Not Dead Yet

Some of you may wonder where I've been these last several weeks. You may be asking me questions such as, "Why isn't this blog updated regularly?" or, "Why do you keep slacking off?" or possibly, "Who are you?"

Well, my excuse this time is that I've been very busy, working from basically 8am until 11:30pm for the past two weeks. The good news is that I rode pretty much every day, which exposed me to such delights as riding in the dark and riding in traffic.
But I'm back to a normal schedule now, and will be back to regular updates forthwith.

June 30th-July 1st, 2009: Cycle Touring (sort of)

Cycle Touring is great.

Here I was thinking it was going to be one of those things involving that thing I really hate (you know, effort), but it ended up being easy-peasy. 'Course, I took a few shortcuts.

Firstly, we strapped the bikes on the car and drove to very near the ferry, parking on a side street that was about half-a-klick away. Then we rode through the car entrance, which was a little weird, and found a nice sunny bench where we could eat our delicious supper of sandwiches and surreptitious beer and watch some guy's dog try to savage a small child.

The ferry was quite late, which wasn't really a surprise as the BC Ferries gulf island service regards timetables with the sort of laid-back disdain you might expect from a bunch of Rastafarian Teamsters. So, we left around an hour late, but the sky was blue, and the islands were emerald, and the sea was indigo, and the sun was warm and the stiff breeze made the ferry's flags stand straight out, and it was impossible not to feel patriotic in such a jewel of a setting. The ship's horn sounded, a sort of cross between trodden-on-emphysematous-goose and leaky church organ, and we steamed across to Pender at some knots, and then got stuck in Sturdies Bay, waiting for another ferry to clear the docks.

While we were waiting to disembark, one of the Ferry guys came over and started asking us how far we were going, warning of Galiano's hilliness. This made me nervous. I don't like hills. Downhill's fine, but uphill and I aren't friends.

Luckily, I was already reaping the fruits of an earlier brainwave, which was to not bother to put any racks on my bicycle, nor to carry any bags with me. Where's the genius, you ask? Well, my inability to carry anything meant that Katie had to be the pack mule, or, as I thought was slightly less insulting, the sherpa.

"Come, Tenzing!" I cried as we ascended the first of several hills (which turned out not to be too bad). Then of course I fell behind and had to struggle to keep up. I don't often notice the relative disparity of fitness levels between myself and my wife, but it's fairly embarrassing to be wheezing away behind as she chugs up the hill like the Little Engine That Could. Luckily, I'm taller, so she still needs me around to reach things off of shelves. The truth of the matter is I could be easily replaced by a stool, a hot-water bottle and a cat.
Note to self: appreciate wife more. Again.

We had a lovely time with our friends, the Beavers, who are also avid cyclists, and have actually done some serious cycle touring. Canada day was perfect for a BBQ and lazing around in someone else's garden, although bouncing on the trampoline after three beers and an ice-cream is not recommended, if you can possibly avoid it, and before we knew it, it was time to head back.

Overall, a successful weekend, and at a round-trip cost of $22 for both of us, it certainly makes nearly no sense to take a car.

Unless, that is, Katie tries to get me to buy panniers.

Friday, June 26th: Stuck In Traffic

Serve me right for taking the car to work to clean out my desk, but 7 pm saw me stuck waiting to get on the Lion's Gate bridge from the park entrance. Problem? Cyclists.

It was the Critical Mass guys holding up traffic on their monthly ride, and June being Bike Month, it was one of the largest rides this year. I would say it took about an hour or so for the road to clear up. People were upset and angry. Families going away for the weekend missed their ferries.

Now, not that I'm opposed to Critical Mass in principle, or that I really had anything important to do, but I have to say that I don't see how this social event does anything other than drive a further wedge between cyclists and motorists. Sure there'll be people suggesting that cyclists have just as much right to the road as I do, and I wouldn't dispute that in any way. However, in San Francisco, where the Critical Mass phenomenon first occurred, cyclists can participate in something called "Critical Manners" where groups of cyclists still ride on major roads, but obey traffic laws like red lights. There's a similar movement in Portland called "Courteous Mass".

Point is, Critical Mass has no real stated purpose other than to get a group of cyclists and go for a communal ride. It is leaderless, and only loosely organized, and in most cases what you end up with is a group of frustrated motorists who are now less likely to share the road with a lone cyclist. I'd go so far as to suggest that Critical Mass indirectly leads to cyclist/motorist conflicts outside of the actual rally.

