they are NOT messing around!

Perhaps learning by pushing against boundaries is just a part of being human. As kids, we all fight against rules and we push limits set for us by parents, teachers, grandparents, etc., until we understand exactly where we stand in this big, confusing world. As older kids, it remains equally enticing to push against boundaries, to read a sign beginning with the word "NO" or containing the word "PROHIBITED," and then to go and do precisely the opposite. Just to see. How serious are those little signs? Does anyone actually care? Will anything ever happen to me if I don't follow that silly little sign?

Like I said, maybe it's just human.

I've always seen those signs posted on pedestrian malls that tell bicyclists to dismount and walk their bikes, but I guess I never really knew if anyone actually cared about them. Apparently they do. Either that, or I've just had a string of bad luck. Well, not that bad, really. Just enough to learn.

In Denver, pedaling down the bus lane of the 16th Street Mall, two cops called me over while I was stuck at a red light. They didn't give me a ticket, but they did write me a very official warning to let me know that, yes, they did in fact care about those dismount bicycle signs, and yes, they do actually write tickets that require the payment of punitive fees with actual money for not following this rule. Lesson learned.

In Boulder, after grabbing a quick bite to eat, I hopped back onto my bike, coasted probably 20 yards at most until getting back onto 14th. At the red light, a cop pulled up next to me, and told me that they regularly issue $50 penalties to people cycling on the mall. Even after arguing that I had only rolled a short way just to get onto the actual road, she told me, "20 yards, 50 bucks." Again, I lucked out with the warning, and I learned that some cops really do care about those dismount signs.

I don't know if this is really worth anything, but for what little it may be worth, I've definitely learned to avoid the pedestrian malls on my bike. There really are people – typically people with badges and the ability to write expensive tickets – who actually care about the dismount rules spelled out on those signs. In the long run, it's definitely easiest, fastest, and entirely pain-free to keep it simple and stick to the bike lanes.

Another One Bites the Dust

Well, it happened again. I broke my frame. That's makes two in the last few months. Granted, these weren't high end carbon frames, or some similarly expensive technology, just beater road frames. However, the lack of value the frames held didn't help offset the loss.

The former of these two fatalities, suffered its "coup de grace" upon impacting the front end of a Manhattan taxi cab. It happened one afternoon, while I was pushing the "red light window". I arrived at the intersection a bit too late, and got caught. The driver's side nose, of the front bumper, struck me just behind the right leg, slightly in front of the derailleur. There was a minor hold up while I picked myself up, and remounted my bike. The cabbie and I exchanged our usual scripts of accusatory expletives, and we were both on our way. No big deal, I thought.

What I didn't notice that day, were the two hair line cracks on my chainstays the cabbie left me with. I didn't become aware of them until about a week later, as I was riding the cobbles across Varick St. At first, I noticed a "bounce" to my bike, like an unfamiliar softness. Eventually, I began to sink, and my frame grew longer beneath me. I knew something was amiss.

Apparently, t

he tension of my chain acted as a fulcrum, that eventually pulled the chain stays apart.

The above photo was taken shortly after my bike entered "that great criterium in the sky".

The latter frame met its end in much the same way. However, this time, the death was more prolonged.

One day, while cruising down the top end of 7th avenue, I was somewhere in the mid 50's, about to time it through an intersection. Imagine a real life game of Frogger.

No one was going exceptionally fast, as the spirit and pleasantness of the day discouraged it. I was about to slip between two cabs, when all of a sudden, the one projected to be on my left side, slammed on his brakes, and I ran into the last 3 inches of his rear bumper. I went flying over the trunk, while my bike stayed put. I actually got up in time to see it fall over. I picked my bike up and gave it a once-over. Upon inspection there were no visible breaks or deep crimps. However, the impact of the crash had ever so slightly bent the head tube. The damage appeared minimal. Moreover, being a steel frame, I assumed it was fine and continued on, unaware of the cancer that now grew within my bike.

So, months later, today in fact, after tons of miles, working and commuting, the malignant tumor that was growing within, surfaced. This happened in the lamest of places, too. I had just clamped my ride down to a communal bike stand, in front of a bunch of bike nerds, with the intention of showing it off. There it was. The death rattle was heard by all. I was so embarrassed. I played it off as best I could, but I was horrified. How could I have not noticed this? It never made a sound until that day. But sure enough, it was curtains.

My frame near decapitation:

If you can't see it, its the obvious tear that runs along the top of the lug and across the body of the head tube. Over hundreds of miles, the slight imperfection in the head tube eventually developed into a serious weakness. One day, the stress became two much, and the frame was severed.

