years prior. There were still a number of people in cars, but the morning traffic tangle was nothing like I have seen it in the past.

The school has a bicycle rack, but it has still not been bolted into the ground (almost a year after receiving it!) so we used one of the polls outside the school. It works out fine and as I had to pass this spot a few times today, it was nice to see Declan's bicycle parked out there waiting for him.

This year, Úna starts Middle School as she is the 6th grade. New school, new friends, new commute. Her school is only a mile and a half from home, but it is on the other side of the hill. She decided to take the long way around through a rather busy business district instead of climb the hill so I went with her, following behind to see how she handled the streets.

She had to pass between City College of San Francisco (the largest community college and the second largest learning institute of any type in the United States) and Riordan High School which was a tangled mess of traffic and random jay walking pedestrians. It was so busy I couldn't take pictures of her riding through it like it was nothing (just like how people in India don't seem to notice the traffic and crowds there). She was fantastic and did everything right.

Once we got past the college mess, it was a short trip through a business district she is very familiar with. There was construction all over it, but after a short stint on the sidewalk, she got around it with no problem and made it to school on time with no stress (unlike the 5 blocks of tangled car traffic around the school building!!!! What kind of madness is this?).

I was uncomfortable with the amount of traffic on her chosen route. It will calm down in a couple of weeks, like it does every year, but until then I am going to make sure she goes over the hill instead. She had no problem negotiating the craziness this morning, but I would not feel comfortable letting her go on her own and the whole point is for her to do this by herself. Next time, we'll try the hill route which is much less busy and crazy.

Over all, a good day. All three of the kids got to where they were going under their own power. They all took the next steps in the process of growing up. I love it!

Point Of View

One of the more pleasant surprises of being around bicycles all the time is how much it has influenced my photography. Something about riding clears my eye to see the world just a little differently. Maybe it is the increased blood flow clearing out the cobwebs, or the increased awareness of my surroundings, or the geometry and balance of the bicycles themselves, but I see interesting things everywhere when I am out on my bicycle.

It isn't just me. Take a peek at the Flickr group, where all kinds of view points are coming out of all kinds of cameras! It is pretty inspiring.

Fog chronicles

Right on my back, not too far off is that beautiful burnt orange massive bridge entirely covered by thick fog.

On a late Tuesday afternoon, I decided to join the ninja crew and cruise to the other side of the fog force. Mist in the face, wool on the arms and the longest drooling mocos from the nose because it was just that foggy-moist out, made up for a great misty night ride.

It wasn't the tremendous effect of fog, the I-own-this-hill feeling coming into or out of the city anymore, it was returning into the presidio and encountering closed roads and construction areas. Only went in for a tad (I'm pretty sure it is rather unsafe and, if those guys see you will be pretty upset) but to see any of the big tonka trucks hard at work – I will always call them this — is just awesome.

Men at work

When I was 4 my dad asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I said: a big steal measuring tape. Of course I dont recall this, but I recall the measuring tape thing (was huge) and of course my bike. This picture reminds me of both.
The fog, a construction site and the possible sightings of men with hard hats.

Today, August 4th is a special day deep in my heart +there will be no cake but as always, I can get on my bike, explore roads that are unaccessible to vehicles and most motorized traffic and celebrate life.
♥xxo.m

Ooops!

Riding home from dinner on Saturday night, I looked like this.

Despite it being July in California, I am wearing a cashmere sweater dress under my jacket and that hat is wool (as were the socks inside my knee high boots). At this point I was pedaling pretty fast to get warmed up when I noticed a throbbing in my legs.

Why? I'll show you.

Yep. That is a big, lumpy bruise (pictured three days after I got it). I have three more just like it. All my own fault, no room to share the blame.

I was riding on Wednesday night, hell bent for leather to get to the bar before everyone else so I could get my hamburger order in before the hoards (I was hungry, what can I say?). I miscalculated a driveway and slammed the curb almost head on. Over the bars I went, or rather, straight through the bars I went bending light mounts, bells and brake levers alike. Fortunately, I know how to fall and landed on my back instead of my hands and face, with no other injuries than some bruised thighs that throb when the blood gets pumping through them.

The poor guys that saw me make a complete fool of myself came flying to my aide and were amazed when, from my back on the ground, I threw up my hands and yelled "I'm all right!" I was declared "bad ass" by those who witnessed my folly (James does not agree with the title and forbids me to fall off my bicycle anymore) and went in to get my food (priorities).

