I don’t like to say that I hate to travel. The statement seems to immediately make you a smaller, closed-minded person who is only capable of being comfortable in familiar surroundings. It seems to kill off any ideas that you might have a sense of curiosity or adventure, or that you are in any way cultured. And that kind of sucks.

So I say, yeah, I love to travel. Gimme Europe, I’ve never been, and southeast Asia too. Dying to go to India, even if the water might kill me, and Machu Picchu is definitely on the list.

If only all that traveling wasn’t involved…!

I’ll be honest. I’ve traveled enough times that the process just isn’t that exciting to me anymore. Unlike those who get excited at simply being inside an airport, the fluorescent lights and dry air characteristic of airplane terminals give me an instant exhaustion headache. I get cranky, thirsty, and bloated. Despite the countless times I’ve flown from Tokyo to New York or Philadelphia or Boston, I still haven’t shaken that feeling of wanting to just lie horizontally for at least 8 hours after a 12 hour flight. But of course there’s customs, immigration, baggage claim. And that headache.

So even if I tell myself that I have more friends in the city than in Boston, that it’s warmer down there, and that there are more vegan-friendly cafes in the Lower East Side alone than in all of Boston including Metro West, it’s strange that I’m making the trek out to NYC yet again. I got that headache [it’s not exclusive to airports], and I was also cranky, thirsty, and bloated, but this time it wasn’t family, home cooked meals, or the desire to simply get away that had me making the trip. It was a bicycle.

It’s not new – pictures of it abound on this blog – and it’s not even mine. But the aluminum Cyfac that I can somehow manage to stand over presents the perfect solution to my current lack of gears, exasperation at the cold weather in Boston, and desire to spend time with good friends. It has me spending more time sleeping in a weirdly vertical position than I really should be, typing out posts furiously to match the speed at which the bus tumbles down the Connecticut highway, all so I can clip in today and try my hand[s] at the whole gears thing yet again. True, the whole ordeal was slightly terrifying when I first tried it, but just like a girl’s persistent pursuit of a man can break his stubborn desire to stay an eternal bachelor, perseverance can pay off. And when we’re talking bicycles, not boys, it doesn’t really matter that you’ll probably embarrass yourself repeatedly in the process.

So I’m off – ready to suffer, fall, and/or bonk! If you’re in the NYC area and see a girl on a blue and silver Cyfac with a NYC Velo cap, give a holler [or even a wave!]. If I happen to be plastered on the street, feel free to pick me up and dust me off. Oh, but make sure to save the bike, first. That thing has C-Record on it.

[And the first Rapha Scarf Friday of the year...!]

Despite how addicting it was to watch le Tour over the weekend, I was grateful yesterday was a rest day. It was one less thing to miss, and simultaneously, one less thing to sigh and roll my eyes about.

Don’t get me wrong, I love watching the Tour. It was what came afterwards that has me shaking my head in remembered misery.

In fact, Sunday started out in a picture perfect way. A quick bike ride up to the East Village, beverages acquired at Think Coffee, then a jaunt into Soho to pick up pastries at Balthazar. Then, strolling back east on mostly-still-sleepy Sunday morning streets, walking within mere feet of Terry Richardson. Because a weekend in New York always requires some sort of celebrity sighting.

And then, of course, the Tour. With orange brioche, galette aux pommes, and an almond croissant that I’m still thinking about. Grabbing the last flaky half of the galette, I was half lying on the couch, feet supported by the trusty ottoman, plate resting on my chest, pastry shards flying as I shrieked and cheered on Pierrick Fedrigo and Franco Pellizotti over the soothing cadence of Phil Liggett. All, fortunately, with company that [hopefully] wasn’t noticing what a complete slob I can be.

Still humming on the tdf high, I reluctantly boarded a bus back to Boston at 1pm, leaving behind a city that’s quickly becoming a favorite. And two hours later, I was on the side of the highway.

In Connecticut. The middle of Connecticut. With a broken down bus and not enough seats to take us all home on the next two buses passing through. A random taxi pulled through and offered to take some of us to South Station for $250. It was tempting but none of us took him up on the offer. About two hours later, I threw my bike under yet another bus, and lulled into a sense of reassurance, passed out for a few hours in a jam-packed bus.

7 hours after I left NYC, we finally lurched into South Station. Grateful for the calories consumed earlier that day, I made it home by 8.30pm, then it was back to work until too late, and up too early for another Monday at the office.

I’m already planning another trip down to the city in a few weeks. And while Sundays in New York can start off decadently sweet with almond croissants and cycling, fearful of jinxing myself, I’m more than a little hesitant to indulge in both again.

