Tag Archives: cycling

BRRR!

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Summer may not be officially over but it’s not nice out there.  Gone are the cool morning rides followed by blazing hot evening trips home.  This morning it was 8 degrees with a correspondingly cold wind from the SE, precisely the direction I was headed. Coming home it had warmed considerably to…12.  The wind kindly changed to blow from the north keeping the riding-into-the-wind theme going for the trip home.

My rather excellent route contains three kilometres of road with the rest on the bicycle path.  Due to the route reconstruction, the detour requires I cross the railroad tracks at the Trans Canada.  What are the chances that a train and I are going to be at the crossing at the same time?  100% today.  So with the wind gleefully in my face, I detoured off the path and climbed up to the 16th Ave overpass.  I didn’t shift soon enough and found myself out of cranking power a couple of meters from the top so hopped off to hike it up.  As I wheeled west along 16th, I couldn’t help but notice the last rail car disappear underneath me.

A lesser man might take this as a source of frustration if he were running late (notice a theme here?), into a freezing headwind and finding himself making an extraneous climb for no reason.  Know what though?  I was preoccupied with something else.  My little scramble up the hill carrying the bike was like floating.  It had been absolutely without effort, as though the slope wasn’t a slope and the bike carried itself.  Well that’s cool. I wondered if it had been a result of the headwind preload I’d been riding into.  The upside of climbing over the tracks is coming down the switchbacks on the other side – with the path to myself I rode down as fast as I dared, all my weight on the outside pedal as I leaned hard right then left then right again.  A wee reward for a wee climb.

Weather conditions for the ride home were equally miserable if marginally warmer (note to self – get some gloves).  I spotted a rabbit as I made the short climb up to Max Bell and not any old rabbit – a rabbit wearing a yellow jersey (Tour de France overall leader’s jersey colour).  How could I not chase?  As I was climbing out of Max Bell towards the overpass, he was disappearing on the west side.  This is perhaps my 2nd favourite section – a long gentle climb with a fast descent that, traffic permitting allows you to carry lots of speed as you cut the path and go up and over the dirt to the next path segment.  By the time I made the corner under the train bridge he was less than 10 meters ahead.  I reeled him in and passed him before the canal bridge.  I don’t care that his yellow jersey was in fact a yellow MEC jacket not unlike my purple one, nor that his fenders were rattling.  Or that he had loaded panniers.  I bid him a cheery nice day for a ride ‘eh  as I passed.  He looked absolutely miserable pedaling into the headwind.  I’d have smiled if I wasn’t already back in mouth-breather mode chasing down a runner.

This cold weather is playing with my resolve to ride as late and often as I can this winter.  The path is not one of those slated to be plowed during the winter which means I’d have to find a road route.  This does not fill my heart with anything but abject terror.  Calgary drivers are horrendous enough when you’re in another car.  On dry pavement.  On a sunny day.  Maybe I could ride the side roads to the path, shoulder the bike  and throw on a set of cross-country skis like some sort of bizarre biathalon/cyclocross mashup.  That sounds like something Thomas would do.  Whatever – I’m not quitting before Adam does.

Calling for 5 degrees tomorrow morning.  Might have to find some pants soon.

I Ride Alone

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While it may come as a surprise to some, I have many friends some of whom are even real.  Many of those fine folks ride bicycles and yet I continue to find myself riding alone.  No, that’s not accurate – I ride alone to find myself.  It’s a choice.

Take Ken.  I’ve known Ken longer than I haven’t, since before we were old enough to drive.  That we’ve landed in the same new city, in the same industry and continue to enjoy each other’s company is one of life’s remarkable blessings.  Ken is family.  Ken is also nuts.  When he goes riding, he has an entirely different definition of riding than I do.  He loads his bike into a truck, hauls it to the top of a mountain and proceeds to fling it and himself off the mountian.  He is quite accomplished at this and routinely tops not only his age category but the entire field save one or two teenagers who still operate secure in the knowledge that they are indestructible and invincible.  Frankly I’m afraid to ride with Ken.

Ken's broken Canfield Jedi. Why I am afraid.

Or Rick.  Rick is another childhood friend that landed in the same city and can find it in his constitution to tolerate me, hence is also family.  Rick is a reformed recumbent rider.  Yeah…I know.  No, we don’t talk about it.  It was sad but he’s come back to the light and now owns a nice Canondale Lefty.  I’m not certain he rides it but he owns it which is really the first step through recumbent rehab.  We don’t ride together as his Charlie Harper lifestyle leaves little time for cycling these days.  Actually, I’m waiting until he’s fully recumbent-cured before sharing cycling space with him.  Don’t want to get any on me.

