http://www.thehelmetlock.com/
I've had a Helmet Lock for about two weeks now. I like it. I've used it a few times and it's convenient and effective. As advertised, it fits easily around a u-lock when not in use.
If you're looking around for a way to conveniently stow your helmet when you lock up your bike, this is a good option.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
CalTrain: Picking Your Seat
The dilemma: which seat to take?
In the mornings I rarely have the option. Getting on at Millbrae, it's stand or stand. Sometimes you can lean on the bike rack railing, if that works for you (it's not very comfortable). But on the way home?
I take an express (unless I'm stuck at work past 7). It's a quick way home (15 minutes for me), but not surprisingly, it's also a popular way home. Nonetheless, unlike my train into work, it isn't often so crowded that I can't get a seat (and when it is, some nice lady is ineffectually yelling at all the non-cyclists to get off her car). So which seat to take? Upstairs are the rows of single seats. Nice, but not a lot of legroom. For whatever reason, I like to be on the sunny/west-facing side. Not sure why, but I do.
The cream of the upstairs, however, is the first seat because it has another seat opposite it where you can stash your stuff and which leaves you with extra legroom. Unless the train is really crowded and someone comes up and takes that seat. Then neither of you have any legroom and you uncomfortably struggle not brush each other's legs or make eye contact. Not a pleasant situation. But not as bad as what happens down below, in the hold.
Downstairs the seats lure you in with the promise of American personal space: an empty seat beside you and across from you. Leg room, elbow room, privacy. Lovely. It's like that lucky flight in coach where you have a row all to yourself. And like that lucky flight, it's rare.
There's always the one guy across from you. Even if you have all your personal space, there's no guarantee he's not going to chatter at you about whatever's on his mind ("excuse me, can't you see I'm reading this book?" you think to yourself as you try to manage a polite smile). Sure, that guy might be a really nice fella, but more likely he's a really annoying fella. I take strong odds in that direction (which is why I sit upstairs).
Even if that guy isn't annoying, chances are high those empty seats next to and across from you won't stay that way. Once again, try to find space for everyone's legs while avoiding awkward brushes against "that guy's" shaved legs and at all costs avoid eye contact. I'd rather stand. Nowadays I won't even take the chance on the seats in the dungeon; I'll just stand for 15 minutes and remain grateful that Millbrae isn't far away.
If I have the choice -- and normally I do -- I go upstairs. Even if that means limited leg room. I'll just read my book in peace.
In the mornings I rarely have the option. Getting on at Millbrae, it's stand or stand. Sometimes you can lean on the bike rack railing, if that works for you (it's not very comfortable). But on the way home?
I take an express (unless I'm stuck at work past 7). It's a quick way home (15 minutes for me), but not surprisingly, it's also a popular way home. Nonetheless, unlike my train into work, it isn't often so crowded that I can't get a seat (and when it is, some nice lady is ineffectually yelling at all the non-cyclists to get off her car). So which seat to take? Upstairs are the rows of single seats. Nice, but not a lot of legroom. For whatever reason, I like to be on the sunny/west-facing side. Not sure why, but I do.
The cream of the upstairs, however, is the first seat because it has another seat opposite it where you can stash your stuff and which leaves you with extra legroom. Unless the train is really crowded and someone comes up and takes that seat. Then neither of you have any legroom and you uncomfortably struggle not brush each other's legs or make eye contact. Not a pleasant situation. But not as bad as what happens down below, in the hold.
Downstairs the seats lure you in with the promise of American personal space: an empty seat beside you and across from you. Leg room, elbow room, privacy. Lovely. It's like that lucky flight in coach where you have a row all to yourself. And like that lucky flight, it's rare.
There's always the one guy across from you. Even if you have all your personal space, there's no guarantee he's not going to chatter at you about whatever's on his mind ("excuse me, can't you see I'm reading this book?" you think to yourself as you try to manage a polite smile). Sure, that guy might be a really nice fella, but more likely he's a really annoying fella. I take strong odds in that direction (which is why I sit upstairs).
