First ride in two months...

A thumb injury kept me off my bike in the past two months. I was very glad to see I ride 16 miles w/o a problem in lovely weather yesterday.

Cushy Tires

A new set of Schwalbe Maraton tires have me navigating rainy potholes and other unannounced road hazards much more easily these days. I'm even inclined to head toward these menaces for pleasure.

Bikeful Day

Many things coalesced yesterday (Thursday) that made it a very bikeful day. Not the least of which was gorgeous weather to pedal through on the way to the paper processing facility (AKA the office). As I moved through Camp Hill borough and then up 21^st Street, I saw three colleagues in their cars (and they saw me thanks to the new day glow orange jersey). Collegial street encounters are more common than I realize, as more folks at various social occasions tell me they’ve seen me on one road or another. Good that they see me, lest I become squished. 

I rolled in behind the corporate office center and locked up.

It was another 90 minutes at the office when I realized that a conference presentation downtown was on a schedule not anticipated by yours truly. It was to start in seven minutes. I figured I could make it (hmm: 2.3 miles, but a third of that downhill).  I zipped from my office down to the bulging Susquehanna, then across it via the Harvey Taylor Bridge, and eventually pulled into the Hilton, making a quick change of clothes before stepping into the “Delaware Room”…not bad for rapid commuting!

And then, thank you bike for getting me to more errands: clothes at Boscov’s, printer cartridge at Staples, organic stuff at Giant. What could make more sense?

This is all happening in one biking day, and to top it off, my lovely wife rode her bike into town today as well.  Great job, sweetie!

My lovely wife riding a bike in the Netherlands about 28 months prior to Thursday.

But there is more biking news today, taking place even after the sun met its zenith and fell behind the horizon. At about that time, the phone rang and a friend asked if he could drop by to fix a defective rear-brake on his Mongoose. Together we discovered the role of a missing washer, and within 20 minutes had improved  the cantilever brake significantly. Very satisfying! 

Well Burst My Panniers!

This photo illustrates the maximum capacity of my panniers (or it's a birthing photo of a mother grape). I pushed their limit today with a grocery list that was a bit over-zealous for a biking day. If I recall, my two panniers held: one loaf of bread, 2 frozen o.j.s, a jar of peanut butter, 5 pounds of apples, 3-4 pounds of bananas, one pack of American cheese, one package of 100 paper lunch bags, 6 Greek yogurts, one package of hamburger buns, a veggie burger mix, and 2 bags of pretzels. And frankly, I had to use the pannier's bungee cords to secure one plastic bag of groceries onto my rack. I'm thinking the rear of my bike weighed forty pounds all told.

And for you jazz heads out there: since my son was practicing saxophone while I've been composing this, I will honor his hard work with some Coltrane:

Recent February Rides

 I saw this cyclist heading west earlier this week as my son and I were stopped at a red light on the "Pike." It was very windy that day, and this guy was catching a lot of it given his cumbersome clothing. Presumably his duds are warm but not aerodynamic. But he was moving steadily, and probably safe to assume with more purpose than folks who need to just push a plastic accelerator to the floor to move ahead. Or maybe he was headed for a cigarette. 

A few days later I take a ride with my son. We traverse a simple route to the nearby shopping center using residential roads and parking lots hiding behind commercial buildings that together stitch a no-traffic pathway that avoids the Pike. He can handle busy streets well, and easily picked up the brief riding in traffic that we had to do. In the process we build another piece of our mental maps that make biking more possible: the pathway behind Wicker East, a small dirt trail behind Five Guys, where an avoidable stream of traffic enters from the main road. I also spy interesting bits of graffiti along the way, suggesting there is more diversity here than would meet the township code!

Some Good Signs in Gray

It's getting drearier, at least on some days, in Central PA.  Dreary grayness can be reflected rather somberly in old train trestles. But old trestles can also hold a good sign, as this one does in Lemoyne, PA:

I'm not sure this was an official act of signage, or a rogue one. If you're a long time reader of this blog, you'd know that even official signage can be of low quality (see my post this past  summer). As for this sign, it's well placed, as this curve in Lemoyne toward the Market Street Bridge and river is a treacherous one for pedestrians and bicyclists alike.

Cold Ride to Polls

Cold weather (maybe 35 F this morning) has returned but didn't stop me from biking to the polls this morning. I was queried by a tall man in a formal hat and coat, holding a stack of Toomey leaflets (unfortunately), as I unlocked my bike.  He asked about the number of gears I have and how fast I can go, responding with a slowly spoken, "I see what you mean..."  What was to understand?  Perhaps the Sestak button on my panniers?

After the Exhibit - Philadelphia

I was in Philadelphia last Friday night and as I drove from one place to the other I kept exclaiming about so many bicyclists darting in front of our car (often helmetless), using and not using bike lanes, standing in contrast as human elements against a  steel and concrete backdrop.   It's as if I had to MAKE WAY for bicyclists, if only a touch. Wonderfully novel to a suburbanite! When in college I was among these urban types, too often darting through traffic with the false sense that the whistle in my mouth was a sufficient means to save my adolescent self from the chaos of metal laden traffic. Or is so much pedaling through traffic an experience to behold regardless of age? Is it vital? Spirited?  The bicyclists were weaving and wizzing and vital, there were no concerns among them.

40s and bike racks

My mindset about temperature is shifting. Now temperatures in the 40s seem like nice weather for a ride, and that being the case this afternoon I took the opportunity to run some errands via bike. My ride to the local big box stores, which are nestled within a quagmire of parking and limited pedestrian space, was uneventful but purposeful: new ink cartridges for the printer and a gift from the bookstore.

Locking up was tricky since neither a bike rack nor any solid anchored beam were available. My two options were a small standpipe tucked close to a wall and a gas meter. I chose the former thinking a gas emergency would lead to my bike being chopped by a fireman's hydraulic cutting tool. You'd think that a bike rack amid so many book purchasers is a no brainer. It was an issue I needed to press inside.

When I entered the bookstore I asked an employee if they could arrange for a bike rack out front.

Me: So, do you think you could get a bike rack out there?
Him: There were demands for a pedestrian ramp at the entrance, but the management company wouldn't even provide that for wheelchairs...
Me: Couldn't you prompt the mall property owner?
Him: I don't think we have any sway overal mall people...

Alas, what was I thinking? Why would an entity renting 40,000 square feet have any sway over mall people? It's more important to sweep a sidewalk without a bike rack impeding the broom pusher, or access for the disabled hindering traffic. And besides that mall, people rely on cars. Nonetheless, perhaps a call to the mall property manager is in order! Surely they will consider an artistic bike rack.

Bright skies and dingy gray shoulders....

Needing to obtain a last minute gift, I hopped in our trusty Civic mallward bound. And then hit an insult of traffic! I returned home and grabbed my Trek 800. Much better! The 2.6 mile route passes across old state roads now crowded with poorly planned commericialism, alongside a dog food factory, and over train tracks and small hills. Aside from a tractor-trailer's stinking blast of exhaust and dust, and an intense squeeze of traffic underneath route 15, my ride was relatively uncomplicated. After locking up to a guard rail, I then walked past smoking teens into the mall with my bike helmet proudly under arm!