Bike Noob

Because I'm Always Learning Something New

What “Look” Do You Go For?

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The recent post about being visible got me thinking about jerseys in general. I think it’s time the Bike Noob got some new duds. The newest jersey I own is almost two years old. And most of my jerseys lack…je ne sais quoi… panache.

But what to get? There are always team kit jerseys. I could get one for a team that competed in the Tour de France. Katusha’s is colorful. But who would I be kidding? This is the guy who leads the club B rides, then always finishes off the back — behind the slow riders. For a rider of my caliber, wearing a team jersey would be presumptuous.

Or, I could go for a jersey touting an equipment company…even a bike brand. Heck, I ride a Specialized bike…what about a Specialized jersey? But on second thought, it would look too much like a racing jersey. And would Specialized appreciate the fact that a rider as slow as I am is carrying their colors?

You can still find team kit from defunct teams. Some jerseys worn in past years are kinda cool. Some are really obscure. Many are really colorful. For example, I always liked the Mapei kit. It stands out, and not a lot of people would know what it was all about.

There seem to be lots of beer jerseys around. I drink beer. Therefore, should I wear a beer jersey? A lot of them are for obscure regional craft brewers, so they don’t appeal to me. A lot of them are overdone, in my opinion. But this Molson jersey might be a possibility. The jersey is not outrageous, Molson beer is distributed widely in the US,  but it’s not that popular — it could be a nice choice.

A rock ‘n roll jersey? Here’s a Grateful Dead skull and roses jersey.

Nah.

How about going the other direction, and choosing a plain solid color jersey? Well, that’s the reason I’m thinking about adding to my collection as it is. I’ve got some plain solid color jerseys. They’re okay, but they’re boring. I want something with a little color to it. I may have found the compromise.

Jerseys that feature a main solid color, but have enough trim to add a little dash to the look. I found these on eBay. They’re new, not used, and based on recent auction prices I’ve seen for them, they’re inexpensive as jerseys go. In a few weeks, you might see the Noob sporting something along these lines — styled like bike jerseys, but not overwhelming.

What do you think? Am I too boring? Should I shoot for something entirely different? What kind of look do you like to project when you’re on the bike?

Being Visible

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I’ve been riding along some pretty busy roads lately. Most of the time, they have shoulders. Sometimes, they don’t. And shoulders and bike lanes usually end at intersections. So being seen is something I’m always aware of.

It seems whenever I hear of a collision between a car and a bike, the driver often says something like, “I didn’t see you!” Now, that’s generally because the driver was not looking for a cyclist. They were looking for motorized traffic, so didn’t expect to see cyclists.

So I decided early on that I would try to wear clothing that is visible.

Different colors show up differently. Below is a shot from the start of a group ride I attended about a year and a half ago. (It’s kinda nice to see evidence of cooler weather — I’m sure it will be back, eventually!)

Anyway, some colors jump right out. Hi-vis green, for one. On this overcast day, the screaming color makes the cyclists wearing it stand out from the crowd. Another good choice is bright yellow, also obvious in the picture.

Less of a standout — white and black. Again, the overcast sky has an effect. White might work on a day like this, but not as well when the sun is low in the sky. Blue is a popular color. It’s one of my personal favorites, and I have three jerseys that feature blue as a dominant or prominent color. But I don’t think blue is a great choice for visibility. Note the cyclist in blue top and black shorts in the right third of the picture. Not exactly a stand out.

Red and orange show up well. I was following a group several weekends ago, and all were wearing different shades of those. My wife was in her salmon pink and orange jersey, and was riding with a woman in a red flower print top. I could see them clearly well before I could determine who they were.

So I’m at a loss to figure out why black seems to be such a popular jersey color these days. Cyclists in black seem to me to blend in with their surroundings.

In addition to being less of a standout, it strikes me that black jerseys absorb too much heat. I own a jersey with black shoulders and a blue body. I wear it often, but during this hot sunny summer weather we’re having, it is not my first choice. I pick it when my other jerseys are in the wash. Both the Sky and Leopard-Trek teams in the Tour de France wore jerseys that were predominantly black. Ugh. I can’t imagine going more than 100 miles for days on end in the summer, in black.

A lot of cyclists prefer to go the understated way, though. They don’t like to dress in high visibility colors. Why? Often, it’s because they’re engaged in cycling for reasons other than sport. Commuters, for example, would like to wear their work clothes on their bikes. Touring cyclists might want to stop and visit attractions or shops on their routes, and darker clothing makes them less conspicuous in a crowd of non-bikers. Some might think the bright colored cycling jerseys themselves are dorky looking.

