You're Too Close!

Thank goodness for biking. I can still get out on the roads and trails I love, experience the dawning spring, and pretend that all is well in the world, which it isn't.

Obviously, I think about you-know-what a lot as I ride. Can bikers catch the virus from each other? How close do they need to be for the virus to be transmitted?

Let's say the virus is a gas, or at least gas-like, carried by exhaled aerosols. A gas will will disperse quite quickly in the great outdoors. How quickly? Hm. Do we have other personal gasses that need to disperse? How long do they take?

The answer, of course, is yes: Farts. Farts are gasses that we wish to have dispersed as quickly as possible, and for which we have outstanding detection monitors built right in to our noses.

So do bikers' farts spread from biker to biker? Not really. In all my days of riding with other people, I can't recall a situation in which I was aware of the fart of another person. Unless one drafts tight against the person ahead, and unless there's a tailwind that exactly matches one's velocity, making the air virtually still, I think there is virtually no transmission of farts between bikers.

So here's my new motto, one which I will allow the CDC to use:

If you can smell my farts, you're too close.

Bike Trip 2019, In Transit 1

As I write this I am on board the Empire Builder. We just cut through the bluffs along the Mississippi, to be greeted by the golden glow of the setting sun through the early summer foliage. It has been a long, but basically successful day, travel-wise.

I left Glen Arbor at 5:45 am, heading south. I parked my car in the ample parking lot in Dowagiac (SW corner of Michigan), and heaved my 48 lb suitcase/bikecase and my 35 lb. duffle onto the Blue Water. It was a relief to have that first obstacle out of the way. I had been fretting about the great schlepp for several days. After my agony of luggage on my Portland, ME, trip, I was worried about having more than I could handle again.

It mostly worked, although when I got off the train in Chicago and marched down the platform, I had misgivings. The duffle is really too big and heavy to ride on the top of the roller suitcase. I was quite uncomfortable by the time I reached the very crowded lounge in Union Station. It clearly needs some rethinking.

But at least everything fit in the luggage rack, and no conductor said, "Sorry, Pal. That's too much luggage." 

There certainly was no trouble with luggage on the Empire Builder, since I have a sleeper car in which, if necessary, I could put one of my bags. It wasn't necessary, of course. The bags fit nicely into the luggage rack. 

Bike trip 2019

In four days I will go west, young man, to start the epic 2019 bike tour. Well, Jon's trip is epic. Mine is fairly ordinary.

Jon is finally scratching the itch that he has had for 40 years, namely the ride across the country itch. He and Tom J started the trip in 1982 (I think), but had to abandon when tendnitis reared its ugly knees. Ever since, I think, Jon has dreamed of the great transit.

He has encouraged me to dream big, too, but it was never in the cards.  Three months on the road? In my unmarried days, perhaps, but certainly not now (even though I, as a college professor, wouldn't even need to take time off).

We have done exploratory tours, reunion tours (as it were), but no grand tour.

But now he's doing it. He'll turn 61 in transit, his health becomes progressively more precarious, he is between (or perhaps beyond) jobs, and it's time. 

So I'm going along for part of the ride--quite small, actually, but better than nothing. I started my "cross-country" ride in Portland, Maine several years ago. I got as far as Rome, NY.  Cindy and I rode from Buffalo to Clyde, NY, along the Erie Canal. I have also ridden, in stages from the Mississippi River to northern Michigan, by various routes. So there are only a few discontinuities in the eastern portion, namely, Michigan to Buffalo, and Clyde to Rome. Now I am going to start at the other Portland (OR) and head east.

I'll meet Jon (and, for several days, a cousin and friend) in Astoria (I think), and follow the Columbia River to Walla Walla, then into Idaho, and finally to Missoula (700 miles, or so) where I'll bail out and jump back on Amtrak for the trip home.

I'm taking the clown-bike-in-a-suitcase, which I bought specifically for this purpose. The suitcase turns into a trailer, and then, at the end, back into a suitcase. Odd looking, to be sure, but it actually works pretty well.

Winter, Again!

The snow is flying, the studded tires are back on the bike.

What kind of fall was it, bike-wise? The most interesting thing that happened was the steer tube breaking inside the head tube of the commuting Trek. I was riding along and the steering felt a little funky, but I couldn't see a problem. I wiggled the bars back and forth, and they felt solid.

But as I was heading to work, they felt weirder and weirder, so I slowed way down. Luckily. Suddenly, the handlebar was no longer connected to the front wheel. The steer tube had just worn through from years of use and, probably, rust. Try riding a bike that way. I ended up pushing the bike the rest of the way (three miles, at a brisk trot because I had to get to a meeting.) I had to old on to the seat and steer the bike by tilting it this way and that.

