Wednesday, 10 August 2011
It all seemed so labored this evening. I left my desk at 6:30, called Ch to alert him to a later arrival than usual, and wondered what is available to cook. Maybe a pizza with the Boboli shell? No, too much bread for Ch's taste. And he perhaps overate at lunch, since Russ was over for the afternoon. What else? Pasta with fresh pesto? Nah, there's probably not enough basil ready, and Ch might object to the pasta. So a fish grilled, and maybe a vegetable. See what's there when I get home. You would think that my running commentary on food would draw me away from cycling, but the dull ache of my laboring heart and leaden legs pulled me back to the work I was doing. The heavy traffic up and down Woodman, across Woodbine and Airway nagged at my attempts to reach above the labor of the ride.
Just some rides aren't pleasant at every moment. This was one. Lots of larger groups walking on the bikeway, some confused about which side of the way to clear toward, some barely even in control of the children in their horde. Finally, along the Mad River was a nicely open stretch, though the westerly winds made this, too, a slog. One pleasant highlight: I saw Rick-the-Walker again after a couple months' absence. And then below Riverscape was a group of 30 (or more!) young people using the steps, banks, and bikeway as part of their training program en masse.
Ride conditions
Temperature: 78 to 81°F at 17:45
Precipitation: none
Winds: 5 to 10 mph from the west
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time: 00:43:24 for 11.96 miles
Heart rate: 128 bpm HRave, 138 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 21 cyclists, 31 pedestrians, 1 dog
Playback of the ride
Originally this journal was a personal record of commuting by bicycle to work, and an occasional essay on commuting successfully and safely. Now retired and in no need to commute to work, I still use my bike for local errands and recreational rides, and I use this blog to advocate for alternative, renewable-energy transportation. Still riding safely too.
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Showing posts with label Rick-the-Walker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rick-the-Walker. Show all posts
10 August 2011
23 June 2011
Bike-commute day 42—to gym and almost home
Wednesday, 22 June 2011.
The weather was perfect as I left work, though the sky was filled with growing cumulo-congestus clouds and variable winds were buffeting the trees in the parking lot. Generally the wind was from the south, so I anticipated a quick ride up to Eastwood Park—enough time, I thought, to make a quick side trip to the gym and do some shoulder and arm exercises.
On my way to the gym from the Woodbine crossing, I saw a guy in his pickup who I had seen often working in his garden. I turned around for an introduction—his name is Scott—and a bit of information about each other. He recognized me from my passings to and from the gym, and mentioned his former use of a bike that now hangs on pegs in his garage, his promise to his wife that he might buy her a "recumbent tricycle," and his knowledge that the bikeway is so close. He also spoke of his trade recently of his gardening services for a window-installed air conditioner, and that the trade meant several hours per week of visiting his friend's home for the garden work. I mentioned my stop at the gym on my bike-commute, and he nodded in corroboration of what he assumed had been the case.
He was gone when I biked back from the gym, and the winds had kept their strength and direction, so I arrived at Eastwood Park in faster time than usual. The winds were not at all against me as I headed west-southwest along the Mad River, but the heavy cloud cover had turned ominous. I saw cumulo-nimbus forming above where I assumed Moraine lay, and possible wisps of rain falling in the area of Trotwood. With just the right timing, I could make it home before sprinkles dropped at home. I warned Rick the Walker as I passed him that he might not make his return before the storm.
As I dropped through the underpass to Findlay Street bridge, I noticed a severe wobbling in my front wheel, and I slowed to ease the angled response needed for the turn. The wobbling increased, and the front wheel softened as I slowed to a stop: the tire was flat. Well, that means I won't beat the storm home, even with the fastest of tube changes. Better call Chuck, since the storm could be severe. He was out shopping at the Siebenthaler Kroger, and I gave him my location for picking me up.
I walked the bike up to the corner of Monument and Findlay, where Chuck would expect to see me, and began to replace the tube. By the time I loosened the nuts, pulled off the wheel, pried off the tire bead, and replaced the tube, light sprinkles started to fall. As I thumbed the bead into the rim and pumped up the tire, the sprinkles had turned to a light rain. Worse weather was on its way from downtown, and I saw Chuck coming from the same direction.
