Tailwind!

This morning I had a good push from mother nature, resulting in my fastest ride to work (52 minutes) and highest average speed yet (something I haven't worked at much lately). But I think the Olympic records committee would strike it from the books based on the tailwind. Still, it was fun!

Funny how your legs just feel stronger when you have a stiff wind at your back.

Not the Wicked Witch

I don't melt in water.

It's officially Fall in San Francisco; today the rain arrived. People often ask me, "what do you do when it rains?" The easy answer I typically give? "I get wet."

This isn't a big deal for me. I shower and change at work, so as long as the contents of my backpack stay dry (a simple garbage bad does the trick), getting wet in the morning isn't a big deal.

On the other hand, the water coming up from the road is pretty nasty. Full of grit, oil, whatever, it's not fun when that stuff sprays you. Fenders are a must. My road bike doesn't fit fenders, which pretty well rules out riding in from Burlingame on days like today.

Moreover, like the first snowfall of the season in places that get it, the first rain of the season wreaks havoc with drivers around here. The roads get slicker and the drivers stupider. Not the kind of day you want to be on a long commute with degraded braking power. Add to that the blocked drains with the resulting large puddles to ford (also because it's the first real rain of the season), and the big, lumbering, mountain bike felt like the right call.

Not all rainy days are created the same. Today's rain is pretty heavy, but some days a light little shower may not corral the road bike.

I remember one day in particular a couple of years ago when I still lived in San Francisco. The wind blew something fierce and the rain came down in sheets. Awful. The strong wind made any riding tough, but additional gusts nearly blew me to a stop. Add the pelting rain, and it was pretty ugly. So bad that I started laughing on my way home because riding in it was so ridiculous. edit: sounds like I might be in for more of the same tonight . . .

Still, I got home. And the rain soaked the folks who were walking just as much as it did me.

Added bonus? The rain clears out the fair-weather bike commuters from the train car, so I don't have to worry about getting a spot. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

Pride

You know that scene in Pulp Fiction where Marcellus is talking Butch through the dive he'll take in the fifth round?* (I would link it, but it appears Mirimax takes their copyright seriously.)

"you may feel a slight sting. That's pride f__ing with you. F__ pride. Pride only hurts, it never helps."

Maybe pride hurts when you're taking a bribe to fix a fight, but when you're on your morning commute?

The pain drives you.

When "that guy" passes you -- or you pass him -- it's time to dig deep. You can't let him get the better of you, right? Drive the legs, keep the rpms up, stay strong.

The other day I passed "that guy" on Terry Francois. He was moving along ok, but I was a little faster. Now, I played hockey the night before, so my legs weren't in tip-top shape to scream the rest of the way to work (or they would really scream at me), but I was doing alright. It wounded his pride though, and he hopped on my wheel. No time for mercy . . . or tired legs.

On the turn to the Embarcadero I observed traffic laws and followed the cars in front of me turning right. That was his opportunity as he bolted around them on the left, then weaved back through them back to the bike lane on the right. But it only gained him one car length and I made it up quickly as we approached the light at 2nd. Then he did something strange: he slowed to a stop.

Why is that strange? 2nd terminates at the Embarcadero, so there's no cross traffic. I've literally never seen a cyclist stop there without pedestrians in the cross walk.

He made a complete stop and I told him, "I'm a bad person, I run this one." He smiled, chuckled, and replied, "Got ticketed for it just a little while back." Ouch. He might have been this guy (same place, pretty close to the same time).

To his credit, he learned his lesson from that ticket. Not me; on I went, and thus ended the race. Though I kept motoring just to make sure. Plus, the sprint down the Embarcadero in the morning is a fun one.

Light or no light, he didn't stand a chance.

And, yes, I realize this is further evidence I'm becoming "that guy." Still no lycra pants or team jersey on the commute, though. That's where I'm drawing the line. For now.

* For you non-Tarantino fans, Marcellus is an organized crime boss, and Butch is the boxer he's paid to rig a fight.

Hetchins On Parade: A Guest Post

A guest entry from that serious-biker brother of mine. Thanks Josh!

The pedals haven’t hit yet. No scratches can yet be found on the new bike – a custom built Hetchins frame decorated with Phil and Schmidt hubs, a chromed lugged Nitto stem, a green Brooks swallow, Miche cranks with a TA chainring, and shiny black fenders. That one spill taken while trying to maintain a trackstand with the other foot forward merely bruised the ego, not the bike.