But, you know, I can be persuaded otherwise…

Despite how addicting it was to watch le Tour over the weekend, I was grateful yesterday was a rest day. It was one less thing to miss, and simultaneously, one less thing to sigh and roll my eyes about.

Don’t get me wrong, I love watching the Tour. It was what came afterwards that has me shaking my head in remembered misery.

In fact, Sunday started out in a picture perfect way. A quick bike ride up to the East Village, beverages acquired at Think Coffee, then a jaunt into Soho to pick up pastries at Balthazar. Then, strolling back east on mostly-still-sleepy Sunday morning streets, walking within mere feet of Terry Richardson. Because a weekend in New York always requires some sort of celebrity sighting.

And then, of course, the Tour. With orange brioche, galette aux pommes, and an almond croissant that I’m still thinking about. Grabbing the last flaky half of the galette, I was half lying on the couch, feet supported by the trusty ottoman, plate resting on my chest, pastry shards flying as I shrieked and cheered on Pierrick Fedrigo and Franco Pellizotti over the soothing cadence of Phil Liggett. All, fortunately, with company that [hopefully] wasn’t noticing what a complete slob I can be.

Still humming on the tdf high, I reluctantly boarded a bus back to Boston at 1pm, leaving behind a city that’s quickly becoming a favorite. And two hours later, I was on the side of the highway.

In Connecticut. The middle of Connecticut. With a broken down bus and not enough seats to take us all home on the next two buses passing through. A random taxi pulled through and offered to take some of us to South Station for $250. It was tempting but none of us took him up on the offer. About two hours later, I threw my bike under yet another bus, and lulled into a sense of reassurance, passed out for a few hours in a jam-packed bus.

7 hours after I left NYC, we finally lurched into South Station. Grateful for the calories consumed earlier that day, I made it home by 8.30pm, then it was back to work until too late, and up too early for another Monday at the office.

I’m already planning another trip down to the city in a few weeks. And while Sundays in New York can start off decadently sweet with almond croissants and cycling, fearful of jinxing myself, I’m more than a little hesitant to indulge in both again.

But, you know, I can be persuaded otherwise…

I fell asleep in my Sidis today.

With my bike under me.

No, I wasn’t on some insane 24 hour bike race [unfortunately]. I was on a bus, heading down to a once more familiar city, but one I’ve never biked in. Groggy from a four hour bus ride punctuated with fits of sleep, I climbed onto my bike for the first time in New York, NY.

In Chinatown, to be exact. Which was, predictably, crawling with pedestrians. Clipped in on a freewheel, I just managed to dodge some old ladies dragging groceries and middle aged men who have to be involved in less than legal business.

This is like Boston…on meth. Or pure PCP. While Boston may be sleepy and nearly deserted at 7am, I can’t imagine biking in NYC can ever be as lethargic as my morning ride into South Station this morning. Even navigating the few short blocks from Chinatown to my sister’s apartment was more fast-paced than anything in Boston.

My sister told me that I would probably feel stifled if I ever lived in NYC after seeing pictures of Lexington. An NYC bike virgin, I had agreed.

Stifled? Here? That would definitely take a few years.

We have all been here before….nice video. Sometimes the city is just too much, nice to get back to nature once in a while.

Hooray, another weekend roundup!
(more…)

Sometimes in life you want to test the limits. Sometimes you want to see how fast you can go, or how far you can ride. The suffering is worth it in the end because you find a new limit, raise the bar just a little. You ask yourself a lot of questions during these tests, “can I make it one more mile?” “Can I make my legs go just a little bit faster?” “Is puking really such a bad option at this point?”

You ever think to yourself, “self, I wonder if the bone in my foot is stronger than a one inch thick cast aluminum metal bar?” If you are like me you probably ask yourself some version of this question just about every day. The real problem here is that it is almost impossible to test this limit on your own. What you really need is someone to help you out. Enter the Friendly Underpaid City Knowledge Earner Re-locater!, or FUCKER! for short. These tireless servants spend their morning moving young knowledge earner (students) to and from various locations around the town.

If you really want to test the strength of your foot bone you need to lodge it under a bus for some measure of time. This will allow you to see which will break first, your foot, or the 1 inch thick metal bar that attaches your pedal to your bike.

The easiest way to get your foot stuck under the side of a bus is to have it pass you on the left, then make a sudden right hand turn (with no signal). Then you can get your foot stuck under the side of the bus, if you don’t want to die (remember we are only testing the foot bone) you will need to make a sudden sharp and somewhat terrifying right hand turn.