Even if that guy isn't annoying, chances are high those empty seats next to and across from you won't stay that way. Once again, try to find space for everyone's legs while avoiding awkward brushes against "that guy's" shaved legs and at all costs avoid eye contact. I'd rather stand. Nowadays I won't even take the chance on the seats in the dungeon; I'll just stand for 15 minutes and remain grateful that Millbrae isn't far away.
If I have the choice -- and normally I do -- I go upstairs. Even if that means limited leg room. I'll just read my book in peace.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Cyclists are a Pain in the Neck
A friend sent me a list of random thoughts some comedian or another put together. Among them was this:
You know, I basically agree. In my commute I see more cyclists do stupid things on the road than anyone else. And it's not just doing things wrong -- we all do that -- it's flagrant disregard for the rules of the road and even the cyclists' own safety.
I can understand blowing the occasional stop sign, but just Wednesday I saw a guy blow a light and pick his way through heavy traffic like he was playing Frogger. Seriously, that guy is a problem. Remember my discussion about the lack of cross traffic along the Embarcadero? Also this week I was crossing the Embarcadero and was nearly run down by a cyclist who didn't think the red light applied to him. This morning I saw a woman riding on the sidewalk (also discussed in that link) blowing right throw a parking lot entrance -- against a light -- while cars (with the light) were trying to enter it.
Last week I saw a guy blow a stop sign without any regard for the car that was already in the intersection (legally) and then got upset at the car for not giving him more room. It was ridiculous. I mean I get things wrong every now and again (just the other day I misread the pattern on a light and took off before it was my turn), but when I do I don't blame the drivers who aren't doing anything wrong for my mistake.
All this results in drivers not trusting us. Today I pull up to a stop sign, clearly the last one there, and wait for the car to my right to drive through. He refuses to do so and just kept waiting for me to go, sure that I had no regard for the stop sign. He didn't even waive me on, he just sat there and stared. Eventually I got the hint and went, but neither he nor I was happy with the situation: I was frustrated waiting for him, and he for me.
We, the cyclists of the world, could do ourselves a big favor by being just a little more respectful of the rules. In the mean time, I too distrust my fellow riders more than the drivers in cars around me (who also leave plenty to be desired).
As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.
You know, I basically agree. In my commute I see more cyclists do stupid things on the road than anyone else. And it's not just doing things wrong -- we all do that -- it's flagrant disregard for the rules of the road and even the cyclists' own safety.
I can understand blowing the occasional stop sign, but just Wednesday I saw a guy blow a light and pick his way through heavy traffic like he was playing Frogger. Seriously, that guy is a problem. Remember my discussion about the lack of cross traffic along the Embarcadero? Also this week I was crossing the Embarcadero and was nearly run down by a cyclist who didn't think the red light applied to him. This morning I saw a woman riding on the sidewalk (also discussed in that link) blowing right throw a parking lot entrance -- against a light -- while cars (with the light) were trying to enter it.
Last week I saw a guy blow a stop sign without any regard for the car that was already in the intersection (legally) and then got upset at the car for not giving him more room. It was ridiculous. I mean I get things wrong every now and again (just the other day I misread the pattern on a light and took off before it was my turn), but when I do I don't blame the drivers who aren't doing anything wrong for my mistake.
All this results in drivers not trusting us. Today I pull up to a stop sign, clearly the last one there, and wait for the car to my right to drive through. He refuses to do so and just kept waiting for me to go, sure that I had no regard for the stop sign. He didn't even waive me on, he just sat there and stared. Eventually I got the hint and went, but neither he nor I was happy with the situation: I was frustrated waiting for him, and he for me.
We, the cyclists of the world, could do ourselves a big favor by being just a little more respectful of the rules. In the mean time, I too distrust my fellow riders more than the drivers in cars around me (who also leave plenty to be desired).
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Commute Friends
You know those people you see every day? The ones you recognize and notice in their absence, but you've never said a word to them?
When I started bike commuting, riding from Bernal to the Financial District, I had two that stick out: "skinny woman," and "old military guy." Just before 8 in the morning she was always running, and he was always walking on the Embarcadero near the ball park. She wore black tights, a pony tail, and, yes, was very skinny. He wore old-style running shorts (the short kind), had short gray hair, and wasn't really power-walking in the Olympic style, but was walking hard, if that makes sense. Normally shirt off, I feel like he has the faded, greening, naval-style tatoo, but maybe I just always thought he should. I still see them every now and again, if I'm a little early and they are a little late.
