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.

A reading-kind-of-day.


I wish I could sit home with a good book on a day like today. I like my job. Here I am, hyped up on coffee and with a few minutes to spare. And I’m blogging on company time, on a computer that is supposed to be “monitored.” But, like I said, I like my job. A lot. Being a VISTA is great, and I have a nice little office with nice people in nice little offices up here on the top floor.  I have a lot of lunch meetings, but not today.  Today, I get to do my favorite thing aside from biking up to Charles Village to meet Mrs. P.: get a coffee/snack and hole up in my office for an hour reading a good book.  It’s a good way to spend lunchtime.

I wussed out and took the bus to work today. I rode the bus three days last week, but that’s because The Duke was tire-less. I’ll ride my bike in the rain, and I have. But “severe storms” — no. Not if I don’t have to. Not today. The bus picks me up outside my apartment building and drops me at Penn Station, across Charles Street from my office. It’s a good deal. I am soaked now from a coffee run with a co-worker. My sandals are on the AC vent drying. My bike is at home with new rim tape, new tubes and new tires with frikkin Kevlar in them. I feel like I’m cheating or being disloyal.

I am tired. I went to see Candlebox with my brother Sunday night, tickets to which show (along with a Tshirt) were my birthday gift. It was a hell of a lot of fun, but I was beat yesterday. Yesterday, I worked from 9am – 8pm and ate pasta and green beans when I got home and watched TV and went to bed. I’m still tired, but that could be the weather now that I think of it.

This blog got all “this happened, and I did this, etc.” all the sudden.

Damaged rim.


[Larger.]
Not my bike.  (My rims are black.)  This is what happens when you don’t notice there’s no air in your tire and then try to ride off.  Busted valve stem; Slime didn’t help.  I sanded this rim for this person.  Because I like playing with sandpaper.  And because I like this person.  A lot.

Photo Friday: Awful.

Staying home or running around?


This is a neat article on the environmental benefits of being lazy. Funny, I didn’t know that I have been saving the planet my whole life!

Yeah, but, uh, just so you know, person in article: not buying stuff does not make you a “transcendentalist.”

From the same source, a piece on kids never going outside. This is strange to me. When I was a kid, not going outside to play was a punishment or my parents being strict because of rain. We rode bikes, created our own baseball league with stats kept in copybooks, played guns, got into minor trouble, socialized sans playdates, etc. But the kids I work with on cycling, most of them, don’t do anything like that. If they go over one another’s houses, its by car and their parents’ permission. Two made it to thirteen without learning to ride a bike at all. But with cycling, you have to go out, learn, risk, engage. It’s very different from the online video games these kids use as social interaction.

I think that’s why they’re taking to cycling like they are. One young man has taken his bike as transportation a few times that I know of, trips of a few miles for which his parents would usually drive him. I think that’s awesome. A few of them seem to enjoy learning how their bikes work, and most of them are amazed when I tell them something like, “That wasn’t hard, was it? We just rode thirteen miles.”

There’s hope! And, ahem, it seems like bikes certainly help.

Bike Pageant.


Next month, Waverly Main Street and Greater Homewood Community Corporation are hosting the National Night Out Kick-Off parade, which includes a Bike Pageant.

Download the flier here, which I host with permission from GHCC’s PR person.

People can ride in the parade by signing up.  I might do it in a dress or some other feat of daring.  Daring because I don’t have a step-through frame, not because wearing a dress is necessarily brave.  I played a little gig in a nightgown once, in college.

Even more info can be found at Waverly Mainstreet’s blog.

Ikea bikes, etc.


Geez, with the bike blog and with my free time being tied up in bikes right now, I’ve been neglecting this blog. Sorry. Go on over to NBBB for more on Ikea bikes.

But I won’t do something jerky like make that my “this weekend I spent hours fixing bikes” blog.  That’s this one!  My pal needed work done on his front derailer (Sheldon’s spelling), and Mrs. P. needed both of hers attended to.  Thing is, I forgot about the moving sun where I was working, and I got a bit of a sunburn.  I’ve gotten a few of those this year.  That’s not going to help the fact that I already look older than I am and have reached the age where that’s not good news anymore, just news.

But fixing things is always fun, and when you’re helping people to keep biking, that’s awesome, too.  Sunburn be damned.  A liter of water, an energy coffee drink dealy and Chinese food, and I was ready to face the world.

Which I did that evening, and Mr. Dan and I blasted all over North Baltimore, in search of a milestone on his new cyclometer.  We celebrated with cold drinks and chocolate, Mr. Dan’s treat.

I recently watched all six Star Wars films, too, in chronological order.  That is, in the order of The Force, not The Box Office.  Mrs. P. had never seen them, and I tried to keep my mouth shut.  I really did.  I hate how they changed the song at the end of Return of the Jedi, one of the most [musically] triumphant movie endings ever.  The other CGI stuff, I don’t know.  Whatever.  I’m pissed about that song!

Where are all these frikkin storms?

Damn.

I might suck at sewing.

