Archive for General

These are the times that try a cyclist’s soul

December 19, 2008 / / One comment

Don’t get me wrong. I love the holidays.

But every year, I promise myself that I’ll stay in shape and keep riding through the holidays. And every year, something gets in the way.

Like couple years ago, when I had more work than I could possibly handle and not nearly enough time to do it. Or last year, when I was recovering from the injuries suffered in the infamous beachfront bee encounter, and under strict orders not to exercise until after the 1st.

This year, it’s been a combination of things.

From a couple weeks worth of on-site work that kept me tied up for the first part of the month, to physical therapy sessions to overcome the last lingering effects of my injuries from last year. Not to mention the recent — and predicted forthcoming — rains. As well as the need to place yet another toll-free call to Bangalore to wrestle with Earthlink’s technical support over my recently intermittent internet service, which has developed the nasty habit of simply ceasing operations every few minutes.

And then, of course, there are the myriad demands of the holiday’s themselves. For instance, this would have been a great day for a ride. A little cool, perhaps, but certainly better than riders elsewhere have to contend with this time of year (although discretion could come into play at some point).

Instead, I find myself digging out the steam cleaner, and taking another pass at reviving the carpet our landlord should have replaced years ago, before the relatives pop over for Christmas brunch. That follows a few days of excavating and erecting holiday decorations, and scrubbing the tile in the kitchen and bathrooms to remove the wax that makes it look clean and shiny.

I realize all you single guys are wondering why I would go to such trouble. But anyone who has been married understands that the motivation lies less in cleanliness than with continued connubial bliss.  And that the first stage of ensuring a happy holiday season is ensuring a happy spouse.

And that, in my case, means clean floors.

Of course, there’s always the possibility that I’ll get out on my bike next week if the weather allows. If not, as the primary pastry chef in our extended family, it will provide the ideal opportunity for a little holiday baking. Because it’s just not Christmas without a plateful of cookies tempting you into a week’s worth of caloric intake in a single sitting.

And I may take some down to the alley behind our building, along with a few extra coats and blankets. Because, as much as I may miss riding right now, I know I’ll be back on the bike soon. And as hard as this year has been, there are a lot of people who are a lot worse off.

Including some whose only form of transportation is a shopping cart.

 

The perfect gift for those kids who can’t decide whether to ask Santa for a bike or a pony — if you don’t mind the risk of psychological damage that could keep them in therapy for life. Stephen Box reviews the year in transportation, and calls on the city to actually live up to the recently passed Cyclist’s Bill of Rights — particularly the requirement for an educated police force that understands and respects our rights. After a number of near-misses, Will succeeds in his one-man canine rescue. Timur starts a conversation about why S.F. got it right when it comes to cycling, whereas L.A. got it so very wrong. And everyone seems to be talking about L.A. Magazine’s exploration of the local bike culture. Maybe once Christmas is over, I may actually get a chance to read it.

Category: General / Tags: , , ,

The beauty of vulnerability

December 16, 2008 / / One comment

Awhile back, Timur wrote — beautifully, I might add — about vulnerability.

It’s one of my favorite posts, one I’ve referred back to many times and linked to more than once. I suppose one reason it resonates so strongly with me, aside from the infinite wisdom and good taste he demonstrates in quoting yours truly, is the way he captures the vulnerability we all experience as cyclists, and turns it into a positive — that the things that make us vulnerable are the same things that provide such a unique experience of our city, and our world. An experience that cannot be shared from behind the wheel of a car.

I suppose that’s one of the many reasons it bothers me to see a cyclist wearing headphones. Aside from the added, unnecessary risk of being unable to hear the sounds that could the rider’s life, I don’t understand the needless disconnection from the sounds around them.

And as much as I love music, I can’t understand why anyone would choose even the most vivid and vibrant playlist, rather than experience the world in which they live.

But that’s just me, I guess.

What started me thinking about Timur’s post was reading about this.

The author, Brayj, is someone I’ve never met. Yet, like many others in the local biking blogoshpere, someone I feel like I know in some ethereal cyber way. He tends to comment more than he posts himself; when I see his screen name in the comment section, I always make a point of reading it — he has a skill for cutting to the heart of a matter, in a way that often brings a smile, if not outright laughter.