Moral of the story- When you are in a hurry, do not take the driveway : ) If you do manage to throw yourself off your bicycle, patterned tights do a great job of camouflaging your ignominy.

My little story - by Alejandro

One of the best aspects of having a collaboration blog is having so many active comments and viewers participate, globally and locally. Here in San Francisco Ade, Melyssa and I talk about it from time to time and have conversations as if we all know you, or you all have ridden with us because our interactions are what makes us keep going and everytime we receive a story in the mail -basically the main point of our blog- we can't wait to share it with you all and show off all those tales, cities and photos that connect us as a beautiful bicycle community.

Thanks for reading and here is Alejandro's story, based out of Mexico City.
Mil gracias Ale
Enjoy!!

Hi this is me Alex, don't let the pic fool you as I'm a laid back cool guy. I've been full hardocore bike commuting for over a year now, to the point that I get dizzy if I have to hop in a car or a bus for an extended period of time, and as I enjoy having fun in everything I do nothing it's more fun than biking, reagardless to say I don't know how to drive or have an interest in doing it.

Then again don't let the pic fool you as it doesn't shows really who am I and gives the impression I do hate biking or just treat my beloved bicycle (named Roberta) as an object but I can prove you wrong with this second photo.

As I wrote this I was wondering how riding a bike change my life, and I can put an endless list of things, and I think THE most importan way it has change my life, I have made some really good friends and it's constantly making me a more patient, yoga, zen kinda guy, to the extent I can now summon AND talk to animals.

But enough about me I want to introduce you to a really nice associantion I sometimes roll with, they are call Bicitekas (refering to bicicleta and the aztecs) It's an association with over 10 years here in the city with one sole purpose, making it a friendly city through the bike. We get together on wednesdays at night to prove bike can be done all over Mexico city and can be done at night, but their activities don't stop there.

In some special (and not so fun) ocassions we do gather to remember fallen fellow cyclist, brave persons (kids, young and old fellas, girls, people that work on their bikes) that were hit by a car and put a memento (the bicycle they rode with) that has been called all over the world ghost bikes.

The activities of Bicitekas don't stop there, they have manage recently to change the transit law in mexico to put priority on the weakest persons using the streets (pedestrian in first places, cyclist second). Also they created a comunity program named "paseo a ciegas" that put people with some visual disability or full blindness in the back part of a tandem bike drived buy a person who can see, and last but not least they are building an open workshop downtown so people can go learn how to repair or modify their bicycle and also it's attempted to be a resident house for people from all over the world that are doing something on sustainable transportation and are staying in the city.

So I have make some really cool friends in bicitekas, and it just came to me the reason why I love my brompton bike it's that the former president of the association just happen to sell them and he's a really cool brompton commuter/traveler.

So well that's bicitekas an association really doing something for my city, and accepting anyone regardless what bike you are using, how you dress or even if you wear a helmet or not. If anyone readin this happens to be in Mexico city you are more than welcome to join us riding your bike!

Sad Face

Anyone who knows me in my bicycle life knows I LOVE having a chainguard and skirtguards and fenders. I was only willing to take the skirtguards off of the Bat because the Bobike seat does a pretty good job of keeping things out of the wheels (I have only one skirt that manages to get past it and stuck in the brakes and I think that is just because it is evil).

This is a pretty good shot of the chainguard in its useful glory.

On July 4th, 2010, my useful chainguard was rendered completely dead when my son's bicycle fell over in the wind and took a chunk of wheel stay out of the frame and smashed my poor innocent guard to bits.

You say "Adrienne, you can get a new one". I sigh and reply "I wish", in response. I tried to get a new one several months ago through my LBS, but Batavus sent the wrong one (blue, wrong size, incorrect mounting points, no hardware...)! When I emailed Batavus last year about obtaining replacement parts like the chainguard, they wouldn't sell me any of the parts that are impossible to get off the shelf in the USA. Seattle Bike Supply, the group that sold my LBS the bicycle will not get parts for it because after selling the bike to me, they decided to not become Batavus distributors.

So, dear readers, I need your help (again). Who out there knows how to get me a new chainguard? I have money to spend and am feeling creative. Are you a fabricator? I have the original chainguard as a template and I think the Bat would look pretty good with a nice metal piece. Anyone out there know someone at Batavus who could send me the part (they have them, just not for me : |)?

