My recently stolen Cannondale T2000 was like an old friend. I can't absolutely say it was my all-time favorite bike, but it was/is in the running for that title.
From the first day I rode it - in November 2001 - until the day it was stolen - September 27, 2009 - I accumulated 44,482 miles on it. I can confidently say that's more miles than most bikes ever roll.
After so much faithful service, it deserved to eventually be "put out to pasture," like the bikes that preceded it. I've got two road bikes hanging - in various stages of incompleteness - in the garage. I really should press one of 'em back into service.
Tireless advocate for the most efficient form of
human transportation ever devised - bicycles!
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
12 years of car-free commuting
When September finishes up each year, it marks one more year that I've not driven a car - even once - to and from work. The last day I drove a car was sometime in September 1997.
Unless outside forces intervene, that will always be the last day that this worker drove to work.
Some clarifications:
- Since 1986 I've been essentially car-free commuting. But I would drive ever so occasionally when my "excuse" seemed especially strong. For example, in 1997 leading up to September, I drove a car 3 times.
- I have also ever-so-occasionally driven a motorcycle to work. But I was 100% bike-commuting from October 2005 until August 2009. (In August, the doctor ordered me off the bike for two days.)
- I ride the bus every now and then. Once this year - in January.
- I don't want to imply that I live a totally car-free life. My bride drives a minivan and I go places with my family, who mostly cannot be persuaded onto bikes. Also I borrow the minivan when I'm hauling a load that won't fit in the BOB trailer. It would be truly challenging to totally give up automobile transportation altogether. But my bike is my chosen mode unless I think long and hard, and determine that the car or motorcycle is the most practical alternative.
Unless outside forces intervene, that will always be the last day that this worker drove to work.
Some clarifications:
- Since 1986 I've been essentially car-free commuting. But I would drive ever so occasionally when my "excuse" seemed especially strong. For example, in 1997 leading up to September, I drove a car 3 times.
- I have also ever-so-occasionally driven a motorcycle to work. But I was 100% bike-commuting from October 2005 until August 2009. (In August, the doctor ordered me off the bike for two days.)
- I ride the bus every now and then. Once this year - in January.
- I don't want to imply that I live a totally car-free life. My bride drives a minivan and I go places with my family, who mostly cannot be persuaded onto bikes. Also I borrow the minivan when I'm hauling a load that won't fit in the BOB trailer. It would be truly challenging to totally give up automobile transportation altogether. But my bike is my chosen mode unless I think long and hard, and determine that the car or motorcycle is the most practical alternative.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Bike to school - break the law!
Saratoga Springs is in upstate New York, a few miles north of Albany. Last spring, according to this story, it was decided that bicycling or walking to (elementary and middle) school would no longer be permitted in Saratoga Springs.
A few students (with the support of their civilly-disobedient parents) have defied the rules by continuing to ride their bikes and walk. REBELS!
Golly! Is it any wonder that this country has an obesity epidemic, and that kids are fatter every generation?
(I'd like to see the specific statute, that declares citizens can't use a public, taxpayer-funded road to get to selected destinations. I'm guessing that if someone were arrested, it would be pretty easy to get it thrown out.)
A few students (with the support of their civilly-disobedient parents) have defied the rules by continuing to ride their bikes and walk. REBELS!
Golly! Is it any wonder that this country has an obesity epidemic, and that kids are fatter every generation?
(I'd like to see the specific statute, that declares citizens can't use a public, taxpayer-funded road to get to selected destinations. I'm guessing that if someone were arrested, it would be pretty easy to get it thrown out.)
Monday, September 28, 2009
Teddy Roosevelt and "The Strenuous Life"
The single reason I'm looking forward to the passing years is... at age 62, an American citizen can get a "Golden Age Passport" for free access to our National Parks, Monuments, etc. I LOVE the great and magnificent outdoor places! (Now if only I'm still healthy enough to be ambulatory... and if gas will stay below $10 per gallon... but I digress.)
And so I've been looking forward to watching Ken Burns' "The National Parks - America's Best Idea" on PBS.
Also, since I was a young kid, I've been a Teddy Roosevelt fan. For various reasons. Criminy! The dude is on Mount Rushmore! Isn't that enough??!?