Currently, my bike is still in the "wake" stage of bike death.

Well, I guess these things just happen. If you ride a bike long enough, you come realize that it has a lifespan, and chances are, you will outride it. Whether or not you personified your bike in any way, at one time or another, it was a trusted friend that you depended on. Whether it was to make it to class or work on time, or just blow off some steam, it was there for you. Bikes have memories attached to them. Eventually, they carry sentimental value. To lose one, is enough to ruin your day. Especially when you have to take that bus ride of shame.

However, there is a secret guilty pleasure in losing a bike. You get to replace it.

the weight of guilt

This will be a bit of a confessional, so bear with me as I unload my guilt.

I often pride myself on being well-versed in the ways of traffic laws and bike-car relations. Yet I sometimes run red lights. Sometimes stop signs. I always get upset when car drivers cut me off. In these instances, I start yelling, ranting, raving, and foaming at the mouth about what idiots they are for not understanding traffic laws and for putting me at risk through their ignorance or refusal to follow these rules.

I'm feeling now like a hypocrite.

Months ago, while on a short bicycle tour, I ran a red light. It was a small side street, and I checked to be sure no cars were coming. So I rationalized it away, and rolled on through. When the light I had just run finally turned green, a woman in a car pulled up next to me, rolled down her window, and called me out on breaking the rules. "If you want to be on the streets, you've got to follow the rules like everybody else," she told me. My pride hurt, I wanted to fight back, to somehow make her wrong and me right, but in the end, I had to face it: she was right.

Just last night, I had a similar experience. Riding home along Folsom, I approached a fellow cyclist, who was waiting at the red light. Rather than stop, I passed him and zipped on through, the light turning green when I was about 3/4 of the way through the intersection. Thinking nothing of it, the cyclist soon caught up with me and asked me to not run red lights, especially when cars are present (which they were), because it gives cyclists a bad name. Again, my pride hurt, I began arguing with him, attempting to somehow twist the facts and place me in the right and he in the wrong. I was a real jerk. A punk.

So, first off, to that cyclist that I fought with: I apologize. Second off, and the main point here, cycling responsibly really is important for the cycling community. It not only allows us to ride safer (which in the long run provides the confidence to ride faster and harder), but it also presents a face of unified and responsible legitimacy to the rest of society. I know I'm definitely guilty of irresponsible biking from time to time (and I hope this confession will absolve me of my guilt), but trust me, in the long run it's best to simply avoid these problems by riding responsibly, because if nothing else, it hurts when that old lady in the Buick calls us out and we're forced to admit she's right.

Periodic Table of Cyclists

The physical world is comprised of various fundamental elements, organized by scientists for ease in understanding and conceptualizing into a periodic table. The cycling world may similarly be broken into its constituent and fundamental components. While this proves to be an ongoing study, the following represents a preliminary, and therefore largely cursory, effort at organizing these bicycle cultural elements into such a table...

Hr: The Hipster – most definitely rides fixed gear bicycles. While flashy color coordination, tight pants, ironic T-shirts, and large glasses may dazzle the eye, don't be fooled! – the bike behind the appearance is likely plagued by loose bearing surfaces and shoddy mechanics.

Pu: The Purist – like the Hipster, the cycling Purist may also ride a fixed gear, but the Purist will claim to have been riding in this manner for far longer than their Hipster counterparts. Also expect hardtail mountain bikes, rigid forks, and, seemingly paradoxically, 29er wheels.

Cr: The Cruiser – the Cruiser, regardless of actual location, is always at the beach. May often be found featuring recreational variations including costumes, lights, and electronic music playing devices.

Cm: The Commuter – covering a potentially wide range of bicycles, the Commuter is typically well-equipped with lights, fenders, racks, bags, sacks, rain gear, panniers, first aid kits, duct tape, old inner tubes, sleeping equipment, emergency food supplies, candles, and self-power-generating crank radios.

Re: The Recumbent – generally, a breed unto itself. The Recumbent refuses to conform with the uncomfortable and nonsensical norm of uprightness, and thus, tends to include flags, mirrors, and for the male Recumbent, long gray beards.

Rd: The Roadie – spandex, color coordination, all-around aerodynamics, the appearance of team membership, and hyper-concern regarding small measures of weight.

Fa: The Family – The Family stretches itself along bike lanes and paths in a veritable parade of jean shorts, dome helmets, tag-alongs, and trailers. Typically invokes smiles and happiness in viewers.