That was the second time in 2017 that a bike suddenly had no steering. On the Rivendell this summer I went wobbling off the road when the stem came undone from the threadless adapter. Very glad it didn't happen as I was barreling down a Leelanau Hill.

Brushes with death, indeed.

The Cult Of Rivendell

Those of us in the cult are firm believers that carbon fiber is bad, swept-back upright handlebars are good, and wool is the year-round fabric of choice.

I more or less agree about the wool (although I don't wear it in summer), but I have problems with the other two.

First, I'm sorry, but swept-back upright handlebars are not very comfortable. The "Albatross" bars that Riv sells look great, but they put your hands in an awkward position, and they put your upper body in such an upright position that you can't get leverage on the pedals. Even Cindy thinks they're uncomfortable. I tried to like them. I even rode a 700-mile tour using them. Uncomfortable.

Second, if carbon fiber is so delicate, how come the TdF bikes don't snap in half every time there's a crash? I admit, they don't always survive the crashes, but c'mon. They're going 40 mph. The fact that any of them DO survive, and are still rideable, means that they can't be the death-traps that Grant says they are. Furthermore, my STEEL bike broke--snapped!--at the drive side chain stay. That would have been uncomfortable going at speed down a hill. So much for bending and not breaking.

OK, one more. I understand the need to sell less expensive unlugged bikes, but hey, to say that they are as good as my gorgeous lugged Rambouillet, well, sorry, no. "It's the Rivendell ride that makes them special." Nope. I love the way my bike rides, but I bet I could get a similar (for me at least) ride from a much more modestly priced Surley. It's the lugs, stupid.

June 5 Sub-Century and More about USBR 35

I rode 90 miles today. Why not 100? It just worked out to 90. Sue me. Empire to Traverse City (30 miles, to pick up new glasses which had been prepared with the wrong prescription so I didn't actually pick them up). Then, because I was peeved about a phone call I received while I was waiting for my incorrect glasses, I decided I needed to take the long way home just to purify my mind.

At the Suttons Bay Marina

So I rode up the Leelanau Trail to Suttons Bay (always a nice ride), then followed USBR 35 across the peninsula to M-22 down the west side.

Time to vent some more about USBR 35 in Leelanau County:

First, I think M-22 south of Leland will soon be very rideable. (I got caught at a flagman, waiting for the pavers.) No longer an officially designated death trap. HOWEVER, my good will does not extend to M-204 from Leland to the town of Lake Leelanau. Horrible, high traffic, lots of trucks, pathetic shoulder, dangerous road. There are so many MUCH nicer roads in the county. It is criminally irresponsible putting people on that one. I don't care about the local politics involved in setting up an official bicycle route. There is never an excuse for putting people on a dangerous road. We count on "official bicycle routes" being suitable for biking. Duh.

Here's a great alternative: When you're coming up from Traverse City on the Leelanau Trail (which is part of USBR 35), get off on County 641, going north, and ride over to the east shore of Lake Leelanau. (Or go a little farther on the trail and go west on Bingham Rd, County 618, to 641.) Follow 641 up the lake to the town of Lake Leelanau, where you can rejoin USBR 35 (M-204), which has a lovely shoulder the rest of the way to M-22. THAT's where USBR 35 should have gone!

You miss Suttons Bay, but who cares? You were just in Traverse City. Why do you need another town so soon? Glen Arbor and Empire (on the west side of the Penninsula) are nice. You can get coffee in a nice coffee shop in Lake Leelanau. Take a little spur up to cute Leland if you can't wait for Glen Arbor.  Shops, restaurants, grocery. Get smoked fish at the dock.

Google Developing Self-Riding Bike

Google announced today that it is in the testing stage of a self-riding bicycle. Riders have been seen in the Bay Area on bicycles that have no handlebars, which are replaced by a control unit that contains an antenna, camera, and onboard computer. As the bike weaves through traffic, the riders read newspapers, catch up on their social media, eat breakfast (using the attached meal tray), even take naps.

"We have been pleased, so far," says Edward Merxx, Director of Development for the project. "We are still refining the programming, to make the bike more predictable when sharing the road with cars. To that end, we have programmed it to run red lights and stop signs, ride the wrong way on one-way streets, without lights at night, and up on the sidewalk when traffic is heavy. We are still working on the synthesized speech module to make it sound more insistent and peeved when shouting, 'On your left!' at the last minute."

Experts vs. "Experts"

It's funny/sad to read reviews of bike products on Amazon. It illustrates why we are able to believe the darndest things in an election year.

