Stab winter for St. Patty.

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I am very ready for winter to be over.  I generally like it.  There are past instances on this blog where I was angry at a lack of winter.  I like wearing sweaters and flannel and cuddling up with the Mrs at night to watch movies, read and sleep.  Cycling when water freezes to your face is exhilarating, if for no other reason, for the looks of amazement you get from other people.  Longjohns are their own unique experience when you have them on under your work pants with nothing under them.
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Maybe it’s barreling downhill for four miles every morning and getting watery eyes from the wind or my being tired of not being able to wear sandals sans socks.  Or of coming home from community meetings at seven or eight in the dark.  Maybe I’m tired of the bleak landscape on my way to work through the Jones Falls Valley and out of my window on University Parkway.  But I’m really ready for spring now.

I haven’t actually gotten tired of winter since 2003, when I lived in Boston and didn’t blog yet.  It was a particularly bad winter, full of blizzards and April snow.  St. Patty’s day that year was 70 degree weather, with students at Boston College sitting around talking in tanktops next to mountains of snow still piled up.  I remember wearing flip-flops and crunching on snow that April and wearing a jacket in May and June a few times.
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There was snow on the ground two years ago for St. Patty’s Day, too, after a January that was so warm that plants were budding the week after New Year’s Day.  I guess it could be worse.  I get to work from home this morning for afternoon meetings and can probably get away with sandals later, if I’m willing to have cold feet, which I am.

I have a fridge full of Irish stout, cabbage, homemade soda bread from the Mrs and Irish music.  What, you haven’t heard the new U2 album yet?  It’s excellent.

Universal weather balancing.

While I refuse to wear special cycling clothes, I do have to watch the weather when I have a four-mile-outside trip to work.  Yesterday, I busted my ass to get to work before the snow and rain started because I didn’t feel like bringing extra clothes with me.  I just made it.  I literally got into my office, turned on my computer, turned around to look out the window and saw snow.  Today, I got in just before the sun came out and starting drying shit off.  Same thing, but sun when I looked out the window after a wet ride to work.  What a balanced Universe!

I watched 4 movies this weekend.

I used to watch a solid 2 films every weekend, when I lived in a boring town in Illinois.  Don’t watch them so regularly these days.  It was good to lounge this weekend, and Mrs. P was sick.  My freakin legs hurt by last night, though, from not moving.  Felt good to cycle in the snow this morning, before it died out.  I’m looking forward to cycling in the snow tomorrow, though I have to work until 9 pm, so it might not be the best idea.

Tuesday sucked after everything awesome.

I had an early meeting. Rode my bike through the snow on the Jones Falls Trail. Got in early and happy as hell. Only almost got doored twice and didn’t really slip around much. It was a fantastic ride.

Watched the Inauguration in my office online alone, which is extremely depressing now that I think of it.

Dropped my bike riding the elevator with my boss on my way out yesterday. Appeared that I only smacked the back of the stem and dinged it a little, and all was well. But it was loud and scared the shit out of me, since I don’t make a habit of dropping my bike.

Went to the Chillage to run some errands for Mrs. P’s birthday (yesterday). Riding up the access drive on Charles Street, going very slowly, I hit some black ice with a backpack full of birthday stuff and a roll of wrapping paper strapped to my back like a sword. More or less stopped and tried to keep myself upright with my left leg, but there was ice there, too. I went down, with my bike on me and with me on my bike. My leg must have knocked the frame pump into the downtube because there’s a gash there in the paint, and Mr. Pump was on the ground. Knocked chain off chainrings but got it back on with a stick I pried off the frozen ground. Shaken up a bit.

Rode to Hampden to pick up a package (new camera). Found out later that it’s broken. So was my printer when I tried to print an Amazon return label. I kicked said printer/scanner. Yelled at it. Still didn’t work. Apparently angry enough to forgot how cause and effect actually work.

Enjoyed wrapping presents at night, though, and having Beamish Stout and pasta. Much better mood. Good enough to keep me awake until 2:00am when I had to get up early.

I learned later that hot pixels are a fact of life, and I know that scratches on a bike you ride everywhere are part of Bike Life (and easily covered up with a sticker). That in fact it’s just stuff/shit anyway, so who cares? Taking photos and riding are what’s important, and nothing’s gonna stop that.

So then I felt better.

Saw Obama.

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I made it to see Obama Saturday. It was amazing.

