Brooks B-17. It isn't even broken in yet, but already it feels better than the saddle it replaces.
Wednesday
Update
A little progress on the 'Stone.
Brooks B-17. It isn't even broken in yet, but already it feels better than the saddle it replaces.
Brooks B-17. It isn't even broken in yet, but already it feels better than the saddle it replaces.
Friday
Contact Speed
I've been mostly a road rider all my cycling "career". I like pavement. But I don't like skinny tires, never have. I was always the guy who rode 700-28 & 32, while my friends were suffering with 700-18 & 23 tires. My last road bike (the blue one that I took the little overnighter on) had 700 x 42.
Well, I seem to have finally reached a limit - oh, not my limit! It seems that on the old steel frames I like to ride, my 700x42 are about the upper limit, size-wise.
So, when my son started trying to get me back on a bike so I could go gravel-grinding & adventure-riding with him, I eschewed 700c tires. Yup, I decided I wanted some truly FAT tires. So, I bought a Mountain Bike with the intent of turning it into an All-arounder. I suppose I could have sought out a Cross-over bike like the Bridgestone XO-1, but do you even realize what those puppies (still) cost? Never mind the fact that they are all being hoarded. Anyway, to make a long story short, I found a Bridgestone MB-3 and snapped it up.
Where was I? Oh yeah, chubbies - I mean fat tires.
One of the greatest things about off-road bikes is the room they have for great big tires. I started looking for something that would roll well on pavement, have a lot of grip and still tolerate gravel roads. SO a true slick was probably out. Likewise those "City" tires that have slickish tread that's reall thick (adding to the weight).
These new Continental Contact Speed 26 x 2.0 tires are GRRRRR-IPPY. They feel a lot like tubulars. Smooooth.
Thursday
I'm back!
Well, at least I'm on my way back.
Several years, health challenges, age...
Anyway, after a period of being "cycle-less", this is my new whip:
Yes, I know it's old. Hell, I'm old. In the 80s, Bridgestone was quite an innovator. Grant Peterson was spec'ing and marketing the line. They were "insider hip". Bike industry folk knew they were hip. Insiders with experience who were the thoughtful types. People who didn't care about the current fashion trends.
But the public? Apparently they didn't get it, unfortunately.
Japan's lugged-steel frame-building capabilities were at an all-time high. Their work was the equal of anyone's. And, In case you didn't know: Lugged Steel Bicycle Frames are superior to every other frame technology. They last longer, they're repairable, and they look better. And Bridgestone's Japanese-built bikes of the 80's were among the very best around. Thier upper 2 or 3 models worked as well as custom, handbuilt bikes. Bridgestone's XO, RB and even some of their MB series were highly respected and sought after. Here's what the specs of the MB-3 looked like.
This pic of a 1986 Stumpy is exactly like my old one, except for the tires and my custom one-piece Landshark stem/handlebar. Damn, I loved that bike!
This "new" Bridgestone MB-3 is uncannily similar to my old Stumpy. I guess this Old Dog is in a cycle rut, but at least it's a comfy one.
Several years, health challenges, age...
Anyway, after a period of being "cycle-less", this is my new whip:
 | |
| 1988 MB-3 |
1988 Bridgestone MB-3!
But the public? Apparently they didn't get it, unfortunately.
Japan's lugged-steel frame-building capabilities were at an all-time high. Their work was the equal of anyone's. And, In case you didn't know: Lugged Steel Bicycle Frames are superior to every other frame technology. They last longer, they're repairable, and they look better. And Bridgestone's Japanese-built bikes of the 80's were among the very best around. Thier upper 2 or 3 models worked as well as custom, handbuilt bikes. Bridgestone's XO, RB and even some of their MB series were highly respected and sought after. Here's what the specs of the MB-3 looked like.
- Ishiwata Triple-Butted Chro-Mo frame. Not quite Tange Prestige, but good, lively, strong construction.
- Unicrown Fork. Tig-welded crown, lots of clearance and strength.
- Deore-XT gruppo. The "full gruppo" - Derailleurs, Shifters, Brakes, Cranks, even Hubs.
- Top-mount shifters. My personal fave.
- Ritchey stem, Nitto bar. As good as any.
- New cables
- New Continental Contact Speed file-tread tires - check! (WOW, grippy!)
- New grips - check!
- Overhaul all bearings
- Brake pads
- Saddle-bag & pump holder
- Water Bottle cages
- Cut-down handlebar
- Saddle - check!
- Pedals - check!
- Brake levers - check!
- New handlebars- Porteur? North Road? Dirt Drops? (The whole handlebar thing deserves a post of it's own)
- Brooks saddle (B-17 or Cambium C-17 or C-19) No better saddle to be had!
- Front rack - Randonneur or possibly even a porter (have to research what the front Trail dimension is)
- Front bag - appropriate to the bike's geometry
- Frame bag
- Rear rack - for a bag & Panniers
- Panniers
- More tires!
- Lightweight tubes
This pic of a 1986 Stumpy is exactly like my old one, except for the tires and my custom one-piece Landshark stem/handlebar. Damn, I loved that bike!