And this world could use a little more levity.

Having been there myself, I would guess he keeps turning this incident over in his mind, analyzing the steps that brought him there — from a crippled bike that prevented any attempt at escape, to being alone at a late hour in a dodgy neighborhood.

Of course, it’s easy to second guess. But avoiding such situations would require a degree of omniscience the gods have not seen fit to bless us mortals with. In this world, even the most innocent action or seemingly benign decision can lead to unexpected consequences. And the worst things can happen in the best neighborhoods, any time of day.

In my case, it happened when I was in my 20s, working on the edge of a minority neighborhood in the deep south, at a time and place when races seldom mixed. As I entered the store one night, I struck up a conversation with a couple of young men who were coming in, laughing and joking with them — even holding the door open for them. Right up to the point that they pulled out a couple of very large guns and demanded all the money in the store.

Suddenly, they didn’t seem so friendly anymore. Especially when they started arguing back and forth about whether or not to shoot me. One of them — the one holding the large Glock to the back of my head — wanted to know what it felt like to “kill a white guy.” The other one, who I instantly took a liking to, just wanted to take the money and run.

Since they couldn’t make up their minds, I tried to take control of the situation, in whatever limited way I could. So I handed them my wallet, and said I was just going to walk away without looking back. Then I took a few steps, waiting for that bullet to enter my brain, and wondering what it would feel like to die. But after a few seconds, I heard the sound of footsteps running away behind me, and knew I was going to make it through another day.

As it turned out, I was lucky to meet them at the beginning of their crime spree. A couple nights later, another store was robbed by two men matching the same description; the clerk was pistol-whipped and left with permanent injuries. They were finally caught after a half-dozen increasingly violent robberies, including the final one, in which the clerk — a white guy — was shot for no apparent reason.

I spent a lot of time reexamining the events leading up to that moment from every possible angle, over and over again. And it was very tempting to just pack up and leave, and never allow myself to be that vulnerable again.

But I would have missed out on some of the best experiences of my life. Like hearing a gospel choir in an all-black church, and being invited to join them for the church supper that followed — some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. Or more than once, being the only white face in a blues club owned by the legendary Tabby Thomas. Not to mention some of the best friends I’ve ever had.

So I ended up taking the opposite approach, and allowed myself to experience that vulnerability, in my work and in life, in love and on my bike. To experience life as deeply and fully as possible, wherever that may take me.

Over the years, I’ve paid the price in heartbreak and scars, and had to pick myself back up more than once. But as I’ve also had rare and precious moments of genuine transcendence — experiences that made every bump and bruise along the way more than worthwhile.

Of course, now that I’m married, I try to be more careful. I spend more time evaluating which risks are worth taking, because I have more to lose, and a good woman who expects me to make it back home, in one piece, at the end of the day.

But I will never give up that vulnerability, that willingness to accept the risks and suffer the consequences, in order to have those experiences and that intimate connection with life, and the world around me.

And maybe I’m wrong.

But I have a feeling that once the dust settles, Brayj will make the same choice.

 

Will lights up the annual Toy Ride. Literally. Los Altos backs off on an effort to illegally ban bikes from a popular cycling route. Our local Bike Snob questions who would pony up for this ride for sale on Craigslist. While our city bike planners struggle to put a workable cycling network together, a nationwide bike net it taking shape. Finally, here’s your chance to be the new Bike Coordinator for the Los Angeles Department of Transportation.

Category: General / Tags: , , , ,

My next post, in which I continue from the last post

December 11, 2008 / / Comments Off on My next post, in which I continue from the last post

Over the years, I’ve taken a lot of supplements.

Take creatine, for instance. I did. And it was one of the few that actually seemed to work.

Creatine, which is also created naturally in the body, helps build muscle by giving your muscles a little extra boost. For instance, if you can usually lift 100 pounds, you might be able to do 110 or 115, or maybe do a few more reps.

Translated to bicycling, it won’t help you go faster or farther, but it may give you a little help sprinting or getting up that hill, which could help build up your muscles so you can go faster or farther later.