I returned my tools to the seat pouch, packed my bike and the front tire separately into the back seat, and took the passenger seat. The storm unleashed itself as we left the gravel side lot, and became more and more ferocious as we headed west on Monument. Chuck was full of I-told-you-so about the day's prediction of rain and I-worry-about-you for the potentially unsafe riding conditions. I, defensive, argued that I, but for the flat, would have been home before the storm had reached this intensity. The topic shifted and returned and shifted again as we turned onto Salem and toward the last mile home.
Ride conditions
Temperature: 79 to 84°F at 17:15
Precipitation: none, until the flat, then an extremely heavy thunderstorm
Winds: 5 to 15 from the southwest
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves.
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time: 00:40:07 for 11.45 miles
Heart rate: 125 bpm HRave, 144 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 18+6 cyclists,* 2 pedestrians, 1 dog
Here is a playback of the ride.
*6 bikes parked or laid beside the bikeway, riders not seen
Postscript
I checked the tube replacement on Thursday morning, reseated the tube, and shook in a lubricating dose of baby powder. Some time after returning the wheel to the front fork and inflating to riding pressure, I heard a huge POP! and the tube had exploded the tire off the rim. So Thursday became a drive day.
The weather was perfect as I left work, though the sky was filled with growing cumulo-congestus clouds and variable winds were buffeting the trees in the parking lot. Generally the wind was from the south, so I anticipated a quick ride up to Eastwood Park—enough time, I thought, to make a quick side trip to the gym and do some shoulder and arm exercises.
On my way to the gym from the Woodbine crossing, I saw a guy in his pickup who I had seen often working in his garden. I turned around for an introduction—his name is Scott—and a bit of information about each other. He recognized me from my passings to and from the gym, and mentioned his former use of a bike that now hangs on pegs in his garage, his promise to his wife that he might buy her a "recumbent tricycle," and his knowledge that the bikeway is so close. He also spoke of his trade recently of his gardening services for a window-installed air conditioner, and that the trade meant several hours per week of visiting his friend's home for the garden work. I mentioned my stop at the gym on my bike-commute, and he nodded in corroboration of what he assumed had been the case.
He was gone when I biked back from the gym, and the winds had kept their strength and direction, so I arrived at Eastwood Park in faster time than usual. The winds were not at all against me as I headed west-southwest along the Mad River, but the heavy cloud cover had turned ominous. I saw cumulo-nimbus forming above where I assumed Moraine lay, and possible wisps of rain falling in the area of Trotwood. With just the right timing, I could make it home before sprinkles dropped at home. I warned Rick the Walker as I passed him that he might not make his return before the storm.
As I dropped through the underpass to Findlay Street bridge, I noticed a severe wobbling in my front wheel, and I slowed to ease the angled response needed for the turn. The wobbling increased, and the front wheel softened as I slowed to a stop: the tire was flat. Well, that means I won't beat the storm home, even with the fastest of tube changes. Better call Chuck, since the storm could be severe. He was out shopping at the Siebenthaler Kroger, and I gave him my location for picking me up.
I walked the bike up to the corner of Monument and Findlay, where Chuck would expect to see me, and began to replace the tube. By the time I loosened the nuts, pulled off the wheel, pried off the tire bead, and replaced the tube, light sprinkles started to fall. As I thumbed the bead into the rim and pumped up the tire, the sprinkles had turned to a light rain. Worse weather was on its way from downtown, and I saw Chuck coming from the same direction.
I returned my tools to the seat pouch, packed my bike and the front tire separately into the back seat, and took the passenger seat. The storm unleashed itself as we left the gravel side lot, and became more and more ferocious as we headed west on Monument. Chuck was full of I-told-you-so about the day's prediction of rain and I-worry-about-you for the potentially unsafe riding conditions. I, defensive, argued that I, but for the flat, would have been home before the storm had reached this intensity. The topic shifted and returned and shifted again as we turned onto Salem and toward the last mile home.
Ride conditions
Temperature: 79 to 84°F at 17:15
Precipitation: none, until the flat, then an extremely heavy thunderstorm
Winds: 5 to 15 from the southwest
Clothing: Skinsuit, ankle socks, open-finger gloves.