This "new" Bridgestone MB-3 is uncannily similar to my old Stumpy. I guess this Old Dog is in a cycle rut, but at least it's a comfy one.
Monday
The Ride - 24O
30-some years ago, I was an avid cyclist. An avid Urban Cyclist and Commuter. Although I rode about 12,000 miles a year, 75-mile distances were pretty much my max for a single-day ride. I could go at a
decent pace, but that was my limit. I realize now that some of
the issue for me at the time was hydration and fuel.
Now, I'm taking baby steps again as a cyclist, recovering from a minor injury and striving to regain some small measure of fitness.
A couple of months ago Nick emailed me to suggest we go on an overnight camping trip sometime soon. The earliest opportunity we could work out turned out to be the weekend of June 16-17. As I said, I never did extended distance rides of more than about 75 miles, and I've never gone bike camping, so I was looking forward to this as a new adventure. I've read what Grant Peterson has written about his 'S24O' getaways, and we were thinking of that sort of trip for this weekend. Initially, I planned a rugged, mostly off-road route (we took road-bikes for this trip) with just over 7000 feet of elevation gain. The first day, that is! As the time to ride drew closer and my injured knee continued to keep me off the bike, I began to scale my plans back. Finally we settled on a shorter, easier route that varied the terrain and scenery as much as could be managed within an 85-mile Urban/Rural loop.
I wanted to use my old SR road bike (the only geared bike I had at the time) and I thought our route should cover as many different areas of San Diego as we could manage within that range.
We tackled the climbing portion of the route first thing on Saturday - 1000 feet elevation gain to Jamul all in one chunk, over about 19km. We had held off our departure until just past noon, intending to arrive at our overnight stop before dark.
Turning south, we began the descent to Otay Lakes over Proctor Valley Road.
Once we had gone a short distance on Proctor Valley Road, it became an unpaved surface, and passed through some relatively wild areas before finishing the descent to Upper Otay Lake. The road surface was unfortunately very rough - wash-board, in fact - from heavy and high-speed vehicular traffic. It's a shame the surface was so abused, because the scenery out there was really pretty nice - very open and uninterrupted. But descending this road was a literal handful, so we had to focus on the road.
Finally reaching smoother terrain, we went from Fire Road to Single track closely tracing the Western shoreline of Upper Otay Lake, then emerging onto wider vehicular road, and stopping for a photo at the dam separating the two lakes.
Nick lead us down to Otay Lakes Road, unfortunately narrow (no bike lane at all!) and frequently traveled by cars, truck, RVs, etc., which we had avoided as much as possible for just those reasons. A short Westerly jog quickly connected us to Wueste Road. This is a fine little bike-friendly road, super smooth (what a nice break) that goes by the old Olympic Training Center and the west shore of Otay Lake.
Back to dirt just north of the Water Treatment Plant, we carefully picked our way down to the floor of a the gorge where Otay River runs (according to the map, anyway). We stayed in the gorge on good dirt roads under the 125 freeway, and eventually struck a paved road just East of Soak City Water Park. Continuing West past Soak City, our route connected us to Palm, then Beyer, and finally Coronado Ave., which we rode all the way to the Pacific Ocean. I'll admit I was pretty beat by this time. In fact, I was riding in survival mode, managing a few sustained efforts interspersed with near exhaustion. Nick was patient and didn't mind my yo-yoing. We backtracked a couple of blocks to a friendly neighborhood dive for a Cerveza and some Mexican food to restore our (my) resolve, then headed North up the Silver Strand, stopping shortly before dusk near Silver Strand State Park.
Although outside the park, there are nice picnic facilities (with decent restrooms and running water) on the East side of the penninsula. Unfortunately, camping isn't permitted at this facility, so we rested a while, watched the sunset and freshened up before pushing on to find a place to sleep.
I was dog-tired. It had been a really long day for me, especially those last few westbound miles before dinner. I'm sure Nick thought he'd need to tow me the last little way, but I managed it - barely - under my own power. Too much couch, not enough bicycle had taken their toll!
We woke in the morning to a curious sunrise - no sooner had the sun cleared the mountains East of Downtown than it started creeping above the blanket of inversion layer covering the bay and West San Diego County, so we only had a few minutes of full-strength sun before the usual coastal morning weather resumed. I enjoyed the show, frankly.
We breakfasted at Clayton's Coffee Shop in Coronado (Huevos Rancheros for me - noticing a pattern?). Clayton's is my favorite place in Coronado - it apparently hasn't been re-decorated since the '40s. No, I don't mean it was MADE to look that way, like, say a Ruby's... I mean it has been there since then, unchanged! Still serves good food, promptly, with a smile, and for a very modest price. Look them up. Drive over the bridge JUST to eat there - it's worth it.
Of course, bicycles can't be on the bridge, so we rode to the Ferry landing (got there a bit early and had to hover a while), and ended up at the 5th avenue landing - a very curious place for a ferry landing - right in there among multi-zillion dollar yachts that were such an ostentatious display of wealth and excess... well, it was simply a-m-a-z-i-n-g.
We kept to the bike path west along Harbor Drive, past the Airport and into Point Loma. Crossing up to Catalina, I decided this was the Achile's Heel of the ride. I must find a better connection to Catalina, Talbot is a WALL. Next time, I'll use Chatsworth, I guess...