The only downside I noticed was that it made me a little thirstier. In fact, I may try it again this winter to build my strength back up to where it was before the infamous beachfront bee encounter.

On the other hand, HMB and Pyruvate, which were supposed to help build lean muscle, didn’t seem to do anything at all. Neither did CLA, which was supposed to help burn body fat and convert it to energy. In fact, I lost more weight after I quit taking it — perhaps the 12-tablet daily dosage added an the extra 120 calories to my diet.

L-Glutamine was supposed to help my muscles recover from a hard ride, reducing aching and cramps, and helping them bounce back so I could ride just as hard the next day.

But it did was make me constipated.

And I used to take garlic tablets, for its reputed benefits in managing cholesterol and preventing illness — as well as its legendary anti-vampire properties — but quit following my accident, since garlic is a blood thinner, and may have contributed to me nearly bleeding out following my accident. That’s also why I stopped taking aspirin before a ride.

These days, I tend to take a more natural approach to nutrition.

Now before I ride or go to the gym, I’ll make a smoothie with low-fat yogurt, berries, pineapple, banana, spinach, carrots and broccoli, as well as milk and orange-tangerine juice. It tastes better than it sounds, and gives me a meal high in antioxidants, fiber and natural fruit sugars, for a long-lasting energy boost without the crash that comes from processed sugar. The banana also gives me a shot of potassium to avoid cramping on long rides. And the fact that I get an entire day’s worth of fruits and vegetables in a single serving doesn’t hurt, either.

After my ride, I’ll have a whey shake with added amino acids. The whey protein feeds my muscles, while the aminos help prevent those miserable leg cramps and muscle pains that used to take me hours to recover from. Now just have a quick drink, take a shower and I’m good to go.

No aches. No pains. No cramps.

I also carry a Kashi granola bar and a box of raisins with me when I ride. If I get hungry, the granola bar will keep me going for another hour or two, with no processed sugar and just 120 calories. And I started packing the raisins after reading in Men’s Health that they were just as effective as commercial gels and bars in raising energy levels, with half the calories — and a fraction of the cost.

Of course, I still take a few supplements, but more for general health these days.

For instance, I’ve taken glucosamine and chondroitin for my arthritic right knee for nearly a decade. I stopped taking them for several months recently after questioning whether they were doing any good; however, an increase in knee pain convinced me otherwise.

I also take MSM, a natural anti-inflammatory, which, for me at least, controls my knee pain more effectively than NSAIDS like aspirin and ibuprofen, without the side effects.

I started taking Quercetin after reading the results of two studies; one showing that athletes who took 1000 mg daily had a significantly reduced rate of respiratory infections, while the other showed that cyclists who took a similar amount increased endurance by 5% — which may not sound like much, but an extra 5% can make a huge difference at the end of a long ride.

Then there are things like Cinnamon, which has been shown to lower trigylceride levels; Cayenne, which helps lower cholesterol and improve circulation; Green Tea, which improves the ratio of LDL (bad cholesterol) to HDL (good cholesterol); and Turmeric, which has shown promise as everything from an anti-inflammatory to an anti-carcinogen.

Which just goes to show that the right foods really could save your life.

 

Damien at Streetsblog reports the good doctor’s case is proceeding through the legal system, while SoapBox LA gives a detailed rundown of the hearing; not to be too cynical, but I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t plead out for probation. Evidently, Ballona Creek isn’t the area’s only deadly bike path. Thanks to Los Angeles Rides for providing links to the links for this weekend’s Toy Ride and Holiday Beer Ride. Will witnesses the intersection of hipster biker and bus. Guess which one lost? And Illuminate LA provides another perspective on the bike licensing issue.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,

My latest post, in which I admit to doping

December 9, 2008 / / 3 comments

There was a time in my life, not so long ago — okay, maybe longer than I care to admit — when cycling was my life.

It was right after my starving writer phase, which, as it turns out, isn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds when you’re the one starving. And since no one wanted to read my writing – or more precisely, no one wanted to pay me so other people could read my writing (whoa, déjà vu!) – I shifted my focus to something that paid every bit as well.

So for the next 6 months or so, I rode my bike.