In addition, however, we share the same birthday. (I'm sure that's what first got my attention as a kid.)
Roosevelt was hugely instrumental in the early history of preserving our wild places as national parks and monuments.
He was sickly as a child growing up in the Big City. What originally brought him out west, as documented in "The National Parks," was his quest for "the strenuous life," as he called it. He got off a train in the badlands of North Dakota, hoping that huffing and puffing that clear western air, hunting buffalo and climbing mountains would improve his health. And apparently it did; he seemed to get more robust as he got older.
He once said, "If we stand idly by, if we seek merely swollen, slothful ease and ignoble peace, if we shrink from the hard contests where men must win at hazard of their lives and at the risk of all they hold dear, then the bolder and stronger peoples will pass us by, and will win for themselves the domination of the world."
Don't we see a tendency in society-at-large to "seek swollen, slothful ease," and to "shrink from the hard contests"?
Most of us are bound by necessity to jobs and such, which prevent us from setting out for a life of exploring and buffalo hunting. Me included. (Although I spend 50 weeks every year, looking forward to those couple weeks when I can live the Teddy Roosevelt Lifestyle. NOT buffalo hunting!) But how grateful I am for bike transportation! For a few glorious moments every single day, no matter what else happens, I can get a reminder that there are finer things in life than ease and relaxation.
And so I've been looking forward to watching Ken Burns' "The National Parks - America's Best Idea" on PBS.
Also, since I was a young kid, I've been a Teddy Roosevelt fan. For various reasons. Criminy! The dude is on Mount Rushmore! Isn't that enough??!?
In addition, however, we share the same birthday. (I'm sure that's what first got my attention as a kid.)Roosevelt was hugely instrumental in the early history of preserving our wild places as national parks and monuments.
He was sickly as a child growing up in the Big City. What originally brought him out west, as documented in "The National Parks," was his quest for "the strenuous life," as he called it. He got off a train in the badlands of North Dakota, hoping that huffing and puffing that clear western air, hunting buffalo and climbing mountains would improve his health. And apparently it did; he seemed to get more robust as he got older.
He once said, "If we stand idly by, if we seek merely swollen, slothful ease and ignoble peace, if we shrink from the hard contests where men must win at hazard of their lives and at the risk of all they hold dear, then the bolder and stronger peoples will pass us by, and will win for themselves the domination of the world."
Don't we see a tendency in society-at-large to "seek swollen, slothful ease," and to "shrink from the hard contests"?
Most of us are bound by necessity to jobs and such, which prevent us from setting out for a life of exploring and buffalo hunting. Me included. (Although I spend 50 weeks every year, looking forward to those couple weeks when I can live the Teddy Roosevelt Lifestyle. NOT buffalo hunting!) But how grateful I am for bike transportation! For a few glorious moments every single day, no matter what else happens, I can get a reminder that there are finer things in life than ease and relaxation.
The Beater rolls again!
Way back in the 80s, when I decided to commit to bikes-as-transportation, I went into the bike store expecting to buy a road bike. I was intrigued by the notion of "mountain bikes," but they were still a relatively new thing, and nobody knew if they would catch on.
They didn't have the (road) bike I wanted in the size I wanted, and my eyes fell on a Peugeot Canyon Express. The top-of-the-line Peugeot mountain bike. I took the plunge.
I can still remember taking 5-mile rides on it, around the neighborhood. Then getting ambitious and going 10, then 15. (Of course, I was riding to and from the office, but that was only 2.5 miles or so.) I can remember my first 25-mile ride, on a Saturday morning. Coming in on Hill Road I passed a couple guys on road bikes. They mocked me... but then disappeared in my rearview. (I don't want to suggest they were making an effort to catch up.) It was my primary transportation for a couple years, until I saw a shiny red Bridgestone road bike hanging in the bike store, in just my size... and at end-of-season sale price. (Of course, by then, mountain bikes were jammed into the bike shops, and road bikes were something of a rarity.)
That's all ancient history.