We had decided to ride to Cabrillo National Monument. The road out there is really nice, traffic courteous, lots of cyclists around.
Nick was struck by Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery on the South side of the road. Somber.
As the sun broke through, we doubled back at the entrance to Cabrillo National Park, and I was grateful that most of the climbing was now over. Catalina is a fine ride in either direction, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. We worked our way carefully through OB, finally crossed to Bacon St., and then up to Robb Field. Nick wanted to check the Skate Park there, because a couple of his buddies were supposed to be there. We lucked out - they hadn't left (barely) yet, and Nick got to say 'hey'.
Back on the bike trail Eastbound to Pacific Highway, then South through Old Town and up Washington Street to University, then through Hillcrest. We were again impressed by the 'Tour de San Diego' nature of the ride. We'd covered a lot of varied terrain, diverse roadway and culture on this route, for sure. And our timing was good, it was just past noon and shady on the patio of Mama Testa. An order of Tres Cochinitos and a Cerveza for me!
After lunch, I had renewed mental resolve, but fatigue had a firm grip on my legs. It was a slow ride the last 10 miles home to La Mesa, but this has been a fun trip. Nick has got me hooked on this - I look forward to more overnight trips this summer.
Lessons learned:
Now, I'm taking baby steps again as a cyclist, recovering from a minor injury and striving to regain some small measure of fitness.
A couple of months ago Nick emailed me to suggest we go on an overnight camping trip sometime soon. The earliest opportunity we could work out turned out to be the weekend of June 16-17. As I said, I never did extended distance rides of more than about 75 miles, and I've never gone bike camping, so I was looking forward to this as a new adventure. I've read what Grant Peterson has written about his 'S24O' getaways, and we were thinking of that sort of trip for this weekend. Initially, I planned a rugged, mostly off-road route (we took road-bikes for this trip) with just over 7000 feet of elevation gain. The first day, that is! As the time to ride drew closer and my injured knee continued to keep me off the bike, I began to scale my plans back. Finally we settled on a shorter, easier route that varied the terrain and scenery as much as could be managed within an 85-mile Urban/Rural loop.
I wanted to use my old SR road bike (the only geared bike I had at the time) and I thought our route should cover as many different areas of San Diego as we could manage within that range.
 |
| Loaded for travel. |
 |
| Army Surplus pack as Handlebar Bag |
 |
| I fitted my biggest (40-622) and heaviest tires for the trip. |
We tackled the climbing portion of the route first thing on Saturday - 1000 feet elevation gain to Jamul all in one chunk, over about 19km. We had held off our departure until just past noon, intending to arrive at our overnight stop before dark.
Turning south, we began the descent to Otay Lakes over Proctor Valley Road.
Finally reaching smoother terrain, we went from Fire Road to Single track closely tracing the Western shoreline of Upper Otay Lake, then emerging onto wider vehicular road, and stopping for a photo at the dam separating the two lakes.
Nick lead us down to Otay Lakes Road, unfortunately narrow (no bike lane at all!) and frequently traveled by cars, truck, RVs, etc., which we had avoided as much as possible for just those reasons. A short Westerly jog quickly connected us to Wueste Road. This is a fine little bike-friendly road, super smooth (what a nice break) that goes by the old Olympic Training Center and the west shore of Otay Lake.
Back to dirt just north of the Water Treatment Plant, we carefully picked our way down to the floor of a the gorge where Otay River runs (according to the map, anyway). We stayed in the gorge on good dirt roads under the 125 freeway, and eventually struck a paved road just East of Soak City Water Park. Continuing West past Soak City, our route connected us to Palm, then Beyer, and finally Coronado Ave., which we rode all the way to the Pacific Ocean. I'll admit I was pretty beat by this time. In fact, I was riding in survival mode, managing a few sustained efforts interspersed with near exhaustion. Nick was patient and didn't mind my yo-yoing. We backtracked a couple of blocks to a friendly neighborhood dive for a Cerveza and some Mexican food to restore our (my) resolve, then headed North up the Silver Strand, stopping shortly before dusk near Silver Strand State Park.
I was dog-tired. It had been a really long day for me, especially those last few westbound miles before dinner. I'm sure Nick thought he'd need to tow me the last little way, but I managed it - barely - under my own power. Too much couch, not enough bicycle had taken their toll!
We woke in the morning to a curious sunrise - no sooner had the sun cleared the mountains East of Downtown than it started creeping above the blanket of inversion layer covering the bay and West San Diego County, so we only had a few minutes of full-strength sun before the usual coastal morning weather resumed. I enjoyed the show, frankly.
We breakfasted at Clayton's Coffee Shop in Coronado (Huevos Rancheros for me - noticing a pattern?). Clayton's is my favorite place in Coronado - it apparently hasn't been re-decorated since the '40s. No, I don't mean it was MADE to look that way, like, say a Ruby's... I mean it has been there since then, unchanged! Still serves good food, promptly, with a smile, and for a very modest price. Look them up. Drive over the bridge JUST to eat there - it's worth it.