An: The Anarchist – appearing to share similarities with the Hipster, the Anarchist may ride either geared or fixed, but only a bicycle refurbished at the local DIY anti-establishmentarian co-op. Unlike the Hipster, however, the Anarchist's machine is most likely in fully working condition, allowing for the pedal-driven destruction of authority and the state.

Hs: The Hardcore Stoked – the Hardcore Stoked pedal ONLY downhill bikes bearing closer resemblance to motorcycles than bicycles. If they must ride away from sheer cliff faces or monster dirt jumps, expect them to be on the constant look-out for walls, stairwells, and cops.

Bs: The Department Store – typically noticed audibly before visually, the Department Store generally doesn't make it very far, and typically expends large amounts of energy to cover what little ground they do. Expect squeaks, plastic pie plates, bent derailleur hangers, and seized brakes.

Pt: The Pathlete – for a comprehensive review of the overly competitive cycling element known as the Pathlete, refer here.

Desperate Living: Coping with the Inability to Ride

Sickness. No, not the kind of "sickness" that ensues from one "busting" the latest triple ollie shifty front side nose-grab mule kick, but actual illness. Good old fashioned, debilitating, hyper contagious malady. Recently, I had my own bout with a particularly nasty strain of viral infection. Imagine if the flu and streptococcus had a child, and I was the babysitter. It wasn't pretty.I was bedridden for days. I missed multiple days of school and work. I was a leaky mass of self-pity and boredom. As I lay upon my altar of wadded Kleenex and empty Robitussin kegs, I longed for one of my roommates to "pull an Old Yeller" on me. It wasn't the assignments I would have to make up or the loss of hours at work that bothered me so much. Rather, it was my sedentary state that drove me to near dementia.

I am a very active person. Much of my activeness is derived from pedaling a bike. I spend a fair amount of time in the saddle; I commute by bike; I do long road rides; I climb short distances uphill. For me, riding a bike is an outlet. It gives me time to breath, sort things out, relax. My riding is as therapeutic as it is invigorating. When that outlet

is taken away, I become anxious, grouchy, even neurotic. So, when faced with this latest episode of infectious incapacity, I had to dig extra deep to self-preserve.

To help pass the time in bed, I borrowed a pile of old race movies from my local bike shop. This did little to ease my desire to ride. I found myself half heartedly mounting my Eddy Merckx while imagining going head to head with Erik Zabel in the finishing sprint of the Milan-San Remo. However, once the nausea and faint crept in I had to

secede and let "big E'' take it at the line. Phil Liggett was there, too, I think.

It's a funny thing to be passionate about something, especially pedaling a bicycle. The appeal of riding cannot be fully understood until you do it. Not only is it the kinesthetics involved; moving within the medium of mechanical advantage, but it's also the synergy with your machine. There's just something very satisfying about self-locomotion, whether it be shifting through a magazine of cogs, or simply rolling a huge gear around the track. I feel this connection every time I ride, with all my bikes. Some days, the bike feels like an extension of myself, responding almost involuntarily. Other days, we seem miles apart, in constant argument. Mostly, we tend to disagree on distance and gradient. Although, it's usually mewho's doing the complaining. The point is, I miss my bike.

As I near the end of my hill climb time trial to recovery, and my Z-Pac of steroids, those first

few days of fever induced hallucinations seem a distant memory. Following my disinclined return to school and work, the next step is to get back in the saddle. As I fantasize over the first commute to campus, I can only imagine the layers of anxiety it will unfold. Even that short distance will reawaken my legs, and whet my appetite for some real miles. I can't wait. Unfortunately, that is still a few days away. Until then, I am reduced to commuting by bus and envying my fellow Boulderites mounted atop two wheels. As they say in Green Bay, when speaking of Brett Favre, "enjoy it while you got it.'' Because, if it isn't the flu season or old man winter, those lovely Fall rides a finite experience.

Keep it greased!

it's a bike LANE!

There's a good reason it's called a bike lane. There's a good reason why these lanes are marked off with white paint. Why that white paint is the same paint used for all those other painted lines out toward the middle of the street. It's because a bike lane is a real-life lane of real-life traffic made up of real-life human travelers!

Anyone who has ever regularly ridden a bike has undoubtedly run into the problems of bike lanes not being respected as such. These problems primarily include car drivers who help themselves to right-hand turns without glancing behind them, kamikaze style left-hand turns which cut right across the bike lane with no thought by the drivers except for how quickly they can get through the intersection and on to McDonald's, and the always popular drivers-who-sneak-around-the-other-eight-cars-in-front-of-them-to-turn-right-at-a-red-light-but-who-then-can't-quite-fit-so-they-just-park-right-there (yes, that's their name) . . . in the bike lane!

