Bike Noob

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Archives for October 2011

An Urban Bike For the Road

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Way back in 1992, we decided we’d like to do some biking. There was one hitch: My wife, Pat, had a 10-speed Schwinn road bike, but hated it. Her back hurt when she bent over the bars, she never did get the hang of shifting the gears, and it was clear that doing anything over a couple miles would end badly. The answer, of course, was to buy a new bike.

We hit several bike shops in the area, and came up with a hybrid — a Trek 700. It served her well for its intended purpose. We didn’t ride much in town, but did throw our bikes in the trunk of the car and drove to the paved bike trails in southeastern Minnesota. Here, we could ride for miles — safely — and Pat did just fine on the hybrid.

The Trek 700. Pat still rides this three times a week. (Click to enlarge.)

Fast forward 15 years. Pat was president of a local professional organization that sponsored one of the big organized rides around Austin: the Hill Country Ride for AIDS. It was a 50-mile ride, but Pat figured that as president, she should step up, so she started going on training rides with a group of AIDS ride organizers. Her bike-savvy friends pointed out all manner of problems with her bike: The 38mm tires were too wide to go fast (a popular misconception), she needed clipless pedals to add power to her pedal stroke, she really needed a road bike, etc., etc.

Pat rejected the road bike idea, but went to the LBS on a shopping spree. She got Look Keo pedals, 28mm tires, and had them put on a taller stem that put her in an even more upright riding position to take pressure off her arthritic hip. She completed the 50-miler on that bike, and when I saw that, I figured I could do it too. That’s when the Bike Noob really started biking.

The six-speed freewheel (brand new this week) works with a triple chainring and twist grip shifters. The tall stem is evident in the picture at right.

We just had the six-speed freewheel replaced and a new chain put on. “It’s like a brand new bike,” Pat said. Earlier this year, I replaced her worn tires with a brand I’d never heard of before — fyxation. They bill themselves as a company that caters to urban bikers, and their Sessions model of tire has a puncture-resistant diamond tread. Pat’s flatted only once on these — they’re terrific tires.

The distinctive diamond tread of the fyxation tires is visible here, as are the cantilever brakes.
The Look Keo pedals ("I've never seen these on a hybrid before," said our bike mechanic) and the Specialized Dolce gel saddle ("It's okay," says Pat).

Pat is still on the same bike. She’s got a repertoire of neighborhood rides of nine, 12, and 16 miles, and will occasionally join me on an organized ride where she can do 30 miles or so.  It’s her main form of exercise, and exercise is the main reason she rides.

Pat reaches the top on a ride in the Texas Hill Country.

For people who are leery of taking up biking because of the bent-over riding position, this could be the answer. As you get more experience, a few tweaks will let you stretch your riding limits. Who knows? You might even decide to take the plunge and upgrade to a road bike anyway. The next bike purchase in this house will not be for me — it’ll be for Pat.

“If You’re Just a Courteous Rider…”

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One of the rides I took this past summer got me thinking. It was in an area close to where I work, but since I work 30 miles from where I live, I don’t often make the trip there just to ride my bike.

But this was an informal group ride. We broke into several smallish groups, depending upon the distance we planned to ride. I was in the 41-mile group. We left the parking lot behind a large outlet shopping center and reached country roads almost immediately. I was reminded how much I enjoy riding in the area as we were pedaling down a narrow road under a canopy of trees. In our record hot and dry summer, it was nice to ride in the shade for several miles.

The roads snaked in and out of forest and farmland. The hills added interest without adding pain. I was out in front of the small group I was with, when one of the guys on the ride caught me at a turn. We pedaled side by side for a bit, then he started a conversation.

“Are you from Austin?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I really enjoy riding here. You get in the country so quickly.”

“Yep,” he said. “The roads are good, the traffic is light, and I never get the finger or get honked at by drivers.” It turned out he was from that area, and rode these roads often.

“One person told me once that there’s a difference between the farmers east of the interstate and the ranchers to the west,” I said. “The farmers are nicer to bikers.”

“That could very well be,” he replied. “But I also think that if you’re just a courteous rider, that goes a long way toward keeping drivers friendly.”

Now there’s a short and simple biking philosophy. Just be courteous. I thought about it for awhile. I would have pursued the conversation, but by this time, the other rider was well ahead of me.