I built my own wheels. Stripped my bike down to the bearings and rebuilt it from the ground up to make sure every part was lubed, tightened and adjusted to perfection. I stretched. I read about cycling. I dreamed about cycling.

And I rode. At least 50 miles a day, every day. Other than the occasional attentions of a cute little pastry chef, that was my life, from the time I got up until I slid my aching thighs back into bed.

And I would have snorted peanut butter, black tar heroin or thermonuclear waste if I thought it would make me a better rider.

I’ve been thinking about that lately, after our local Bike Snob pointed out yet another cyclist caught doping, on a team dedicated to riders with questionable reps.

I’ve written before about my disappointment when Floyd Landis lost his appeal, even though my initial reaction, as I watched him race, was that he had to be on something to rebound the way he did after bonking so badly the day before.

It also broke my heart when fellow Colorado boy Tyler Hamilton was busted. And I’ve long wanted to believe that Lance Armstrong is merely super-human, despite the insistence of the French, as well as Greg LeMond’s apparent insistence that he was the only clean Tour de France winner since Maurice Garin crossed the finish line in 1903.

(Am I the only one to notice that only Americans with names starting with L are allowed to win le Tour? Which means I’ll be putting my money on Levi Leipheimer if Astana can get back in.)

Then again, who’s to say that the great racers of the pre-testing era, like Bernard Hinault or the legendary Eddy Merckx, weren’t on something themselves? There’s no reason to believe they were, of course, just as there’s no proof they weren’t, other than the fact that they dominated their eras every bit as much as Armstrong did his.

But they weren’t tested, so we’ll never know for sure. And even getting repeatedly tested over a seven year period doesn’t seem to convince some people.

But then, that’s what we do. We take things.

Because if there’s something we think will make us ride a little better, a little farther, a little faster, we’ll try it. Whether it’s Lance Armstrong’s energy drink or a shot of gel for that extra boost in the middle of a ride.

Don’t believe me? Just check out the checkout counter of your nearest bike shop, and count the number or gels, bars, shots and other assorted sugar-based supplements. Or pick up a copy of any cycling magazine and see if the supplement ads outnumber the bike ads this month.

It just seems to me that there’s not a lot of difference between the creatine & amino shakes I downed back then, and doping with EPO or testosterone. One is legal, while the others aren’t. But they all build strength and boost performance.

It’s just a matter of degree.

Timur explores downtown, while a group of riders take a slightly longer tour around the city. Will manages to get back home from Newport Beach car free, despite a series of rail-based misadventures. And this just in, Damien and Gary announces that the Cyclist’s Bill of Rights has been passed by the L.A. City Council, not that it will mean anything if our local bureaucrats don’t pay any attention to the city leaders. Still, we all owe a big round of thanks to the Bike Writers Collective, who not only kicked it all off, but pushed it over the goal line.

Thank you, guys. We owe you.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

My latest post, in which I admit to doping

December 9, 2008 / / 3 comments

There was a time in my life, not so long ago — okay, maybe longer than I care to admit — when cycling was my life.

It was right after my starving writer phase, which, as it turns out, isn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds when you’re the one starving. And since no one wanted to read my writing – or more precisely, no one wanted to pay me so other people could read my writing (whoa, déjà vu!) – I shifted my focus to something that paid every bit as well.

So for the next 6 months or so, I rode my bike.

I built my own wheels. Stripped my bike down to the bearings and rebuilt it from the ground up to make sure every part was lubed, tightened and adjusted to perfection. I stretched. I read about cycling. I dreamed about cycling.

And I rode. At least 50 miles a day, every day. Other than the occasional attentions of a cute little pastry chef, that was my life, from the time I got up until I slid my aching thighs back into bed.

And I would have snorted peanut butter, black tar heroin or thermonuclear waste if I thought it would make me a better rider.

I’ve been thinking about that lately, after our local Bike Snob pointed out yet another cyclist caught doping, on a team dedicated to riders with questionable reps.

I’ve written before about my disappointment when Floyd Landis lost his appeal, even though my initial reaction, as I watched him race, was that he had to be on something to rebound the way he did after bonking so badly the day before.

