Eagle - light at the end of the bike path?

There's a very encouraging story on the Idaho Statesman website... the Greenbelt on the south side of the river might be "officially" complete all the way to Eagle Road, before the weather turns cold.

"City officials have directed its parks director to get a 1-mile stretch of Greenbelt near the Laguna Pointe subdivision cleared of weeds and other obstructions so that it can be safely used by walkers and bicyclists. Work will begin Monday, and it's expected to be finished by the end of September."

Great news! And my hat is off to the city officials in Eagle. It was obvious that the Laguna Pointe folks were using the Riverside Village playbook, hoping to win the battle through attrition and discouragement. But apparently the town fathers recognize that they answer to all the citizens/voters, not just a few well-heeled elitists who yap the loudest.

Previous commentary (in chronological order):
May 26, 2012
Feb 25, 2013
Mar 20, 2013
Apr 24, 2013

Suicide Knob

I sing in the choir at church. (Well - I emit noise, anyway. It's not a choir that requires an audition, and my daughter is the director, so I'm in!)

And last Sunday, our excellent accompanist commented on the long stretch between the bass note and the tenor note... it was well over an octave, and she told us, "You tenors, I might have to sacrifice your note if I can't play both." A notorious smart-alek, Mark, piped up, "Can't you play one of the notes with your nose??"

I've been thinking about that.

Some of you old-timers might remember "suicide knobs" from the good old days. Back before power steering and automatic transmissions were widespread, a popular after-market accessory was a small rotating knob, which you could bolt to your car's steering wheel. It allowed easier one-handed steering, leaving the other hand free for alternate duties. They were sometimes called a "necker knob," or a "Brodie knob" after an actor/daredevil from yesteryear.

According to the Wikipedia, they were particularly popular among hot rodders on the West Coast, because they facilitated doing stunts, spinouts, etc.

My dad had one on his car - I remember it well, because it was beautiful two-tone white and translucent emerald green. And back in those days, kids could sit in the front seat.

They're still available - just do a web search for "suicide knob."

And to my way of thinking, they'd be more useful now than ever!

In fact - thinking back on choir practice, I'd suggest a modified design, with a cup shape and a soft, padded surface - perhaps Naugahyde, or fine Corinthian leather. My design would be particularly handy for folks with a manual transmission, or with a bench seat and your honey sitting close.

You could mount it at the twelve-o'clock position on your steering wheel.

Then, when you have your cell phone in your left hand, your coffee cradled between your knees (thus making it hard to steer with your legs), and need to operate the gearshift with your right hand (or have it wrapped around your babe), or you need both hands for your texting responsibilities, you could lean forward, inserting your nose in the suicide knob, and engage in rhinosteerage.

Why hasn't somebody thought of this before?!! It should be standard equipment on any car with a manual transmission, in these attention-deficit times. Frequently I see people who just have to trust the direction of their vehicle to luck, because they are out of appendages.

Cyclist vs. Actress

In a horrifying incident that is sure to set back relations between cyclists and the general public, a paparazzo-punk on a bike knocked actress Nicole Kidman off her feet, as she left a NYC fashion show.

Story HERE.

Apparently both an ambulance and fire truck were dispatched, just in case, but the lovely Ms. Kidman seems no worse for the wear, other than the mental anguish. The cops say they're going to write the punk up for riding on the sidewalk, but strangely there's not a specific "Assault on a Celebrity" statute.

Lucky for the rider that he ran into the actress, rather than that sturdy-looking bodyguard dude. If it had happened in a back alley rather than a busy street with lots of witnesses, he might have ended up wearing that bicycle home wrapped around his neck, or eating it.

"Driving in America has stalled."

According to this article by AP writer Joan Lowy, total [motor] vehicle use peaked in America in August, 2007. It dropped off sharply, no doubt due to the recession and the ever-escalating cost of fuel. It has rebounded somewhat since, but has now leveled off.

Why?