There were times when they weren't there in the morning. Stretches during which old military guy would miss several days and I'd start to wonder about him and what might have happened. Then he'd be back.
There's the security guard at the parking lot I ride past at my building. We wave and greet each other most mornings. When she's not there I wonder how she's doing and what she's up to.
Now, on my ride from Burlingame, there's a guy who's always coming down Airport as I'm heading up it, around Brisbane and South City. Red helmet, blue shirt, black bike. And I know he goes at least as far as Burlingame, because I've seen him there a couple of times at the end of the day, headed north.
Then there are the people on the train. Black-haired Specialized Allez rider. No-on-8 Sticker Guy. Loud, anti-government guy. Bald, compact, serious-rider guy. Bike-activist yeller woman. Webcor-uni guy.
Now, with people you pass while riding, of course you wouldn't strike up a conversation with them, but nonetheless you have a connection with them. It's a funny thing . . .
When I started bike commuting, riding from Bernal to the Financial District, I had two that stick out: "skinny woman," and "old military guy." Just before 8 in the morning she was always running, and he was always walking on the Embarcadero near the ball park. She wore black tights, a pony tail, and, yes, was very skinny. He wore old-style running shorts (the short kind), had short gray hair, and wasn't really power-walking in the Olympic style, but was walking hard, if that makes sense. Normally shirt off, I feel like he has the faded, greening, naval-style tatoo, but maybe I just always thought he should. I still see them every now and again, if I'm a little early and they are a little late.
There were times when they weren't there in the morning. Stretches during which old military guy would miss several days and I'd start to wonder about him and what might have happened. Then he'd be back.
There's the security guard at the parking lot I ride past at my building. We wave and greet each other most mornings. When she's not there I wonder how she's doing and what she's up to.
Now, on my ride from Burlingame, there's a guy who's always coming down Airport as I'm heading up it, around Brisbane and South City. Red helmet, blue shirt, black bike. And I know he goes at least as far as Burlingame, because I've seen him there a couple of times at the end of the day, headed north.
Then there are the people on the train. Black-haired Specialized Allez rider. No-on-8 Sticker Guy. Loud, anti-government guy. Bald, compact, serious-rider guy. Bike-activist yeller woman. Webcor-uni guy.
Now, with people you pass while riding, of course you wouldn't strike up a conversation with them, but nonetheless you have a connection with them. It's a funny thing . . .
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
CalTrain: Bike Tags
It's not hard, folks. Put a destination tag on your bike. Many of the local bike shops have them for free at their counters. Don't have one handy? Grab a piece of paper and tape it to the top tube.
And if you're the guy who doesn't have a destination tag, don't aggressively cross examine the person putting their (properly tagged) bike in front of yours. Tell them where it's going -- nicely, with a tone of regret that you're the bum who hasn't tagged his bike. You can be sure that cyclist doesn't want to get in your way and is actively wondering where you are going. You're the problem, not the other way around.
Yeah, I'm talking to you, annoying guy on last night's 6:33.
PS. I get off at Millbrae (like the tag says), the first stop. I won't be getting in your way.
And if you're the guy who doesn't have a destination tag, don't aggressively cross examine the person putting their (properly tagged) bike in front of yours. Tell them where it's going -- nicely, with a tone of regret that you're the bum who hasn't tagged his bike. You can be sure that cyclist doesn't want to get in your way and is actively wondering where you are going. You're the problem, not the other way around.
Yeah, I'm talking to you, annoying guy on last night's 6:33.
PS. I get off at Millbrae (like the tag says), the first stop. I won't be getting in your way.
Monday, August 17, 2009
A Note to Drivers: USE YOUR TURN SIGNAL!
I'm lucky, most of my route to and from work either has light traffic or wide bike lanes. I feel like where I ride cars and cyclists are able to effectively share the road. Now, I know drivers will sometimes do unexpected things. Hey, so will I, so I'm ok with that. Not that I always appreciate it, but I'm ok with it. That said, the ONE thing that would really, really help: using your right turn signal.
If you're turning right, parking on the side of the street, please, please, please use your right turn signal. Oh, and if you're not turning right, please don't use your right turn signal.