There’s Thomas.  Known local racer and avid rider.  Despite coming to work in stretchy pants and tap shoes any time it wasn’t raining (or snowing), I somehow missed his enthusiasm and had to discover cycling on my own.  He’s been a trusted resource for advice on cycling gear which I have promptly ignored every time because I am thick.  I did ride with Thomas for a couple of kilometres however his easy, chatty, no-handed spinning beside me while I struggled to keep up suggested this was not something that was going to be repeated.  It would kill me and bore him at the same time.

Adam – frequent and only non-blood-related commenter (thank you) and co-worker.  He too rides to work more days than he doesn’t but he didn’t always.  I mentioned one day that I was planning to ride to work soon – I was almost conditioned, almost ready to make the round trip and then I was going to bicycle commute!  He rode in the next morning stealing my imagined thunder.  Adam however was insturmental in goading me into making that first commute.  He arrives while the sun is still in bed and leaves correspondingly early, and travels east to my west.  That and he would ride me off his wheel before we got out of the parking lot are why we don’t ride together.  Sort of like Chris.

Chris works with Adam and I.  He is also the smallest guy I’ve ridden with (not a random observation, stick with me).  Chris Thomas’d me riding with no hands and happily chatting away as I tried to think of excuses for being out of breath almost immediately after we started.  He took the lead but it is nigh impossible for a man that is six feet tall and 220 pounds to draft behind someone who is considerably smaller.  Like a bear drafting rabbit.  I think he was taunting me.  Luckily for me Chris and I overlap our commute only briefly and that saves me from coming up with more excuses.

You know who I ride the most often with?  Of course you don’t.  Alberto.  Alberto works with Adam and Chris and I but he lives a mere kilometre away.  We run into each other at the same set of lights a few times a week and then sprint like madmen the remaining distance to work.  He, unwilling to get beat by a fat knocking-on-forty man with a backpack and I out to show the pretender wearing jeans that an old guy can in fact leave him behind.

Honourable mentions:

Bernie – a master’s degree, a penchant for fine muscle cars and one of the nicest, most unassuming people I know.  He wisely followed Thomas’ advice on bicycle selection and reports that his Devinci is a thing of beauty to ride.  Alas, he moved to the US to hang around the pool and as a fringe “benefit” has real-life gunplay drama unfold in front of him.

Wade – mechanical engineer, pending fatherhood status (congratulations!).  Also followed Thomas’ advice and picked up a nice Devinci Tosca then promptly moved to the US with Bernie.

Ben – with a smile on his face and a Frappaccino in his hand, he is one of the most  laid back individuals I know.  Yet another of those wise enough to take Thomas’ advice, he owns a bike however nobody has ever seen him ride it.  He’s talked about riding…

Point of note – all of the people above with the exception of one (who shall remain nameless, but his name rhymes with Lawmass) are incredibly laid back and all are generous to a fault.  I am lucky to know them, though they are much luckier to know me.  Goes without saying.

One of the coolest side-effects of making the decision to ride to work – apart from not sitting in traffic, not spending money on fuel, dropping 25+ pounds, building new muscles in my legs and generally just feeling awesome?  There’s the 1710 riders group now.  1710 is our division’s internal identifier and our group?  Out of 36 staff, 3 of us ride to work daily, a 4th at least once a week and a 5th has started.  2 more have inquired about time and gear and how to do it (just do it).  5 months ago, nobody rode to work and today?  More than 10%!  How cool is that?  Beyond that, despite his comment to the contrary, my dad has expressed an interest in riding again and my sister has already started riding.  Best Wife rides despite desperately needing a better bike, complete with 100 pounds of trailer and children latched on behind her (one of whom gets a kick out of dragging her foot on mommy’s wheel).

I am surrounded by cycling goodness!  How great is my life?  Pretty damn great.  I will continue to spend my rides alone however.  It is a respite from the noise of a house with three children.  It is time to clear my head, stare at my pumping knees and feed the suffering.