Commuting on a fixie is a blast. Every corner has a certain thrill, and the off camber traffic circles are better than coffee in the morning. Speed is easy to precisely regulate on the mixed use path to the boat house, and track stands are easier (with the accustomed foot forward). Brakes are a must when dealing with unpredictable traffic (like pedestrians running lights, cars backing blind out of parking spaces, off leash dogs, and cell phone obsessed teenagers), and it’s simply cool to be able to slow down no-handed. Riding one of the area’s most beautiful bikes stokes the ego too.

One of today’s highlights was trading smiles with the lady crossing (with the light) an intersection where I was balanced and awaiting a green light. Riding the fixie makes me smile, and smiles are best when shared.

Ed. Note: I'm not sure why it took me 30-some odd years to figure out what my dad and my brother were onto with this biking thing. I'm still not likely to ever become the biker my brother is (or has been, as he might point out), but it really is a superior form of transportation.

P.S. The Hetchins in question is Beeeautiful:

Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies . . .

Grow up to ride motorcycles.

On my way into work this morning I rode past a gruesome cleanup effort by SFPD. Suffice it to say, stay safe out there, people.

Headwind

The good news? The wind blowing to the southeast is blowing that unseasonably hot weather out of here.

The bad news? It was blowing right in my face this morning.

The good news? It gave me a little push up my two climbs.

The bad news? It beat me down, took me down on average about one gear and about two mph.

The good news? I still beat SM 292 from Grand to Cesar Chavez (that makes me 4-1).

The bad news? Those mphs cost me about 4 minutes on my way in.

The good news? The lights made up for a little of that.

The bad news? Weird traffic stuff going on this morning.

The good news? I didn't run over any pedestrians today.

And more good news to finish on? It was still a great way to start a Friday heading into the holiday weekend.

Why Did The Pedestrian Cross The Road . . . Against A Red Light?

Grrr. That karma I thought I had yesterday didn't last long.

On my way home to the train station I ride down the Embarcadero past the Ferry Building. Sometimes there are a great many people waiting to cross the Embarcadero to catch their ferry. They use the crosswalk pictured here:

See, but in the picture traffic is stopped and the pedestrians are crossing with their walk light.

Last night I approached the crosswalk and had a green light. Now, I was moving right along, not at a scorching pace, but probably around 20 mph, after all I was in a protected bike lane and had a green light.

Huddled in a large mass waiting for the light to change, two pedestrians waiting at the crosswalk lost their patience -- and their minds -- and stepped off the curb right in front of me. Right where that "don't" sign is. Too bad the sign isn't really there.

I gave a shout ("NO!"), slammed on the breaks, and hoped. But hope is not a method. The first one off the curb, a man, was a step ahead of me and leaped forward, out of the way (good thing for him my reaction was stopping, not swerving as many people would do). The second off the curb, a woman, tried to get back to the curb, and very nearly did. As my bike pulled to a halt, my handlebars glanced off what I think was her purse.

As my bike came to a sudden stop and a bump at the same time, I more or less folded over and crumpled down. Not bad -- basically like the kind of fall you have when you first get clipless pedals and you practice getting out of them -- but not fun, either.

I immediately jumped up and asked if she was ok, which she was. Then I picked up my bike, and more than a little shaken, looked it over to make sure it was ok.

The guy? He literally ran away.

Several people, including a bicyclist who had been pretty far behind me, immediately came to my defense and said quite aloud that it was clearly their (his and her) fault, and that I should get the offenders' contact info. I was rattled. I could tell I was ok, a quick assessment of my bike told me it was more or less ok, and I looked over my work clothes (which I rarely wear on my way home, but I was on my way to a meeting) and they were fine, notwithstanding a little grease here or there (that's what stain removers are for). Basically I was grateful that everyone and everything was ok, I was in a hurry, and I was definitely still rattled, so I dismissed the need for her contact info.

In hindsight I should have taken it. While I don't think I would ask her to pay for anything, the stains should come out, and there isn't much more than superficial scratching here or there on the bike, I might have discovered something later (a tear in my clothes, a dent in the bike, the scrape on my arm that I did discover later, etc.).

Stuff like that shakes you up. It took quite a while last night to clear my head.

But all's well that end's well, right? She (and he) was lucky, had she stepped out a second later I would have really run her over, rather than just bumped her bag. Someone would have broken something.

Should our friends at the City's transportation department consider signs warning people to look for cyclists? (hint, hint . . .)

It's just another reminder: crime doesn't pay (even if it's only jaywalking).

Well, shoot, I'll keep jaywalking, too; just check the bike lane, before stepping out in the street against a light, ok?

PS. I also got a flat on the way in this morning. What happened to that good karma!?!

Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?

To get away from the foxes chasing it?