I learned to use a machine, but I suck at it.  I keep screwing it up.  It could be the machine.  But it’s likely just me.  Inspired by two things, I pulled out the sewing machine and worked on stuff until I broke the second from last needle in the apartment.

Like I said, I was put into motion by two things.  One, a good thing.  Matt’s awesome bike bag.  Two, a bad thing.  I am going to leave out the name of the manufacturer.  But I have a new messenger bag that was a month coming, and it’s Okay and all.  But in addition to outsourcing and an obviously second-rate production job, my frikkin strap is fraying because its’ cheaper than my old ones by the same company.  It gets bound up with the cross strap, and it jams in the cam buckle.  But, of course, they cost more now.  Unfrikkinbelievable.

I think I might do what I’ve been flirting with doing for a year.  I might put a frikkin milk crate on my rack. I did think about taking my rack off last week, since I would never use it with a large messenger bag.  And I love bike racks and milk crates and all things Fred.  I mean, I never say, “Hey, look!  That chick has one of them there messenger bags!”  I do, however, shout when I see an awesome milk crate or otherwise something good happening on a bike rack.  I hope it would not get in the way of my seat, since I’ve had loads do that.  And those 700s leave my rack riding very high.  But it might be worth a try.  I think I have occasion to hit a store to buy hose clamps tomorrow.  And a family member, ahem, who, ahem, reads this blog, ahem, is in possession of a sweet Greenspring Dairy crate in green that would look frikkin sweet on my rack. Sweet rack.  Frikkin sweet rack.

Can I say FRIKKIN anymore in a post?

DIY therapy, yo.

I am very tired of searching for the perfect messenger bag.  Been looking for like twelve years.  No luck.  Probably because I have a thing for canvas, and most are made from nylon and other petro-fabrics.  I am also stressed.  So I think I’m gonna try my hand at making some, first for my wife in case I poop out after one.  She wants a simple, black canvas affair so that she can get some awesome patches.  If it does work out well, hell, I’m gonna make some nice panniers.  And, hey, I get to score one of these awesome toys.

Bike intro for the little dudes.

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[My wife's Blinktastic bike, which she commutes on. It, sorry, she has a cool name, too.]

I am teaching a group of little dudes about cycling, a sort of course/class. Safety, maintenance, the difference between all them there tubes rolling around on a bike, etc. The kids are between the ages of 11 and 16 and are definitely into video games and the like. Two of them have ridden a bike like twice. And, frankly, they don’t go outside to play like I did when I was their age. I was afraid that they might not be all that interested when my surrogate uncle suggested the endeavor.

Last night, I explained in general, how a bike works, where there are bearings, how everything on a bike has a purpose, how they can learn to ride around sans car and driver’s license, how they can be self-sufficient and free on a bike. Most of all, that riding a bike is fun, not just something for hippies, raceheads, the Dutch and people who don’t want cars.

I think they dug the idea.

They actually asked questions, thought using a chain tool/breaker (which we did because a chain needed to be replaced on someone’s bike) was cool, wanted to know more about things like fenders. Of course, I haven’t showed them how to grease wheel hubs yet, what tire Slime smells like (ick!) or taken them into traffic where they have never ever been in the position of driver. That can be scary for anyone. But I think they have it in them. If the project continues, I think the cycling community might gain a few young members. Enthusiastic ones! If you see ten people with blinking red lights (my rule) riding around North Baltimore city this spring, that’s us.

Safety gear, but no helmets?

At the risk of sounding like a complete jerk, what’s up with some cyclists around Baltimore who tote around like seven pounds of safety gear but don’t wear helmets? A guy just rode up University Parkway with bright dayglow gloves, jacket, hat and pannier. But no helmet. He had a half-dozen red lights, including one on his hat.

I suppose one could respond that the nature of his gear was to prevent a wreck, not to protect himself. Maybe he likes his bike a lot and does not want a crash. Maybe he likes cars and does not want to mess up people’s cars that might hit him.

Or maybe he thinks that getting hit from behind by a car that does not see him is the only way he’s going to get smashed. Not the Door Prize. Not jerk-ass joggers who avoid empty sidewalks to walk swiftly with jaunty hips in the bike lanes, with traffic, not against it. Not holes in the road or old storm drains with grates that run parallel to the street. Just saying.

I’m genuinely confused — not trying to start a helmet vs. no-helmet fight. I’ll cop to riding sans helmet during the two months in 2005 between when I bought my bike and when we sold our car.  I’m confused most by folks who clearly have safety in mind but still don’t wear helmets.

Bicyclemax.

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At the risk of sounding like some nut, one of the latest CarMax commercials really bugs me. You know the ones where there’s some allegedly outdated mode of transportation, someone wants to buy one, and then the dealer (HorseMax or BicycleMax) have some policy similar to CarMax. “Why didn’t someone think of this before?” the customer wonders aloud. There is one with chariots, which, Okay, I think we’d all call an outdated mode of transportation. But then these commercials claim the same thing about horses and camels, which is certainly saying something to people who live in lands where these beasts really are a means of transportation. I suppose you could argue that the commercials are meant for an American audience, and no one here rides camels to work, so no harm, no fowl. But no one in this country ever needed a camel dealer for transportation. That does not work. They are totally saying that cars are the highest and most modern form of transportation. Not just any car. A used car from CarMax.

