Off-roading, Bike camping

Before I continue, I should mention that we spent most of our time yesterday with our heavily-loaded bikes pointed South, into an 18-25 MPH headwind. Keep that in mind as you read this.

It wasn't exactly an S24O trip. I left at 8 in the morning to ride to church yesterday, since it's close to the Price Chopper. Locked up at church:


At about noon, though, I left for Price Chopper, went inside and scored a quick lunch at the deli. Shortly thereafter, Randy pulled up. Randy wasn't going to be able to camp with us, but he's going on a week-long bike tour soon and wanted to shake down his new gear, namely his front rack and pannier setup. His plan was to ride to Hillsdale Lake with us then return home. Soon, commuterDude showed up. This was who RSVPd. It'd be a small group, but it would afford us a lot of flexibility on route, schedule and whatnot.



I recalled a shortcut through Spring Hill that Randy showed me last time we went out this way, and asked him to take us along a similar route outbound. We'd end up taking Ridgeview to 207th, then west to Woodland, before winding through some residential stuff to get through Spring Hill. We'd barely touch the main drag through town (Webster) before hopping on Victory Road, which turns to gravel just south of town.


Victory doesn't cut all the way through, though. The first time I did this S24O, I made a quick stop by the railroad bridge on 239th which was about 1/8 mile out of the way, then went West on 239th. Our group stopped for a quick break in the shade by the bridge.


Overhead, we heard something. We thought it may have been a railroad maintenance truck. It certainly wasn't a train. We walked up to see what was above the bridge. Lo and behold, there was an un-used railbed alongside the existing track. We may have heard a four-wheeler, for all I know. At first glance, this railbed looked a bit like a rails-to-trails path, maybe a bit rougher. We decided to go for it. We took a little access road to get to it, and didn't see any signs or gates stating we couldn't use it. Randy is using a Long Haul Trucker with 1.95" tires. He's The Dirt Bum, for crying out loud. He does this all the time. cDude and I, though, were quickly descending into a habit of pushing the limits of our bikes. Modern bicycle marketing being what it is, we were using "the wrong kind of bike" for this stuff. It's not so apparent in this photo, but as we got further south, we'd encounter track ballast on the railbed, made of large chunks of flint, slate and limestone. Our skinny little tires would wobble hither to yon, searching for solid ground below the boulders as our high-pressure road tires launched some of the smaller rocks out like bullets with god-awful noises. Ping! Thwack!


After a few miles, we ended up at a dead-end railroad crossing near Columbia Rd. No idea what it was there for, but we crossed the tracks and hit more gravel.


There was an interesting abandoned bridge just off Columbia Rd that appears to be a historic bridge for the same road from God-knows-how-long-ago.


A little better picture of it, but I should have backtracked up the road a bit to get a better shot.


We continued south to get to 255th St in the heart of old downtown Hillsdale Kansas. We'd stop at the convenience store to fill our bottles up, and that's when "Underbiking" happened.

Usually, we'd head west to the lake, but we continued south on Hedge Lane (old KC Road) and found more gravel on 271st. We rode that out to Woodland Rd, which featured some not-so-subtle hills. In these parts, there are maybe 20 people who have any legitimate need to use the road. It's all farmland.


Once we got to 287th street, Woodland ostensibly ended with a "Minimum Maintenance Required" sign. As cDude put it, "Their idea of maintenance was to put that sign up a long time ago and forget about it." - I'm paraphrasing a bit, probably, but however it is he said it, I couldn't have put it any better.


I didn't get any pictures of the sloppier parts of this road. It continues on for about a mile, and parts of woodland are impassable for any 4-wheel vehicle not purpose-built for mudbogging. We, on our trusty two-wheel steeds were able to navigate around the behemoth mud puddles, but both cDude and I found ourselves stopping a few times to clear mud out of our fenders and low-clearance road brake calipers. 3 or 4 times, my own bike completely clogged up and neither front nor rear wheel would spin at all. The muddy trail turned west, placing us on a ruttier and rockier section of "road" that is supposed to be 295th St. These vestigial roads have long out-lived their usefulness. They go nowhere and are needed by no one. They're enjoyed by off-roaders of all types, though. Yesterday, that was us. We'd hit Victory road, where suddenly the gravel was even again. After the previous section, it might as well have been the Bonneville Salt Flats for all I was concerned.

We veered south to 299th St and went west, crossing the southern dam of Miola lake, where lots of people were enjoying the long weekend. I was already completely out of water and had borrowed a bottle from cDude. We stopped at an RV station and used their drinking water refill nozzle to refill our bottles and hose our bikes off to clear out enough of the clay mud from our brakes and fenders to allow our wheels to spin freely again. I was also burning up and covered in salty sweat crystals. I took the liberty of hosing myself down with the nozzle. Might as well, right? I think Randy got a picture of that.

We hopped over to Hedge lane, then weaved our way through various rural byways and another stretch of minimum-maintenance stuff that doesn't even show up on a map, featuring a weathered, repeatedly repaired creek bridge that's obviously failed more than once under the weight of crossing vehicles. My wheels clogged once more, and we finally made it to Lake Rd, where the entrance to Hillsdale State Park was waiting for us. Randy parted ways, while cDude and I forged onward to the camp site, where both of us leaned our bikes on the first available lean-worthy structure, and ceremoniously cracked open the beer we brought along. Somehow, his was still cold. My Boulevard Wheat was in a pannier water bottle holder. It was warm and covered in dust, but it was still the best beer I've ever tasted.