Ideas? Anyone?

50% of the reason I purchased my bicycle was because of its various guards. Without my chainguard, my bicycle is naked and my clothes are going to get wrecked (I have to stand very close to the frame at stops to keep it stable when I have Declan on the back and I need my hands for something).

Over Hill, Over Dale

It is so hard to get a true sense of a hill in a photograph. Steiner St. is vicious, and even on my best day, I can ride maybe 1 block of it. I was just thinking I wish I had a level to take a picture of next to the bike when I was given this wonderful garage door to help make my point.

I forget where I read it, but one of the original guys at American Cyclery is said to have asked a prospective bicycle buyer " do you need to ride up all of the hills, or is it OK to push some of the time?". I subscribe to the latter and will push without reservation.

How about you? Do you have to ride every hill, or is it OK to push some of the time?

Police State

As I write this, I am of two minds about publishing it. It is a true story, but it comes with consequences (as all stories do). There are those who will think it is a "bicycle story", and tangentially, it is. Mostly, though, it is a statement on how things in American cities are very on the edge these days.

Last Saturday, ironically, just 30 minutes after writing and posting this, I had a very frightening encounter while riding on Valencia St. with my husband and older son. The sun was shining and the street was lined with pedestrians and cyclists despite the massive construction along the street that has eaten up both the sidewalks and the bike lanes. The three of us were headed to pick up my son's new contact lenses. As we approached the intersection at 17th St. I found myself being cut off by a driver turning right, no signal. I was in that weird place where you can't stop but you are still behind the car, so I rang my bell a couple of times and gave a shout out. The driver slowed the car but kept moving, slowly enough for me to pass but fast enough to be nerve rattling. The windows were down on the car and I could see the driver and his two passengers looking out at me. They were paying so much attention to me, I was worried they didn't see James and Cameron behind me, so I told the driver there were two more bikes behind me and kept riding. I could hear the driver yell something at me in an angry voice. It sounded like he called me a bitch but I couldn't really hear him.

At this point I did something kind of dumb, I flipped him off. This wasn't the most intelligent thing, but at some point you just get sick of being called names for not wanting to be run over.

I was about to look back to see where the boys were when I heard a big bore engine gun behind me and my first thought was "OK. You're one of those drivers." and I braced myself for whatever was coming next. The part of Valencia St. we were on no longer has a bike lane (temporary) and instead has a ditch with sharp gravel in it. In a situation like this, I find parked cars a great boon as you can dive between them to get out of the way, but there was nowhere to go so I would have to just be ready.

The car raced up next to me, just a little too close for comfort, to force me to slow down. I kept moving but he paced me. The driver leaned over his passenger and said "Shut your fucking mouth bitch or I'll knock you off your bike". He didn't yell it at me, he just stated it like there was no way it could be any other way, straight to my face. My nature is to not show fear, especially with people like this- I have found it makes them more bold. I looked right back at him ( I started taking note of all the details- the driver, the passenger in the back, the colour of the car....) and asked him if he would like me to call the police to report his harassing me? I got another "shut up bitch" and he started to drive away, slowly to see if I would try to pass him.

At that point I was just annoyed- I shouldn't have flipped him off, but he shouldn't have done any of the things he had done (I realized at this point that his almost right hooking me was not an accident). Then I saw what turned the whole thing very frightening- the car was an unmarked San Francisco Police car. Red and amber lights were in the rear window along with what looked like a police citation book.

I was completely floored. I had just been threatened and intimidated by a police officer. His partners in the car had done nothing to stop him. To top it off, this all happened not 100 feet from the Mission Police Station (which I turned around and went straight into to file a report which is now with the Office Of Citizen Complaints). The worst part was that from behind, both James and Cameron thought I was about to be run down in front of them (James pulled out his cell phone to start taking pictures). That was when I started shaking, just a little but for the next three hours.

This by no means puts me off of riding or makes me distrust all police officers . While this officer may have a special thing for cyclists, his issue was not with me, or me on a bike, or anything even remotely that personal. This is about one person's need to prove his power over the world around him and intimidate everyone and everything that comes close to him. My bicycle probably is more of a target for him than if I had been on foot, but he would be just as hateful and mean regardless.

Had he done this to many other cyclists, and my guess is he has on many occasions, they would probably stop riding. While I understand that, what I hope people understand is that this kind of behavior has nothing to do with bike lanes, or the need for infrastructure, or a lack of bicycle culture and points more to something deeper and more insidious that is happening in our cities. People are finding it more and more acceptable to behave poorly or as though they are in a movie.