All these scenarios are crazy because no car driver in his or her right mind would do these things to another car lane. Nobody would just suddenly cut across a whole lane of traffic to make a turn without using their blinker and carefully checking to be sure the lane they're about to cross is clear. No car driver would ever just decide to park at a red light with 70% of their car intruding into the lane next to them. Yet these things happen all the time to bike lanes, and every time they do, it puts a biker's safety in jeopardy.

Bikers, when following the laws and pedaling in designated bike lanes, are entitled to all the rights of a car driver. We all use the same roads, have our own lanes, follow the same laws, and therefore ought to be entitled to the same safety and consideration.

Respect all traffic lanes as such, and we can all just get along nicely. There's no need for bikers to ever get crunched by inattentive drivers. Finally, this respect goes both ways: if us bikers demand respect for our bike lanes, we have to use them properly as well, and that means hand signals, lights at night, and overall common sense. With that said, don't be discouraged from giving that car that just cut you off a nice, loud whack on the trunk and a shaking fist of fury!

Reasons Why Boulder Should Be #1

I know you're wondering...why hasn't Boulder been rated number one friendliest biking city in America? Minneapolis did it...http://www.bicyclingmag.com/news/featured-stories/1-bike-city-minneapolis

REASONS WHY WE SHOULD BE NUMBER ONE!!

1) 300+ days of sun! (Take THAT, Minneapolis!)

2) Lots and lots of: bike racks...Boulder began converting parking spots into bike rack spots a while ago. Boulder also has many bike-friendly businesses. Some restaurants in Boulder have bike-delivery, and many more businesses aren't too strict about letting cyclists bring their rides indoors for a while.

3) Cyclists in legislation. As of two years ago, Boulder finally voted a cyclist into legislation. He's doing his job. As of last year, bicycles are allowed to ride two-abreast in bike lanes, and the law has been bent to allow motor-vehicles to cross the double yellow in order to meet the required three foot distance rating when passing cyclists.

4) Bike lanes and trails to ride. Hellooo...we're in Colorado. Mountains, anyone?

5) Hasn't happened in Boulder yet, but I'm willing to bet that Boulder will follow Denver's views on bike theft and bump up the stakes a little. As of two years ago in Denver, those little Denver yuppies were spending so much money "being green" and buying such expensive bikes (instead of cars) that legislation in Denver was changed. If you steal a bike that costs as much as a car in Denver, you stole a car...at least in the eyes of the law. Class-two felony. Do it Boulder!

Reasons Why Boulder Isn't Number One (Yet):

1) Wasted college kids driving drunk in the middle of the day. Boulder will probably not be rated number one until kids aren't out for cyclist blood anymore.

2) Too much rivalry? The fixters vs. the spandex guys. Boulder will probably not be number one until we can suck it up and just get along.

3) Bike theft. Silly Trustafarian CU kids...I guess Daddy's wallet just can't supply that adrenaline rush.

Hmm. That's about it.

Maybe all we need is a little more culture...is anyone reading this? Come on, fellow cyclists. Unite for the common cause of number one.

Two-Nine or not Two-Nine?

A couple years ago, the lock securing my mountain bike was cut and my bike was stolen from my front porch. This was tragic. I had no mountain bike, and this meant that the following spring was spent researching and preparing to get a new one. In this research, I decided to take a look at the 29er craze. Just to clear up any possible confusion, a 29er is a mountain bike that uses 700c wheels instead of the usual 26" wheels. I heard all sorts of opinions ranging between the poles of: "it's a gimmick, and it'll disappear in a couple of years," to: "29ers are the greatest mountain bike idea ever – they're as good as riding full suspension!"

Given the wide variance of opinion, I decided to go out on a limb and give it a shot, and now that I've experienced the 29er first hand, I think it's safe to say that I'm a convert. I love the big wheels and the fatty tires. While the larger wheel size occasionally felt a little squirrelly in the beginning, especially when making hairpin turns or when cutting along switchbacks, I quickly adjusted and soon fell in love with the sensation that once those big beautiful wheels got rolling, there wasn't anything that was going to stop them! The larger wheel circumference really does allow riders to roll more easily and smoothly over obstacles, and while I won't go as far as to agree that it's like riding full-suspension, I will say that in the world of hardtails, 29ers are tough to beat. The one drawback to the larger wheels is that shorter riders (anyone significantly shorter than 6 feet tall) may feel uncomfortable riding a 29er.