It also broke my heart when fellow Colorado boy Tyler Hamilton was busted. And I’ve long wanted to believe that Lance Armstrong is merely super-human, despite the insistence of the French, as well as Greg LeMond’s apparent insistence that he was the only clean Tour de France winner since Maurice Garin crossed the finish line in 1903.

(Am I the only one to notice that only Americans with names starting with L are allowed to win le Tour? Which means I’ll be putting my money on Levi Leipheimer if Astana can get back in.)

Then again, who’s to say that the great racers of the pre-testing era, like Bernard Hinault or the legendary Eddy Merckx, weren’t on something themselves? There’s no reason to believe they were, of course, just as there’s no proof they weren’t, other than the fact that they dominated their eras every bit as much as Armstrong did his.

But they weren’t tested, so we’ll never know for sure. And even getting repeatedly tested over a seven year period doesn’t seem to convince some people.

But then, that’s what we do. We take things.

Because if there’s something we think will make us ride a little better, a little farther, a little faster, we’ll try it. Whether it’s Lance Armstrong’s energy drink or a shot of gel for that extra boost in the middle of a ride.

Don’t believe me? Just check out the checkout counter of your nearest bike shop, and count the number or gels, bars, shots and other assorted sugar-based supplements. Or pick up a copy of any cycling magazine and see if the supplement ads outnumber the bike ads this month.

It just seems to me that there’s not a lot of difference between the creatine & amino shakes I downed back then, and doping with EPO or testosterone. One is legal, while the others aren’t. But they all build strength and boost performance.

It’s just a matter of degree.

Timur explores downtown, while a group of riders take a slightly longer tour around the city. Will manages to get back home from Newport Beach car free, despite a series of rail-based misadventures. And this just in, Damien and Gary announces that the Cyclist’s Bill of Rights has been passed by the L.A. City Council, not that it will mean anything if our local bureaucrats don’t pay any attention to the city leaders. Still, we all owe a big round of thanks to the Bike Writers Collective, who not only kicked it all off, but pushed it over the goal line.

Thank you, guys. We owe you.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

My latest post, in which I admit to doping

December 9, 2008 / / 3 comments

There was a time in my life, not so long ago — okay, maybe longer than I care to admit — when cycling was my life.

It was right after my starving writer phase, which, as it turns out, isn’t nearly as romantic as it sounds when you’re the one starving. And since no one wanted to read my writing – or more precisely, no one wanted to pay me so other people could read my writing (whoa, déjà vu!) – I shifted my focus to something that paid every bit as well.

So for the next 6 months or so, I rode my bike.

I built my own wheels. Stripped my bike down to the bearings and rebuilt it from the ground up to make sure every part was lubed, tightened and adjusted to perfection. I stretched. I read about cycling. I dreamed about cycling.

And I rode. At least 50 miles a day, every day. Other than the occasional attentions of a cute little pastry chef, that was my life, from the time I got up until I slid my aching thighs back into bed.

And I would have snorted peanut butter, black tar heroin or thermonuclear waste if I thought it would make me a better rider.

I’ve been thinking about that lately, after our local Bike Snob pointed out yet another cyclist caught doping, on a team dedicated to riders with questionable reps.

I’ve written before about my disappointment when Floyd Landis lost his appeal, even though my initial reaction, as I watched him race, was that he had to be on something to rebound the way he did after bonking so badly the day before.

It also broke my heart when fellow Colorado boy Tyler Hamilton was busted. And I’ve long wanted to believe that Lance Armstrong is merely super-human, despite the insistence of the French, as well as Greg LeMond’s apparent insistence that he was the only clean Tour de France winner since Maurice Garin crossed the finish line in 1903.

(Am I the only one to notice that only Americans with names starting with L are allowed to win le Tour? Which means I’ll be putting my money on Levi Leipheimer if Astana can get back in.)

Then again, who’s to say that the great racers of the pre-testing era, like Bernard Hinault or the legendary Eddy Merckx, weren’t on something themselves? There’s no reason to believe they were, of course, just as there’s no proof they weren’t, other than the fact that they dominated their eras every bit as much as Armstrong did his.

But they weren’t tested, so we’ll never know for sure. And even getting repeatedly tested over a seven year period doesn’t seem to convince some people.

But then, that’s what we do. We take things.