We bundled up, mounted our bikes and met a co-worker and fellow Nation Service member and walked down. We waited in line for about an hour or an hour and a half and then made it to the metal detectors. Everything went very smoothly, save me having to get wand-ed, even after removing all my metal and AmeriCorps pins. We got some Donna’s hot chocolate and found good spots, maybe a third of the way from the front. Considering that we didn’t get to the event area until nearly noon, I thought that was pretty good. I was mildly afraid that we weren’t going to get in.

At any big public event, a lot of folks are rude and butt in front of one another and hold their cameras up in front of people’s faces, etc. I think this was less widespread that day, or, at least, people weren’t so militant about it. (One note though: owning an SLR does not make you a Photographer and does not mean you can be a jerk. The dudes next to me were screwing over the people behind them during the whole speech holding multiple large cameras over their heads, and all their photos were poorly composed and blurry from what I could see on their LCD. Wankers. All that gear, and you still can’t take good pictures.)

But. Yeah. OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There were people there from all over. I was afraid it would be the Roland Park crowd or just students, etc. But no. The mix of people was fantastic and, frankly, unusual for a sometimes-self-segregated Southern city like Baltimore. In itself, it was worth the cold and lack of coffee.

Anything would have been worth standing in a crowd of Baltimoreans and hearing Barack Obama stand up and shout, “Hello, Baltimore!” I get chills and tear-up a little thinking about it. I’m listening to the Inaugural events on NPR right now, and I’m still thinking about seeing Obama in my city this past weekend.

There were a lot of bikes around, but mine was in my office. I wished I’d brought it closer to brag about riding in the cold. But I think anyone who was outside deserved credit and could brag about the chill we all braved Saturday. But it was so worth it, I think it was more about the benefit and less about bravery.

I am wearing a blue and white flannel under a red sweater today. Rode in the snow to get to work. It’s a good day.

Photo Friday: Iconic.

OMG, mega cold commute.

The windchill was -2 this morning when I left.  Not counting the chill of riding downhill four miles to work.  Not as cold as some parts of the country.  But very very very cold for Maryland, where our summers are beastly.  It was awesome.  Read more.

Obama in Baltimore, Saturday!

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I am pissing myself with excitement over Obama stopping in Baltimore Saturday.  Transportation and anxiety are keeping me from the Inauguration, even though I wanted to cycle down  there badly.  I was beginning to feel badly about missing out.

But in Baltimore City?  I would not be able to live with myself if I missed it, pending a real and serious and dire emergency.  I am willing to walk if I have to.  I’ve walked downtown from North Baltimore before.  It’s a fun walk.  But I’ll likely ride my bike with Mrs. P to UB where my office is and leave my bike there and walk the rest of the way.  (I imagine bikes locked near the event or the train station will be frowned upon.)  But if UB is locked up because of its proximity to Penn Station, well, like I said.  I’ll walk.

I’m going to weep like a pinched baby Saturday, too.  I can’t help it.

My brother and a friend of mine are going nuts because they work in transportation and supply for the National Guard, who are all on call already this weekend for the Inauguration and then Saturday on top of it.  I don’t envy their stress, but I’m glad that very competent people are working to protect Obama and to protect all of us.  Okay, fear mongering over.

I’m not scared; I’m excited.

Thanking the Hanes gods for longjohns.

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I got drenched earlier this week riding my bike to work in all that rain. I mean like hanging my clothes to dry drenched. It was awesome.  My new fenders kept most of the slosh and slush and sludge off of me and off of my drivetrain.

But I was still looking forward to the sunny, clear and cold weather of yesterday and today. I had on very warm winter cycling gloves, a puffy vest, scarf, flannel or sweater and LONGJOHNS. Yes, longjohns. Rather than getting home with pink and chapped and stingy legs, I get home toasty and warm and happy and full of fuzzies because they are new.  And my hips smell like ink from the dye.

Of course I also sit in my office with very warm legs, which is very strange.  Especially if you’re a hairy man like me.  And you know you’re not supposed to wear anything under longjohns, right?  When your underwear touches your socks, it feels like you’re (to quote Ned Flanders) “wearin nothin at all!”  I’m not exactly into that, uh, ahem, lack of support.  It’s very odd.

Totally worth it to be able to cycle through a winter which is certainly colder than some places, but not quite New England or Upper Midwest either.

Rider status indicates that there are still in fact some cyclists in Baltimore who are, uh, brave/crazy enough to ride through the winter.  I’m not alone, and I don’t want to be.  Even when it’s raining and 35 degrees, there were folks out.

Possible fun joint ride Sunday.  If you’re in Baltimore, comment here and come!

Always new stuff.