So, as far as this mountain biker is concerned, here's the final verdict: any biker in the vicinity of 6 feet or taller should definitely give a 29er a shot. These bikes are not a gimmicky fad, but a great mountain bike design which really allows hardtail riders to pound the trails harder than ever before.

Amazing Grace

It was one of those days. . . My list of important things left undone for the day was taller than the stack of dishes threatening to topple out of the sink, and there was no way to take care of any of it because I had to take the bus down to work in Denver for the rest of the night. I was feeling flustered, but it became full-fledged frustration when I opened my backpack to find the soup and crackers I packed for dinner in a crumbly, pasty, gruel mess all over the place.

Pissed off and still a little bit hungry, I dragged my bike out of the bus's storage, got off at Union Station, and started pedaling furiously. After passing my third or fourth bus and beating cars off the line at another green light, cutting out in front of them to turn left, with the red sunset sunlight chasing me, and the road itself urging me on through intersection after intersection, I noticed a nice change taking place: a smile. I smiled. I looked up and around at the buildings of downtown Denver and smiled some more. I looked at the cars and buses behind me and smiled until it became a laugh. I owned this city! They couldn't stop me . . . weaving around cars, shooting in front of them, blasting past row after row of buildings and corners and people waiting for buses or maybe taxis, going wherever I wanted – these streets were mine! I pedaled even harder – but this time out of joy. The joy of the two-wheeled. Of the self-powered. Of the burning thighs, deep lungs, and undeniable FUN of cranking those pedals on a beautiful Colorado evening.

Amazing! Biking saved my day, and entirely transformed me from this:

to this:

I fell in love all over again, and the words of Anis Mojgani, one of the most beautiful human beings still looking at the stars while pedaling a bike, rushed through my bicycle-dosed brain: "Rock out like the streets are empty except for you, your bicycle, and your headphones!"

Pedal hard, rock out, and be happy.

Interview with a Non-Cyclist

Me: if you could ask any question about the cycling culture in Boulder, what would it be?

Non-cyclist: what's up with people commuting on "fixies"? I really don't get it...how are they good commuter bikes in any way?

Me:...I...don't...know...

And that's how the interview went. I really had no idea how to answer that question. I mean, how do you explain hipster style to a Boulderite non-cyclist? Why do they do anything they do? How is any part of their ride functional in any way? Number one, the pants. How can pants that tight be functional in any way for riding? Stretch pants or not...they defy the laws of physics. Friction? Never heard of it.

Let's actually look at the pants themselves...often trashed, stained, maybe some cigarette burns, wayyy too small. It would appear that the average fixie rider isn't able to buy new pants. But first glance at their fifteen-hundred dollar ride reveals the truth.

In any case, Boulder seems to me to be just too hilly to allow the fixie to cross over into the realm of the commuter. But I suppose to someone who lives the disposable, consumeristic life of a hipster, knees are just another commodity... I don't mean to be a hater, but

I bet this guy would have something to say------> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bSJoD3YQenE

The Pavement Saga

Check out this little article written by Alexis Madrigal in which the central role of bicyclists in the proliferation of paved roadways in America is discussed. His piece begins with this informative bit of history:

"The bicycle, quite literally, paved the road for automobiles. The explosive popularity of the human-powered, two-wheeled vehicle sparked road construction across the Western world’s cities. The League of American Wheelmen was a major vector for the political will necessary to build better roads with more than one million members (out of a mere 75 million people) at its peak. Sure they engaged in silliness like racing and bicycle polo (!) but at heart, the group was a potent, progressive social force that inadvertently helped bring about its own end by getting roads paved, thus making long distance 'touring' possible in automobiles."

As Madrigal mentioned, it is definitely ironic that the push for better bicycling infrastructure "inadvertently helped bring about its own end" and led to its most common and widespread enemy: the automobile.

Boulder has recently taken some interesting steps in returning paved roads to their bicycle-centered roots. Last month, the city began an important experiment in which certain car parking spaces along Pearl Street have been converted to bike racks.

This is a great first step in giving bicycles higher priority in our cities, and in viewing them as viable and legitimate means of daily transportation. Given the interesting historical role of bicycles, it is an interesting move toward the reclaiming of America's streets by the very social force which gave rise to paved roads in the first place. Let's be sure the cycling community stays strong and active so that these new racks stay always full of happily parked bikes. Let's work to return paved roads to their original purpose – more accessible and enjoyable bicycling!