The country is full of "experts" writing reviews of their recently bought products, very confidently telling all about their virtues and flaws. They all have the air of truth, of someone who knows what he's talking about. (Are they mostly men in this category? I fear we men are the ones most likely to pose as experts.)

Problem is, they typically have no idea what they're talking about. None. For example, the first review of a bicycle tire stated that the specification 26x2.125" refers, respectively, to the tire diameter and the height of the treads above the rim, which is, obviously, wrong. Not wrongish, not a difference of opinion, not an alternate way of looking at it. The second number refers to tire WIDTH, only. The tire height will obviously change, but that's not what the number refers to.

When someone left the comment to this effect, the original reviewer belligerently said, basically, "Well, that's YOUR opinion."

And that, in a nutshell, is what's wrong with us. Facts don't exist. If it feels right, it IS right. I say the sun rises in the west.

(A reviewer of another tire said that the tire didn't work right for the first few rides, but then it got broken in and worked great. Sigh.)

Women's Road Race

I enjoyed watching the women's road race at the olympics. Every bit as exciting as the men's race. Too bad the women can't have their own Tour de France that would be sponsored and televised. I'd watch.

Les Studs

Watching Chris Froome's crash on the second to last mountain stage, in which his front wheel squirted out from under him when it went over a slick white stripe on the pavement, I concluded that he should have been using studded tires. Duh. What could be the downside?

Summer Biking

I am back in biking paradise here in Leelanau County. I have been pretty consistently doing my 30-mile loop around the Glen Lakes, first up the Sleeping Bear Heritage Trail, then on roads.

Here's the mystery: When you Google "How many calories does biking burn?", you get the answer 1800 or so for a 57-year-old man riding 30 miles. If that were the case, I would weigh approximately 0 lbs by now. In order to gain weight, which I have, slightly, I would need to eat, let's see, 4500 calories a day, or something. I hope I don't do that. Maybe I do . . . More likely is that the 1800 calorie figure is wrong. Really wrong.

The secret to losing--or not gaining--weight? Eat less. Bummer.

Winter Biking

One of our few snowstorms of the winter is underway today. No snow when I biked in at 6:00 AM, quite a lot of wet heavy snow when I biked home. Mostly more fun than not.

Winter Bike

USBR 35

There was an article in this month's Adventure Cycling in which the author rides US Bicycle Route 35 from Traverse City to Indiana or so. Most of the article was fairly mundane bike-travelogue (with not nearly enough nice things said about Empire), but what got my attention was his comment that he couldn't believe the stretch of M-22 south of Leland was part of the route. Amen. As I have commented before, that stretch is downright dangerous. To put unsuspecting bike tourists on a road that is that narrow, windy, rough, and busy is almost criminal, and it makes me suspect that the rest of the US bicycle routes can't be trusted. USBR 35 on US-31 north of Elk Rapids is another dangerous stretch.

I understand that the creators of the route had no choice of roads in those dangerous spots (even though there are beautiful quiet alternate routes they could have chosen). But in such a case, they simply should have left those stretches of road off the route. One of the hardest things about bike touring is picking safe routes. When we're not from somewhere, we have no way of knowing about road conditions or traffic. Some state highways are beautiful and safe, and some small county roads are congested and dangerous. It's impossible to know. We rely on route guides to choose the right roads. It's a pity when those route guides let us down.

Update, Feb 2017:
At last! MDOT has announced that they are finally fixing the bicyclist death trap on M-22 south of Leland! The road repairs, which will include a rideable shoulder, will happen next summer. About time.

Whoa, Trigger!

I put the Shimano Acera trigger shifter/brake lever on the RH side (back derailer, obviously) of the 620. I had been using a cheapy Falcon friction shifter, which was proving hard to shift with mittens on. And I was tired of it.

So, although the Rivendell aesthetic is all about friction shifting, I said to hell with it! and put on indexed trigger shifters.

I like them. A lot. Click! Change gears. Click! Do it again. Up. Down. All around the town. I'm perfectly happy with the double-trigger setup, which some people find confusing. Not I. Maybe I'll put it on the slush mobile, too.

So I'm getting a trigger shifter to put on the LH (front) side, too, despite the less than ideal indexed shifting in the front. I think I'll be able to live with it. Click! Shift. Click! Etc.

More Winter Musings

For that matter, I need to change handlebars on the slush mobile. One of the reasons it's not fun is because of the Riv moustache bars. I know I know, I'm supposed to love them. I don't. Perhaps with a shorter stem (so the bars are closer to me) I'd like it better. But I don't like the straight-back nature of them. I like a "shoulder" to rest my hands on.

Maybe I can dig around in the parts bin for a better alternative.