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I guess it’s sometimes a post-holiday or back-to-school thing, where you have a bunch of new stuff all at once.  Maybe I just don’t shop a lot.  I don’t know.  But I rode to work this morning with a new Thermos of coffee in my backpack with my new planner, a new book, wearing a new vest, new socks, new gloves and being kept dry by new fenders.  The only thing I bought was the planner and the book, and those were to fill voids left by an old planner and all the books I’ve already read.  I feel spoiled somehow, like I don’t have the right to be toting around all this shiny new shit that I didn’t buy but instead just took out of a gift box.  The people I care about do give me some wonderful presents.  So maybe I am spoiled in a way.

And of course having a bunch of new stuff makes a lot of people (myself included) re-examine their relationship to material possessions.  I really love my new gloves and fenders and Thermos, but it’s the cycling in winter weather and not dropping five bucks a day to have good coffee at work thing that I really like.  I suppose that’s a healthy relationship to gear, right?  Using it?

I do have the tendency to pet my things though and often get very upset when a new scratch joins the dozens of others on my bike or when dust gets under the screen cover of my camera.  Then I think about my bike and not riding and my camera and not taking pictures.  Then, as Tyler Durden would say, the things I own end up owning me.

I’ve always struggled to have a healthy relationship to possessions, my body, my health.  You can’t just ignore your pains or bike maintenance, but you can’t get attached to them, either.  Tricky, I tell you.  Tricky.

Photo Friday: Meditation.

Where is my Christmas spirit?


I think I’ve been not much in the holiday spirit because I haven’t been shopping much at all.  And also work business.  But I think it’s largely a lack of shopping.  What?

Christmas came early for my bike though.  The seatpost clamp that is not QR doesn’t fit, but that’s Okay.  The seatpost does, and the saddle’s on, too.  The stitching is wacky on my seat.  But.  Whatever.  At least I can ride it today.  While staring at my maimed bike all last week across my desk made me ache to defy death in traffic, The Duke sitting here while I work has made me excited today for the chance to ride home.  For all it’s annoying quirks and imperfections, I do love my bike.

I think that my old (stolen) bike got me out of my car and into the fun world of getting around without four wheels.  This bike was under my butt when I really got into cycling in traffic and to get places that people look at me funny for riding to, like weddings, job interviews and community meetings in questionable neighborhoods.

There have been times I’ve badmouthed it myself, for all its hyrbid dorkiness, but I’d be beside myself if someone stole this one.

So he’s coming to the office with me until my workplace threatens me.  And I’m prepared to fight them, given what little anyone does to prevent bike theft these days.  (Though a UB detective tells me that they are getting siren locks to lend folks….)

Sumbitch stole my bike seat.

And seat post!  There I was last night at around 5:30, heading to a community meeting in Barclay.  I went to get my bike outside UB, and the seatpost and seat were gone!  I thought I must have forgotten to lock it, but the tiny little cable was cut. I use a U-lock, with a thick cable on my front wheel and a tiny cable they make for seats and other small stuff to lock my seat, since both are quick-release.  I never thought anyone would steal it.  Nor that the wanker would leave the light and computer on the handlebars which were worth far more money.  Stupid crackhead.

So I spent my evening fetching the vintage monster I sorta found and couldn’t find the owner for, discovering how much work getting it ridable will entail and ordering a new seat/post and a clamp that bolts closed(!).  It wasn’t that expensive, and I’ve been meaning to get rid of my heavy suspension seatpost and overly-cushy seat for a while.  But, you know, I wanted to still be riding until my replacements were in.  Now my poor bike is in my office, seatless and sad.

And I’m taking the bus this week.

Three years carfree.


There I was this morning, meandering through wooded streets on my way to work in Central Baltimore.  The ground was wet and more filled with gravel than I thought it would be, so I was taking it slowly to avoid having to clean myself and my drivetrain later.  (My current fenders suck hard.)  My fingers were warmer than they should have been, and I was trying to remember why yesterday felt like an important date.

Yesterday was three years since we actually sold the car and took up legs and transit and trains to get where we need to go.  I’m probably not much thinner and don’t really have a ton of money saved (I made more money as a grad student than I do as a VISTA), but I’m much happier.

I feel like I should have some reflections on being carfree, but I’m too tired to think of much.  Like how you avoid the guilt that one of my neighbors told me about this morning, of driving everyday alone.  Or how you really do see more of your city and meet more people and stay in at least slightly better physical shape.  Or how you should try it.