My wife showed up to hang out with us at the camp site for a while just as we finished setting up our tents and locking the bikes up. We unloaded a few more cold beers from the cooler, and settled in for supper. Me? Reconstituted freeze dried stuff. Dude made bean burritos. We both used soda-can alcohol stoves.


As night fell, we found some abandoned fire wood to set up. I carved a skewer, and we roasted some marshmallows I'd packed away.


We had some good conversation, cleaned up and hit the sack pretty early. I never touched the fishing gear I packed, and kind of wished I had packed a camp pad in its place to go with my bedroll. Lessons learned for future trips. It didn't bother me much last year, but I must be getting old. This is a 64-second-long exposure of our galaxy's core, as taken with a cheap point-and-shoot camera.


Breakfast was two tylenol, french-pressed coffee and scrambled eggs. cDude fashioned a brew basket out of a PBR can, and used a drip filter and coffee grounds he brought from home. Once coffee was made, he did oatmeal. Why didn't I think of oatmeal?!


By 9:00, we had everything packed up, and rolled out shortly there after. To say we took a different way home is an understatement! A quick stop by Lake & Dale again, and we bee-lined it home from there. You can still see the clay mud on my tires. I wrapped all of my dirty clothes up in my commute towel and lashed it down. They were muddy and damp, no sense in putting that stuff in my panniers.


A carbon-riding, camelbak-wearing roadie blasted past us on old KC Road, and I exchanged greetings with him. He was thankful for the tailwind heading north. He got up the road a ways, and I started taking my pull. We had a pretty good clip going, but when I ran out of steam, the race was on. I watched cDude reel the poor guy in. I really wish I could have been there to see the look on his face, being passed by a guy on a loaded steel bike.

I eventually caught up with Keith in Spring Hill. From there, it was an easy ride back with most of the hills behind us and a good push from the south winds. At 159th and Ridgeview, Keith and I bumped fists and parted ways and I continued home, using a good part of my usual commute route.

Stats:
Pack Weight: 27.2 pounds
Distance: 82.8 miles
Elapsed Rolling Time: 7h 17m 14s
Average speed: 11.36 MPH
Max speed: 28.1 MPH

Underbiking

The ride to Hillsdale Lake was very much the brainchild of Randy from http://kansascyclist.com - We took a few miles of gravel on Victory Rd. This ended up being a bit of a gateway drug to insanity. Initially we hopped on a section of railbed to get us from Victory to Columbia Rd. Then we took a short break at Lake & Dale. Next thing I knew, Randy was asking if we wanted some more offroad action. Thinking along the lines of railbed, I agreed and so did CommuterDude. What followed was an additional 15 miles, almost all of which wasn't just gravel, but No Maintenance "road" with ruts, mud and craziness. More Pictures and fun tomorrow after I get home...

Everything is in the panniers!

I jettisoned some of my gear at thr last minute. Now, even the tent and bed roll fit in the panniers. The tent poles are too long, so I am using the trick I saw Apertome use: strapping them to the top tube.

Getting ready to camp, August Recap

I usually prepare for camping or backpacking a few days early. We're doing the S24O Sunday into Monday and right now it looks like a relatively small turn-out. That's fine with me either way.

I don't know if I ever wrote about it here, but a while ago, Planet Bike sent me their "Keep On Keeping On" rack, a lightweight, strong utilitarian bike rack weighing in at just over a pound but being rated to carry 55 pounds. I've been using it since June, but never have gotten around to really loading it up. It doesn't have a spring-clip (sad panda) but otherwise, it's got the features I like. You know, like rear supports that don't turn my panniers into spoke-food?

I figured I'd load up my stuff (click to see an annotated version of what everything is)


And make sure things were all good:


Looks like all systems are go. Then, I found out that my wife would like to spend all weekend camping. So we'll be heavy camping (propane, coolers, etc) Friday and Saturday, too.

I found out cDude was planning on cooking over campfire. That's not a bad plan, but the wood you can buy at Hillsdale lake is usually green, uncured wood that's nearly impossible to start. I told him I'd rig up a penny stove to see how he likes it. Just in case. The end result was one that uses the jets coming out the side so that the pot can simply rest directly on top of the can for support.



Crappy composite, I know... but it shows how it works.


It brought 2 cups of water to a boil in about 4 minutes. It's certainly not a world record, but it's faster than the one I made last year.


The thing I love about these soda can stoves is that you just need 2 cans, a razor or pair of scissors and a finishing nail or small drill to make them. Well, and a penny or some other round metal object to act as a pressure valve over the filler hole. The fuel is really the most expensive part. Mark my words: knowing how to make these things will make you a hot commodity during the zombie apocalypse. Or something.

As for August... it was awesome and crappy all at once. I logged 275 miles commuting, and more for errands. I didn't have a cyclometer the entire time. I'm pretty sure I got more than 300 miles total this month. I'm not too worried about counting them this year, though. The mornings have been stellar:



The afternoons have been everywhere between the 70s and over 100 degrees, with one day sporting a heat index near 120! Multiple traffic closures and detours have slowed I-35 down to a slog. In the mornings when I'm riding along I-35 and with the direction of traffic, I'm often riding faster than the cars on the highway are moving, for extended periods of time. This has, of course, resulted in a lot of motorists rat-running the highway and opting for the side-streets such as the ones I use to get around.

