Look Ma, no hands !!
Although I haven’t mentioned it for quite some time, I’m
still bike commuting one or two days each week. Last year I tried to commute on Tuesdays and
Thursdays and do intervals on the
bike on my way to work. This year I’m
using spin classes for my intervals and using my commute as recovery. Come December I’ll reclassify the commute as
base miles, but for now, they are just easy miles.
After some thought I decided to make my commute more
comfy and I’m riding a steel frame with a leather saddle and fat tires. Before
you assume I am going all “Randonneur” on you; rest assured I am not. Although I am often wearing wool, I haven’t
felt the need to photograph my meals
or buy food at gas stations so I am clearly keeping any randonneuring urges at
bay.
My commute hits the sweet spot as far as distance at
about seventeen miles (twenty-seven kilometers) each way. The distance is enough to get dressed for and
justifies bringing a bottle of water as well.
If it were much longer it would really take too much time compared to
fossil fuel powered alternatives.
I am lit up like an ambulance with three powerful red
lights flashing behind me and one red flasher pointing ahead along with a
headlight that is so bright it warms the pavement. I shamelessly subscribe to the lighting
policy of, “Better to offend some and be seen by all.” Riding in the dark with a dim tail light is
tempting fate with an eventual outcome as predictable as playing the slots in
Las Vegas.
My teammate BigJohn has a bright orange helmet that can be seen in the peloton as easily
as if he were wearing an orange traffic cone on his head. For commuting I admired his visibility enough
that I took a can of spray paint from my garage and turned my black helmet
orange.
I picked up some Planet Bike fenders that are wider and
keep the water away from me. I keep
trying new things and refining my set up with no end in sight.
I have been on the same route now for more than two
years. If you asked me what the worst section is on that route, I would point
to one stretch of about 2k where I detour because of a bad combination of
narrow shoulder and lots of traffic.
We should all be careful what we wish for because that very
section has been torn up for months with new water and sewer pipes going in and
the entire road being replaced. Why this
isn’t being done in sections is beyond me, but the result is a long stretch of
mess between my home and my office.
On my way in to work I am early enough that the
construction guys haven’t arrived yet. The last few weeks I have been able to
ride past the detour signs and through the construction mess on what is now
gravel. I can see that the new road will
be wide and likely feature a healthy bike lane.
In the meantime, I can either detour like I am used to
doing (and on my way home this remains my only option) or fight my way through
the gravel which is often harder than I expect, especially with tired legs. In the darkness before dawn the gravel does
have a unique allure that draws me to ride it.
I find my shoulders rocking as I spin through the gravel with my tires
wanting to wander.
My morning commute has been in the dark for some time now
and my return journey in the evening will be in darkness when we move the
clocks back in less than two weeks. We have had a run of thick fog that makes
this ride an adventure and ensures I have my lights charged and flashing. The
darkness and fog result in tunnel vision and forces a zen-like focus just to
stay on route.
The cooler weather also necessitates more clothing,
further slowing the journey. We had an unusually warm and long summer and I
haven’t yet cycled through all of my long sleeve jerseys. Booties and long gloves have been hiding in
the back of my drawer waiting to be called to action. I look at the gloves and winter clothing as
if they are neglected friendships. I am excited to use them again. After a
spring of road racing, a summer focused on big miles and a fall full of
Cyclocross I am looking forward to the transition to some slower rides.
There was a recent article
featuring Cyclocross racer Tim Johnson where he discussed how he felt the
label of bike racer pigeon-holed him as he considered himself more a cyclist
than a racer. I have a respect for bike commuters, road racers, mountain
bikers, Cyclocross racers, summer cyclists, randonee riders and track
cyclists. Sometimes it is nice to ride a
mile or more in someone else’s world. It
would be disappointing to have to choose only one aspect of cycling.
Back to the subject of commuting…
I still marvel at the crap that ends up in the bike
lane. I chuckle at the stuff I see
behind the signs that say, “FREE.” It
scares me when people pull out of their driveways with their car windows fogged
up. It touches me when I see a man throwing a ball for his dog to chase in the
park at five minutes past six in the morning.
I laugh out loud when I am riding through thick fog and I can see a TV
in someone’s house with a weather man telling them it is foggy outside.
I still get anxious as I approach intersections and exercise
my faith in my lights when cars come up on me from behind. I give dirty looks
to people who don’t pick up their dogs poop and smile and greet pedestrians and
runners when I can. I try to memorize
where the potholes are now that it is dark and I can’t see them and I rejoice
when they get fixed.
I feel bad that I tend to neglect the drive train on my
commuter bike and I hope if I ever run into Lennard Zinn, I’m riding a
different bike.
It feels good to have the various aspects of the commute
dialed in. When you bike commute there
are so many little things that have big consequences if forgotten that you
really appreciate getting them right.
Things like my bike lock, keys to home, keys to the office, my phone,
not to mention forgetting my glasses can all be game ending mistakes.
When I get home the preparation for the next commute
starts as I hang my gloves to dry. If my shoes are wet they go on the boot
dryer. Rain jacket and booties get hung
to dry. I have two riders worth of clothing to wash. A quick shower and a nice hot meal and life is
good.
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