Bike-commute day 88—to work

Tuesday, 04 October 2011

Today was the first day with cool weather, cool enough to require two layers. Not many others were using the bikeway. Just an older cyclist around the Fair Park crossing, Paul and his dogs (AKA double-dog Jason) near the Woodbine crossing, and Gene and his dog Patches near the Woodman crossing. Even Millie and Gladys were apparently scared away by the cold snap.

Ride conditions
Temperature: 41 to 48°F at 07:25
Precipitation: none
Winds: calm 
Clothing: Skinsuit, undershirt, tights, ankle socks, full-finger gloves
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time: 00:44:19 for 11.94 miles
Heart rate: 126 bpm HRave, 146 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 1 cyclist, 2 pedestrians, 3 dogs
Playback of the ride

Bike-commute day 74—to work

Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Last evening I was preparing myself for a rain day and commuting by car. But it was clear this morning, and the weather radar showed that the storms had bypassed Dayton further to the north. Our only storm effects were higher winds from the southwest that apparently worked to move the wet clouds away from Dayton. So I set out for a bike-commute after eating breakfast, which I had started before I checked the weather.

Thanks to the fast southwest winds, the second leg of my commute was extremely fast today. With almost no exertion, my cadence reached 104 rpm and speed 25.3 mph on the Great Miami and Mad River bikeways. In the remaining parts of the ride, I had good speeds in the sheltered areas, but slower going on the open stretches of the Creekside and Iron Horse trails.

After I crossed Linden, I saw Millie and Gladys up ahead. I slowed to a stop as I reached them. Millie had a new perm, and her freshly colored hair was under a fine net. We joked about the likelihood of a hot date in her future, and I kidded Gladys that I could make an approintment for here to get a tight perm too. I asked them if they often stopped to talk to some of the regular walkers, and they named a few that they shared conversation with. Then Paul jogged by, this time without his dogs, and I said goodby to Millie and Gladys.

I pulled beside Paul to ask about his dogs, whom he said had walked earlier with him, on their usual course about 2.5 miles around the circle of the bikeway and Woodman Avenue. Paul walks his dogs daily, starting on the bikeway because of its convenience to his home to the west of the bikeway and north of Woodbine.

Once again on the way, near Woodman I saw a woman on her bike with a small dog running beside her. The bike had an extension off to the right that held the dog's lead, and the dog had some sort of harness. "Nice setup for both of you," I said as I passed them.

Ride conditions
Temperature: 75 to 79°F at 09:30
Precipitation: none
Winds: 10 to 15 mph from the southwest
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time:  00:41:34 for 11.92 miles
Heart rate: 129 bpm HRave, 149 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 5 cyclists, 9 pedestrians, 3 dogs
Playback of the ride

Bike-commute day 72—to work

Monday, 22 August 2011

Very few people on the bikeway this morning, and only a couple of the regulars. The most notable was a cyclist who headed parallel to me just outside of Eastwood Park. I rode the bikeway immediately adjacent to Springfield Street, and he took the right edge of the right lane. His pace was just a bit better than mine, and he passed in front of me as I took the crossing into the winding creek path.

I passed the Kiwi and her younger riding partner, this time with us going in opposite directions near the DPL executive golf course. And I passed Paul in the curve between Woodbine and Woodman. I stopped and u-turned to ask the names of his two dogs: Ruby and Bettis-the-Labrador. Pet names can tell a lot about a person, and I surmise that Paul was a Steelers fan about ten years ago.

Ride conditions
Temperature: 55 to 60°F at 07:30
Precipitation: none
Winds: calm
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time: 00:43:22 for 11.95 miles
Heart rate: 119 bpm HRave, 140 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 6 cyclists, 5 pedestrians, 3 dogs
Playback of the ride

Bike-commute day 48—to workFlat and HitchHiking

Wednesday, 6 July 2011.

