Winter Biking

As I pulled in to my driveway on my bike the other day, my neighbor, who was out shoveling snow, commented, "You're insane."

I suppose I looked it. My biked was caked with snow--wheels, chain, brakes, derailers--and snow was flying out the front of my fender in a steady spray. I was bundled in wind pants, insulated boots, parka, wool gaiter pulled up over my mouth and nose, ski goggles, helmet (with mirror), snowmobile gloves, and I was slipping and sliding through four inches of snow that was making cars slide around and go off the road.

I have long resisted riding in any kind of snow or ice. I usually stop riding to work in January and start again in late March, when the sidewalks are wet only. And even that can be treacherous. One time in April I was barreling along on a cold morning when I went through a puddle that had a thin (I thought) skin of ice on it. My front wheel sank through the ice and stopped, caught by the ice. I went flying over the handlebars, landing flat on my back in the street. It broke my mirror. So much for playing it safe.

This year, deep in my mid-life crisis, I decided to try my luck biking in snow. Why be comfortable? I asked myself. Why not live on the edge? Sky dive? Solo hike across Africa? Buy a trip to the space station? Well, no. But maybe bike in snow.

I let the air out of my 32mm Schwalbe tires, so that they are at about 42 lbs, I shifted way down to a low gear so I couldn't go too fast (making the inevitable falls less fatal), and I taught myself to turn VERY SLOWLY. Turning is when you fall.

Much to my surprise, it's fun. I love skiing and driving in snow. Winter biking has the thrills of downhill skiing (moguls, loose snow, constant danger of falling and getting hurt), winter driving (slipping and sliding, fishtailing, inability to stop), and, I suppose, bob-sledding. It's quiet (no sound from tires on pavement), and riding so slow is kind of relaxing (when it's not scary). And OMG do I feel virtuous! Like, Mr. Super Green Man.

One of the secrets is to regulate temperature correctly. Heavy winter coats: bad. Layers: good. I find that when I wear a thin turtleneck, a light sweater, a fleece vest, and an anorak wind breaker, I'm good down to about 20. Below 20, I need either a parka instead of the anorak, or a fleece hoodie instead of the vest. (I recommend Melanzana fleece outerwear. Way nice.)

The ski goggles are essential. They don't fog, so they can be worn with a scarf, balaclava, or face mask, and they keep out eyeball numbing cold and blinding snow. Light wind pants over my regular pants are perfect for keeping my legs warm, and either insulated boots or rubbers over my regular shoes (with two pairs of socks, one of them wool) keep my feet warm. Being too hot is almost worse than being too cold; this combination of layers works well.

As I was riding home the other day next to the cars that were just creeping along, I really was glad I wasn't in one of them. What was not to like?

I worry that all the snow and road salt will wreck my steel frame, so I have taken to rinsing it off with hot water when I get home. The wheels I'm not worried about, since I have a new pair of 700c's that I'll put on in warmer weather. These 27-inchers can be my winter wheels. I have another set of Schwalbe tires for when these wear out (if they ever do, which they may not because they're Schwalbes). Schwalbes are good because they have a generator strip that gives my Busch and Müller dynamo a good grip, even in snow. I plan on using these wheels for many winters. Really really nice German tires. The generator and lights are nice in winter, when daylight comes late and leaves early. Lights in a snowstorm are nice, too.

Today (a Saturday) I rode to the health club (four miles), soaked in the whirlpool, shaved, and rode home. I didn't need to exercise there, since I had gotten plenty as I slipped and slid my way to the club, and I'd get plenty more on my slip-slide home, so I contented myself with saving a few pennies on the club's shaving cream and hot water. It was well worth it.

More Handlebars

It's been a while. Since I'm the only one who reads this: Sorry, me.

The Rambouillet has continued to be a lovely bike. I haven't changed anything on it yet. I decided to ride it 1000 miles before thinking about making any changes. It's been significantly more than that, and still I leave it as it is.