Bike: Lotus Legend fixed gear
Time: 00:40:07 for 11.45 miles
Heart rate: 125 bpm HRave, 144 bpm HRmax
Bikeway users: 18+6 cyclists,* 2 pedestrians, 1 dog
Here is a playback of the ride.
*6 bikes parked or laid beside the bikeway, riders not seen
Postscript
I checked the tube replacement on Thursday morning, reseated the tube, and shook in a lubricating dose of baby powder. Some time after returning the wheel to the front fork and inflating to riding pressure, I heard a huge POP! and the tube had exploded the tire off the rim. So Thursday became a drive day.
Labels:
79°F,
80°F,
81°F,
82°F,
83°F,
84°F,
Rick-the-Walker,
Scot the gardener
08 March 2011
Bike commute day 3, return home
Temperature: 52°F at 17:00 and at 18:30
Precipitation: none
Winds: none to light
Clothing: Top with 2 layers (Lycra longsleeve undershirt, skinsuit); Bottom only the skinsuit; ankle socks. Open-finger gloves. (Cool, still comfortable. A higher speed helped.)
Time: 0:46:50 for 12.5 miles
Bikeway users: 21 pedestrians, 18 cyclists, 7 dogs
Just before 5 p.m., I checked the online weather report. "Oh no! The radar shows light rains in Preble County. Gotta make my closing up quick and get out soon, to beat any 30 mph storm tour." As it was, I still didn't finish my workday until 5:20, and then I was on my way to the locker room to change to my kit.
17:51—depart from work, with a good catch of a green light at Research. Three oncoming cars nicely waited for me to cross before making their left turns. In this short leg still on Research Park streets, two "boiclists" were tooling along toward me on their small-frame bikes, and I whistled and greeted them. A few more cars were on their way home from work. Relatively lighttraffic as I crossed Woodman and Woodbine. Moderate traffic on Linden, which paused-stopped for my crossing.
18:03—trestle remains at Linden. Under the overgrown bikeway west of DPL's executivegolf course, a huge number of cyclists, some dozen or so, all ages, including a very cute young man in a motorized wheelchair, passed me going in the opposite direction. Maybe a class or club? They seemed surprised by me, almost oblivious to taking much of the width of the bikeway, but not in any aggressive way, rather out of joy of each other's company.
The Burkhardt crossing was busy, but cars stopped at the crosswalk. On the other hand, the heavytraffic at the Airway crossing absolutely refused to stop. I got off the bike, motioned at the crosswalk markings, held up my hand, and still motorists were zipping through in both lanes. In a break in traffic , I made it to the island. Raised my hand again, this time to the west-bound traffic , no result. Motioned at the crosswalk markings, no result. Then only when a break occurred, with perhaps a 100-foot opening, I stepped into the crosswalk, rolling the bike beside me. A white pickup pulled to a stop, and I waved thanks to him. Last year, I wrote the Riverside police about the need for monitoring and maybe ticketing traffic on Burkhardt and Airway. I've never seen a patrol car here, and motorists ignore the crossing with impunity. And with some flipping of birds. Both these streets can be problematic, though sometimes there must be courtesy dust in the air. Not today, at least here.
18:14—west gate to Eastwood Park. I pushed again here in the park, and the minute didn't click to 15 until I had crossed the creek and crested the rise to the old railway path. I noted the Mad River was still deeper and faster than usual, so I planned to take Monument again to bypass flooding. At the rise, I saw a regular bikeway user, Rick-the-Walker. I stopped as I reached him, noted to him I haven't seen him in the last days, and he wished for better weather to come soon. I was on my pedals again, and wished him good weather and hope in the coming Spring.
As I approached the open area east of Findlay street, I saw ahead of me the 17th cyclist of the day, heading off in the same direction as me, fully dressed in cold-season gear, red rear light flashing. It took almost 3/4 mile to catch him, and as I passed, I asked, "Have you taken this way in the past couple days?" By then, we had already passed underneath the Findlay Avenue bridge. He removed earbuds and quizzed me with a look, and I repeated my question. He said no, and I explained that it was likely flooded at the approach to Webster, and that the beginning of fence up above us was one of the last exits to Monument before being boxed in by steeper ridging, fences, and walls. I exited, but he kept on.