Of course, bicycles can't be on the bridge, so we rode to the Ferry landing (got there a bit early and had to hover a while), and ended up at the 5th avenue landing - a very curious place for a ferry landing - right in there among multi-zillion dollar yachts that were such an ostentatious display of wealth and excess... well, it was simply a-m-a-z-i-n-g.
We kept to the bike path west along Harbor Drive, past the Airport and into Point Loma. Crossing up to Catalina, I decided this was the Achile's Heel of the ride. I must find a better connection to Catalina, Talbot is a WALL. Next time, I'll use Chatsworth, I guess...
We had decided to ride to Cabrillo National Monument. The road out there is really nice, traffic courteous, lots of cyclists around.
Nick was struck by Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery on the South side of the road. Somber.
As the sun broke through, we doubled back at the entrance to Cabrillo National Park, and I was grateful that most of the climbing was now over. Catalina is a fine ride in either direction, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. We worked our way carefully through OB, finally crossed to Bacon St., and then up to Robb Field. Nick wanted to check the Skate Park there, because a couple of his buddies were supposed to be there. We lucked out - they hadn't left (barely) yet, and Nick got to say 'hey'.
Back on the bike trail Eastbound to Pacific Highway, then South through Old Town and up Washington Street to University, then through Hillcrest. We were again impressed by the 'Tour de San Diego' nature of the ride. We'd covered a lot of varied terrain, diverse roadway and culture on this route, for sure. And our timing was good, it was just past noon and shady on the patio of Mama Testa. An order of Tres Cochinitos and a Cerveza for me!
Lessons learned:
- My Brooks B-17 Standard saddle was amazingly comfortable, in spite of my lack of saddle-time over the last few months and the the relatively short time I've owned it (less than 500 miles). Nick had the same saddle on his Surly and has had no complaints in a month of daily commuting.
- We over-packed, and my bike doesn't seem to like a bag on the bars (shimmy-shimmy). Next Time I'll pack lighter, and have a rear rack (I don't like the look of them, but ya gotta go with what works, right?).
- Nutrition - next time I will gobble down energy-packs more frequently, and I'll be in better condition!
- Attitude - My nephew and riding buddy Nick is one of those rare folks with a truly adventuresome spirit. His positive attitude made this trip a joy when it could have gone bad (I was nowhere near ready physically, for this trip). He didn't make me feel like I was slowing us down or a drag on the ride (although I was). He treated me as a peer. Thanks, Nick - you've set the tone for me - I'll be doing more of these rides and I'll fulfill my promise to ride much stronger the next time we do this - maybe up in your neighborhood, next time?
Saturday
Friday
Wednesday
Monday
Not quite
I'd intended to try to hit a hundred miles over the New Year weekend, but fell a bit short.
The weather here has been incredible - mid 60's to low 80's (depending on whether you're at the beach or inland) every day - just our normal, amazing Southern California winter weather, thank you!
Anyway, I got out late on Saturday, so opted for a short 10-mile blast to the lake and back. Tried to keep it as intense as possible, but the lake was super crowded - definitely not the place for a hot lap. It was already cooling and pre-dusk when I got back, so I decided to try to make it up on Sunday and Monday.
I got out late again Sunday and rode the 25-mile out-and-back to Adams and Park, initially intending to take a turn through downtown or maybe even Ocean Beach. When I got down to around 30th St., I was a little surprised at how much cooler and breezier it was (compared to home). Still, it was pleasant, but I decided to call Park my turnaround point, and resolved to go early and long on Monday.
When I left the house this morning, Monday at 9:30, it was just barely cool enough for the sweater I was wearing, but I had a hunch I might need it later, so I was carrying bungee cords in case I had to take it off, but hedging against cooler weather. I was only a block away from the house when I decided to turn back - that bottom bracket clunk was annoying and I decided I didn't want to fret about it on a long ride (more about the clunk in a later post). Too bad, I was really looking forward to riding the Blue bike - it felt so light and lively!
After transferring the water bottle and saddlebag to the single-speed Relic, I was on my way, and planning to do a 100K loop up to Del Mar, over the Hwy 56 bike trail and home - an ambitious ride for an old fart on a single-speed, but I've been riding a bit stronger lately, so I decided to go for it. I could always use public transportation for my bail-out plan, right?
I shed the sweater on the first climb, only 2 miles from home. It was gloriously warm and sunny, and looked like it would be a great ride day. Once I got down into the San Diego River Valley, I was glad I'd opted for the sweater and put it back on after getting to Mission Bay Park. The ride from the bay up the coast was fine, and I even felt pretty strong going up Gilman, chatting with a fellow cyclist, staying in the saddle about 3/4 of the way up, finally dismounting to walk it only up the last 70 yards or so, then re-mounting as soon as it leveled a bit, then up through the UCSD campus and over to Torrey Pines Rd. Coming down Torrey Pines grade, I was almost wishing I'd had something warmer than the sweater, but it proved to be enough once I started pedaling again.
The bike path next to Hwy 56 is really nice - rolling, clean, smooth, and quite scenic in spots. I wanted to take pictures for this post, but didn't want to fuss with digging in the saddlebag to get my phone.