I will not stop riding. It would take a hell of a lot more than this to stop me. I will not let this situation pass without making this officer face me and tell me why he thinks it is OK to threaten a women with bodily harm in front of her family. I will fight back so that no one else has to deal with this.

Maybe working for real bicycle culture is about working for a better culture period. Maybe the people who ride bicycles are something of a canary in a coal mine and how we are treated is a barometer for how all vulnerable members of society are being treated these days. Of course, with all of the people out there trying to build that culture, there is way more to be happy about than intimidated or angry. We have a voice and we can use it.

We can ride our bikes.

update- this story has been picked up by Streetsblog SF and NBC to air at 11 pm this evening.

Ben & His Bike Shop

After leaving the house with S.A.M. for the first ride after being put back together, I discovered my front brakes were... useless. It wasn't so bad, but I had to be extra vigilant until I got it fixed (I couldn't figure out the immediate problem which is the one drawback to being married to Hubby the Bike Man- I let him take care of it : ).

I thought I was going to stop at Box Dog Bikes as they are the ones that always have the kind of parts my old re-cycles need, but that was not really on my way. That was when I remembered that Ben, the guy who has become well known for opening up shop on the side of the road in the Panhandle, had opened up his own place on Treat St. That was exactly on my route, so that was where I headed.

Ben's shop is tiny and cute. I am sure that Ben would not describe his bike nook as cute, but it is. He has bikes hanging from the ceiling like salamis.

He has room for his single bike rack, and a rug, and a boom box and his tools.

When I looked to the back of the shop, I saw a familiar bicycle on the floor- KT's Motobecane. I thought it was funny that I recognized the pieces of my friend's bike without knowing the bike was there in the first place.

Ten minutes and $5 later, my brakes were doing their appointed job and I was on my way. I love little shops like Ben's. Nothing fancy, just the tools required to do the job and a guy with a nice smile and a bike stand. I was off for the rest of my errands in the brief sunshine we got that day in no time.

Thanks, Ben!

Canary Is To Coal Mine As Tree Is To Traffic

For a nice change, we bring you this interesting view of the road from our frequent commenter, Val! We all have a road like this in our communities (unless you are reading this in Denmark or Holland or Japan or Sweden or.... in which case we give you this opportunity to see just what you are missing out on!). How do you see yours?


The neighborhood I live in is a somewhat isolated suburb, on top of a steep ridge. There are only three routes up or down this ridge, and all are crowded and challenging to ride. Here's one:




It doesn't really show, but that's a 10% grade there, with a 40mph limit that almost all the traffic exceeds. This is a section where I frequently use the sidewalk, especially coming up (and, yes, if I'm doing that, I'm going at pedestrian speed, yeilding to people, and smiling as I pass them - politeness always helps).

Further down the hill, the street is lined with cherry trees:




It's very pleasant for those of us not sealed in high speed boxes, and you can see that February is turning out to be quite nice here in the Puget Sound area. As we proceed along this stretch, however, we see that not all of these trees are standing straight:




In fact, quite a few seem less than vertical:





What could cause such a thing? Perhaps this is a clue:



Or, if that is not enough, how about:




If the sight of a truncated trunk lying on the ground with its bark torn off still doesn't tell the tale, I direct your attention to my final exhibit:




That's right, what we are seeing here is automotive damage. The combination of a steep hill, crowded road, and people in a hurry leads to motor vehicles going off the road in this area with alarming regularity. I shudder to think of anyone who may have been walking when these things happened. The trees, at least, can adapt and survive, usually. There are several blank spaces in the row that have been left by trees that were too damaged.

Why post this here? For me, this street is a constant graphic reminder of some of the contrasts between bikes and cars. When I am riding, I can appreciate the cherry trees, which are barely noticeable from a sealed environment going 40-50mph, and I know that no matter how out of control I get, I will never knock one over. We hear about illnesses caused by exhaust fumes, we read the statistics about deaths in traffic, and we know that driving increases stress in drivers, but constant visible damage like this has another sort of impact. Every time I see these trees, I am glad to be riding.

Do you have a ride you would like us to see? We would love to view the world through your eyes. A favorite road? A place that leaves you wondering? Something that makes you want to become an urban planner? Share with the world!