Also, some old guy on a $2,800 Serotta Colorado keeps passing me every morning. At least he's friendly, but yep, I'm still slow.

August Tunage on heavy rotation:
First State - As You Were
Gravity Kills - Guilty
Barlow Girl - Enough
Golan Globus - Blazer (2005 Radio Edit)
Burn In Noise - Raca
God Lives Underwater - Rearrange
Stabbing Westward - Save Yourself
Duran Duran - Ordinary World
Grand National - Talk Amongst Yourselves (Sasha Involver Remix)
Madonna - The Power Of Goodbye
First State - Reverie

Bike Camping, Labor Day Weekend

Where: Meet at the South Olathe Price Chopper, 159th and Mur-Len. Not 151st. 159th.
When: Sunday, Sept. 5th, 2010 at Noon
Plan: Ride out to Hillsdale State Park, set up camp preferably near the Crites Boat Ramp campground

I'm scratching the idea of a northern meeting spot, because I'm probably going to ride to church that morning (yes, fully loaded) It's only a mile from the meeting spot.

Email me for more details and to RSVP.

More than half.

The first three motorists to pass me this afternoon on my homeward trip were either talking on their phones or looking down and frobbing something, almost assuredly dialing or texting. The fourth motorist that passed me had one hand on the wheel, the other hand out the window and seemed to actually be paying attention to the road. Coasting down the hill toward Deluxe Check Company, I realized that today's commuting game would be "count the texters" and I'd already counted one seemingly undistracted motorist. I might as well count those, too.

This highly unscientific survey didn't count cars that had windows too tinted for me to see the driver, or cars that were simply too close to one another for me to get a good look inside. The grand total, though: 59 people on the phone. 47 people not on the phone. More than half.

There's a lot of commercial traffic on my route. Semi tractors, commercial vans, delivery trucks and motorcycle riders made up the lion's share of motorists who were not on the phone. In fact, not a single commercial driver appeared to be on a phone, period. There are probably company rules about this, so it's not that much of a surprise.

Granted, there are hands-free speakerphones, bluetooth headsets and many other variables to consider. I was just keeping count. I'm frankly a little bit disturbed by my findings.

Then, there was my friend Andy, who -- for some inexplicable reason -- decided to wave at me by holding a 20" recumbent bicycle wheel out his driver's side window as we crossed paths... Yes, really.

Ah, weekend.

I had my (great) 90-day review at work and it totally doesn't feel like I've been at my new job for three whole months!

From mid-2006 to the first week of 2010, I was a tiny cog in a mega-corporation and my primary job responsibility was to make the red piece of a pie graph look smaller for some guys in big, cushy offices. I was told four times per year that I was exceeding management's expectations and was rarely ever given much more feedback than that. These days, I love what I do and who I work with. I'm constantly challenged with new aspects of the things I'm passionate about: security, systems administration and helping people understand technology in their own terms. I genuinely feel appreciated, too. My team is efficient and forthcoming with very short feedback cycles. That makes all the difference in the world.

Last week was one of the hottest weeks on record. It makes me really glad I live so close to work these days. The weekend brought sweet relief. Many of my pals put in a lot of bike miles today. It feels really strange to say that 89 degrees with 45% relative humidity feels mild, but it really was a nice break from the heat. After church, my wife and I met some friends at a local fishing lake, where I finally got to test out my new baitcasting reel. It took a few casts to get the hang of it, but now I can see why this style of reel is so popular. It casts far if you want it to, very precisely and operates much smoother than my other closed-face and spin-casting reels. My wife and friends caught a few bluegill. I ended up feeding the fish.


Argiope Aurantia (So-called "Garden Spiders") have always been my favorite spiders. When I was growing up in Nebraska, they were everywhere. They're very tame, don't bite and make zig-zag silk inserts into their webs. They're also some of the biggest spiders you'll find native to this part of the country. This female specimen has a leg-span of nearly four inches!


Random Tunage:
Barlow Girl - Enough (excellent Chris Tomlin cover)
Burn In Noise - ERT

August

The relentless triple digit temperatures might have been a clue, but I never really believe it's August until I see a Cicada up close.


By the way, I always knew these guys had a proboscis. I didn't know they used it on people. According to wikipedia, they don't "bite" on purpose, but this one got my hand. It felt like a big mosquito bite.

Cart rage in aisle three

I typically ambulate at a fairly good pace as far as plain old walking is concerned. The highly scientific and precise measurement as performed on a cheap home-gym dreadmill says I walk at 3.6 MPH, which, from what I can tell, is a bit faster than average.

I don't particularly care for walking. I avoid walking for transportation for all but the closest of destinations. If it's more than a few blocks and it's at all possible to ride a bike, I'll take the bike. Until such time as it becomes socially acceptable to ride one's bicycle through the aisles of the supermarket, that's at least one place I'll be forced to use my own two feet.

Despite my relatively quick gait, I actually had a lady behind me on my way out of the store this evening muttering "Come on. Move!" just loud enough for me to hear.

Related: I happened across a minivan with the license plate "KEWLGMA" that, according to another highly scientific instrument bolted to my handlebars, was incapable of exceeding 20 MPH in a 45 MPH zone. She was certainly a grandma. No, I didn't pass her. I drafted that thing! Thanks for the pull, granny. Perhaps that's how she earned the "kewl" label. I know she didn't earn it by holding up traffic.

* Title roughly based on a facebook comment from Bill Burns.