Other cyclists argue that color is not important — it’s how you cycle that matters. Make yourself prominent on the road. Take the lane when necessary. Make eye contact with drivers. Just because you’re wearing high-visibility clothing doesn’t mean drivers will see you.

See Me Wear jersey

As in most issues, there can be extremes. A line of cycling gear called See Me Wear is available that — well, see for yourself:

There’s even talk of requiring high-visibility colors when cycling. New Zealand is going through a debate along those lines right now. Proponents say anything that makes cyclists more visible is a good thing. Cycling advocates argue that making mandatory a type of clothing that some might see as “dorky” would discourage some people from riding — and could lull others into a false sense of security.

You wouldn’t find me wearing one of these warning chevron jerseys. But at the same time, I’m not going to take anything for granted. I’ll do what I can to ride safely, and to make myself known to drivers. But I’ll also do it in my red or yellow jerseys, and my hi-vis green jacket. And as I add to my cycling wardrobe, I’ll favor brighter, not duller, colors.

Change Those Computer Batteries!

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As I’ve mentioned before, my wife and I are participating in training rides for the Mamma Jamma ride to support breast cancer research. Sunday’s ride was in San Marcos, Texas, the town where I work, about 30 miles south of Austin. We were both looking forward to the ride, because it would be on new roads for both of us.

But while bowling Saturday, I pulled a muscle in my hip. Walking around was painful. I wasn’t sure if riding would be smart.

Pat said she would do the 17-mile ride. There were also options for 37 and 49 miles. I wanted to do the 37, but when I walked outside to get the paper at 5:15 Sunday morning, the heat and humidity were already oppressive.

“I’m going to do the 17 with you,” I said. “It’s going to be rough out there today.”

She was glad to hear that, because it meant she wouldn’t be on her own. Not that she would be anyway, because Mamma Jamma rides always have ride leaders. Today’s were from Tough Cookies, an Austin-based women’s bike and triathlon team.

At the start, I watched enviously as the 49 and 37-milers took off. The weather wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. It was about 80 degrees, and humid like Florida (yech!), but enough clouds moved through the sky that the sun was mostly blocked. Still, I was going to favor my hip.

The 17-mile riders, as you might imagine, were the slow group. Within minutes of the start, one had tire problems. A sag car with a floor pump caught up to us, and the sweep rider started to pump up the tube. But it had a bent valve, and looked like it would take some time before it was ready. Four of us, including the Tough Cookies leader, decided we’d leave on our own.

The ride was slow, but nice. My hip didn’t hurt at all — I think the flexing did it some good. We rode some quiet country roads east of town, then crossed I-35 and traveled some more quiet country roads I’d never seen before.

I looked at my computer to check distance. Nine-point-something, it said (I have a heckuva time reading the thing without bifocals). Two or three miles later, I glanced at the computer again. Oh-oh.

Speed measured zero. Cadence measured zero. Mileage was still 9-point-something. I didn’t think we’d bounced around enough to knock the sensors off kilter. At a convenience store, we stopped to refill water bottles. The computer was blank. I checked the sensors, and they still lined up closely to the magnets. My batteries had died.

Now, this shouldn’t be a big deal, but when you’re an OCD record-keeper like I am, it can be catastrophic. I calmed down though, reminding myself that I would just take the data from the ride leader’s computer at the end.

We wound through seemingly endless rows of apartment complexes, which house students from the nearby university. Back out in the country, we made good time and reached our starting point quickly. The sun was just starting to come out from behind the clouds. I was drenched in sweat, but the breeze had cooled me during the ride, and I was quite comfortable. I walked over to Kathleen, the ride leader.

“So, what was the mileage and time?” I asked.

She looked at her computer. “Nine-point-six-eight miles,” she said. I grimaced.

“Which is wrong,” she added.

Her computer had died, too.

An acquaintance of mine makes it a point to change his computer batteries on New Year’s Day each year, “Whether they need it or not,” he says.

My batteries had died just a year after I got the computer, but these replacements were still going strong (I thought) a year and a half later. Now I know better, and I’ll be replacing them annually, too — say, on the Fourth of July.

So instead, I logged onto Map My Ride and mapped out the route. 17.8 miles. We were out there for about an hour and 50 minutes, but that included a 15-minute convenience store stop while we waited for the slower riders — who never did catch up. The average speed worked out to 13.4 mph. Okay, that’s close enough.

But I’m not going to let that happen again. Later Sunday afternoon, I hit the supermarket for some new batteries. The computer was running like a champ on my Monday morning ride.

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