The "Canyon Express" has been collecting dust in a lean-to shed for 18 months or so. This morning it saw the light of day. I dusted off the thickest layer of grime and cobwebs. I squirted air into the tires and put WD-40 on the rusty chain. Just enough to get 'er rolling. Brakes? Check. Let's roll.
Amazingly, the old Vetta bike computer came to life and is keeping track of my miles.
They didn't have the (road) bike I wanted in the size I wanted, and my eyes fell on a Peugeot Canyon Express. The top-of-the-line Peugeot mountain bike. I took the plunge.
I can still remember taking 5-mile rides on it, around the neighborhood. Then getting ambitious and going 10, then 15. (Of course, I was riding to and from the office, but that was only 2.5 miles or so.) I can remember my first 25-mile ride, on a Saturday morning. Coming in on Hill Road I passed a couple guys on road bikes. They mocked me... but then disappeared in my rearview. (I don't want to suggest they were making an effort to catch up.) It was my primary transportation for a couple years, until I saw a shiny red Bridgestone road bike hanging in the bike store, in just my size... and at end-of-season sale price. (Of course, by then, mountain bikes were jammed into the bike shops, and road bikes were something of a rarity.)
That's all ancient history.
The "Canyon Express" has been collecting dust in a lean-to shed for 18 months or so. This morning it saw the light of day. I dusted off the thickest layer of grime and cobwebs. I squirted air into the tires and put WD-40 on the rusty chain. Just enough to get 'er rolling. Brakes? Check. Let's roll.
Amazingly, the old Vetta bike computer came to life and is keeping track of my miles.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
STOLEN BIKE!
This is too weird. My bike was stolen this morning!
I rode over to the church for meetings, like I've done week after week, year after year. I parked it in a hallway, just like always. (Unlocked... but inside the building!) When I got out of the first meeting, at 10:15am or so, there sat my helmet, on the floor right where I had left it next to my bike. But the bike was gone.
I assumed some rascal had moved it as a "practical joke." (Some joke! If that had been the case, I would definitely have explained that I didn't see the humor.) So I looked in the cloakroom, out back, in a few nearby classrooms. No sign.
I went outside, where a couple friends park their bikes (also unlocked... I guess we incorrectly assumed that God would watch over and protect our bikes). There was an unfamiliar fellow with Brent's mountain bike. I asked him what he was doing with it; he said, "Oh, I was just looking at it. I like bikes." I told him my bike was missing; he said, "Why would I steal a bike? I go to church here." I followed 20 or 30 feet behind as he walked around the corner, hopped in a dark red 4-door midsize sedan without a plate on the back, and went zooming away. I'm pretty sure I spoke with my thief. (I never saw my bike... but that's not a coincidence, is it?)
I've filed a police report; not optimistic, but maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised.
Thief: 35-45 years old, white, short brown hair (or "salt and pepper"), receding hairline. He was probably 5'10", 180lbs. He was dressed in a light brown long-sleeve shirt, buttoned all the way up. Dark brown slacks. (Looked to be "posing" as somebody going to church, I figure, so as to not arouse undue suspicion.) I'd love to see him again, in a police lineup.
The car: Dark read 4-door midsize sedan. I can't be sure, but I'd guess early 2000s General Motors. No license plate.
The location: 3200 Cassia Street, in Boise. (Across from South Jr. High.) Car was parked on Michael Street, just around the corner from Cassia.
My bike: 2000 Cannondale T2000. 58.4cm (I believe). Drop bars with yellow and black "leopard spot" tape, bar-end shifters. Planet bike fenders. (I'm pretty confident if you lined up every bike on the planet, I could pick mine out of the bunch, based just on appearance. I can tell you the make/model of pretty much every component on the bike.) Serial number 1C50197S2267T5U23. (Or that's how I'm guessing it reads... photo of the s/n below.) The rear tire has a slow leak; I pumped it up before leaving this morning, and figured I'd fix it this afternoon.
Could I be Christlike and forgive the guy? Probably. But I'd still like to have my bike back, and to see the criminal justice system run its course. And I'd like the guy to have "Bike Thief" tattooed on his forehead in great big letters... know what I mean?