If you use it, I promise to give you the room you need. Most other cyclists will do the same (most . . .).
If you don't? Well, I'll probably just curse and give you a nasty look. But I nearly saw a fight break out the other day involving another wronged cyclist. Just use your turn signal. Seriously.
If you're turning right, parking on the side of the street, please, please, please use your right turn signal. Oh, and if you're not turning right, please don't use your right turn signal.
If you use it, I promise to give you the room you need. Most other cyclists will do the same (most . . .).
If you don't? Well, I'll probably just curse and give you a nasty look. But I nearly saw a fight break out the other day involving another wronged cyclist. Just use your turn signal. Seriously.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Bay Area Microclimates
Left the house this morning and it was clear, sunny, and calm. By the time I reached San Bruno, there was a pretty stiff wind and I could see the fog pouring over the hill over South City. Sure enough, South City remained windy (head windy) and foggy. Fortunately, over Airport around the San Bruno "Mountain," that wind became a tailwind (which was appreciated; I was tired to begin with today). So around the "mountain," expecting a stiff headwind on the other side.
Nope. Sunny. Clear. Calm. Weird.
But that's life riding from the Peninsula to the City.
Nope. Sunny. Clear. Calm. Weird.
But that's life riding from the Peninsula to the City.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Need to Lock Your Helmet?
Can't say I've ever felt compelled to lock my helmet up with my bike, but I can see the utility in it (motorcycles often have built-in helmet locks). Just haven't done it. Anyway, Blake, the maker/inventor (?) of this device contacted me below, and . . . why not?
http://www.thehelmetlock.com/spread_the_word.php
Looks like a handy device. Wouldn't necessarily stop a really motivated helmet/bike thief, but how many really motivated helmet thiefs are there, really? Probably not many (a truly motivated bike thief? If your u-lock isn't good enough, you'll have bigger complaints than the loss of your helmet). Seems like a pretty good idea. Good luck, Blake.
Edit, 8/12/08: So after writing this yesterday I took my bike to the ballgame. Not wanting to leave my road bike parked outside at PacBell/Cingular/AT&T (can we just call it "Giants"?) Park and with a heavy load to carry in to work, I road my mountain bike (and took CalTrain). So I get to the game, but did I really want to bring my helmet with me inside the stadium? Of course not. So there I am thinking about how handy Blake's product would be, mere hours after stating that I don't generally have a need for such a thing. Ironic.
Anyway, it turns out my u-lock was just big enough to fit through my helmet, my frame, and the wide front MTB wheel. So I got away with it. Nonetheless, I would've preferred one of Blake's helmet locks.
http://www.thehelmetlock.com/spread_the_word.php
Looks like a handy device. Wouldn't necessarily stop a really motivated helmet/bike thief, but how many really motivated helmet thiefs are there, really? Probably not many (a truly motivated bike thief? If your u-lock isn't good enough, you'll have bigger complaints than the loss of your helmet). Seems like a pretty good idea. Good luck, Blake.
Edit, 8/12/08: So after writing this yesterday I took my bike to the ballgame. Not wanting to leave my road bike parked outside at PacBell/Cingular/AT&T (can we just call it "Giants"?) Park and with a heavy load to carry in to work, I road my mountain bike (and took CalTrain). So I get to the game, but did I really want to bring my helmet with me inside the stadium? Of course not. So there I am thinking about how handy Blake's product would be, mere hours after stating that I don't generally have a need for such a thing. Ironic.
Anyway, it turns out my u-lock was just big enough to fit through my helmet, my frame, and the wide front MTB wheel. So I got away with it. Nonetheless, I would've preferred one of Blake's helmet locks.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Clears the Head
Was out at a show late last night. Woke up tired this morning. Had a mood to match. Got on the bike to come to work and was a little tired; not a morning to challenge last Monday's time and speed records.
It's summer in the City, and beautiful. By the time I got to work, I was all smiles. Bike commuting is good like that.
I wonder how CalTrain was this morning . . .
It's summer in the City, and beautiful. By the time I got to work, I was all smiles. Bike commuting is good like that.
I wonder how CalTrain was this morning . . .