Winter 2016 Musings

I have only ridden the slushmobile once this winter, and I didn't really like it. Slow and sloggy. So I put the studded 700x32s (more like 35s) on the Trek 620 and decided to ride it as much as I could, even in the snow. It's just more fun to ride. The studs aren't as aggressive as those on the slushmobile, but I figure they'll help on surprise ice or mixed snow/pavement. So far, so good.

The next project is to put trigger shifters on the 620. The current friction shifters on the underside of the trekking bars are just too hard to use with mittens. Maybe the trigger shifters will be easier.

Mostly, I've been wearing light wool, light polar fleece, windbreaker on top, even down into the teens. Works pretty well.

OH NO It's Winter Again!

Time for more incessant obsessing about winter biking garb.

Today: 25˚ no wind.

I wore my light merino base layer, Melanzana light fleece, and windbreaker. I forgot to put on the vest, and a good thing, too. I was plenty warm. Perhaps I don't need the vest until the teens.

Lovely merino long johns, by the way. Nice.

I'm looking forward to this weekend's rutty ice melting. We're going back up to 50˚ by Thursday. Good. I paid my winter dues over the last two winters. A nice warm snow-free winter would be fine.

Ultra Distance

I keep coming back to this, folks who ride hundreds and hundreds of miles in a single session. The latest comes from a discussion of the relative merits of various tires. There are those who, like me, love Schwalbe Marathons for their toughness and can't imagine that any lack of "suppleness" makes a noticeable difference. And then someone responds (and I paraphrase) that, in a 600 KM ride, using Marathons would slow him down by an hour.

How do I process that? He's saying that when he goes out for a 360-mile ride, he wants nice supple tires so that it will only take him, say, 24 hours of riding instead of 25 hours.

Who does that? And so what if it takes 25 hours instead of 24 hours? He's missing the central point, that he's insane. Or nonexistent. I mean, I have to believe these people do what they say . . . but how? And why?

I suppose most would respond the same way to my 132-mile day last summer. But come on. I did that in 12 hours, with lots of rests. And I was plenty ready to be done at the end. Tripling that distance?

Rain Gear

Like all foul-weather bikers, I have struggled to figure out the best rain gear for my daily commutes and for longer duration exposure to the rain while touring. I have tried everything from cheapo plastic raincoats to fairly expensive "breathable" fabric raincoats, to ponchos, to just getting wet.

For commuting (5-7 miles, working up a good sweat), no raincoat has worked well. Breathable fabrics don't breathe when you are sweating hard and it's raining hard. Where can the moisture go? I haven't noticed a big difference between "breathable" fabrics and cheapo plastic.

I know some swear by dense-weave "ventile" cotton and the like, but I'm not willing to spend many hundreds on a raincoat.

So today I wore my J&G biking poncho, along with my "breathable" rain pants (with merino wool long johns underneath) and my Riv "splats" (shoe covers). Worked pretty well in a steady mist. I still swat (past tense of sweat) on my shoulders and upper back, but there's nothing to be done about that. Most of me was pretty dry. I'll continue this experiment.

I think for touring, I'll only bring the poncho in the future. The day I rode in the rain wearing my "breathable" raincoat, I ended up exactly as wet as I was on the day I rode in the rain with no raincoat. I was perhaps slightly warmer wearing the shell, but I could have achieved that by wearing wool.

Update:
After several sessions using several different ponchos, I must conclude that they have exactly the same problem as any other rain gear. I end up soaking wet from sweat on my upper back and arms, since that's where I sweat when I ride. A waterproof poncho is just a plastic bag with a head-hole, open on the bottom. In order to be effective, however, the venting would need to be on the top, where I sweat. That, of course, would let in the rain.

Perhaps the solution is to resign myself to getting wet, wearing wool for warmth when wet and a windbreaker to prevent evaporative chilling. Always have a change of clothes.

Bike Garage

And now for a compliment to my university! They have created enclosed, locked bike garages! I don't know why am so pleased by this. It has always worked fine to drag my bike up to my office. But now I'll be able to lock my bike up in a locked space that is protected from rain and snow, and just a five minute walk from my building. I hope I can rest assured that my lights and other expensive doodads won't be stolen. No more melting slush on my floor! No more amused looks as I carry my loaded bike down the stairs, in my winter biking regalia, lights flashing, gear laden baskets creaking.

I'm happy to pay the $60/yr for my two bikes.

And, in their defense, I must say that this is just one part of their obviously determined effort to promote biking on campus, from an active and fully functional bike store and repair facility, to an apparent effort to put bike lanes on every campus road.

Now if we could just get a bike lane to run to campus from the eastern suburbs, where so many faculty live.