Random Tunage:
First State ft. Sarah Howells - Reverie
Alpha 9 - Come Home

Face-melting heat, Park Street, brine and coconut sunscreen

A new personal heat record: 118*F heat index. Ouch.

I had a good tailwind, and I think I'd have preferred a headwind in this heat. On the flat stretches of road, I could easily go fast enough to get some breeze, and it wasn't too bad. Going up hills, my speed would often match the wind's. Combined with 50% relative humidity and triple-digit ambient temperatures, that's no good. I really did feel like my face was melting off. A few times, I squirted my eyes with water to drive the stinging brine away from them. And all this on a relatively short commute.

I had some errands to run on the way home, and I'd usually take Pflumm. Pflumm is an arterial road that doesn't have any highway interchanges. If you count the small curvy northernmost section labeled "Quivira Drive", Pflumm cuts through all of Johnson County and the biggest intersection you'll ever have to deal with is Shawnee Mission Parkway. It's a decent road to ride on, but it's still an arterial road with hurried motorists. Today, I opted for Park Street instead. Park is a short road that runs parallel to Pflumm two blocks to the west and only for a little ways near Old Town Lenexa. It's very residential. It's got tree coverage. People sit out on their front porches and wave.

It reminds me how vitally important a good route is for us bicycle commuters, and how often finding a good route involves riding just a block or two away from the big roads you normally think of when planning your trips.

Finally, a few blocks from home I rode past a small, private pool for one of the nearby neighborhoods. I caught a very strong whiff of coconut-scented suntan lotion. I might not have air conditioning for my commute, but motorists miss a lot of little things in their hermetically-sealed transportation bubbles.

Random Tunage:
Dresden & Johnston feat. Nadia Ali - That Day (Tritonal Air Up There Mix)
New Order - True Faith (The Morning Sun Extended Remix)

Oontz.

It's no secret that I really like electronic music. Last night, The Crystal Method came to town to throw down a 5-hour-long DJ set at Lucky Strike Lanes. I had to go, and I dragged commuterDude with me. We carpooled.





Even though Lucky Strike Lanes is a bit of an upscale venue, it didn't stop the ravers from coming out to play.





And maybe cDude got into it a little, too...


It was a great show and of course they threw down some TCM originals mixed in with a lot of other stuff, like only they could.

Perimeter Lighting

While I'm going on about things that have been annoying me lately, let me talk about one of the most sinister automobile features ever: Perimeter lighting.

That's the name for the feature that turns on a car's headlights, tail lights, park lights, and (most horrifyingly) reverse lights when the owner unlocks the car with the remote key fob. That means when I'm leaving my own apartment at about the same time as everyone else in the morning, I get about 5 or 6 cars that suddenly appear to be applying the brake and shifting into reverse. Thanks to dense parking and dark tinted windows, there's often no real way to tell which of them will back out in front of me or if there even any drivers in the cars to begin with.

If it wasn't for the reverse lights, I might not be quite so annoyed. I'm convinced that there's a front row seat in hell reserved for the person who thought it was a good idea to engage the reverse lights when the car isn't actually in reverse.

Have a better idea?

I've written much on the state of the horrible railroad crossings on my new commute route. This is my usual approach to crossing them:


When I see a break in traffic, I creep out toward the center line to make it abundantly clear that I absolutely need the whole width of the lane. As I approach the crossing, I pull a zig-zag maneuver that lets me cross the rails more or less perpendicular. If I don't do the first step, I get cars that give me barely enough room to cross them in the direction of the road, much less the ability to cross the rails safely.

Have any better ideas? This trick earned my my first angry honk this morning. I suppose it's not bad for having to do this twelve times per day, five days per week for the past 2 and a half months.

18.3 MPH Average

... On the fixie. According to the little top speed calculator thingy I made, that means I had an average cadence of about 94 RPM. I plugged in the specs for the Wabi Special: 2090mm tire circumference, 46T chainring and 18t cog, and played with cadence until I got it right.

I was probably hitting 130 in some spots, and holding over 100 RPM for most of the way, dropping down to climb the three bigger hills on my homeward trip, which took about 5 minutes less than usual. This is a quick pace for me even when I'm on the road bike, where I can sustain 25 MPH for a good part of my trip if I feel like hammering it.

About a week ago, I got tired of the platform pedals and the ass-hatchet of a saddle. I swapped my SPDs and Bontrager saddle over from The Twelve. Those changes made the Wabi Special even more enjoyable to ride than before. The OEM saddle doesn't get along with me at all, and clipless pedals or rat traps go a long way on fixed gear. Without some kind of attachment system, high cadence spinning seems both disconcerting and dangerous. With clipless, I felt much more in control and more in touch with the pavement than before.

I'm probably going to be finished reviewing this bike at the end of this week. There will be a fixie-shaped hole in my life when I send this beauty back home to Los Angeles.

Fear.

I like storms. I even like riding in storms. It's not often that I fear the weather; Your chances of getting sucked up into a Swirling Vortex of Doom or getting struck by lightning are pretty slim.

Last night, I got scared.

The skies were ominous when I left, and there was a strong wind out of the north. I didn't have my waterproof backpack with me, so I'd wrapped my phone up in a plastic bag. I was ready for rain and headwind. Some co-workers offered me a ride home, but their sedans wouldn't accommodate my bike, and I didn't feel like messing with the bolted front axle to remove the wheel so it'd fit in a trunk. They wished me good luck. That made my day, at least.