Critical Mass needs a point. It needs to be for bicycle advocacy, or to encourage people to ride, or to protest the need for more bike lanes. It could be so much more. Right now, it's just people having fun at the expense of other people.

Helmets

Initially, I had intended that this blog be updated on a daily basis. Sadly, that has fallen by the roadside as rapidly as my determination to cycle every day. Still, it's time to get back on that horse...er bicycle, and I'm heading to the bike shop today for some padded trousers.
I've resisted the padded cycling shorts for a while, and I can't really remember why. I guess I prefer the all-natural look, rather than the padded rear. Aw yeah baby, that's all Brendan.

Anyways, that's later, but let me just talk about bicycle helmets for a bit:
Someone gave Katie a bumper sticker that says, "You'd Look Hotter in a Helmet." This is not true. Had the bumper sticker said, "You look like a complete dork in that helmet", then I would probably added it to the sticker collection on the back of the Subaru, but it didn't make the cut. Helmets are dorky.
I guess that's the reason I don't ever see the cool kids wearing them. Fixies, skinny jeans, unsightly ass-crack: you better believe that dude ain't going to mess his bangs up with a helmet.

Myself, I've never been cool, just cold occasionally, so I wear my helmet. Katie once tried to tell me (after I got all self-righteous about the issue) that not wearing a helmet makes you ride more safely, and thus be less likely to get into an accident, but somehow I still don't get to buy a motorcycle.

BC Ferries and Not Riding

So this weekend I spent some time in Victoria, basking in the sun. I saw a lot of hippies. I saw a lot of old people. I saw a lot of beer. I drank the beer.

Then I took BC Ferries home. Eventually.
Normally, you show up and the ferry is late. However, the new ferry is apparently much more reliable, which was some comfort when the terminal suffered a power outage and we stopped loading. Still, after only half-an-hour, feverishly working crews were able to not do anything. People in orange vests milled about in aimless panic like a herd of safety-concious zebras with a lion nearby.
Then we started loading, an hour late. Ten minutes into loading, there was a helpful announcement informing us that we were loading.

What I didn't do for the last few days was ride my bike, principally because it got left behind when I went to Victoria. I did ride yesterday though, and it was fantastic, although I got passed by a guy whose grotesquely bulging and heaving calf muscles resembled a rabbit trying to escape from inside a boa contrictor. Still, I had lots of energy.

Unfortunately, I didn't ride this morning as I was going to take my parents' car in for a replacement windshield, but the guys ordered the wrong part, and now I have to bring it in again tomorrow. Too long without riding is bad, but I'm going to go to the bike store to make up for it.

Friday, June 10th: Cycling to Work

I cracked the 100km barrier this week, figuring I did about 25kms a day. Feeling pretty good about that, and hopefully I can keep from slacking off.

This morning though, I rode early, leaving the house around 7:30 a.m.. That meant I got to ride with Cyclists. Now I'm not a Cyclist, I'm just a pudgy guy on a bike. That means I can usually overtake helmetless blondes on their trendy cruiser bikes and the elderly, but always get passed by the serious dudes. You know the type, in the closet: four Hugo Boss Suits, three popped-collar polo shirts and two pairs of $300 jeans, everything else spandex.

Not that I'm not getting passed by regular people too, it's just the BroCylists that really annoy me. I passed two coming the other way on English Bay and overheard this:

BroCyclist #1: "Dude, I f***ing love bananas."
BroCyclist #2: "Yeah Dude, they're like jam-packed with vitamins and sh**."

Luckily, if their seats are anything like mine, they'll have been infertile for years.

Legs, and Cycling Karma

Good ride today, probably the best yet.
I discovered that my legs, despite having the musculature of a curtain rod, are actually fairly complex things, and I can sort of shift the workload around from quads to calves. At this point, my quads are more like unos and my calves are embryonic, but it helped a lot. I managed to get an extra gear up the hills, and my bike is only an 8-speed, so I pulled a bit more speed.

I've talked about Bus Karma before, and today I also had good Cycling Karma. Good Cycling Karma is rolling up to the light to find that someone has already hit it for you. Good cycling Karma is getting the insta-change at the pedestrian-controlled light. Good Cycling Karma is seeing the shadow-hidden bump in the pavement before your giblets get smashed into giblettes.

Overall, I hit work nearly 10 minutes earlier. Unfortunately, I can't climb stairs anymore...