One change I haven't made is adding fenders. I'm a big believer in fenders, and I think that a bike without fenders is a little naked. But I haven't been able to bring myself to put fenders on the Rambouillet. It's just so beautiful, I hate to cover up the lovely wheels. The nasty seat-post rack and black Nashbar rack trunk aren't beautiful, but I need a bag. I suppose a beautiful Carradice seat bag would be better, but they're expensive.

So I don't ride the Rambouillet in the rain. Or snow. That's OK. I can ride the Trek in wet weather. Once my junker Fuji fell apart--the broken rear axle was the last straw--I started commuting on the Trek. The moustache bars were pretty nice, but I continued not to love them.

Since I had a set of Albatross upright bars available after I dismantled the junker Fuji, I decided to give them a try on the Trek. They have lovely cork handgrips with bar-end shifters, and I wrapped cloth tape up around the bend in front, which gives a quite nice weight-forward head-down-ish position. I may even put interrupter brake levers on the front curve, so that I have two positions to brake from.

One nice thing about the Albatross bars is that they are high enough with just a Nitto Periscopa stem. I don't need to use the extra stem extension that I had been using with the other bars. I never liked that thing.

I've ridden it all winter, so far, even through several inches of snow and over ice. The really cold weather didn't arrive until this weekend, so I have yet to contend with single-digit temperatures. That may be a deal breaker. I find if I let the air out of my 32mm Schwalbe tires (down to 42 lbs), they grip the ice and snow pretty well. I don't really notice a big difference in rolling. I'm too cold, probably. The extra unrollability just makes me work harder, keeping me warm.

The other thing that keeps me warm is my new generator (Bausch and Müller 6, which has the most resistance of B and M generators). the extra resistance isn't a big problem, and I love the B and M halogen lights, which I run even when it's just a little dusky.

The big question (well, it's not that big a question, in the grand scheme) is whether the Albatross bars will work for touring. My friend Jon and I are planning a little Lake Michigan circumlocution this summer, and the Trek is (theoretically) designed for touring. It has slightly beefy Reynolds 531 tubing (actually, the down tube is quite beefy) and a nice long wheelbase. I have a set of 700c wheels (built by Rich at Rivendell) that I'll put on, so I don't have to worry about the odd and bizarre Maillard "helicomatic" hub (with its teeny little bearings that have broken in half), and I'll be able to use nice 35mm or even 37mm tires.

I think it would be lovely to tour with silly upright handle bars. They'll go along with the silly rear basket I plan on carrying everything in. Maybe I'll add a silly front basket, as well.

Jon is my bike touring buddy from way way back. He and I rode down the west coast (Seattle to San Diego, including--idiotically--the Olympic Penninsula with its logging trucks) when we were 17. (I'm glad my 17 year old hasn't asked for permission to do such a crazy thing.) My longest one-day ride to date came when Jon and I rode from Douglas, MI (on Lake Michigan) to Ann Arbor, nearly all the way across the state on a hot hot June day. About 160 miles.) When we were 16. It took us about 14 hours, as I recall. Insane.

And now here we are, 33 years later, planning on doing it again. We've only ridden together once since then, about 25 years ago. I don't think we'll have many 160 mile days. Or even 100 miles, which we did several times on the west coast trip. (One of those long days involved going over the coastal mountain range at least once. Ah, youth.)

We're both old and stiff, so we need nice high handle bars. I figure, I'm old, so I may as well have real granny bars, baskets, the works. If I had the money, I'd buy a Rivendell Willbury, a low-top-tube mixte. Then I'd even have a granny bike. A beautiful one.

We'll see how the tour goes. I'll document it here, in case I want to read about it on the web. Pictures, even, maybe.

Follow up: The Albatross bars were fine on tour. I had cork grips on them, and I wrapped the curves with tape to give me a more forward position. I also put interrupter brake levers on the curves--a bit unconventional, but it worked pretty well. (The cable routing was bizarre, but not hopeless.) I put the moustache bars on my snow bike (an old Trek mountain bike with 2" tires and giant Wald fenders). They are wonderful for that purpose. Much better than straight bars.