Along Monument, I stopped at Keowee for the light, and then was able to pedal through all the lights up to Main Street. I stopped there, happy to catch my breath.
18:24—passing the zig-zag up from the Mad River Bikeway, as I travel on Monument Avenue. Pedalled hard through the west half of downtown, and reached a red light at Riverview. The climb up Grafton hill was a bit hard, but better than yesterday. The crossing at Salem was against a red light, though I stopped long enough to see that notraffic on Salem was closer than a block. I didn't press so hard up the Bryn Mawr hill today.
18:37—arrive home, moderately out of breath. My time today was only a minute longer than yesterday's, and each of the legs was the same each day, except for the last one.
I had planned on going to Practice Yoga this evening, but I've written through the time needed to get there for the last class. Tomorrow, when rain is forecast, may be the better day for a yoga class. I'll do several asanas now before I prepare my dinner. Looking forward to pesce e pasta!
Precipitation: none
Winds: none to light
Clothing: Top with 2 layers (Lycra longsleeve undershirt, skinsuit); Bottom only the skinsuit; ankle socks. Open-finger gloves. (Cool, still comfortable. A higher speed helped.)
Time: 0:46:50 for 12.5 miles
Bikeway users: 21 pedestrians, 18 cyclists, 7 dogs
Just before 5 p.m., I checked the online weather report. "Oh no! The radar shows light rains in Preble County. Gotta make my closing up quick and get out soon, to beat any 30 mph storm tour." As it was, I still didn't finish my workday until 5:20, and then I was on my way to the locker room to change to my kit.
17:51—depart from work, with a good catch of a green light at Research. Three oncoming cars nicely waited for me to cross before making their left turns. In this short leg still on Research Park streets, two "boiclists" were tooling along toward me on their small-frame bikes, and I whistled and greeted them. A few more cars were on their way home from work. Relatively light
18:03—trestle remains at Linden. Under the overgrown bikeway west of DPL's executive
The Burkhardt crossing was busy, but cars stopped at the crosswalk. On the other hand, the heavy
18:14—west gate to Eastwood Park. I pushed again here in the park, and the minute didn't click to 15 until I had crossed the creek and crested the rise to the old railway path. I noted the Mad River was still deeper and faster than usual, so I planned to take Monument again to bypass flooding. At the rise, I saw a regular bikeway user, Rick-the-Walker. I stopped as I reached him, noted to him I haven't seen him in the last days, and he wished for better weather to come soon. I was on my pedals again, and wished him good weather and hope in the coming Spring.
As I approached the open area east of Findlay street, I saw ahead of me the 17th cyclist of the day, heading off in the same direction as me, fully dressed in cold-season gear, red rear light flashing. It took almost 3/4 mile to catch him, and as I passed, I asked, "Have you taken this way in the past couple days?" By then, we had already passed underneath the Findlay Avenue bridge. He removed earbuds and quizzed me with a look, and I repeated my question. He said no, and I explained that it was likely flooded at the approach to Webster, and that the beginning of fence up above us was one of the last exits to Monument before being boxed in by steeper ridging, fences, and walls. I exited, but he kept on.
Along Monument, I stopped at Keowee for the light, and then was able to pedal through all the lights up to Main Street. I stopped there, happy to catch my breath.
18:24—passing the zig-zag up from the Mad River Bikeway, as I travel on Monument Avenue. Pedalled hard through the west half of downtown, and reached a red light at Riverview. The climb up Grafton hill was a bit hard, but better than yesterday. The crossing at Salem was against a red light, though I stopped long enough to see that no
18:37—arrive home, moderately out of breath. My time today was only a minute longer than yesterday's, and each of the legs was the same each day, except for the last one.
I had planned on going to Practice Yoga this evening, but I've written through the time needed to get there for the last class. Tomorrow, when rain is forecast, may be the better day for a yoga class. I'll do several asanas now before I prepare my dinner. Looking forward to pesce e pasta!
Labels:
52°F,
Rick-the-Walker
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