Pathletes on the Prowl

Pathlete: An individual, normally a dirc if not dircish, who employs multi-use paths as an area to demonstrate athletic prowess.

The multi-use paths are a gift to Boulder residents as a place where anyone can exercise without the distraction or noise pollution of combustible engines. These sanctuaries from murderous four wheeled machines, in the opinion of myself, are taken for granted by many of the residents in Boulder. It should be noted that there is both an unwritten list of rules that pertains to bike paths and that certain actions should not be tolerated by the Republic of Boulder. With the introduction of this school year, the current rate of pathletes in the Boulder area is increasing at an exponential rate. It may be that the incoming freshman class is full of pathletes waiting to destroy the sanctity of the paths, or, the community as a whole needs to re-evaluate the unwritten, soon to be written, rules of the bike path. These rules vary from different bike types and ultimately must be handled on a personal basis.

Mountain Bikes

- Individuals who choose to ride knobby tires must abide by the following rules.

- 1. Just because it is possible to pop a wheelie etc. on the side of the trail does not make it necessary to jump off the side and land on small to larger dogs.

2. Trials riding is not allowed on the bike path (the intensity is too much for the of the public of the path).

3. Getting Stoked (a level of high enthusiasm usually resulting in copious fist pumping) should be limited to a minimum on the path.

Road Bikes

- A woman or man whose clothing of choice is tight lycra

1. Small ring only!! It is not necessary to hammer (goin fast) on the bike path

2. If you choose to play three sports in one, do not go into you aero bars on the path. Cow horns only.

3. The path is not for intervals, no training should be accumulated on the path.

4. The ability to go fast on the road does not mean you are a race car driver. Stick to your lane and not the apex.

Runners

- People who instead of using continuous tread, alternate rubber tread to the left and right side of the body.

1. Keep the headphone volume to a minimum, its good to have your senses open to what’s around you

2. Be weary of your knees. Buy a bicycle.

Recumbent/Lone wolves

- Keep your flag flying and stick to your thing

Proper technique to avoid Pathetes

1. Beware of all Tri-Athletes, they are not to be trusted on the path.

2. Have a bell at the ready for distracted runners and lycra clad roadies. If the bell doesn't work, emergency evacuation may be necessary.

3. While merging onto the path, look both ways and avoid boarding on blind spots.

4. Good Luck!

Abide by these rules and your inner pathlete will be suppressed.

reclaim our space

I was once walking down a sidewalk. I saw this on the wall. I really liked it. I took a picture of it. I really liked it so I put it on this blog. I hope others really like it. I hope you really like it.

This painting, beyond simply being a great way of showing love to the bicycle and the bicycle's rider, is especially thought-provoking. A bicycle seems to be a fitting image to be tagged onto a wall as street art since both this style of art and the bike itself are all about forcing us to rethink our spaces. Street art makes us rethink walls, sidewalks, bridges, bricks, and advertisements as things with the potential of doing something other than selling us stuff or encouraging us to buy stuff. It makes us reconsider what belongs to individuals and what belongs to the community.

Similarly, bicycles challenge us to rethink our spaces. If we stop and think about things, it's crazy how much of our resources are continually devoted to maintaining and supporting cars. An automatically assumed aspect of any building or any part of a city is the car -- roads sprawl everywhere to provide direct automobile access to everything, every building and every portion of the city must roll out huge slabs of concrete for parking lots and paint out infinite rows of parking spaces, and we automatically plan on making intense, costly, repetitive, and seemingly eternal rounds of construction and repairs for these pieces of car-based infrastructure. Now, let's compare all this to the bike. Take a look at any multi-use path in Boulder and there it is -- that's the vision of the infrastructure required by bicycles. Small, clean, easily maintained, and much more sustainable pathways.

Bicycling makes us all reconsider the ways we structure our living spaces, our neighborhoods, our communities, and our cities. It challenges the assumptions forced on us by cars through providing a legitimate alternative, and it makes us rethink how much of our spaces are thoughtlessly devoted to providing for and catering to the monstrous automobile machine.

We Demand Proof!

Many of us bike commuters often maintain that we actually make it to our daily destinations faster and more conveniently than our gas-pedal-pushing counterparts. This claim has been on the table long enough as simply a bold assertion, and well, we’ve all received some form of schooling for long enough to have become fully trained to demand proof. Empirical proof! With this in mind, I figured it was time for a little test. An experiment. A race.