We talk a lot about the rights of cyclists, especially when we read news accounts of cyclists who have been seriously hurt, or even killed, in mishaps with motor vehicles. We ask for things like three-foot passing distances, designated bike lanes in town, the right to ride in traffic without worrying that we’ll get clipped from behind by an impatient driver.

But what if we just rode courteously?

And how is courteously different from vehicular cycling?

I think it’s a combination of things. It’s riding like you’re a vehicle, obeying all the traffic laws such as stopping at red lights and stop signs (I said stopping at stop signs — not looking both ways and barreling through). It’s signaling turning, slowing, and stopping.

But it’s also using common sense. If a car is coming from behind, ease over a little more to the right so he doesn’t have to endanger himself by crossing a double yellow line into oncoming traffic. That’s provided you have room to do so with endangering yourself, of course. It’s making yourself visible — we’ve talked about this just recently — by sitting tall in the saddle and wearing bright colors. It’s riding without antagonizing drivers.

What the other biker said out on that country road during a glorious ride was right on the money, I thought. Courtesy goes a long way. I’m going to do my part to spread it further.

 

 

I Missed the Turn

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I looked forward to our Sunday club ride, because it went to Creedmoor — one of my favorite turnaround spots. It’s just a nice 39-mile jaunt, much of it through countryside. I probably do that route twice a month.

This time, the club president and A-ride leader said he would do a “reverse” Creedmoor route. Okay, fine by me — although I wasn’t exactly sure which roads he would travel on a “reverse” route, since I usually do Creedmoor as an out-and-back.

Only one other B rider checked in at the start, although two A riders told me they would turn around when I did. We set off.

The good hill about three miles into the ride is where we tend to break into groups. This time, I stayed with the pack. Either I’m getting better, or they were riding a little slower. I don’t think I’m getting better. Several miles later, we turn onto a four-lane city street that is a long uphill. A gentle grade, but I don’t do long grades well. I rapidly fell into my customary ride position: off the back.

We were into semi-suburban neighborhoods. It wouldn’t be too long before we left the city behind. But everybody was leaving me behind. On yet another long, easy incline, I lost more ground to the pack. The route turned, and we had to cross Interstate 35. This involved getting into the left lane for two left turns — not my favorite place to ride. But traffic was still light at 8:45 a.m., and I set out in pursuit of the peloton.

Now, we were on the shoulder of a farm-to-market road — Route 1327. In Texas, these are pretty good roads, and this shoulder was nice and wide. The landscape was rolling hills. I saw the group on the hill ahead of me, and then lost them as they crested a hill and started down the other side.

When I got to the top of the hill, I was astounded. Those guys (and three women) must really be pouring on the steam today. They were nowhere in sight. I sighed, and settled into a steady pace, knowing that I would catch the group at the convenience store. They’d take a rest stop there, and the Bs would turn back while the As would continue on.

Still, I couldn’t figure out what had happened. I know the peloton pulls everyone along, but they couldn’t have been going that much faster than me. Then it occurred to me. They had turned on one of the country roads that feed into this road from the right.

This was the “reverse” route the A leader had picked. Of course! They turn onto the first country road after the interstate. I, in my oblivious state, had sailed right by it. I could always stop and go back, and try to catch them. But that would be hopeless. I would just stay on the farm-to-market road and head for the store.

After several miles of rollers I got there, and no one from the club had showed up yet — although about 25 riders from a local shop ride pulled in a few minutes later. Then, here came Buddy. He was the other B rider this morning.

“You turned on Turnersville Road, didn’t you?” I called out to him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I looked back because you weren’t there, and then I saw you continue on 1327. I yelled and waved, but you didn’t look my way.” He turned around and followed me, but was too far back to catch up.

The two other A riders who said they would come with us stayed with the group for their entire 50-mile ride. Buddy and I headed back to town, swapping the lead, and I enjoyed finishing the ride relatively fresh. In mid-summer, this ride beats me up.

A few months ago, I griped about people in a group ride not bothering to familiarize themselves with the route beforehand. This day, our ride leader had posted a turn-by-turn cue sheet online, but I hadn’t downloaded it. I just assumed it would go where I went. Well, we all know what assuming can do. Shame on me.

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