If like me you are ridding a fixed gear bike you should pretty much be along for the ride at this point, as it is now impossible to get your foot out from under the side of the bus until it has been crushed through a full rotation. And I do mean CRUSHED, the full weight of the bus will be on your foot for several seconds as you ride through the turn, bumping off the side of the bus the entire time. Remember, don’t fall over or you will be crushed by the back wheel of the bus, and your entire test will be for nothing.

The thing about FUCKERs is that they often don’t feel the need to talk to you after you tell them they just helped you out with the test, they also don’t feel the need to give you their information until you call the cops. Once you do call the cops (it is important to get a second opinion on the results of the test), they change their tune from “I didn’t know” to “I didn’t do it.”

The other thing is that they often simply don’t care they helped you with the test, they most often don’t even notice that they crushed your shit helped you at all. Very strange, these FUCKERs are strange creatures.

So I know you are anxious to know the results! Was the bone in my foot stronger, or was the 1 inch thick metal bar stronger?!?!?! Well listen up bitches, you are reading the blog post of a bastard with the strongest foot bone in the city!

Check out this,

boooya!

So the results are, foot bone 1, 1 inch thick metal bar 0! In your face metal!

http://bicycling.511.org/

You are the most important part of your bicycle. Your bike should be sized to fit your body proportions and should match your style of riding, your skill level and where you plan to ride. The equipment you need depends on the type of riding you plan to do, but a safety-rated helmet and a strong lock are essential. Whether your bike is new or old, its gears, chain, brakes and tires must be in good working order.  Continues…http://bicycling.511.org/aboutyourbike.htm

http://www.sbbike.org/

Want to find out what’s happening on the Web for bicyclists? Here is our list of sites to check out, with an emphasis on California and regional resources. Clicking on any site will open it in a new browser window. Jump to the area that interests you most:

• Santa Barbara County bicycling
• California bicycling advocacy
• US bicycling advocacy
• International bicycling advocacy
• Bicycling standards & planning
• Sustainable transportation
• Online periodicals about bicycling
• Bicycle commuting

http://la-bike.org/

The following presents a few guidelines for safer riding for cyclists and motorists:

• Always wear a helmet.
• Always ride in the same direction as traffic.
• Be predictable and ride in a straight line. Do not weave in and out of parked cars
• If the lane is wide enough to safely share with cars, ride to the right side. Do not try to share the lane if it is too narrow. Do not ride in broken pavement or debris at the side of the street. Take the center of the lane if necessary.
• Ride far enough in the lane around parked cars so that you will not collide with opening car doors.
• When proceeding straight through an intersection with right-turn lanes, move to the lane going straight and allow vehicles to turn right on your right side.
• When making a left turn, move to the left before completing the turn, just like a motor vehicle. If you do not feel safe doing this, ride straight and cross the street you want to turn onto. At the other side of the street, dismount and turn your bike in your desired direction, then proceed when it is safe and legal to do so.
• When riding at night, always wear light colored or reflective clothes, and use both front and taillights, as well as reflectors.

http://www.bicyclesource.com/

Choosing Bike parts and gear:

Saddles: Is Softer Better
The first impulse a newbie rider who finds a saddle uncomfortable is to replace it with a softer one. Soft seats put the force of the rider’s weight in all the wrong places, rather than the sit-bones. Big springs may look plush, but they don’t work.
Bike Suspension

Suspension has been advancing rapidly mainly because of the spread of mountain biking. Whether it is front or rear, this article describes the advantages of each different type of suspension for your bike.
Sportswear Fabric Types and Attributes

What to wear on a ride? This article describes the differences between several different fabrics. GoreTex, Dacron, Lycra, Polypro: which material will give the best performance in a given condition?
What to Bring on a Ride

A comprehensive list of what to bring on bike rides, remember it’s always the tool you don’t have that your bicycle will need. How much food you will need and how to not get lost, be ready for anything….
Frame Construction

Learn about the different ways bike companies are manufacturing their frames. Strength, weight, durability of each construction technique.

What should your new bike have? Better find out…
Testing Brake Pads

Brake pads can make a significant difference in the stopping power of your bicycle, especially mountain bikes. This test shows which pad performs best in both wet and dry conditions… read on…
Brake Performance

A paper testing the temperature rise and performance on a steep descent from using two rim brakes, only the rear rim brake, and using a coaster brake. Lots of interesting information.
Bicycle Hardware Manufacturers on the Web

Links to scores of web sites of companies that makes bikes and components for both the road and trail. One of the best cycling company hyperlink lists on the World Wide Web.

Seriously this is awesome.

These people know what they are doing, this is perfect. Dear Boston, we need this kind of advertising. Boston of course would need to customize it for our special needs (their might need to be swearing and horn honking), but you know we could pull this off.