Questions from a Cycling Noob

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One of the things I discovered being a noob cyclist is that you have many questions about your new-found obsession.   What kind of bike should I buy?  What brand?  Where should I spend my money?  Do I need those weird shoes that permanently mount your feet to your pedals?  Is that butt-floss seat (properly referred to as a saddle) a medieval torture device?  What’s with those stretchy pants?  I feel certain the vast experiences I’ve amassed in my 16 week cycling adventure will do nothing to help you, but I’m going to blather about them anyway.

Last things first – those stretchy pants.  If they were just Lycra on their own, their purpose would be singular – to hide the sweaty marks.  Really.  Black does a great job of hiding the fact that you have a sweaty butt, especially if you’re expending any effort.  Think about this the next time you feel compelled to touch one of those butt-floss saddles on someone else’s bike.  However – they are not simply skin-tight shorts, they have a chamois, a pad inside.  The pad’s purpose is of course to provide some relief from the inevitable friction that occurs between well…anything touching the saddle and the saddle itself.

I have resisted the jump to the Lycra shorts to date, but I’m cheating a little.  On a recent 50km ride in my usual Levi’s cargo shorts and cotton jockey briefs, I discovered what they meant when they talked about friction in sensitive areas.  I also understood the no-cotton mantra.  By the end of my ride I was dying to get off the bike and into a tub of cold water.  Not pleasant.  It put my plans of long rides on indefinite hold until something could be done.  Yet, I was still not ready to be a fat guy in stretchy pants.  Dilemma.

Enter MEC’s Ace Cycling Liner Shorts.  Designed to go under the outerwear of your choice, they offer some of the protection of the traditional cycling shorts, without having to be standing in the middle of a coffee shop mid-ride painfully aware that there is but a tiny lick of Lycra between you and total exposure.  The chamois is, when comparing to the high-end shorts and bibs, thin and according to the MEC site, rated for “medium distance” rides – whatever that is.  How well do they work?  I love them.

I used to experience some “irritation” where my inner thighs meet the perineum even on my short commute.  This could be temporarily addressed by swinging my knees out at the top of the pedal stroke to get some stretch in the area, but this was not a long-term solution and did nothing for the long-distance problem that threatened to wear a hole in places there shouldn’t be one.  It also looked stupid.  Since I picked them up a couple of weeks ago, I’ve not ridden without them.  I wear (and wash – that’s key) for every ride and at the end of my recent 70km ride I had zero chafing complaints.  I’ve made a point of paying attention to how things feel on my back-and-forth commuting and can say with confidence they were worth the ultra-cheap $29.  It’s much easier to find the pleasure in the suffering now.  Oh – they don’t hide the sweat so much as they wick it into my cargo shorts.  Oh well.

If you’re new to cycling and you’re wondering about padded shorts – get them.  Whether it’s these inexpensive stealth models or expensive high-end bib shorts used with chamois cream (no I’m not kidding), you’ll be glad you made the leap.

-quick side note: most web sources strongly advocate high-quality chamois shorts over low cost ones.  I’m not in a position to argue having never tried anything other than these however these alone have made a world of difference and opened the door to longer distance rides over the nothing I had before.  Speaking of nothing…I tried commando once under the Levis.  Not good.  Not good at all.  Highly not recommended.

Spend your money with your local bike seller – the one that treats you with respect, answers your questions without rolling their eyes and gives free back rubs.  I bought mine at a pawn shop.  Really.

Don’t buy a brand, buy a bike.  Test ride them and buy the one you like.  If it’s well beyond your price range, sell a kidney.  You have two after all.

Clipless pedals – they have clips (cleats actually) that lock your foot to the pedals.  Good for falling down at traffic lights when you forget how to unclip.  You will of course still be clipped to your bike which you are now wrestling with like it’s a rabid cougar.  The light will turn green before you’re sorted.  If you’re really lucky, you’ll be waiting at the stop sign to cross a busy four lane road when some car driver will decide that even on your bike, in the middle of the lane, you are a pedestrian and will stop, driving the remaining 3 lanes of traffic to stop and wait which always makes them happy.  This is the best time to fall down while clipped in.  It will add some levity to the drive for passengers and infuriate the drivers.  Do I have them?   No though I am looking forward to the day I can humiliate myself further.  People who ride clipless swear by them and tout the benefit of being able to pull on the pedals on the upstroke.  That sounds like more work to me.

The butt-floss saddle – entirely too large a topic to cover in this post but the short answer is no – they’re pretty comfortable in so much as bike saddles go.   Unless they’re not.