Riding across 113th, there were a few times I was nearly blown straight off the road by crosswind. Once I got myself into a headwind situation on Santa Fe Trail Drive, I was okay. I had to put my sunglasses on because the wind was blowing debris at me with stinging force. Then came the first few sprinkles and even more wind, clawing at my forearms and calves. All while trying to hold a straight, assertive line on the road. A kind man in a pickup drove next to me for a while and asked if I needed a ride. I thanked him and waved him on. I'd later regret that.

After a few miles, the deluge set in, and it was like riding into a sandblaster nozzle. There was zero visibility and the driving rain caused burning pain on all my exposed skin, even my scalp as it drove its way through the vents in my helmet. Lightning strikes were landing way too close for comfort and finally drove me to find the nearest overpass to wait under for a while. It's easy to write off a lightning strike as a one-in-a-million probability until you've heard the sharp sound of arcing electricity right before you feel the thunder a few times in a row.

Shortly after getting back out on the road, I would find myself being passed far-too-closely by a lane-straddling semi as I tried to go over one of the gnarlier railroad crossings. Despite my assertive lane position, I didn't get nearly enough room, and I couldn't make a perpendicular cross like I usually do. The rear tire hit the second rail, lost traction, and tried sliding right out from under me. I managed to stay shiny side up without stopping, thanks to fixed gears' natural tendency to be easier to control in low-traction conditions. I would have looked for the plate number of the truck, but it had stopped to wait for a left turn and I didn't feel like waiting around.

The rest of the trip was uneventful as can be when you're dealing with storms. At least I felt refreshed when I got home, even if I did have to wring three gallons of water out of my backpack, clothes and shoes.

July DSR - Unofficial Lenexa Midnight Bike Ride alternative

I opted for a smaller group this time, as you can tell. Almost half of the people who had initially said "Yes" to the ride bailed out yesterday (for completely legitimate reasons), leaving eight intrepid souls to take the ride. I'm bad with names, so I can't remember Drew's guests names, but there was also Badger, Darius, Eric, Ben and myself.


Eric was rocking his brand new Surly LHT, which he's just picked up. I'm jealous. More and more of my serious commuting friends have some kind of nice steel touring bike.

I met Ben on the bus last year. He normally rides the whole way (College and Quivira-ish to Downtown) but had gotten a flat and retreated to the B bus, which I happened to be riding. It wasn't even my normal route. He brought this fixed gear bike out for the ride. I noticed that it wasn't just painted white, but it's almost completely covered in reflective material:


Outside the cave entrance.


Ben, Eric and I hit IHOP afterward, then parted ways. It was a really late night.

Also: Substation with a half-moon over it.

Lenexa Midnight Bike Ride

The Lenexa Midnight Bike Ride changed its route again. It's coming up this Saturday night.

There are rumors (started by me, of course) that there will be an alternative to this ride that promises to be more fun for experienced cyclists who like riding at night. This is the official Dark Side Ride for July. This is the closest I'm going to get to announcing it publicly. Contact me via email for details. I will not respond to in-blog comments about this ride.

Just take the lane.

A few things combined prompted this.

1. Dave Moulton had a nice rant.
2. St. Charles county wants to ban bicycles on certain roads.
3. People want to debate about bikes on roads and where they should ride.
4. I posted about "Gutter Bunnies" on BikeCommuters.com
   
5. Someone in Johnson County got injured badly by riding into an under-construction gutter seam.
6. Eric points out this awesome animation about the perils of a shy, cowardly curb-hugger vs. a savvy, confident cyclist.

Click the links. I don't have a lot to add here, other than to say that I generally ride my bike about where a car's right wheel normally sits in the lane, or 18-24" out from the gutter seam or fog line most of the time. I rarely have any problems riding here, and in the past few years of riding like this, I can count on one hand the number of times it's actually resulting in someone honking at me from behind in anger.

Early commute

Server maintenance this morning. Wet roads. Took The Twelve.


Random Tunage:
Energy 52 - Cafe del Mar (Kenny Hayes Remix)
Coldplay - Talk (Junkie XL Remix)

Weather Rage

Back in late July 2008, I rode home from downtown KC to Lenexa with an ambient temperature of 101°F, relative humidity of 37% and a heat index of 108*F. That was my hottest day on the bike of all time.

Today's ambient temperature wasn't nearly as hot, but at nearly 60% relative humidity, the heat index blew my previous record out of the water.

Let's ask Rage Guy what he has to say about this.

Rage Guy?


Yeah. That's about how I feel, too.

Random Tunage:
Orbital - Desert Storm
Libra - Anomaly

Behold, the watt.

"In terms of Classical mechanics, one watt is the rate at which work is done when an object's velocity is held constant at one meter per second against constant opposing force of one newton."

Blah, blah, blah. What the hell is a newton anyway?

Just kidding. I'm a nerd. I know what all of this means. Basically, a watt is a way to express the rate at which work is being done. When you're dealing with electricity, volts x amperes = watts. I actually think that transposes to mechanics easier than the crazy jibberish above.

The weight you apply to the pedals is like Volts. The speed you're cranking on them is like amperes. The combined work being done can, in fact, be expressed in watts.