Turning south on Black Mountain Road saw me doing more hike-a-bike, mostly because I was feeling a little gassed and my right knee was getting sore. Once I made it to Mira Mar road, the going was pretty easy, mostly downhill through Kearney Mesa and down to the Stadium. I was dreading the climb up to La Mesa, certain I'd be doing a lot of walking on my (now very tender) knee, so I opted for the bail-out, taking the trolley from the Stadium to within 1-1/2 miles of home.
It was a fine way to start the year, and sets a good benchmark (about 90 miles) for me to surpass. I intend to work up to 100-mile weekends in the spring (on a geared bike), and hopefully 100-mile days shortly after that, and perhaps even 200K brevets before year-end.
The weather here has been incredible - mid 60's to low 80's (depending on whether you're at the beach or inland) every day - just our normal, amazing Southern California winter weather, thank you!
Anyway, I got out late on Saturday, so opted for a short 10-mile blast to the lake and back. Tried to keep it as intense as possible, but the lake was super crowded - definitely not the place for a hot lap. It was already cooling and pre-dusk when I got back, so I decided to try to make it up on Sunday and Monday.
I got out late again Sunday and rode the 25-mile out-and-back to Adams and Park, initially intending to take a turn through downtown or maybe even Ocean Beach. When I got down to around 30th St., I was a little surprised at how much cooler and breezier it was (compared to home). Still, it was pleasant, but I decided to call Park my turnaround point, and resolved to go early and long on Monday.
When I left the house this morning, Monday at 9:30, it was just barely cool enough for the sweater I was wearing, but I had a hunch I might need it later, so I was carrying bungee cords in case I had to take it off, but hedging against cooler weather. I was only a block away from the house when I decided to turn back - that bottom bracket clunk was annoying and I decided I didn't want to fret about it on a long ride (more about the clunk in a later post). Too bad, I was really looking forward to riding the Blue bike - it felt so light and lively!
After transferring the water bottle and saddlebag to the single-speed Relic, I was on my way, and planning to do a 100K loop up to Del Mar, over the Hwy 56 bike trail and home - an ambitious ride for an old fart on a single-speed, but I've been riding a bit stronger lately, so I decided to go for it. I could always use public transportation for my bail-out plan, right?
I shed the sweater on the first climb, only 2 miles from home. It was gloriously warm and sunny, and looked like it would be a great ride day. Once I got down into the San Diego River Valley, I was glad I'd opted for the sweater and put it back on after getting to Mission Bay Park. The ride from the bay up the coast was fine, and I even felt pretty strong going up Gilman, chatting with a fellow cyclist, staying in the saddle about 3/4 of the way up, finally dismounting to walk it only up the last 70 yards or so, then re-mounting as soon as it leveled a bit, then up through the UCSD campus and over to Torrey Pines Rd. Coming down Torrey Pines grade, I was almost wishing I'd had something warmer than the sweater, but it proved to be enough once I started pedaling again.
The bike path next to Hwy 56 is really nice - rolling, clean, smooth, and quite scenic in spots. I wanted to take pictures for this post, but didn't want to fuss with digging in the saddlebag to get my phone.
Turning south on Black Mountain Road saw me doing more hike-a-bike, mostly because I was feeling a little gassed and my right knee was getting sore. Once I made it to Mira Mar road, the going was pretty easy, mostly downhill through Kearney Mesa and down to the Stadium. I was dreading the climb up to La Mesa, certain I'd be doing a lot of walking on my (now very tender) knee, so I opted for the bail-out, taking the trolley from the Stadium to within 1-1/2 miles of home.
It was a fine way to start the year, and sets a good benchmark (about 90 miles) for me to surpass. I intend to work up to 100-mile weekends in the spring (on a geared bike), and hopefully 100-mile days shortly after that, and perhaps even 200K brevets before year-end.
Why NOT to wear a helmet
Or at least why NOT to try to convince everyone ELSE to wear one.
Mikael-Colville Anderson feels we live in a culture of fear that scares people away from seeing the bike as a rational and safe means of transportation by relying heavily on promoting helmet usage. He pulls from scientific studies and various polls that reference both the risks and rewards of cycling as well as other activities, such as driving and walking. Ultimately, he feels cycling gets the short end of the stick as an activity that is promoted as far more dangerous than it actually is.
I agree!
Click HERE for the whole story.
Mikael-Colville Anderson feels we live in a culture of fear that scares people away from seeing the bike as a rational and safe means of transportation by relying heavily on promoting helmet usage. He pulls from scientific studies and various polls that reference both the risks and rewards of cycling as well as other activities, such as driving and walking. Ultimately, he feels cycling gets the short end of the stick as an activity that is promoted as far more dangerous than it actually is.
I agree!
Click HERE for the whole story.
Saturday
Bike Town
Velo Cult, one of the coolest bike shops I've ever seen is leaving San Diego in favor of Portland, Oregon.
Yes, you read it right - the store is changing their city of residence from San Diego to Portland. A pretty radical move, on the face of it. Moreover, they're taking the whole staff (4 employees) with them. (Insert tasteless "kool-aid" joke here...)
In some ways, I sympathise with their decision. The owners are new parents, cycling advocates and social activists; I'm imagine that one reason for the decision could be to assure that their child(ren) is/are raised in the most bike-positive environment possible, and arguably, in the US, that place is (from all reports) Portland.