Just after the second checkpoint, I saw a cyclist ahead of me taking a leisurely pace. As I reached him, I saw his hair flying. I warned him for the overtaking, saw no reaction, and I glanced at him as I passed. Earbuds were wrapped around his lobes.

I slowed to a crawl in the winding area between the crossings for Springfield Street and North Smithville and waited for him to reach me. I said, "You should take one of those earbuds out so you can hear traffic while you're riding."

"But I can hear you. The music's not on now." He was in the early twenties, his neck-length brown curls were disheveled from the ride. His gentle features were countered by a jutting lower jaw, tightening expression, and narrowed eyes.

In response to more about the need to hear traffic, he said, "Why don't you mind your own business. I can do what I want."

Sure, I can ride on by, mind my own business, and let him think that it's fine to ride without a helmet and to close out the traffic sounds around him. Perhaps he doesn't need a reminder that 175 pounds of flesh and bike are no match for 1800 pounds of power and auto. That even a slow speed of 12 mph means he covers 17.6 feet before he has a second to reach for the brakes. That a helmet often means the difference between minor injuries and death.

Was I wasting my breath, my time to continue talking to a young rider who assumes his invulnerability?

Doesn't the biking community need to take on a more visible public education role, where cyclists are taught about preventing and surviving accidents, motorists are encouraged to share the road and obey marked crossings, and all are taught to follow traffic laws and provide basic courtesy to others?

I considered these questions and others as I continued through my commute.


In the middle of the last leg of the commute, everything was going fine. Nice speed, little traffic, friendly greetings from the cyclists and walkers. And in one moment, I heard "Phiss phiss phiss" and then "phew, phew; phew. Phew." as I slowed to a stop.

A flat, judging by the sound. I looked at and felt the front tire: hard and perfectly inflated. Then the back tire: very soft, though it wasn't completely deflated yet. The air escape had stopped, and I rotated the tire to find what had caused the flat. I noticed a few points where fabric was showing through the rubber, and those were indications of what to expect. And when I rubbed my thumb over several threads that showed through the rubber, the fissure appeared, tube rubber popped through, and more air escaped.

With no chance of changing the tire itself, I lifted the bike to my shoulder and started walking toward Woodman Avenue, only 300 yards ahead of me. —Just enough time to say hi to Paul, this time without his two dogs, as he jogged passed me.— Once at Woodman, I took off my helmet and sunglasses, put on my happiest smile, and held out my thumb to the passing southbound traffic. After a wave of traffic passed, I looked behind me to check for adequate room for someone to stop. I moved about 30 feet north, to the end of a long, empty side lane intended for parking access to businesses.

Several waves of traffic passed, and I held up my thumb selectively. I knew that female drivers were unlikely to pick up a male hitchhiker, unless they happened to know me and work at Kodak also. Since my fixed-gear bike has bolted-on wheels, it wouldn't fit in most cars. And since drivers of business vehicles are usually scrupulous about liability issues, I held out my thumb only to male drivers of non-commercial pickups and vans.

I noticed a bronze Ford F-150 in the northbound lane make a u-turn at the light. The pickup pulled into the parking lane in front of me, and the driver waved for me to advance. I walked up to his window, and he said, "My wife is a biker. Figured I'd want someone to stop for her, so I should do the same." So I lifted the bike from my shoulder to the truck bed and climbed into the cab. He asked where I was headed, and he saw no problem with the side trip to Research Park from his normal course down Woodman. He even offered the use of his cellphone if I needed to call in to the office, though the travel to Kodak took less time than a phone call. The time was enough for introductions, a bit of talk about his wife's triathlons and his mountain biking at MoMBA, and quick interjected directions to the engineering entrance to the building.

Ride conditions
Temperature: 69 to 72°F at 07:55
Precipitation: none
Winds: calm
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves.
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time:  00:36:28 for 9.95 miles
Heart rate: 125 bpm HRave, 141 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 9 cyclists, 7 pedestrians, 1 dog
Here is a playback of the ride.