But it’s hard to really try being carfree.  We decided to sell our car a few weeks before we actually handed over the keys and $6,600 to a Saturn dealer — because Thanksgiving was coming, and we were on the way to Baltimore, and we couldn’t meet with the car guy to sell it until we got back.  So we had time to get used to the idea.  How will I get here?  Should I stock up on stuff because I don’t get there as often?  If I still owned a car, I don’t think I’d be able to think very creatively about transportation and fun because the four wheels would always be there to make that commute quicker or that trip a little more comfortable.  That could certainly be my own weakness speaking, but it’s like imagining what it’s like to be a vegetarian.  Until you’re faced with what to eat at a steakhouse you go to with a family member (and when, like the car  in the garage, you could just eat the meat), there are alternatives that are fun and alternatives which are just unpleasant that are hard to imagine unless you have to.  It’s not a matter of weakness or strength or ethics.  It’s hard to imagine the tight spot that vegetarianism and being carfree can each be unless you’re in it.

I’m certainly not trying to get preachy or anything.  Even with the rise of cycling as transportation, I don’t actually know anyone in my family or circle of friends who is intentionally carfree.  I do know some car-light folks who cycle as much as possible, and that’s more awesome than I can say.  But there’s still the car when you “need” it and the difficulty in imagining being very carfree.  I know people without a car because of money or a lack of license.  But swearing off the auto is hard business. I think I’m stubborn enough to be able to stick with it, that stubbornness being a weakness dressed up like a strength in this instance.  But there are definitely times when a car would make some things easier.  With the way things are laid out and constructed around cars in the US, this is bound to be true.  I’m not saying that we don’t live in a great country; nor am I judging it.  But the US is arranged around cars for the most part, and that’s not just my opinion.  Look around, or read up on what smarter folks have written about it.

In the end, though, cycling, walking and transit make a boring trip a mega-fun adventure.  Going to The Charles to see a movie is a pain in the ass if you drive.  If you cycle from North Baltimore, it’s a fun ride, and the theater is warm and inviting.  Imagine grocery shopping without ever having to look for or fight for a parking place.  Being able to lock your bike right by the door at work.  The cool looks you get when you go to a dinner party or a wedding and tell people you rode there on a bike or walked.

All possible without a car.

[More BIKE LIFE photos.]

[If you think cars are the best thing ever and want everyone to have one, you should direct your energies toward a blog on that topic (I'll read it), rather than wasting it on trolling comments that won't get published.  Just sayin.]

Photo Friday: White.

Post grant application vacuum.

Finished a big grant application Friday.  Worked Saturday.  Took off yesterday.  Back to work today, and I feel like I should be stressed out about something.

Back on my bike, too, after six days off, taking transit and walking.  Knee was bothering me, and it didn’t go away after a lot of time off the bike, reinforcing my belief that it’s more from sitting than cycling.  It’s not really a sharp pain, and I think I’m making it worse by holding my leg funny.

It’s very very cold, and I’m looking forward to cycling at any rate.  My ride into work is almost entirely downhill, so I don’t think I can really hurt my knee any more (?).

This list is over.

New shoes, strange knee.

Monday, I was at work between my normal workday and a community meeting I had to go to at night.  My knee was bothering me again, so I read up on what a trainer in college told me I had.  She was crazy, but I think she was right.  Except about the part about surgery.  Turns out it’s almost always exercise/PT, often involving cycling.  The inflamation is worse when sitting.  Yes.  So I took the long way to the meeting, and my knee felt a good bit better.  Yesterday also.  But I thought I’d rest it today and took the bus, which I’ll do for the rest of the week.  Okay, maybe it’s a wuss move, but at least I’m not driving, right?  The bus is its own kind of fun, actually.

And I met another cyclist in the church basement at the community meeting Monday who wears the reflective ankle straps I wear to keep my pants out of my chainrings.  I told him I was glad to not be the only one to have them, and we talked about favorite jeans ruined by chainrings and chains.  I also became less anal about wear-and-tear on my bike yesterday, through realizing that getting upset about a new scratch on my fork blade, when there are dozens all over my bike and that it had some from the shop anyway, is just stupid.

Either deal with it, or hate my bike and never ride.  Never ride?  F@#$ that.

And I finally have shoes on!  I realize there are people at work who have never ever seen me in shoes.  This is funny.  The purchase process was almost too good to be true, for someone who doesn’t wear leather but doesn’t want to drop $150 on shoes either.  First place I looked, got em.  Very nice price, too, with free shipping to boot.  Picked up my package at someone else’s house, strapped a large box to my bike (bought two sizes to try) and rode home in rush hour.  It was awesome.

But I don’t want to portray myself as a constant consumer, at least not of anything but notebooks, coffee/tea and bike innertubes.

Beat-up green Malibu.