To conduct this experiment, a cyclist and an automobilist were selected. Each was to leave from the exact same location at the exact same time and head for the exact same destination, in this case a specific classroom on the CU-Boulder campus, 2.6 miles away from the starting point. They were both directed to travel at the “usual pace” and to stick to their “usual route.” Admittedly the “usual pace” thing is a tough variable to really truly control, but that’s all right, in the real world, some sunrises inspire us to pedal faster than others anyway. And with that, BANG! the gun sounds, and they’re off!

Here’s what happened:

- the automobilist made it to the vicinity of campus five minutes before the cyclist
- the automobilist then had to find somewhere to park
- meanwhile, the cyclist, singing and whistling, pedaled to the chosen building
- the cyclist then locked the bike, and walked to the designated classroom
- the cyclist waited . . .
- because they spent all their money on gas and oil changes, the automobilist couldn’t afford to park ($136/semester on campus, $1.75/hr. parking garage, $0.25/10 minutes on campus meters, $1.25/hr. city of Boulder meters)

- consequently, the automobilist drove around in circles looking for free parking
- the automobilist finally parked
- the automobilist walked a few blocks to the building
- the automobilist made it to the designated classroom ten minutes after the cyclist

The final conclusion:

- although the automobilist initially beat the cyclist to the destination, all the real-life inconveniences and nonsensical sillinesses of driving a car around town (in this case primarily parking and the costs of paying to park, but we also have to consider traffic jams, accidents, gas fill-ups, the price of these fill-ups, noxious emissions, breakdowns, the cost of fixing these breakdowns, and overall unwieldiness) set the automobilist forever, and irreversibly, behind the cyclist.



Three cheers for bicycles!

Hip-Hip-Hooray! Hip-Hip-Hooray! Hip-Hip-Hooray!

An Unofficial Epic

A really amazing aspect of living near a bunch of mountain bike trails is the ability to piece together multiple trails and trail segments to create your own epic ride. Colorado's Front Range is a great place to do this, as you can typically find at least a few quality trails within easy biking distance of cities. This is definitely true of Boulder, and with that said, here’s the skeleton of an epic ride, so check this one out, but don’t feel locked in – get out, explore, and create your own!

The rough outline of this ride will take you from Boulder to Lyons and back, primarily on singletrack. The different trails mentioned here cover a range of technical and physical difficulties. Again, this is just a basic framework, so there will be many ways to change, alter, lengthen, or shorten the ride depending on what you’re looking for. There are also maps that correspond to each segment of the ride included below. Enjoy!

1. From Boulder (28th and Iris), pedal north on Highway 36 toward Lyons for seven miles. Turn left on Lefthand Canyon Drive. After .7 miles, turn right onto Geer Canyon Drive. You will see a big brown sign for Heil Valley Ranch. Follow the dirt road until you get to the parking lot. Follow signs to the Wapiti Trailhead and begin a gradual climb on singletrack.

2. The Wapiti Trail very gradually rolls through some nice wooded areas, gaining 822 feet over 2.5 miles. At the top, stay to the right to merge onto the Wild Turkey trail. Enjoy a brief descent before intersecting with the Picture Rock Trail. Again stay right and pedal down this 5.2 mile trail. At the bottom of Picture Rock, take the small dirt path which juts off to the right past the high school and into Bohn Park. Head through the park and into downtown Lyons. Now would be a good time to stop at Oskar Blues for a drink or a bite to eat.

3. Pedal through Lyons and turn onto Highway 36 West, heading toward Estes Park. After .6 miles, turn left on Apple Valley Road, and follow this to Antelope Drive. Again turn left and this will take you to the Hall Ranch trailhead. From here, begin climbing until meeting with the main Hall Ranch trail. Go past the Bitterbrush Trail to complete the Nelson Loop. Now that the loop is finished, turn right and head down the Bitterbrush Trail – enjoy the super fun, technical rocky descent!

4. After completing Hall Ranch via Bitterbrush Trail, you should be back at the parking lot just off Highway 7. Turn left on this highway heading back toward Lyons, but before making it all the way back to town, take a right onto Old St. Vrain Road. Make one more left onto Red Gulch Road, and you will be back at the bottom of Picture Rock Trail. Climb up into Heil Valley Ranch and use the signs to map out your return to Wapiti Trail and the trailhead.

5. Now that you’ve pedaled your way back through Heil Valley and Wapiti, you’ve returned to the parking lot. All you have left is the ride back into Boulder, at which point it’s time for a little reward – you just finished an unofficial epic! Go get a drink, a burger, a veggie burger, a hot tub, or whatever you need to relax.