Because if there’s something we think will make us ride a little better, a little farther, a little faster, we’ll try it. Whether it’s Lance Armstrong’s energy drink or a shot of gel for that extra boost in the middle of a ride.

Don’t believe me? Just check out the checkout counter of your nearest bike shop, and count the number or gels, bars, shots and other assorted sugar-based supplements. Or pick up a copy of any cycling magazine and see if the supplement ads outnumber the bike ads this month.

It just seems to me that there’s not a lot of difference between the creatine & amino shakes I downed back then, and doping with EPO or testosterone. One is legal, while the others aren’t. But they all build strength and boost performance.

It’s just a matter of degree.

Timur explores downtown, while a group of riders take a slightly longer tour around the city. Will manages to get back home from Newport Beach car free, despite a series of rail-based misadventures. And this just in, Damien and Gary announces that the Cyclist’s Bill of Rights has been passed by the L.A. City Council, not that it will mean anything if our local bureaucrats don’t pay any attention to the city leaders. Still, we all owe a big round of thanks to the Bike Writers Collective, who not only kicked it all off, but pushed it over the goal line.

Thank you, guys. We owe you.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Today’s post, in which I call long distance

December 3, 2008 / / 3 comments

Switchboard.

Hi, uh…is the Big Guy in?

Hold please.

“…Heaven…must be missing an angel…”

God here.

Uh, the God?

Yo.

All knowing, king of kings, creator of heaven and earth…?

Look, was there something you needed? I’m kinda busy here.

Sorry. Just didn’t think you’d be, you know, so easy to reach.

Good timing. Just got off a call on the Pope’s direct line.

The Pope has a direct line?

Yeah. Just wish he’d use it a little more often, you know?

Yeah.

So?

Oh. Sorry. See, I’ve been working in-house for a company out in the Marina this week…

Mmmm hmmmm. All knowing, remember?

Oh, right. Sorry.

Stop saying that.

Okay, sor…uh, yeah, so I noticed when I was driving back from work…

You could ride, you know.

Well, there’s no place to shower, see, and I have to run errands at lunch.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Anyway, I’ve been worried about some of the cyclists I see when I’m driving. I mean, some of these guys are out there at rush hour, riding in the dark, with no light, no helmet and no common sense, cutting in and out of traffic like it was daylight. Like this one guy, dressed all in black on a dark street with no streetlights, if he hadn’t been backlit by another car’s headlights, I never would have known he was there.

And…?

I was hoping you could do something for them, you know, like divine protection or something. ‘Cause they’re gonna need it if they keep riding like that.

Look, I’d like to help. Really, I would. But there’s only so much I can do.

But you’re…

All powerful. Yeah, I know. But it’s that free will thing. I can’t protect people from their own foolish choices.

Okay, I get it. But can we at least give them sharrows or something?

Take it up with city council. It’s a jurisdictional thing. I get the planets and stars, they get the city streets.

Bummer.

Yeah, you’d think they could at least get the damn streets paved.

Well, thanks anyway. Wish your son a Merry Christmas for me.

He’s Jewish.

Oh. Well, happy Hanuk…

(CLICK)

 

Alex dodges a hot pursuit in Culver City. And for once, they weren’t running cyclists out of town. Timur ruminates on his second Critical Mass. Town Mouse reminds us that there are more challenging surfaces for cycling than our crumbling city streets. Our local Bike Snob is shocked – shocked – to find a Rock Racing cyclist on dope. A couple local cycling clubs are holding Toy Rides for Tots. And finally, it turns out Gold Line stations may not be the best places to leave a bike.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , ,

Today’s post, in which I call long distance

December 3, 2008 / / 3 comments

Switchboard.

Hi, uh…is the Big Guy in?

Hold please.

“…Heaven…must be missing an angel…”

God here.

Uh, the God?

Yo.

All knowing, king of kings, creator of heaven and earth…?

Look, was there something you needed? I’m kinda busy here.

Sorry. Just didn’t think you’d be, you know, so easy to reach.

Good timing. Just got off a call on the Pope’s direct line.

The Pope has a direct line?

Yeah. Just wish he’d use it a little more often, you know?

Yeah.

So?