Friday, August 7, 2009
CalTrain: the Bike Car
I've been riding into work all week, so I've missed out on my morning CalTrain fun. But not today. Nothing big this morning, but people, who do you suppose the "Bike Car" is for? Had to fight my way through the crowd of non-cyclists packing the coach's doorway to get my bike back to its rightful place. Not too bad this morning, but always a little annoying.
It is a constant war between the cyclists and the people who (a) want to be closest to the train station when they get to the City; and (b) the people who are too lazy to walk to the next car down when headed out of the City.
Every now and again you'll get some outraged cyclist who climbs aboard and starts yelling at all non-cyclists to get off the coach and make room for the people who are supposed to be there. It rarely works, but hey, maybe it makes them feel better.
Last night was a good one, though. A guy followed a woman up the stairs to the empty seat she took and said, "you know, this car is for cyclists and I saw you get on this car without a bike. Would you please move to another car?" Despite the "please" it wasn't the nicest approach ever, and frankly, I can't believe the guy thought it might actually work. Suffice it to say, it didn't.
It is a constant war between the cyclists and the people who (a) want to be closest to the train station when they get to the City; and (b) the people who are too lazy to walk to the next car down when headed out of the City.
Every now and again you'll get some outraged cyclist who climbs aboard and starts yelling at all non-cyclists to get off the coach and make room for the people who are supposed to be there. It rarely works, but hey, maybe it makes them feel better.
Last night was a good one, though. A guy followed a woman up the stairs to the empty seat she took and said, "you know, this car is for cyclists and I saw you get on this car without a bike. Would you please move to another car?" Despite the "please" it wasn't the nicest approach ever, and frankly, I can't believe the guy thought it might actually work. Suffice it to say, it didn't.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Mornin', Sea Dog
When I lived in the City, I rode down Terry Francois every day on my way to work. I got to know my friend the Sea Dog. Well, that's a little silly, it's just a sheet metal cutout in the shape of a dog. It used to have an orange anchor painted on it, too, but that's gone now. Anyway, the Sea Dog stands on the falling down wooden piers just north of the dry docks at 18th. It signified reaching the Bay as I came over from Bernal Heights. When I ride in (as I have every day this week), I take the same route through the City, so I still see the Sea Dog a few times a week.
This morning I took a picture on my way past (you can just make him out to the left of the ledge in the middle):
While I was at it, I took a another on Terry Francois. TF and the Embarcadero are the prettiest parts of the ride. This overlooks the Marina past the ball park as TF turns back towards 3rd.
While I was at it, I took a another on Terry Francois. TF and the Embarcadero are the prettiest parts of the ride. This overlooks the Marina past the ball park as TF turns back towards 3rd.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Race
Today started off fairly mellow. I'm not playing hockey this mid-week, so I'm riding into the office an extra time or two. This being the third day in a row (that doesn't happen often), I wasn't sure if I should press or take another leisurely ride like yesterday. Despite putting a little extra air in my tires last night, a little headwind to start off deflated my attitude a little, enough to slow me from really going for it, so I spent the San Mateo County portion of the ride just cruising along, nothing special.
It's funny, though. Attitude makes all the difference, and little things make big differences to your state of mind. I pulled up to the light at Airport and Grand in South City right beside the SamTrans 292, which runs along Airport, up Bayshore, and down to Mission. Basically the same route I was taking. The light turned green, and we started off from the same place. The bus, of course, has a higher top speed, but doesn't normally accelerate as fast and has to make stops for its riders.
So, I pulled away from the bus and started up the little hill on Airport. As I was cresting the hill, not really working that hard, the bus came careening by. Headed down Bayshore, it pulled into the bike lane to pick up its next round of passengers . . . and the race was on.
I bolted out around and made a dash for it. I take Tunnel and meet up with
Bayshore again headed up and over 101. I wasn't really pushing that hard on Tunnel, but at Bayshore there was the 292, again, waiting in traffic for the light at 3rd. Now the race was really on. Up the hill I cranked, then across 3rd, over 101, and onto the descent on Bayshore (which is the fastest part of my ride). At Salinas the 292 passed me, but again it had to pick up passengers just before the U-Haul depot, and I passed it back. Then we were stopped at another light together (killing my downhill momentum). By this time I was fully in the mindset, so no more lollygagging. The light turned and I was off. Despite the moderate incline, I was pushing hard and keeping just ahead of the bus.