As a happy "cycling-positive" resident of San Diego, I have been encouraged by the social awareness that Velo Cult seemed to represent. There's a program started by VC that fosters bike commuting by encouraging area retailers to offer discounts to customers that arrive by bike. There's a San Diego Bike Union that fosters cycling for transportation. There are a few neighborhoods in San Diego that seem to be quite bike friendly. And of course our climate is a huge plus.
But San Diego is primarily defined culturally by it's lack of being a 'this-' or 'that-' town. We're a town of transplants, vagabonds, students and generally a feel-good do-little sort of town.
Geographically, we're a large, spread-out suburban sprawl of beaches and canyons navigated by serpentine, narrow roads or high-speed freeways. And San Diego's freeway traffic is becoming legendary - some of the fastest average speeds in the US (subjectively about 85MPH average speed) are found on our freeways. When car drivers leave a freeway where they've been going that fast, their psychological inertia seems to push them to drive 20MPH over the surface street posted limits, too. And the impatient, mean-spirited Los Angeles driving style is migrating south to San Diego as well.
Everyone here seems to drive. Even though we've been upgrading our public transportation, putting in light rail systems all over the county, the main effect of those seems to be enabling our homeless population more mobility. Most of the day sees the 'Trolley' (as it's called) running far below capacity. About the only time it's full is when the Padres are playing a Home game.
I wouldn't want to live anywhere else (although the theoretical idea of an American Copenhagen or Amsterdam is appealing). I understand why a Cycling-centric business would prefer to thrive in a Cycling-centric community.
Sure seems as though their move is going to set San Diego back a few steps on the path to becoming the cycling community I wish we were.
Farewell, Velo Cult. I'll be watching from here, hoping you prosper and flourish in your new home.
Yes, you read it right - the store is changing their city of residence from San Diego to Portland. A pretty radical move, on the face of it. Moreover, they're taking the whole staff (4 employees) with them. (Insert tasteless "kool-aid" joke here...)
In some ways, I sympathise with their decision. The owners are new parents, cycling advocates and social activists; I'm imagine that one reason for the decision could be to assure that their child(ren) is/are raised in the most bike-positive environment possible, and arguably, in the US, that place is (from all reports) Portland.
As a happy "cycling-positive" resident of San Diego, I have been encouraged by the social awareness that Velo Cult seemed to represent. There's a program started by VC that fosters bike commuting by encouraging area retailers to offer discounts to customers that arrive by bike. There's a San Diego Bike Union that fosters cycling for transportation. There are a few neighborhoods in San Diego that seem to be quite bike friendly. And of course our climate is a huge plus.
But San Diego is primarily defined culturally by it's lack of being a 'this-' or 'that-' town. We're a town of transplants, vagabonds, students and generally a feel-good do-little sort of town.
Geographically, we're a large, spread-out suburban sprawl of beaches and canyons navigated by serpentine, narrow roads or high-speed freeways. And San Diego's freeway traffic is becoming legendary - some of the fastest average speeds in the US (subjectively about 85MPH average speed) are found on our freeways. When car drivers leave a freeway where they've been going that fast, their psychological inertia seems to push them to drive 20MPH over the surface street posted limits, too. And the impatient, mean-spirited Los Angeles driving style is migrating south to San Diego as well.
Everyone here seems to drive. Even though we've been upgrading our public transportation, putting in light rail systems all over the county, the main effect of those seems to be enabling our homeless population more mobility. Most of the day sees the 'Trolley' (as it's called) running far below capacity. About the only time it's full is when the Padres are playing a Home game.
I wouldn't want to live anywhere else (although the theoretical idea of an American Copenhagen or Amsterdam is appealing). I understand why a Cycling-centric business would prefer to thrive in a Cycling-centric community.
Sure seems as though their move is going to set San Diego back a few steps on the path to becoming the cycling community I wish we were.
Farewell, Velo Cult. I'll be watching from here, hoping you prosper and flourish in your new home.
Thursday
Rough-Stuff Cycling
I found this on the Veterans Cycling Club - New England Section blog. quote:
From a letter by Bill Paul, founder of the Rough Stuff Fellowship, to the Rough Stuff Journal, vol. 13 no. 6, 1968:
Having been indulging in this form of escapade since 1921 I am ready to admit that many people will have many opinions, and to simplify the answer to a simple question my answer is - any way, road, track or path which is free from modern tar-macadam! When I first started it was known as pass-storming, for fifty years ago the Llanberis, Honister and similar road passes were all rough and loose metal [gravel] thrown down and spread across. Motor cars were few then and seldom passed along these routes. Then routes along drove roads and sheep tracks were sought out and when Wayfarer publicized, through article-writing and public lecture, his crossing of the Nant Rhyd Wilem that really started something we know today as "rough stuff"....
On the bicycle itself, does anyone really want a special one? I don't. Any bicycle that you can propel, push, drag, lift or carry, will do. I like something handy and reasonably light and not over done with too many mechanical "aids". Mine is a Parkes Autograph lightweight with Dunlop lightweight high pressure rims, fitted with a speed tyre and a four-speed medium S.A. gear - and what I can't do on or with that I'll leave alone. I have quite a tally of routes achieved, including the crossing of Black Sail with my wife - and a tandem!