Dear Lady in the Beat-Up Green Malibu:

It was pretty funny yesterday afternoon, how you blew your horn at me on my bike for a full second, as we approached 25th Street.  It was a good joke when I was in the straight lane so as not to block folks making this legal right on red and  how we weren’t even stopped yet.  I’m so polite that I’m a joker.  It was all very funny.  How you couldn’t even make your turn after you scared the shit out of me because of the traffic.  How we were uncomfortably face-to-face when my heart was racing and your window was open.  I felt like I should say “Hello” or something.  Oh, but I was laughing too hard inside!

Oh, and you were on your phone.

That’s why you were a bitch?  Yeah.  If I were a braver man, I’d have reached into your car and taken that phone.  I wouldn’t have touched you.  Don’t worry.  But you’d never see that phone again.  Part of me hopes that you got two flat tires or rear-ended a parked car and didn’t hurt anyone but instead caused yourself a lot of trouble.  But that’s not the funny part of me.

Here’s to hoping that you dropped your phone later and that it was run over by the fattest cyclist in Baltimore.

Go to hell,

This Dude

Your mileage may vary.

Why, in car commercials, are we still supposed to believe that 30 mpg is good mileage?  I remember when I was still a car owner (ahem!) and bought a car that was rated at 30 mpg on the highway — a very small car at that.  I was disappointed.  “What?  That’s all?  All that technology, and that’s the best they can do?”  Of course, gas was like $1.20 then, and eco-consciousness was not as widespread.  At least, I was clueless.  I thought recycling was enough.

Now, the same auto company still does not have their own hybrid technology, even though I met a guy recently who mistakenly said they did it first.  This same car company has a new SUV out this year.

Gee.  The auto-industry really seems to have their own self-preservation in mind.

What?

In the morning, I get four miles per bagel and then some on my hybrid [bike].  In the afternoon, not so much, going all up hill.  Maybe like four miles on a whole croissant.  That’s a steep hill, and I’m my own heavy cargo.

Crate and deck treats.


A few weeks ago, my friend and I embarked on a milkcrate installation and tire/tube replacement on a quiet Saturday afternoon. It was very spur-of-the-moment and got more so with the addition of snacks and beer. I got some photos of Mr. D doing funny things with his knee brace, but I’ll keep those to myself.

This probably makes it look like we’re whinos. But this was definitely a treat for both of us.

Photo Friday: Spontaneous.

Two flat tires yesterday on my way home.


(I know; we have a bike blog. But I’ve been dominating the posting lately and have been neglecting this blog, so here you go.)

It’s a bee-otch. I have been having a lot of tire trouble lately. Or, maybe, I’m just riding more and getting more flats. I officially blame the Jones Falls Trail, particularly the part under the Howard Street bridge. Of my recent flats, three were caused by glass from right there. And after my recent adventures, I’m rocking Kevlar-belted tires. That didn’t help yesterday when three huge slivers of glass that looked like quartz stems stabbed my tire. I came out from work and suspected someone was messing with my lock and noticed my rear flat. I didn’t feel like patching, so I put my spare tube on. Those tires are pain to get back on, so it took a bit for me to figure out the trick. I was running low on air, so I stopped to put some air in when I got to the trail and realized why: busted valve stem. While I was examining this, some dickhead wizzed by me on his bike without a word, bell, etc. (I hope your trunk bag fell in some mud, wanker.)

What’s up with the rude cyclists lately? Are they pissed that they have to ride because of gas prices or something? I mean, I love the greater number of cyclists. But there was a time when most of the people I passed greeted me back or even first. You know: last year!

Anyway, I went to some shade to patch my tube after taking off this new and busted tube. Some old guy came over and silently watched my work. Told me I have a nice bike. That I should get some tire strips and that I would have payed less for my bike at the bike shop he likes. I didn’t feel like getting into how tire strips rub and then cause flats, how the price of my bike did not differ (in fact) from the different Giant dealers in the Baltimore area in October 2006. I just finished, thanked him for his company with a handshake and went on my way.

I was stupid enough to try to plug the hole in my tire tread with rubber cement. Did a number on the rest of the rubber. I think it’s Okay for a while. But I patched the inside of the tire, ordered two spare tires and some more spare tubes — just in case. Overhauled my brakes last night, too. Replaced my front pads, which were doing a number to my rims. Poor things.

I rode a different way to work this morning, avoiding my usually sylvan ride in favor of riding through traffic the whole way. In some respects, I like it better. Though I’m probably upping my chances of getting hit. When I was on the Maryland Avenue bride this morning, I turned around and saw four other cyclists riding to work and school. Five bikes on that little bridge at once!

Biking in Baltimore is coming around.