At Silver I knew I had ST292 beaten; I held it off to the light, cruised through, and saw the 292 had another stop to make behind me as I flew down the northside of Bayshore. Right on Alemeny, left on Loomis, back up to Bayshore, then right on Cesar Chavez, and I had won (at Cesar Chavez, the bus gets on 101 for the last leg before Mission -- as far as I'm concerned CC is the finish line in that race, though with traffic on 101 I wouldn't be too surprised to learn I beat it to the downtown bus depot, too).
Of course, by then my mind was right to keep the cranks turning, so I finished up fairly strong. I didn't kill myself down Illinois and Terry Francois, but turned it up a notch around the Embarcadero, keeping it between 23 and 25 until I reached the Ferry Building.
The moral of the story? It's all in your head. Oh, and I'm faster than SM292 (at least for today), but no, I can't take you downtown.
It's funny, though. Attitude makes all the difference, and little things make big differences to your state of mind. I pulled up to the light at Airport and Grand in South City right beside the SamTrans 292, which runs along Airport, up Bayshore, and down to Mission. Basically the same route I was taking. The light turned green, and we started off from the same place. The bus, of course, has a higher top speed, but doesn't normally accelerate as fast and has to make stops for its riders.
So, I pulled away from the bus and started up the little hill on Airport. As I was cresting the hill, not really working that hard, the bus came careening by. Headed down Bayshore, it pulled into the bike lane to pick up its next round of passengers . . . and the race was on.
I bolted out around and made a dash for it. I take Tunnel and meet up with
Bayshore again headed up and over 101. I wasn't really pushing that hard on Tunnel, but at Bayshore there was the 292, again, waiting in traffic for the light at 3rd. Now the race was really on. Up the hill I cranked, then across 3rd, over 101, and onto the descent on Bayshore (which is the fastest part of my ride). At Salinas the 292 passed me, but again it had to pick up passengers just before the U-Haul depot, and I passed it back. Then we were stopped at another light together (killing my downhill momentum). By this time I was fully in the mindset, so no more lollygagging. The light turned and I was off. Despite the moderate incline, I was pushing hard and keeping just ahead of the bus.At Silver I knew I had ST292 beaten; I held it off to the light, cruised through, and saw the 292 had another stop to make behind me as I flew down the northside of Bayshore. Right on Alemeny, left on Loomis, back up to Bayshore, then right on Cesar Chavez, and I had won (at Cesar Chavez, the bus gets on 101 for the last leg before Mission -- as far as I'm concerned CC is the finish line in that race, though with traffic on 101 I wouldn't be too surprised to learn I beat it to the downtown bus depot, too).
Of course, by then my mind was right to keep the cranks turning, so I finished up fairly strong. I didn't kill myself down Illinois and Terry Francois, but turned it up a notch around the Embarcadero, keeping it between 23 and 25 until I reached the Ferry Building.
The moral of the story? It's all in your head. Oh, and I'm faster than SM292 (at least for today), but no, I can't take you downtown.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Beautiful
Monday is my work day. With the weekend of rest, Monday is the day to push myself, to try to increase my speed and decrease my time. That's what I did yesterday. It was rewarding. Despite a little head wind on the San Francisco side of the San Bruno "Mountain," I accomplished both goals.
Today was a day to take it easy. I don't really ever completely slack on my way into work (I still need to get there), but today I wasn't pushing myself, just maintaining a nice, civilized pace. And was it ever worth it. The perfect day for a little bike commute. Cool, no wind, hit the lights nicely (a couple stops, but not bad), and this (from my office window, but it gives you an idea):
)
There are many reasons this is one of the better places in the world to ride a bike, this is but one . . .
Today was a day to take it easy. I don't really ever completely slack on my way into work (I still need to get there), but today I wasn't pushing myself, just maintaining a nice, civilized pace. And was it ever worth it. The perfect day for a little bike commute. Cool, no wind, hit the lights nicely (a couple stops, but not bad), and this (from my office window, but it gives you an idea):
There are many reasons this is one of the better places in the world to ride a bike, this is but one . . .
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