And more background, this from The Bicycle, 1954:
The Bicycle October 27, 1954
'WHO WANTS TO JOIN A ROUGH-STUFF FELLOWSHIP'?
"Winova's" article "Are the rough ways losing their popularity?" (The Bicycle 13/10/54), in which she describes some of her rough-stuff interludes in Scotland, pleased me because, like her, I have always been a searcher of the remote, wild and more desolate country which is to be seen "off the beaten track" [sic]. Like her, I wonder if the modern lightweight, with it's Continental this and super that, prompts the rider to keep on the billiard-table surfaces of modern tarmac.
Nevertheless, I believe there are still a small select circle who love the rough and high ways amongst the mountains of Wales, the Lakes and Scotland.
What interested me particularly was "Winova's" reference to the matter of badges for the crossing of some of the tougher, rougher ways. This prompts me to suggest the formation of a fellowship of such rough-stuff enthusiasts.
A badge might be designed in due course and an annual meeting at some prearranged rendexvous where experiences could be exchanged. There would be have to be a qualification for membership, of course, and I believe adistinguished and worthy president could be prevailed upon to accept the position.
Who, then, would care to become a member of "The Rough-Stuff Fellowship"?
Liverpool. W.H. Paul
The Bicycle November 17, 1954
SUPPORT FOR ROUGH-STUFF FELLOWSHIP
May I say how much I am in favor with the admirable suggestion of W.H. Paul concerning a "Rough Stuff Fellowship". For many years now I have included in every ride, wherever possible some miles of "green lanes" of cross-country work. The sense of adventure and interest to be found in traversing country without signposts and metal [gravel] highway is infinite.
To stand on the summit of a mountain crossing in wild lonliness summons up all the joy of sheer achievement. In several hundreds of miles of diverse surfaces, across fields, bogs, boulders, and the like, my machine has yet to suffer dammage of any kind. Admittedly the going can be rough, but the reward far outweighs the effort and satidfactionn is the greater.
Judging by the kindred spirits encountered in my own travels, such a fellowship as proposed by Mr. Paul would be extremely exclusive. Yes, by all means let us have a chance to exchange reminisces; they would, I am sure, prove most revealing, and I personally would give every support to such a venture.
Oxford. K.E. Walker
Congratulations to W.H. Paul for his suggestion regarding the formation of a "Rough Stuff Fellowship". I feel that this aspect of cycling has been much neglected, because of the fact that it is too slow for the majority of modern club-folk.
I am essentially interested in racing, but I cannot help feeling that too little attention is paid to the much more satisfyling pursuit of touring, especially the great thrill one experiences when one has conquered one of the "rough and high ways".
This proposed fellowship must thus remain difficult to enter, in order to add incentive to those who wish to become members. I hope I shall be among the first.
Leeds University C. C. Michael Bamlett
There is an organization today that still pursues this sort of adventure: the Rough Riders
From a letter by Bill Paul, founder of the Rough Stuff Fellowship, to the Rough Stuff Journal, vol. 13 no. 6, 1968:
Having been indulging in this form of escapade since 1921 I am ready to admit that many people will have many opinions, and to simplify the answer to a simple question my answer is - any way, road, track or path which is free from modern tar-macadam! When I first started it was known as pass-storming, for fifty years ago the Llanberis, Honister and similar road passes were all rough and loose metal [gravel] thrown down and spread across. Motor cars were few then and seldom passed along these routes. Then routes along drove roads and sheep tracks were sought out and when Wayfarer publicized, through article-writing and public lecture, his crossing of the Nant Rhyd Wilem that really started something we know today as "rough stuff"....
On the bicycle itself, does anyone really want a special one? I don't. Any bicycle that you can propel, push, drag, lift or carry, will do. I like something handy and reasonably light and not over done with too many mechanical "aids". Mine is a Parkes Autograph lightweight with Dunlop lightweight high pressure rims, fitted with a speed tyre and a four-speed medium S.A. gear - and what I can't do on or with that I'll leave alone. I have quite a tally of routes achieved, including the crossing of Black Sail with my wife - and a tandem!
 |
| The Bicycle, 1954 |
The Bicycle October 27, 1954
'WHO WANTS TO JOIN A ROUGH-STUFF FELLOWSHIP'?
"Winova's" article "Are the rough ways losing their popularity?" (The Bicycle 13/10/54), in which she describes some of her rough-stuff interludes in Scotland, pleased me because, like her, I have always been a searcher of the remote, wild and more desolate country which is to be seen "off the beaten track" [sic]. Like her, I wonder if the modern lightweight, with it's Continental this and super that, prompts the rider to keep on the billiard-table surfaces of modern tarmac.
Nevertheless, I believe there are still a small select circle who love the rough and high ways amongst the mountains of Wales, the Lakes and Scotland.
What interested me particularly was "Winova's" reference to the matter of badges for the crossing of some of the tougher, rougher ways. This prompts me to suggest the formation of a fellowship of such rough-stuff enthusiasts.