I rode over to the church for meetings, like I've done week after week, year after year. I parked it in a hallway, just like always. (Unlocked... but inside the building!) When I got out of the first meeting, at 10:15am or so, there sat my helmet, on the floor right where I had left it next to my bike. But the bike was gone.
I assumed some rascal had moved it as a "practical joke." (Some joke! If that had been the case, I would definitely have explained that I didn't see the humor.) So I looked in the cloakroom, out back, in a few nearby classrooms. No sign.
I went outside, where a couple friends park their bikes (also unlocked... I guess we incorrectly assumed that God would watch over and protect our bikes). There was an unfamiliar fellow with Brent's mountain bike. I asked him what he was doing with it; he said, "Oh, I was just looking at it. I like bikes." I told him my bike was missing; he said, "Why would I steal a bike? I go to church here." I followed 20 or 30 feet behind as he walked around the corner, hopped in a dark red 4-door midsize sedan without a plate on the back, and went zooming away. I'm pretty sure I spoke with my thief. (I never saw my bike... but that's not a coincidence, is it?)
I've filed a police report; not optimistic, but maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised.
Thief: 35-45 years old, white, short brown hair (or "salt and pepper"), receding hairline. He was probably 5'10", 180lbs. He was dressed in a light brown long-sleeve shirt, buttoned all the way up. Dark brown slacks. (Looked to be "posing" as somebody going to church, I figure, so as to not arouse undue suspicion.) I'd love to see him again, in a police lineup.
The car: Dark read 4-door midsize sedan. I can't be sure, but I'd guess early 2000s General Motors. No license plate.
The location: 3200 Cassia Street, in Boise. (Across from South Jr. High.) Car was parked on Michael Street, just around the corner from Cassia.
My bike: 2000 Cannondale T2000. 58.4cm (I believe). Drop bars with yellow and black "leopard spot" tape, bar-end shifters. Planet bike fenders. (I'm pretty confident if you lined up every bike on the planet, I could pick mine out of the bunch, based just on appearance. I can tell you the make/model of pretty much every component on the bike.) Serial number 1C50197S2267T5U23. (Or that's how I'm guessing it reads... photo of the s/n below.) The rear tire has a slow leak; I pumped it up before leaving this morning, and figured I'd fix it this afternoon.
Could I be Christlike and forgive the guy? Probably. But I'd still like to have my bike back, and to see the criminal justice system run its course. And I'd like the guy to have "Bike Thief" tattooed on his forehead in great big letters... know what I mean?
Friday, September 25, 2009
Road Rage directed at cyclists
Bill Schneider writes some good stuff about cycling on the New West website.
His current column is titled, Road Rage for Cyclists Embarrassing, Dangerous, Un-American.
Bill: "The vast majority of motorists courteously and safely share roadways with cyclists, but a very small minority not only aren’t courteous, but for some unexplainable reason fill up with rage whenever they see cyclists on the road ahead. Anybody who regularly rides bicycles on paved roadways knows about this minority. They not only think cyclists have no right to use public roadways but also show their anger by shouting obscenities and giving out the universal salute and even do all sorts of outright dangerous things like coming up behind cyclists blaring their horns, purposely passing inches from handlebars at high speed, or throwing beer cans and other objects, which become lethal missiles for somebody on a bicycle."
A kindred spirit! (Thankfully, the throwing-of-stuff has been so rare for me, that I can count 'em on one hand.)
His current column is titled, Road Rage for Cyclists Embarrassing, Dangerous, Un-American.
Bill: "The vast majority of motorists courteously and safely share roadways with cyclists, but a very small minority not only aren’t courteous, but for some unexplainable reason fill up with rage whenever they see cyclists on the road ahead. Anybody who regularly rides bicycles on paved roadways knows about this minority. They not only think cyclists have no right to use public roadways but also show their anger by shouting obscenities and giving out the universal salute and even do all sorts of outright dangerous things like coming up behind cyclists blaring their horns, purposely passing inches from handlebars at high speed, or throwing beer cans and other objects, which become lethal missiles for somebody on a bicycle."
A kindred spirit! (Thankfully, the throwing-of-stuff has been so rare for me, that I can count 'em on one hand.)
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