Which is why the one about bikes makes me mad. It has some big-toothed Victorian wankers talking about comfort, French cheese, bringing a bike back if you don’t like it, etc. The implication is that bikes are an outdated means of getting around, one that, with the rest of the commercials, I think counts as more of a statement. That those of us on bikes that are actually more modern than the Planet Killers a lot of people drive are somehow old-fashioned. That we are ugly ladies who want a pillow under our butts and a creepy mustached guy riding around with us.

Watch the video here.

I don’t know. They are in the business of selling cars, so maybe they are threatened by the fact that more bikes are sold yearly than cars. Maybe they deliberately targeted cycling. Maybe what’s next is like the anti-global warming morons who try to sell us jacked-up science. Maybe Ford and GM will start funding studies about cycling as unhealthy, dangerous, etc.

Or maybe they’ll want in on the action and start making bikes, which would be pretty nice. Those companies have a lot of money they could invest in infrastructure. GM got rid of streetcars and got buses into major cities. Maybe they could get bikes there, too. Not to mention the sweet designs they might be able to come up with. A Mustang bike?!

0% Financing on all new 2008 bikes! Taxes and registration extra.

Professional driver. Closed course.10,000 mpg (EPA estimated)

Model shown with optional equipment.

Bike tools and bike shops.

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So I pretty much swore off the LBS when we moved to Baltimore for things like tune-ups. In Carbondale, there was a bike shop called Phoenix Cycles that we went to regularly, with an owner and employees we really liked. Hell, I remember going in once to buy a thin cable for locking up my helmet when I got too lazy to carry it around Carbondale and staying for an hour talking to the owner/manager. We always got a wave when we walked or rode by the store on a busy corner, and I think we even sent them a Christmas card. It was a nice relationship, and it was easy to bike to. To boot, the people there seemed genuinely interested in “bike culture” and getting people out of their cars. The selection of bikes and accessories was nice, too, but the people were what I liked.

Where I live now, it is a different story. We have some chains like REI and Performance Bike. Some local chains like Princeton Sports and Hudson Trail Outfitters (where I bought my bike). A few truly local bike shops, yes. But the only one close to me is really devoted to “raceheads”, and I am not walking in there with my hybrid full of heavy utility accessories like lights, rack, fenders, bell, etc. No offense if you’re into racing or that un-named shop. It’s just not my thing. Enough people have made fun of me for me to not want to that particular shop for anything. I know, it’s my issue, in my head, etc. Okay.

Which brings up not going to the LBS anymore except for parts. When I bought my bike last fall, it came with free lifetime tune-ups. Lifetime. That’s sweet. It’s a little far to ride to on a damaged or needs-tune-up bike, but free is free. However, they have a 5-7 day “turn around.” Only owning one bike right now, I really prefer to, you know, have it. I have a membership there (which actually has paid itself several times over in the form of awesome sales and free online shipping), but they said there is only so much they can do to rush, even for members, especially during “bike season.” I decided I’d tune my own bike up and stop being so afraid of messing something up and/or getting very dirty.

I learned to do the most frequent things you get for a standard tune-up. It’s nice to be self-sufficient in small ways with such a self-sufficiency-inducing machine like a bike. I mean, part of the freedom of cycling is that you can do almost everything that needs to be done to it yourself, if you’re a commuter.

Lately, Mr. Dan Dan The Gih-tar Man and I have been learning the harder things to do and about the finer details of our bikes. Cranks, bottom brackets, cassette removal, etc. I have not touched a headset yet, but that’s coming soon. I’m still nervous about some tasks and probably take a long time to do them, but there are some things I am getting good at. I can clean a mean drivetrain. I mean, seriously, I got my chain down to the bare metal a few weeks ago, and it was black and sticky from neglect. Given the dirty streets around here during the dry summer and the fact that I used crappy lube (and too much of it) last time, this was an accomplishment, I tell you. I can get brakes perfectly adjusted. I am developing my wheel-truing skills, too. I totally have a fantasy of being the best non-shop wheel truer in North Baltimore, who will true wheels in the summer for the price of one six-pack of local beer, in the winter for one cup of Dunkin Donuts or Zeke’s coffee.

In fact, I am going to help Dan with The Mule tonight at his house, with my folding truing stand.

“Are you gonna ride down?” asked Dan.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because then you’d be a service bike! Coming down on a bike with tools to fix another bike, that’s awesome!”
“Holy shit, you’re right! I’ll get that sumbitch on my rack one way or another,” I declared.

So if you see a dude on a Giant hybrid with a wheel and truing stand mounted to a bike in North Baltimore tonight, ding your bell at me and meet us at Dunkin Donuts later. The one on 41st. You know.