It's a strange urban jungle out there, but sometimes karma treats the bike commuter pretty well.

Over the last few weeks I've been trying to ride in to work Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, taking the train in on Wednesday. Yesterday I was running a little behind, so I took the train. As luck would have it, the train was delayed and I would have gotten to work at the same time had I ridden in. Bad karma, eh?

Maybe not. Because I took the train yesterday, I rode in today. In addition to hitting nearly all of the lights correctly I got something much cooler. Understand that most of my ride is through industrial areas. Most of the wild things I see on the way to work are new and exciting trucks and tractors. But not this morning.

On my way north on Tunnel Road, past the old San Francisco landfill, two foxes casually skipped across the road in front of me. Very cool.

The Helmet Lock: A Useful Tool

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.

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.

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:

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).

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 . . .

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 . . .

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.

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.

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.

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 . . .

In Honor of the Departed

(Warning: Wince Inducing Photos Below)

The Departed:

I've been at this bike commuting thing for roughly 5 years now. I think I can safely say I'm a fairly competent cyclist, seeing as how that adds up to somewhere north of 1000 days I've ridden my bike in the recent past. But accidents happen. And my first did a few weeks ago, as I recently alluded to. I wasn't hit by a car, wasn't doored, wasn't run over by an errant elephant. Nope. Something strange happened while I was all by myself and over I went.

Luckily I was moving pretty fast at the time and didn't have much time to react before I hit the ground. That kept me from getting my hand out to brace for impact (which invariably leads to a broken wrist or collarbone, and maybe serious elbow injury). Instead, I hit the fleshy parts . . . and that's a good thing (mostly).


Once upon a time I went through Army Airborne training. They spend two weeks teaching you how to fall, then the third week they push you out of the plane a few times to see if it took. The basics of falling are your points of contact: (1) Balls of your feet; (2) calf; (3) hip; (4) butt; (5) shoulder blades. That's the idea. Your head isn't supposed to hit and they spend a bunch of time with you lying in the dust wearing your heavy ballistic kevlar helmet while the instructors scream at you to keep your head up. This helps build muscle memory and strength. Then they drop you a bunch of times from about 10 feet -- before sending you up in a plane -- to test how well it worked. Most of the time it works pretty well.

Well, here's how it worked out on Townsend (evil incarnate): feet in pedals, so no balls of feet first. Calves? Maybe. Hip? I think that was the first point of contact. Shoulder blade? Yup:about the same time as the side of my elbow (in Airborne school they don't drop you on asphalt): Then the back of my head. And it hit hard. No two weeks of fall training leading up to this one.

And that's where the Bell Corporation came in.
See those cracks along the bottom right (you can't see the hairline one on the left side)? I much prefer cracks in my helmet to cracks in my head. I assume most people feel the same way.


Let's face it, you don't wear your bike helmet because it looks cool. But if I hadn't been wearing mine I was in the hospital for sure, and maybe for a long time. So folks, take the helmet off your handlebars, rack, panniers, whatever, and put it on your head, securely fastened. Most days it will just mess up your hair. Someday, and you never know which one, it may just save you a trip to the hospital (or worse).

Full Use of the Lane?

Cyclists are allowed the full use of the lane. I know this because big yellow signs beside the road tell me so. But maybe those signs are difficult to interpret. What do you think?

This morning waiting at the light at the corner of Cesar Chavez and 3rd I see a cyclist at the front of the line in the middle lane, which makes sense. The left lane is a turn only onto 3rd (why anyone -- and I'm looking at you Silicon Valley Bike Coalition -- would recommend riding on 3rd is beyond me), the right lane is a straight or right turn onto 3rd, but used to be right turn only and is most often used for that, and 1/2 block later is the left turn onto Illinois that makes sense for cyclists heading downtown (SVBC, take note). So, you get in the middle lane, go straight, then 150 feet later turn left. Anyway, where this guy was made sense. Here's the satellite view:
The light turns green, he heads out, staying to the left of the lane (seeing as how he's turning left shortly), but he's not lightning fast, nor should he be, as he has to ride over the train tracks connecting the 3rd Street Rail to the MUNI service station. Apparently that was too much for the silver sedan behind him, who rocketed around him on the right -- but still fully in the same lane.

I caught up with the cyclist a moment later, "Apparently you're allowed the full use of the lane . . . as long as it's not his part of the lane."

Sigh.

Where Wheels Go To Die

It's there, on the outskirts of town, where empty old industrial buildings decay, pristine city streets give way to shadowy, unkempt ghettos, and the ghost of Jack Kerouac hovers, as if still living in the shanty towns that once accompanied the grit of heavy industry and international shipping. Literally, where the passing trains split the civilized from "the other side of the tracks." A place so dark and lacking in civility the residents of this beautiful San Francisco see fit to call it Town's End.