Bike-commute day 42—to work

Wednesday, 22 June 2011.

The ride today started with a short conversation with Mike and Millie as they walked along Princeton Drive. Finally we had a chance to say more than just a hello while I whizzed by. Both are toying with retirement, both are working about half-time. Millie is a social worker who specializes in international adoption, and Mike has retired from teaching at a local college (he didn't name it) and now volunteers his services (I have forgotten where, for now).


Once on the bikeway, I saw a record number of weekday cyclists, including Gary and Amy on their tandem, just outside Eastwood/Park on the Springfield Street bikeway and Paul running near the trestle—today without his two dogs in tow.

The pleasant ride was marred only by a female driver on her phone in a black Wrangler-like vehicle (license tag EJK-5185) who was too intent in her conversation to pause for me at the marked crossing at Burkhardt.

Ride conditions
Temperature: 69 to 71°F at 07:45
Precipitation: none
Winds: 5 to 10 from the southwest
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves.
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time:  00:44:16 for 11.96 miles
Heart rate: 129 bpm HRave, 159 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 10 cyclists, 8 pedestrians, 1 dog
Here is a playback of the ride.

Bike-commute day 37—to work

Tuesday, 14 June 2011.

The initial leg of my commute from home is often a source of misjudging how the ride will go. Since it is downhill through my crossing of the Monument Avenue bridge, it's easy to feel strong and fast. This morning was no different on the descent to the river, and it was during the route along the Mad River that I thought my legs feel like iron weights, and not at all like powerful steel pistons. After the exhilarating ride with Jeff Collier yesterday, my body today was exercising some grudge against me, avoiding any successful push to reach again the higher performance level.

Every aspect of a bike ride has its yin and yang. Today, as I approached and slowed for the Airway Boulevard crossing, an auto driver from the east slowed, stopped, and waved me forward. There were no other cars from either the east or west, so I resumed my spin and waved and mouthed a Thanks! to her as I crossed. Then as I slowed to approach the Burkhardt Avenue crossing, a black sports car from the east also slowed without clearly intending to stop, and I applied reverse pedal effort to stop my fixed gear before reaching the marked crossing. The car continued its slowed traverse of the crossing, the driver glared. I read his license plate "LTH 1" clearly as he continued to the west.

The last leg of my route, perhaps the most sociable part, is where I often meet the most people that I know by name. Today Millie was walking south to bring Gladys to their morning walk, and Paul (who I had fictionalized his name as Double-Dog-Jason) was heading north with his two dogs. Today's ride included a short errand off the bikeway—a jaunt across three parking lots to a Shell gas station to buy lottery tickets. One of my past lotto numbers was a winner of a whopping $2. So no retirement nest egg from the last purchase.

Ride conditions
Temperature: 54 to 59°F at 07:55, 64°F at 10:00
Precipitation: none
Winds: calm
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves.
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time: 00:45:35 for 12.30 miles
Heart rate: 124 bpm average, 143 bpm maximum
Bikeway users: 4 cyclists, 6 pedestrians, 4 dogs
Here is a playback of the ride.

Bike-commute day 12—to work with Wagner

Somewhere before checkpoint 2, Richard Wagner's Tristan und Isolde took hold of my rhythm, and it carried me through to halfway between checkpoint 3 and the end of my commute. My mind's eye pictured the score for the famous Sehnsucht (longing) theme,

...and my mind's ear heard the Act 2 "Prelude" repeatedly. But my memory carries the conducting of Daniel Barenboim and the voices of Siegfried Jerusalem (Tristan) and Waltraud Meier (Isolde)—from the better recording I own of the opera. I also have the Bayreuth performance under Herbert von Karajan, with Ramon Vinay (Tristan) and Martha Mödl (Isolde); but this is a poorly produced document of a live performance that lacks much presence. On the other hand, Meier and Jerusalem through truly believable sparks between each other.