Note: The route outlined here makes basically a giant lariat with Hall Ranch providing the distant loop portion. The actual overall length of the ride will depend on your own variations and choices of directions to take – there are many options to lengthen and shorten the ride, especially at Hall Ranch and Heil Valley, but the total distance of the ride, as listed, is 47 miles. Hope this gets you started on creating and riding your own epic trails!

Maps:

1. Heil Valley Ranch

2. Hall Ranch

I Can't Get No Respect

I often consider putting some horsepower between my legs and joining the motorcycle world. What a feeling it must be, zipping the highways, wind in your hair, girl on your back. But where did the biker image come from; did it emerge when Bob Dylan burned down Highway 61, or maybe right after Hunter S. Thompson crossed the line in Hell’s Angels? Hard to say, for now I’ll remain pedal-powered, but how can we (cyclists') elevate our image and promote ourselves as “cool.”

Should we all make vrummmm vrummmm noises while speeding down mountains (something I already do)? Maybe we could have our own bars, gangs, and “turf,” a place to gather and reassure ourselves that we’re cool cats on a two-wheeled mission. I feel we need to cultivate a badass image, instead of the 40 Year Old Virgin portrayal; because let’s face it, the bicycle gets around.

I’m also a bit disenchanted with this hipster business. To me, hipsters will stop riding bicycles when the next fad comes around, my guess, Razor Scooters. Though they surely promote the bicycle, the hipster flag flies directly in the face of what the bicycles all about for me.

I observe the bicycle being about non-attachment, slowed agenda, and reckless abandonment; not cardigans, scarves, and gourmet coffee houses. The hipsters muddy the waters, showing main-stream that the cyclists’ still a nerd.

I don’t desire a world of Mad Max bicyclists’; I’m just looking for a little respect. The bike deserves a fair reputation. So what we lack a motor, that doesn’t mean cyclists’ should be represented as wimps. I’ll die happy when a kid turns to his or her mom and says,”Mommy… when I grow up, may I ride a bicycle.”

Encouraging Visions

Boulder, here’s a big thumbs up! You deserve it. One of the greatest and most amazing things about this little city is the fact that (at least when the weather’s warm) there are actually enough cyclists out riding at the same time that we create bike traffic – yes, traffic of bikes.

Cruising down Folsom and seeing lines of cyclists stretching back from the red light ahead of me is a beautiful sight. Beautiful to the brink of tears . . . well if not that far, at least to the point of providing brief glimpses of the biking world to be. Truly, these little bicycle traffic jams of promise give me encouraging visions of what our world, when driven by legs and two wheels (or I guess also one, and maybe even three), could look like:

Cruising down Folsom and seeing lines of cyclists in front of me, there are no colored lights. There are no traffic lights, only smiling rolling people. They are singing. Music is always playing like a soundtrack in a movie about cities filled with bikes. The lightning bugs are everywhere, and on the corner, that dog is dancing the merengue. It is always dancing the merengue (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nc9xq-TVyHI). The music of the dancing dog is not interrupted because there are no more squeaky brakes or grinding jumpy derailleurs. There are only greasy chains and brightly ringing bells and lightning bugs and sunshine. Plenty of mustachios blowing in the breeze and bike-blended smoothies for everyone. The whole earth is blue and green and the shooting stars are brighter than the fireworks. Cruising down Folsom and seeing lines of cyclists stretching out in front of me, there are only people and bikes.

Bicycle traffic is inspiring because it shows, in a literal, physical way, that biking on a daily basis as a mode of transportation is not only possible, but that it’s happening – people really do get around this way. Keep up the good work right here in Boulder, as well as in any other city, town, village, or hamlet you happen to ride through. Your bicycling presence shows us all what’s possible. Ride smart, ride safe, and pedal hard!

How's this for a retirement plan?

Step one: go to www.43bikes.com

Step two: be jealous.

This website was started by a bike mechanic from Tucson, Arizona, who goes by the name of "Mookie" to showcase his 43-strong bicycle collection. Currently, Mookie makes his residence in Boulder, Colorado.

Staff pick: the Bowden Spacelander (1960, reissued 1997).

"Mookie" makes an honest effort to ride all of this bikes, when they're not in storage. Otherwise, he "reluctantly" sells them, but his latest project has been to find space for display of the "Mookenheim Bicycle Collection", which has been in progress for pretty much his entire life.

When asked "Why 43?", Mookie replies, "it's my favorite number". There you have it!

Some other staff picks:

The Custom Pegoretti (2000):

The Schwinn King Sting Mountain Bike (1981):

The Walton (1987):