It's there, on dark, crumbling, rocky pavement, that the City claims its victims. It's there that dreams -- and wheels -- go to die.

Townsend. The bane of my commuting existence.

Allow me to explain. Since beginning my CalTrain/bike commute, I've ridden from my office, along the Embarcadero, to the train station at 4th and King to catch my ride home. It's an easy 2 miles, with fairly wide bike lanes and manageable traffic. You can stay on Embarcadero all the way to 4th, but where it turns into King you lose the bike lane and have to joust with autos intent on rocketing out onto 280 to get home, or you can turn right on Townsend, avoiding the traffic and shortening the ride (by about 1 block). But there's a problem. Townsend is a disaster.

My introduction is perhaps misleading: the China Basin area I'm talking about is actually quite nice: the ballpark is beautiful, there are several good restaurants and bars down there, new condos dot the landscape, and urban malls make up the remainder of the area. The tired and decaying industry that used to be there is largely gone, replaced through surprisingly effective urban renewal projects and city planning. A little further south you see some decaying industry, primarily down by the old shipyards and docks, and then, finally (pretty far south), you actually reach Hunter's Point, San Francisco's ghetto. I never actually ride that far down. China Basin's pretty nice. Except for Townsend.

I have what I misleadingly call "inside information" from a source at the City. The problem with Townsend is the endless argument over how to properly develop what remains undeveloped (or, in reality, un-redeveloped). Due to whatever pressures the various lovely interest groups bring to bear on the [sarcasm] always efficient [/sarcasm] Board of Supervisors, Townsend remains as is. Which translates to the worst road conditions I know. Riding down Townsend is like riding over a cobblestone road, but less predictable. Not ideal conditions on a bike.

It was bad enough when I was on my mountain bike, designed with fat tires, a wide stance, and a forgiving frame. It still jostled me daily as I returned to CalTrain. On the road bike? The 700x23 tires aren't designed for monster truck rallies, nor is the racing frame. And it got worse one fateful day as I changed lanes to turn onto 4th and into the train station. A bump, a pop, and my front wheel jerked to the side. Was it a rut? A groove in the road? A pothole? Does it matter? Over I went, leaving me beaten, bloody, and in need of both a new helmet and a new front wheel.

Townsend: where wheels go to die.

Breakin' the Law!

The motorcylce cop was writing a cyclist a ticket. That's not something you see every day. Moreover, the cyclist wasn't some fixie-riding, hipster bike messenger taking hits on, well, you know. Nope, just a guy commuting to work. In the five years or so that I've been at this, it was the first time I'd seen it.

Not that cyclists aren't constantly breaking the traffic laws (most often not stopping when a sign or a light indicates they should). Of course they (who am I kidding -- "we") are. But what did that guy do to get a ticket? A friend of mine was stopped once, but let go with a warning. He rolled a stop sign right next to a cop. Not smart, but still not enough for the officer to take the time to write the citation. So what's it take to get a ticket (or was the cop just in the mood?).

The thing that's frustrating about all of this is that I want to do the right thing, but I'm torn by two other influences; first, I don't want to stop when I don't have to; and second, the folks driving the cars apparently don't want me to follow the law, either. You know the situation: you roll up to a stop sign, see an approaching car and do the right thing: you stop. The driver looks at you like you're crazy, waves you on, and throws her hands up in disgust that you wasted her time like that (she's in a hurry, too). Even if the driver gets there before you, the pattern is often the same. What's a guy to do?

Well, here's what I do: I break the law, but I try not to get killed. If there's cross traffic, I stop, at least long enough to get a signal from the driver (I don't care if that guy's in a hurry, I want to make it home tonight in one piece). The biggest conundrum for me is riding on San Francisco's Embarcadero in the morning. I'm headed North from the train station, with the Bay to my right. That means even at the lights there is no cross traffic, because the roads T into Embarcadero. Well, there's almost no cross traffic: there are sometimes pedestrians. The commuters I ride with (and I) constantly blow those red lights. Poor cars are stacked up at them, we go right through. Now, I slow down and take a hard look for those pedestrians, but rarely do they appear, so away I go.

Is it the right thing to do? No. But (I rationalize), if I were on the sidewalk to my right (as many of my fellow bike commuters are), I wouldn't stop. What difference does the curb make? Moreover, I think I'm safer and far less likely to mow down a pedestrian than those guys up on the sidewalk, so why should they get to burn through, but not me? On top of that, at Bryant, where there actually is cross traffic entering the parking lot on the pier, I stop . . . or at least slow to a near stop to make sure there isn't any tracffic. Those guys up on the sidewalk barrel right through, and I've seen several close calls from that. So you see, I'm in the right . . . right!?!