The experts cite several contributors:
- The percentage of young people who get driver's licenses has dropped off, suggesting that driving isn't as important as it has been in the past
- Ongoing uncertainty about the economy
- Gas prices
- Traffic, lack of parking spaces, etc., has soured people. "Getting into a car no longer correlates with fun."
- Cars are no longer a "fetish of masculinity" for many in our society
- Changing lifestyles - more shopping online, public transit is more popular in many areas, as are walking and cycling
- The population is aging, and the huge "baby boom bubble" drives less as they retire, etc.
- Unemployment - Young people in particular are having a hard time getting and holding a job that will support a car

Historic flat tire

I got a flat today! D'oh! It was a goathead (of course!), and in a twist of cruel irony, I'm pretty sure I "acquired" it right behind the ACHD equipment yard. I've been noticing a prolific growth of goatheads along there (like pretty much every place right now), and today it looked as though somebody had been trying to deal with them, and in the process a few got scattered about on the bike path.

It's "historic," because it's only my second flat tire of the calendar year. And for years and years, I averaged 2 or 3 such flats a month, and have dealt with three in a day (!) a couple times. But since I discovered my new favorite tire, Vittoria Randonneurs, dealing with flats is pretty much a thing of the past.

Amazingly, there are a couple of "down sides" to not getting flats very often.

I pulled up to do repairs. And apparently, fixing flats is kinda like... uh... um... riding a bike! Once you learn, you never forget.

I quickly had the tube removed and the offending goathead removed, and the hole identified and the rubber "roughed up" with sandpaper. Then I went to apply some glue. From a never-opened tube. D'oh! The glue was dried up! I guess that's what happens after a couple years, even if you don't use any.

Not to worry! I pulled out my spare inner tube, which I also always carry. Put the compromised one around my neck and the spare inside the tire, and pumped it up, and started on my way. A mile or so up the road, I noticed it was getting low.

Fer cryin' out loud!

I took my place at the side of the path, and once again practiced my tube change-out skills. And I discovered - if a tube goes for many, many miles, folded up in an underseat bag... it tends to wear a hole wherever it's rubbing against something. And that was the case today.

Fortunately, I also had a couple peel-and-stick "emergency patches," and applied one, and limped on in to my destination. I'll fix the leaking spare tube, and maybe wrap it in an old sock or something to prevent it from getting rubbed raw. And I'll try to replenish my patching supplies.

On the bright side, I got a glimpse of the good side of humanity. Three or four people were passing by, and asked if I had everything under control. It's nice to witness compassion and empathy up close from time to time.

Perfectly good rides - SPOILED!

Yesterday at the end of my 8 hours of toil, I stood up and peeked out of my cube. The sky was dark! What the?!!

I headed for the bike locker; the sky was ominous, and I could see rain coming down in the not-too-distant distance. The wind was gusty. Oh well - I'd already been wet twice since morning. (Both times in the shower.) I forged ahead. Made it maybe 1/2 mile before the rain started falling.

I took refuge under a bridge for a couple minutes and called home with the cell phone. No answer; I left a message - "PLEASE put the extenders on our rain gutter downspouts!" (Sometimes when it rains hard, we'll get a little water in the basement if we don't move the roof-water a little farther out on the lawn. Turns out nobody answered because everybody in the household was out on the front porch, watching the thunderstorm.)

The rain let up a bit, and I rode on. The respite was short lived - as I rode over that same bridge, it was pouring rain and the side wind was pushing me. At least it was still warm. And my "fanny pack" is fairly water-resistant, to protect the contents.

At the end of my 20-minute bike ride, I was as wet as I'd been in the shower, and my clothes and shoes were equally wet. Oh, well - that's the occasional price to be paid when you ride a bike every day. I put the downspout extenders in place, and took refuge inside. By 45 minutes, the storm had blown through and the sun came out again. (My shoes were still squishy-wet this morning. I'm wearing another pair.)

--

This morning the outlook was much better. We had overnight rain, and the pavement was damp but not wet.