Oh. Sorry. See, I’ve been working in-house for a company out in the Marina this week…

Mmmm hmmmm. All knowing, remember?

Oh, right. Sorry.

Stop saying that.

Okay, sor…uh, yeah, so I noticed when I was driving back from work…

You could ride, you know.

Well, there’s no place to shower, see, and I have to run errands at lunch.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Anyway, I’ve been worried about some of the cyclists I see when I’m driving. I mean, some of these guys are out there at rush hour, riding in the dark, with no light, no helmet and no common sense, cutting in and out of traffic like it was daylight. Like this one guy, dressed all in black on a dark street with no streetlights, if he hadn’t been backlit by another car’s headlights, I never would have known he was there.

And…?

I was hoping you could do something for them, you know, like divine protection or something. ‘Cause they’re gonna need it if they keep riding like that.

Look, I’d like to help. Really, I would. But there’s only so much I can do.

But you’re…

All powerful. Yeah, I know. But it’s that free will thing. I can’t protect people from their own foolish choices.

Okay, I get it. But can we at least give them sharrows or something?

Take it up with city council. It’s a jurisdictional thing. I get the planets and stars, they get the city streets.

Bummer.

Yeah, you’d think they could at least get the damn streets paved.

Well, thanks anyway. Wish your son a Merry Christmas for me.

He’s Jewish.

Oh. Well, happy Hanuk…

(CLICK)

 

Alex dodges a hot pursuit in Culver City. And for once, they weren’t running cyclists out of town. Timur ruminates on his second Critical Mass. Town Mouse reminds us that there are more challenging surfaces for cycling than our crumbling city streets. Our local Bike Snob is shocked – shocked – to find a Rock Racing cyclist on dope. A couple local cycling clubs are holding Toy Rides for Tots. And finally, it turns out Gold Line stations may not be the best places to leave a bike.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , ,

Today’s post, in which I call long distance

December 3, 2008 / / 3 comments

Switchboard.

Hi, uh…is the Big Guy in?

Hold please.

“…Heaven…must be missing an angel…”

God here.

Uh, the God?

Yo.

All knowing, king of kings, creator of heaven and earth…?

Look, was there something you needed? I’m kinda busy here.

Sorry. Just didn’t think you’d be, you know, so easy to reach.

Good timing. Just got off a call on the Pope’s direct line.

The Pope has a direct line?

Yeah. Just wish he’d use it a little more often, you know?

Yeah.

So?

Oh. Sorry. See, I’ve been working in-house for a company out in the Marina this week…

Mmmm hmmmm. All knowing, remember?

Oh, right. Sorry.

Stop saying that.

Okay, sor…uh, yeah, so I noticed when I was driving back from work…

You could ride, you know.

Well, there’s no place to shower, see, and I have to run errands at lunch.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Anyway, I’ve been worried about some of the cyclists I see when I’m driving. I mean, some of these guys are out there at rush hour, riding in the dark, with no light, no helmet and no common sense, cutting in and out of traffic like it was daylight. Like this one guy, dressed all in black on a dark street with no streetlights, if he hadn’t been backlit by another car’s headlights, I never would have known he was there.

And…?

I was hoping you could do something for them, you know, like divine protection or something. ‘Cause they’re gonna need it if they keep riding like that.

Look, I’d like to help. Really, I would. But there’s only so much I can do.

But you’re…

All powerful. Yeah, I know. But it’s that free will thing. I can’t protect people from their own foolish choices.

Okay, I get it. But can we at least give them sharrows or something?

Take it up with city council. It’s a jurisdictional thing. I get the planets and stars, they get the city streets.

Bummer.

Yeah, you’d think they could at least get the damn streets paved.

Well, thanks anyway. Wish your son a Merry Christmas for me.

He’s Jewish.

Oh. Well, happy Hanuk…

(CLICK)

 

Alex dodges a hot pursuit in Culver City. And for once, they weren’t running cyclists out of town. Timur ruminates on his second Critical Mass. Town Mouse reminds us that there are more challenging surfaces for cycling than our crumbling city streets. Our local Bike Snob is shocked – shocked – to find a Rock Racing cyclist on dope. A couple local cycling clubs are holding Toy Rides for Tots. And finally, it turns out Gold Line stations may not be the best places to leave a bike.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , ,

Looking at the big picture

November 25, 2008 / / Comments Off on Looking at the big picture

Call it the curse of an inquisitive mind.