I mentioned this a few days ago: fixed gear doesn't seem to have slowed me down at all. When I first hopped on the Wabi Special, I gave myself twice the time to get to work, just in case. I figured that I'd have a hard time climbing hills. I also figured I'd have to take it slow going downhill. To me, this whole thing sounded like a recipe for a slower commute. I got to work as fast as usual. Maybe faster. I didn't have a cyclometer, but total elapsed time with stops was 25 minutes, which is par for the course. This has been puzzling me for a few days. I keep leaving a little early. I keep thinking maybe I'm just hammering it harder than usual to make up for the time. I keep getting to work in 25 minutes. The return trip home is also about the same. What's going on?

When I'm riding on my own, I tend to fall into this pace. It's not particularly fast, but it's not very slow, either. I always thought this had something to do with my pedaling cadence. I'd adjust my gearing to keep my cadence somewhat stable.

Riding fixed gear, though, I've found out that I have settled into roughly the same pace, even though my cadence is all over the place. I'm now starting to understand how this all works. It's not about cadence, it's about watts. Without being able to trade-off effort for crank revolutions with dozens of gearing combinations, I still exert roughly the same amount of energy per minute regardless which bike I'm on. I just push harder on the uphills than I normally would, and spin faster than usual on flat land. The same amount of energy exerted moves the bike roughly the same speed on average.

Bonus: the fixed-gear drivetrain is actually more efficient and feels more connected to the road. You'd have to try it to know what I mean. The end-result is a remarkably simple, efficient and fun way to get around, so long as you don't have many steep hills around.

Mystery solved.

Danger Panda

This shot from a few weeks ago got me a finalist spot in a photo contest on Brightkite, a service I use to help me blast my pictures, announcements and whatnot onto various social media platforms. The prize? A Brightkite T-Shirt.

Danger Panda time.

Remember the burn?

Those of you who started riding a bike in the last 5 years or so will probably remember with a certain fondness how badly the muscles in your legs hurt the morning after your first ride. My first few times riding 2 miles each way to the bus stop felt like huge journeys. When I woke up in the morning, my feet would ache. My quads and calves would burn.

For me, riding 6.2 miles each way now feels like a short and easy trip. It's highly enjoyable. When I wake up these days, I feel refreshed. Bike commuting does that to you. It gets you into better shape and changes your mood. And if you ride every day at a pace you enjoy, you really won't tone your muscles any more. They'll get used to it.

Yesterday, I rode 13 miles on the Fixed-Gear Wabi Special. It took me about a mile to get used to riding fixed gear Wednesday night. Yesterday's commute went great. Fixed gear is fun! Although I had to hop out of the saddle for some of the hills, It's really no more total work to get around on a fixie than it is with any other bike. Gears just trade effort for time and distance. You don't need to mash as hard on the pedals to climb in a lower gear, but you have to turn the cranks more times to get to the top. Total work done to climb a hill is roughly the same either way you do it.

One thing I noticed, though, is that fixed gear forces you to use a bunch of muscle groups that, as far as I can tell, most normal cyclists don't use too often. I could tell yesterday that some new muscles were being worked. This morning, I hurt in almost the exact same way I used to hurt when I first started riding. At least this time I know that this phase only lasts a few days.

The Trains of Santa Fe Trail Drive

I go over six distinct railroad crossings each way on my commute. That's twelve per day. Lenexa doesn't really know how to maintain these crossings, as most of them are rough to ride across. This is amplified by the fact that these are local spurs with a very odd angle-of-attack, leading off the siding next to the mainline and into small yards where only a few cars at a time get dropped off to local businesses across the street.

Some people believe these crossings are vestigial rails, no longer used. Two of the six crossings have derails off the siding track. They are smooth and easy to cross because asphalt is butted up directly against the rails. Every so often, though, I see something like this on one of the remaining four spurs:

Hey, look! A caboose!

Cabooses are still often used on local deliveries such as this one, frequently book-ending the train with the engine somewhere in the middle. A conductor acts as the eyes and ears for the engineer. The caboose also contains a gauge showing brake line air pressure and enables the conductor to initiate emergency braking for the entire train.

In case you wondered, the little blinking red light (FRED, or Flashing Rear End Device) at the trailing end of most freight trains is a computerized device that provides roughly the same function as a conductor in a caboose. It monitors brake pressure through to the back of the train and has a blow-off valve to allow the engineer to expedite emergency braking from both ends of the air hose.

At any rate, I really wish someone would do something about these horrible crossings. The angle of these crossings plus the general blighted condition of the roadway near them often makes it uncomfortable for everyone. Cyclists have to find (and memorize) a safe line through each crossing, and motorists have to be patient, as it's one big no-passing zone. Santa Fe Trail Drive isn't terribly wide, but motorists and cyclists get along quite well. I've only been honked at one time and it was friendly (meep meep!) The right part of the road is in great shape with ample room for the Kansas-mandated 4-foot passing law, except at these crossings. There, I just take the whole darn lane as needed, but many cyclists are far too sheepish to do that.

Lenexa keeps piling asphalt into these crossings, but the locomotives keep rolling through, crushing and distorting it. I'm pretty sure Lenexa's doing it wrong, and I don't think it's anyone else's responsibility (e.g., land owners, railroad companies, etc...)

On a side note, today was my first commute on the fixie. I went on a little 3-mile jaunt last night, making a mock trip to the grocery store using small residential roads and mostly-empty parking lots to get myself familiarized with fixed-gear riding. Once I broke myself of my coasting habit, everything else fell neatly into place. It was an enjoyable ride to work this morning, and it didn't really take me any longer to get here.