I headed for work, taking a route that is slightly longer but oh so much more pleasant, through Ann Morrison Park.

As I rode in one direction, I saw a couple approaching from the other direction. Nothing unusual there; happens all the time. But just as I got to them, suddenly the underbrush on the side parted, and their big dog came bounding out, right into my path! I braked hard and rode off the path; fortunately I didn't go down. (I'm too old to be slamming into the hard ground - that's a pastime for the young bucks.) As I rode away, I suggested they should put their dog on a leash.

The fella replied with that ever-persuasive "F*** you!!"

What the?! Hey, jackass - I'm not the problem - you are the problem.

I did a U-turn and rode to them and said, "There's a leash law - you are breaking the law, and if your dog causes me to crash, there will be a problem."

The woman pushed against me and said, "Please just go! My husband is a vet, and has P.T.S.D." And indeed he was making his buggy-eyed World Wrestling scary-face and acting as though he wanted a piece of me. (Oh, brother!)

The woman did tell him to put their dog on the leash. And I just went.

So much for the ever-pleasant ride through the park. I felt like telling the woman, "If you can't take your dog and your psycho husband out in public without endangering other citizens, maybe you better keep 'em home." I'd much rather deal with bad weather than big unpredictable animals - both canine and human.

One more Tour de Fat follow-up

According to the Boise Weekly, 6000 (!) people participated in the morning bike parade. That's a LOT of people and bikes! Perhaps the local mainstream media should do a better job of reporting on an event with so much local participation. Also, as Clancy commented, the most long-term fallout from the event was $55,000 collected for three local nonprofit bicycle organizations.

Well done, Fat Turistas!!
(-;

A couple other happy memories of the parade that I failed to mention earlier:

We're all familiar with the kind-hearted spectators who hold out cups of water for the contestants in big-time bicycle races, marathons, etc., right?

Well, early on, along the Tour de Fat course, a heart-of-gold lady had a little table set up, and as people rode by she was offering Ice Cream Cones!! Seriously! Holding a cone out at arm's length and inquiring, "Ice cream? Ice cream?" I asked Mackie if we should get some ice cream - she declined, being afraid that she might crash her bike if she was riding and licking her cone at the same time.

If I had it to do over, I would've told her to pull over. We could've leisurely eaten an ice cream cone, and then pulled back into the mob, a little farther back.

(Somehow it seemed SO APPROPRIATE that the "Tour de Fat" parade riders would get the opportunity for Ice Cream Relief!)

There were some security personnel on hand for the event, including some Boise motorcycle cops. (Although I've never seen a more content, well-behaved crowd of people, at least during the parade event!) In their motorcycle-cop fashion, some of them would block the side streets as the parade started through, and then race on ahead to the next intersection. Frankly, it made me a little nervous; a big, loose pack of bicycle riders is a little more free-flowing than a float rolling slowly down the middle of the road, or even a band marching to J. P. Sousa, in nice, straight lines.

Well, one of the cops - I happen to know the guy - was riding his big BMW motorcycle up the sidewalk, to get to the next intersection. A parader on a bike was on the sidewalk ahead of him. Certainly not trying to disrupt in any way... he just happened to be on the sidewalk. When he heard the motorcycle engine revving behind him, he cleared the way, and the cop zoomed on ahead... into an area of the sidewalk that was under repair. There were barriers, places where the sidewalk was buckled or missing altogether. By then, he was moving fast and all he could do was try to "ride it out." To everyone's horror/delight (can you feel both at the same time?!), he actually "caught some air" and did the motocross thing for a few feet, then came down with a crash! But he's obviously a skilled rider - he controlled everything and zoomed on up the sidewalk... leaving his big black Cop Flashlight twirling on the ground in his wake.

Paraders hollered, "Look! He lost his weapon!!" Somebody collected it - I got the impression they were riding ahead, hoping to catch up. I never saw how it ended, but it added to the excitement for everybody in the immediate area.