The private concert ended when I saw Pat again with his two dogs, before I crossed Woodbine. I stopped to tell him my nickname for him here: Double-Dog-Jason.

Temperature: 43 to 45°F at 07:20, 48 to 49°F at 09:15
Precipitation: none
Winds: 5 to 15 mph from the south
Clothing: Top with 3 layers (Lycra longsleeve undershirt, skinsuit, arm warmers, Lycra-wool jacket); Bottom with 2 layers (skinsuit, Lycra tights); ankle socks. Full-finger Gore-tex gloves. (A bit too warm; unzipped top layer before checkpoint 2, unzipped middle layer after checkpoint 2.)
Bike: Lotus fixed-gear
Time: 0:51:00 (approx.) for 11.86 miles
Bikeway users: 2 pedestrians, 2 dogs

08:12—departing from home.
08:27—passing the zig-zag up from the Mad River Bikeway.
08:37—passing the west gate to Eastwood Park.
08:49—passing the trestle remains at Linden.
09:03—arriving at work.

Bike-commute day 11—to workHow not to smooth auto-bike traffic

The rains stopped last evening, and the roads were dry in the morning. But as I crossed the Monument Street bridge, shielding my eyes from the bright sunshine, I saw the river was overflowing to the bikeway. Since I was on my Lotus fixed-gear, taking the gravel concourse above the river was out of the question, and I took the sidewalk—slowly, careful of two pedestrians and one with a vacuum cleaner in tow—against the flow of traffic in the street. At the ziz-zag down near the Green Bridge, I saw that the Mad River was living up to its name: an even higher and stronger flow was coursing into the Miami, and the bikeway was flooded at least to the railroad trestle near Valley Street.

So I took Monument Avenue through the light manufacturing area.

One pickup driver did everything possible to thwart his easy entrance to Monument from a service yard. As I rode along Monument going east, a pickup driver pulled to the street from a Rumpke service yard, stopped, looked both ways, apparently saw me, and released his brakes enough to coast an additional 3 feet. I interpreted his coasting as impatience and potentially a sign that he had not seen me approaching. I slowed a lot, expecting him to pull into the street. He stopped again. It was clear he had seen me, and he had just anticipated moving into the street prematurely. His impatience (my inference here) resulted in a few more seconds of stopping before his turn onto Monument, and (I infer again) increased what impatience he already felt.

Bikeway crossing (magenta) at Airway Rd, Riverside OH

Then another pair of drivers exhibited their at-any-cost ownership of the road at the bikeway crossing at Airway. This crossing is well marked with pedestrian slashes embossed on the street, auto signs posted for the approaching two lanes of autos from each direction, in-path signage for the approaching bikeway users, and a pedestrian island placed to allow a pause in the crossing. As I approached the crossing from the north (top of image), the street was clear of traffic from the east, and two vehicles approached from as far away as Linh's Restaurant. —At about the location of the green car in the image.— I crossed the two westbound lanes, and saw neither of the two roadway users were slowing. So I stopped at the island. The near driver, of a pickup marked Extermital, sneered and flipped me off. Do I infer again some attitude of impatience—or dominance—from this driver?

No ego from me (for once) feels offence. No shift in mood. And my mood was heightened not more than a couple miles down the bikeway, at the corner of the DPL Executive Golf Course. My happy whistling startled three beautiful, strong deer who looked up from their grazing beside the bikeway. They glanced at each other, then scattered into the trees that line the bikeway. Four more deer inside the DPL compound galloped in the opposite direction toward the tree-lined creek.

At Woodbine, I saw Two-dog-Jason approaching the crossing from the south. Since I had to stop for a car, my crossing was slow. I introduced myself and Two-dog-Jason told me his name: Pat. It's been at least three years that we've seen each other on the bikeway during my morning commute. Finally there are real names for us to add to our hellos.