Update: dvicci just linked me to this gem on Dave Moulton's blog via Google Reader. How timely!

Teaser: Wherein Fixed-Gear Apocalypse Draws Near

Test Mule 0x02.

I thought monsoon season was over...

I shoe-horned this 32mm tire onto my rear wheel last week (Thanks, Karen!) but I had to ditch the fender on the back. It just wasn't going to fit.




It'll be nice to get a front fork that can take something wider than 28mm, too. Next thing you know, I'll be year-rounding this bike with cyclocross tires. Of course, just as soon as I got rid of my rear fender, the rain picks up again. I rigged up my mountain bike's old mudflap a different way this time. Photos coming soon. It keeps the road grime off my back, but does very little to keep the backsplash off of my calves. I do like the way the wider rear tire rides, though.

Oh bollocks!

3,100 miles. Looks like that pre-deer skid killed my tire, too.

Crazy week. Only Tuesday.

It's been a crazy week already, and it's barely Tuesday. In fact, I haven't even left home yet. That means Sunday and Monday have been real whoppers. Lots of riding.

I saw this on the side of the road yesterday after work. It's the eccentric bolt that allows a car's alignment to be adjusted by professional mechanics. The fact that it's not attached to a car means that someone's suspension is about to shuffle off this mortal coil. It'll probably take one of the car's wheels along for the ride. It will not end well.


Lots of riding in the dark these past few days, through the aromatic byways of Johnson County. Without being able to see much aside from what's illuminated directly ahead of my bike, I've noticed my sense of smell gives me some entertainment. The perfume of flower gardens, blooming trees and fresh-cut grass fills my nostrils.


The last two nights in a row, I've passed CenturyLink on my way home. I was pretty close to landing a job here, so I've had a lot of practice with what would have been my commute route. It would have been about a mile longer than my current route, with more hills.

A few rides later, feeling alright.

Most of the road rash is healing nicely, but a huge football-sized bruise manifested itself on my left thigh on Thursday. I'd call it a Mystery Bruise, but its origin is no mystery. Again, I'll spare you the photos of that mess. I'm still a bit sore, especially on my deeper scrapes, but they will go away soon... I hope.

A good friend of mine donated a helmet to the cause. It's a typical recreation helmet, but every bit as comfy as the Bell Solar I had before. Anything with a CPSC sticker is fine in my book! It has a detachable visor. I'm usually not a fan of those, but it holds my Take-A-Look mirror better than the helmet tab I was using before, so it may stick around.

I actually got back on the bike on Friday with a round-trip commute. I got about 20 miles in over the weekend, and had a nice ride to work this morning as well.

As far as the bike goes, everything looks to be in good shape. I found a few deer hairs in the steerer crown and fender when I removed the fork to examine it closely. The carbon fork appears to be un-damaged. I'm not sure I trust it, though. When carbon fails, it fails spectacularly!

So, I'm on the prowl for a caliper-compatible steel or aluminum road touring fork with front-rack eyelets. It would pretty much complete my bike as a do-all tourer/commuter. It looks like Surly's Long Haul Trucker fork would work. I wonder if those Cantilever bosses are removable...

Bike Camping: Canceled.

Okay... This has been a craptastic week for me... well, for a lot of us. Several people who originally answered "yes" or "maybe" have bailed. I'm calling it off. Sorry, folks. I may try to throw together something like this in July.

I'm not even sure I could ride to Hillsdale lake in the condition I'm in, much less enjoy my stay there and the ride back. Plus, it's looking like it was going to be only Josh and his son (on/in a flipping sweet Madsen, by the way!) with myself, even if I wasn't injured. While I'd be totally down for camping with a group of any size -- even solo -- I just don't have it in me this week.

Argh. I've had the camping bug for months.

Details

I was on my way to work, into a mild headwind. I was taking it very, very easy. Then, I got to the funner, hilly section. I tucked and coasted, picking up some good downhill speed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a deer ahead of me, leaving some taller grass and running for the road. I eased into my brakes at first, but I was on a collision course. I tried to swerve away as best I could while braking hard with the front, sitting up and back to get some more traction to the rear tire, which I kept locking up. I got slowed down before impact, but I don't know by how much. The rest happened in slow motion.

The deer's hooves were on the asphalt, and I could hear it clopping. It was leaning away from me, and slipping. It looked me in the eye. Its tongue was out, too. Not sure what's up with that. My front tire hit the deer right in the ribs. According to the motorist behind me, I knocked it over, then it righted itself and took off.

My left shoe came off, and I landed first on my right shoulder and on the right-rear part of my helmet-covered head. My bike flipped over the deer and landed on me. I rolled over and skidded a while on my left lumbar, foot, knee and left elbow. I kept rolling, coming to rest on my knees, elbows and wrists, all of which took substantial damage.

A motorist called 911 and the paramedics arrived promptly. I was assessed and taken to OP Regional for X-rays and a trauma work-up.



Deer: unharmed.
Helmet: Shattered
Bike: Stem rotated 20* on steerer, easily fixed.
Me: Shallow but wide-covered road rash on right shoulder blade and left lumbar, deep abrasions on both knees, both wrists and on my left pinkie toe, Shattered left thumbnail, and two almost-bone-depth abrasions on my left elbow. I also have a really long shallow gash that runs the entire back of my right hand. No clue where that came from.

Cyclist vs. Deer. Helmet Loses.