Instead of just enjoying the moment, I have a habit of trying to figure out the big picture, and put it all in perspective.

Take last Friday’s Transportation Committee meeting, for instance. In retrospect, it feels like a watershed moment. But where, exactly, is that water flowing?

Some of it sprang from the Cyclists’ Bill of Rights, as the committee members voted to send it to the full City Council, with their recommendation for approval — although they did ask the City Attorney’s office to review it, as they should. Even though the odds of the lawyers keeping their hands off it are comparable to Barack Obama asking George W. Bush to stay on as ambassador to Iraq.

Ain’t gonna happen.

Then there was the unexpected support that cyclists received from the members of the committee. Or at least, unexpected to me, anyway.

Maybe people who had been more involved in this process had some inkling of the support we were about to receive. But based on my previous experiences with city hall, I was surprised, shocked, stunned and stupefied. And those are just the S’s.

In fact, the only thing more shocking was the audience.

A quick look around the room revealed an unexpectedly large turnout of riders, of nearly every possible description.

Old riders and young riders. Slow riders. Bicycle commuters. Fat tire fans and fixie fanatics. Roadies, off-roaders and racers. And everyone in between. About as disparate a group of two-wheelers as you’ll find anywhere, and all united, for once, in demanding their right to the roads of this fair city.

Except, for once, we didn’t have to. Which was probably the most shocking thing of all.

So what does it all mean?

It means we have friends at city hall. Or at the very least, people who understand the value of bicycling in reducing traffic congestion and smog, and are willing to support us in making this a more rideable — and livable — city.

Then again, as the Times’ Steve Hymon suggests, it’s not unusual for politicians to say they support something, as long as they don’t actually have to do anything. And the Cyclist’s Bill of Rights will be nothing more than a lot of pretty words until the city actually turns those concepts into concrete action.

It means that we all owe a big round of thanks to the people who started this process, back when the chances of success were every bit as infinitesimal as that of a black man becoming president, so that the latecomers — like me, for instance — could enjoy the fruits of their success. And take some small pride in jumping on the bandwagon before it crosses the finish line.

And it means I was wrong.

Because despite what Enci had to say following the good doctor’s Mandeville Canyon brake check, I really didn’t believe this city had a bicycling community. That unfortunate incident marked my introduction to the local cycling community; Friday’s meeting offered proof that it really exists as more than just a series of ships that pass in the bikeway.

It’s one thing for cyclists to unite in outrage when someone deliberately assaults our fellow riders — and forces us to confront that fact that it could have been any of us. But it’s quite another for such a widely varied group to come together and sit through a typically bureaucratic committee meeting in support of their rights as riders.

However, as Stephen Box’s latest post makes clear, we still have a long way to go.  It’s clear that the L.A. Department of Transportation’s Bikeway’s Department isn’t exactly on our side, whether due to an abundance of caution or outright opposition to cyclists on the roads. And as we’ve seen, there’s a large segment of the driving public of that doesn’t exactly welcome our presence on the road, either.

So yes, we won this round, and we should feel good about it. But we have a lot more work to do to turn that Bill of Rights into concrete action that ensures our place on the road, as well as the safety of every rider.

Because no one should ever have to risk their life — or sacrifice their rights — just to ride a bike.

And arriving home safely is the most important right of all.

 

San Diego cyclists are up in arms when a ghost bike is removed earlier than promised. As long as we’re talking about L.A.’s getaways, turns out it is possible to do Santa Barbara without a car. Streetsblog L.A.’s Damien Newton interviews C.I.C.L.E.’s new Exec Director. LACBC gets into the t-shirt biz. Lance’s comeback helps kill next year’s Tour de Georgia, while N.Y. cyclists complain police are writing tickets for using the bike lane. An Altadena weather cam catches what looks an awful lot like a UFO. And finally, this is why we live in L.A.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , ,
« Older Entries   Recent Entries »
Wordpress Theme by ThemeZee