Central Park, New York City

In New York City's Central Park another controversy is developing. In the hardcopy version, the article was titled "Neither Pedestrian Nor Auto." (It is otherwise titled in the online edition.) But the summarized assertion of the original title exhibits a basic misunderstanding of the position of the bicycle in the mix of transportation. Absolutely the bicycle is a vehicle. The cyclist is also a pedestrian—when a cyclist dismounts, the transformation is then complete. But nevertheless, all—motorist, cyclist, and pedestrian—must obey posted traffic signage. At issue for cyclists using Central Park are the questions of courtesy and obeying the hierarchy of trail usage. (In trail usage, cyclists must give right-of-way to pedestrians and horses; pedestrians must give right-of-way to horses; horses must give freedom-from-road-apples to everyone.)

From the few visits I have made to Central Park, it is not the best location for bicycle training. The number of strollers who also use the streets and paths that are closed off from vehicular traffic is too large for developing power, heart strength, stamina. The park is, though, well suited for the casual, pleasant Sunday ride with the family. Begging for attention is whether any convenient location exists on Manhattan Island for cyclists to train, free from the traffic snarls, exhaust, and stop-and-start progress of the streets.

Temperature: 37°F at 07:20, 29 to 39°F at 09:15
Precipitation: none
Winds: none
Clothing: Top with 4 layers (Lycra longsleeve undershirt, skinsuit, arm warmers, poly fleece vest, Lycra-wool jacket); Bottom with 2 layer (skinsuit, quilted tights); ankle socks. Quilted gloves. (Comfortable at first, but zipping down 3 of the top layers by the time I reached Woodbine. Moderate sweating in chest & back.)
Bike: Lotus fixed-gear
Time: 0:55:00 (approx.) for 11.86 miles
Bikeway users: 3 pedestrians, 4 dogs, 7 deer

07:50—departing from home.
08:xx—passing the zig-zag up from the Mad River Bikeway.
08:xx—passing the west gate to Eastwood Park.
08:xx—passing the trestle remains at Linden.
08:45—arriving at work. (No checkpoint times available.)

Bike commute day 3, to work

Temperatures: 34°F at 07:10, 36°F at 09:10
Clothing: Top with 3 layers (longsleeve poly-Spandex Reebok shirt, longsleeve skinsuit, closely-woven wool-acrylic cycling jacket); Bottom with 2 layers (skinsuit, Lycra tights); ankle socks; quilted gloves. (Cool, but comfortable body.)
Time: 0:53:xx for 12.5 miles

I opened this posting at 07:10 or 07:15, knowing I need to speed up my preparations to get out the door and on the bike. I had awakened this morning still tired, from a weird dream where my family doctor Barry was encouraging me to compete in the Gay Games coming up, in raquetball or swimming, and Chuck to compete in cycling. Still groggy, I struggled to slip off the wrist supports that I sleep with and shushed Howard from his snuffing and sneezing at my bare legs. Then up to tap off the alarm and pee, followed by my daily weigh-in. "Damn! 169 pounds, it says." So I pick up the 10-pound dumbbell beside the scale, step on again, let it register, step off and set down the weight, and step on again to see that the reading is now 168.0. I take that as the most accuracy I can get—"gotta get a more reliable scale," I think, write it on the weight record, and pull on some gym shorts and a tee. After I let Howard out of the bedroom and turn on the poster light over the stairs, I accompany him downstairs and to the kitchen. It's 05:39, time enough for the routine of turn on WYSO for Morning Edition, make a double latte, let Howard out, cut a slice of bread for toast, let Howard in, let Howard get the Wall Street Journal, sit and read the paper and take my daily pills and feed Howard in four portions of kibble, make another double latte, take Howard out to poop, bring him in and treat his ears with a fungus cleanser-preventer, treat him to a chondroitin, sit at the computer to check my email and record the morning temperature in the draft my blog. And today's routine has an added trip upstairs to place a bill on the printer-scanner, back downstairs to scan it to a file, enter the bill information in my spreadsheet, send the bill's due date and amount and scan to Chuck, and check for any recent payments that Chuck has made. That's why I sat writing at ten minutes after 7, "I've gotta hurry up if I wanna ride today. I still need to poop and dress for the ride. I've been tired this morning, not enough to keep from riding today, since it's supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow." So I pushed out of the chair, headed upstairs for—as they said in the 18th Century—"my toilette" that includes putting in my contact lenses, the poop, flossing and brushing teeth, applying D+T ointment, and trading the gym clothes for the riding kit. Downstairs, I assemble any stray items and cash into my backpack, decide what layers I need to wear and which to pack with, roll the bike out to the stoop, and close the door. Whew! finally ready, at 07:34 today, about 15 minutes later than what I think is optimal and about 10 minutes earlier than what I think is a point of baling out on the ride.