That's what I tell myself, anyway.

Look, I want to live to see tomorrow as next as the next guy. From what I've seen from a lot of cyclists (commuters and otherwise), I'd say more than the next guy. But at the end of the day, we're not all great drivers all of the time. I get annoyed at cars and other cyclists that do dumb things, but the reality is I do them sometimes, too. I've had a close-ish call with a pedestrian or two that was my fault. I've misread a light change and taken off when it wasn't my turn. I've thought an intersection was clear when it really wasn't. You probably have, too. So patience with those who trespass against you . . . and caution, my friends.

My brother once wanted a speeding ticket on his bike. That was a traffic law he was more than willing to break. Alas, to my knowledge he never got one. That would be a neat trick.

It being my generation, I guess I'll leave on this note:

Hypocrisy, Politics, and the Bike Commuter

Ok, so hypocrisy and politics are synonyms, right?

There was big news for the bike commuter in 2008. Part of some spending bill or another that made its way through the federal government included tax relief for bike commuters. Makes sense. There was already a tax incentive to take public transit. You can (and I do) buy your public transit passes (BART tickets, MUNI pass, CalTrain tickets) pre-tax through your employer. That's a nice benefit, probably reducing the cost of those tickets by 1/4 or more (depending on your highest marginal tax rate). And it makes sense: it contributes to the public good by taking cars off the road, reducing congestion, and reducing pollution/emissions. So here's an added benefit for the bike commuter who removes a car from the road, produces virtually zero carbon emissions, and is probably healthier (costing everyone less in the shared burden of medical expenses).

Or at least that was what it seemed.

Turns out you can only take advantage of the tax credit if you don't take advantage of any other transportation-related tax relief. No double dipping, right? Well . . . you can order any combination of CalTrain, BART, and MUNI tickets, getting the tax break on all of them. Let's say you live in Oakland, but work in Palo Alto? To keep a car off the road you take BART to Millbrae then hop on CalTrain the rest of the way. You use your transportation credit on both. Or you take BART or CalTrain into the City and take MUNI from there. Tax relief for both.

Worse yet (and a generally inexplicable), you can use your pre-tax dollars to buy parking for your car. How on earth does that fit into all of this, and why is the government subsidizing more cars on the road? But on top of that broad question, why can you buy both public transportation tickets and parking pre-tax, but you can't combine your bike commuting tax relief with your public transportation tax relief? I mean that would make sense.

Hypocrisy. Some one should make a law . . .

Maybe I should write my congressperson.

(and if you're a bike commuter who is eligible for the tax credit, ping HR about it)

New Bike Computer

The last few months have seen a rapid change in my commuting decor. First, the new (used) bike. Second, bike jerseys. Now, a computer. There's no getting around it, I'm very nearly "that guy" everyone else rolls their eyes at and wants to pass.

I've never really cared to have a computer on my bike. I had to get to work and would get there when I got there, whether or not I knew exactly how fast or how far I was going. But when Performance Bike opened their new store in San Mateo 10 days ago and was giving away $20 gift cards, I wasn't going to turn that down. On top of the $20, my daughter gave the prize wheel a spin for me, and voila! She hit "the big prize." Looking at the "big prize" table, a bike computer was the obvious thing.

This isn't too fancy; it's not wireless, won't do my heartrate, no GPS. You know, about what you'd expect for $44.99 (or free, in my case). Last weekend I hooked it up. One false move with a ziptie (wireless does have a certain appeal); I've got one wrapped around the rear brake cable housing at the top of the down tube, but the brake still works fine, so for now I'm leaving it alone.

I admit it's kind of fun to have the computer. It's interesting to know what my top speed is, what my average speed is, and what my cadence is. I know now that my commute to work (when I ride all the way in) is very nearly exactly 17.5 miles. It's kind of fun to keep track of my total miles on the odometer. It's interesting to see what my speed is like on the flats, up hill, down hill, into and with the wind. All interesting.

A concern I started with, that I'd be distracted by the computer, hasn't materialized. I generally know what I'm looking for before I look down and can get the info in a hurry.

The biggest thing I think I'm feeling the computer do is speed me up. I want the speed I'm looking at to come up. I want that average speed to come up. Overall, I think the info the computer gives me pushes me harder. That's probably a good thing. Stronger, faster, and in better shape all sound pretty good.