Ambulance ride. I feel okay. Mostly road rash, I think...

Grinder at Grinders!

Jon Grinder comes through Kansas City a few times per year when he visits his family out east. Usually, he blazes through KC and stops in one of the eastern suburbs for the night before pressing onward for the rest of the trip in the morning.

A few months ago, we'd arranged to meet up next time he came through town. That was today. He jokes that all of his pictures look the same, so here he strikes his usual pose.


I decided it would be cool to meet at Grinder's. Not only because it's Jon's last name, but because it's not too far off his route, and the food is good. If you like dive bars with art culture and good music, Grinder's is your spot. Last time I was here, I had their "insane" wings, and they were kind of weak, but tasty. They're billed as "effing HOT!" so I was a bit disappointed. This time, though, they delivered a mainline of pain!


We shot the breeze for an hour or so while my wife tried not to get too bored listening to gearhead-speak. I've been reading Jon's stuff longer than I've been posting here... almost as long as I've been bike commuting. It was cool to finally catch up with him in person!

Jon's Suzuki is great for touring. Boy, was it loaded!

Operation: Squall Line

At quittin' time, the radar looked something like this:


Operation: Squall Line was in full effect. I put the raincover on my lone pannier and hit the road, hoping -- no, knowing -- I could beat it. I darted up Renner, slogged the rolling hills of 113th street, and started northeast on Santa Fe Trail Drive with a strong sidewind and storms approaching from the west. Immediately ahead of me, a cyclist I hadn't seen before. Just pulling out of Southlake business park a few blocks to the north, I saw Jim's retina-searing jacket.

It didn't take me long to blow past both of them. Not that I was being a dick about it. I greeted them both upon passing. I don't usually ride hard, but this was personal. This was a race. Me against the dark, growling beast. Keep in mind that my skinny tires, tall gears, and drop bars gave me an advantage. In reality, I wasn't going that fast. This is me we're talking about.

About 2 minutes after I took this, the downpour started.


Random Tunage:
The Chemical Brothers - Star Guitar
Underworld - Born Slippy (Original)

Muggy commute

Humidity defined:

As I wheeled my Trek 1200 out the front door of my apartment, I got hit with air that was at first blush cooler than the air inside, but gooey with moisture. I carried my bike down the stairs, straddled it, and glanced down at the clock on my cyclometer, already beginning to fog up. I looked around: drops of dew were glistening in the trees and creeping down the sides of parked cars. The recently-sealed pavement was sweating, with tracks of recently-departed vehicles laid all over the parking lot. As I pedaled through the still morning air, dew was forming on the tips of the hairs on my forearms and creating a frosty-looking haze on the smooth, painted surfaces of my bike.

Welcome to early summer in the Midwest.

Lunch with Jim

I cornered Jim a few years ago when I saw him on Pflumm at Santa Fe Trail Drive. I see him around every once in a while, but never really caught up with him. My new job has me working pretty close to him, so we finally got around to meeting for lunch at Chipotle. Jim has a commute that is even closer than mine, and he is a serious year-round rider. It was nice to finally catch up with Jim. I found out he knows a lot of the same people I ride with. While eating, I saw at least 3 roadies come and go. Unsurprisingly, they were all wearing "Team Garmin" kits.

Weekend

No bikey stuff this weekend, aside from some errands.

I'm slowly but surely getting back into nerdy things outside of work again. A friend of mine brought a pair of these systems to CCCKC last week. AT&T marketed a few different computers in the 1980s. This particular model, the 3B1/7300, was designed and manufactured by Convergent Technologies in 1985. It runs genuine AT&T System Five (SysV) UNIX, one of the operating systems I cut my teeth on as a kid. I haven't used it in well over a decade, but I love its descendands (Solaris, AIX, Linux and other "unix" variants) and still use them on a daily basis.


Today: Fishing.


And not 10 minutes after casting, I got my first catch of the season, a nice-looking if somewhat young channel catfish.


I caught more, too. In fact, enough to feed my wife and I, my sister-in-law and her two daughters. My niece was using the compact fishing rig I built almost exactly a year ago. It would have been nice to see how it held up against the fish I caught today. I was using a hand-me-down rod and spinning reel that my dad gave me ages ago.

I usually catch-and-release, or simply end up feeding the fish as they steal bait from me. My wife has this awesome recipe for fried catfish, though. I much prefer bass, trout, or, if I can catch it in significant quantity, panfish such as bluegill. I'm not a huge fan of catfish, but this stuff was fresh... and goooooood!

Everyone!

This morning, I ran across almost every cyclist I've seen to date on my new route, except for Terry. Brian was rolling out of my apartment complex at the same time as me. Coming up to 95th St, The Silent Roadie and I were stopped next to one another. I didn't have time to catch his name, but we talked for a second. He rides from 75th and Metcalf down to 151st St. That's a decent ride. Then, I got passed by someone I haven't seen before, commuting on a triathlon bike and apparently trying to catch up with the roadie. We exchanged "good mornings" and little else. Finally, I saw the daily northbound guy south of 95th.

And how could I blame them? It was a beautiful morning for a ride!

I got tired of staring at the eight un-labeled and functionless buttons on my office phone. Over lunch, I added some new labels to them. Tip of the hat to my friend Ben, who kind of inspired me to do this by sending me a link to a photo where someone had done something similar. I wish I could claim it was original. It is, however, fun to look at.

Sunrise from an early commute