The clock times given are about 20 minutes off, as given on my bike computer.

07:55—departing from home. At my corner, a school bus was stopped to pick up students. I entered the intersection and turned to continue on Princeton, but stopped for the school bus. The driver waved me on, and pulled in his stop sign, which he realized was my reason for stopping. What a nice gesture.


From the Monument Avenue bridge, the Miami River level was a bit lower than yesterday. The forms of the flanks of the low dam were discernable underneath the flowing water. This has become a usual path during the flooding: the gravel path under the YMCA, sidewalk to the Main Street-Monument intersection, through Riverscape Park. The railing down to the river was flooded only to 2 feet above the bikeway.

08:08—passing the zig-zag up from the Mad River Bikeway. This is a notable minute less than yesterday—but an approximate time, since I noticed the computer only after about a quarter mile past the checkpoint. The Mad River bikeway was flooded again, but only to a point where the bikeway was just visible under the muddy water. Of course, still nothing to bike through. The Monument Avenue route had moments of disgusting truck exhaust, where diesel engines were idling at the Rumpke plant and other places. About a quarter mile after Findlay Avenue, after I signaled to turn onto the grass that leads to the above-river bikeway, a chugging hatchback driver ignored or misunderstood my signal and passed me. No big deal, since I noticed he had been on the left side of the road most of the long block, to avoid the big divots that Winter had taken out of the road.

08:22—passing the west gate to Eastwood Park. A minute more than yesterday. Run-off from the hills above the transition at Smithville and Springfield was completely fluid across the bikeway. No cross traffic at  Airway, and extremely light traffic at Burkhardt.

08:35—passing the trestle remains at Linden. A minute faster than yesterday. No traffic at Linden. Beyond the graffiti wall, I saw one of the regulars that I've come to know over several years of bike commuting. We've never stopped to talk, but I call him Double-Dog-Jason. This dark-haired man in his late 30s always has two dogs towing him along, and he always has a pair of flightline headphones that usually don't prevent him from saying hello. I've seen him walking south on Woodman, in part of the same circuit, and he is relatively exact in the timing of his walk. His return to a routine reminded me of others who should be again on this part of the bikeway soon: Millie and ...Ethel, Eunice? (two women in their 70s or 80s whose husbands have various health issues; at the moment the one who is more easily brought to visualization is withholding her name in my memory banks), Becky (an owner and walker of a pack of rescue dogs, including an old Lab and a St. Bernard), Gary and Amy (a father and daughter who make a daily tandem out-and-back to the Riverscape from this area). My thoughts have stayed with me to my crossing at Woodman, which had no traffic, and brought me to remember other unnamed regulars who I have frequently seen in the quarter mile from Woodman to Founders. The section seems easier, quicker, almost downhill, and I think that the ease comes from having had 40 minutes of warm-up riding. Something that I never learned to use while I was competing in my early 40s.

08:48—arriving at  work. Two minutes earlier than yesterday, and a minute less through the overall route. I've taken the ride up a bit in intensity, and still feel good, not drained.