A badge might be designed in due course and an annual meeting at some prearranged rendexvous where experiences could be exchanged. There would be have to be a qualification for membership, of course, and I believe adistinguished and worthy president could be prevailed upon to accept the position.
Who, then, would care to become a member of "The Rough-Stuff Fellowship"?
Liverpool. W.H. Paul
The Bicycle November 17, 1954
SUPPORT FOR ROUGH-STUFF FELLOWSHIP
May I say how much I am in favor with the admirable suggestion of W.H. Paul concerning a "Rough Stuff Fellowship". For many years now I have included in every ride, wherever possible some miles of "green lanes" of cross-country work. The sense of adventure and interest to be found in traversing country without signposts and metal [gravel] highway is infinite.
To stand on the summit of a mountain crossing in wild lonliness summons up all the joy of sheer achievement. In several hundreds of miles of diverse surfaces, across fields, bogs, boulders, and the like, my machine has yet to suffer dammage of any kind. Admittedly the going can be rough, but the reward far outweighs the effort and satidfactionn is the greater.
Judging by the kindred spirits encountered in my own travels, such a fellowship as proposed by Mr. Paul would be extremely exclusive. Yes, by all means let us have a chance to exchange reminisces; they would, I am sure, prove most revealing, and I personally would give every support to such a venture.
Oxford. K.E. Walker
 |
| I hope they weren't all forced to share the one cycle! |
Congratulations to W.H. Paul for his suggestion regarding the formation of a "Rough Stuff Fellowship". I feel that this aspect of cycling has been much neglected, because of the fact that it is too slow for the majority of modern club-folk.
I am essentially interested in racing, but I cannot help feeling that too little attention is paid to the much more satisfyling pursuit of touring, especially the great thrill one experiences when one has conquered one of the "rough and high ways".
This proposed fellowship must thus remain difficult to enter, in order to add incentive to those who wish to become members. I hope I shall be among the first.
Leeds University C. C. Michael Bamlett
There is an organization today that still pursues this sort of adventure: the Rough Riders
Wednesday
New Maker Added
Just added a new "maker" to the link list over on the left. Normally I don't post about every link I add, but I want to bring Worksman cycles to your attention.
They manufacture a good variety of cargo bikes, mobility trikes, cruisers, commuters, and even retro boneshakers. Some very interesting and very useful bikes - and these are not boutique prices! In fact, for what you'd pay for a cargo bike, you could easily recoup your investment in a very short time.
They don't make it easy to capture photos of their bikes, so click through and have a browse.
They manufacture a good variety of cargo bikes, mobility trikes, cruisers, commuters, and even retro boneshakers. Some very interesting and very useful bikes - and these are not boutique prices! In fact, for what you'd pay for a cargo bike, you could easily recoup your investment in a very short time.
They don't make it easy to capture photos of their bikes, so click through and have a browse.
Sunday
Sufferfaces
This is what pro bike racing is all about - suffering.
I hold these athletes in the highest regard.
Stolen from Le Grimpeur by way of Big Ring
Wednesday
Tuesday
Drillium
So much 'drillium' on this bike, it looks as though it's made of LACE. But he sure is getting after it...
Image from Big Ring Riding
He is a Messenger Boy
From Cyclicious
American photographer and historian Lewis Hine used his camera as a tool for social reform, shooting thousands of photos of working children to document their hardship and abuse between 1908 and 1924.
Children as young as ten worked as bicycle messengers in several cities. Hine’s concern for these boys seems to be their long working hours and their interaction with clients in the red light districts of the day. “The Reservation” referenced in some of the descriptions below was the early 20th Century colloquialism for the red light district.
Click through for the post
American photographer and historian Lewis Hine used his camera as a tool for social reform, shooting thousands of photos of working children to document their hardship and abuse between 1908 and 1924.
Children as young as ten worked as bicycle messengers in several cities. Hine’s concern for these boys seems to be their long working hours and their interaction with clients in the red light districts of the day. “The Reservation” referenced in some of the descriptions below was the early 20th Century colloquialism for the red light district.
He is a messenger boy. During the day messengers go to all parts of the city. He is a go between. As errand boys, they carry messages, buy meats, liquors and dope for prostitutes. Often guide men to these haunts. He is a victim. His work gives him by personal contact, an intimate acquaintance with vice and crime, starts him down hill. What does your state permit?
Click through for the post
10 useful tips for car drivers
Dave Moulton was a bike builder of great notoriety in the '80s and maintains a very outspoken Bike Blog today. Click through for the full post.
Just a sample:
Just a sample:
9. If a cyclist is riding in the middle of the lane, it could be because he will not ride within five feet of a parked car. (The door zone.) If you expect cyclists to ride within inches of parked cars, set an example by driving within inches of parked cars.
If more cars did this and removed a few car doors, and grazed a few knuckles as a result, it would help by reminding people to look before opening a car door. At the present time cyclists hitting car doors does not have the same impact.
Thursday
Monday
Big Ring steal
Old-school badness.
Tommy Godwin: beat the ‘year’s mileage’ record by October 1939. And rode on to 75,065 miles for the calendar year. Kept on riding to take the 100,000 mile record in May 1940. Spent a few weeks learning how to walk again, then went off to fight the war.
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