bikelovejones

xtracycle update: it begins

Tue, 13 May 2008 04:40:16 GMT

The fellow who brought his frame by for me to look at forgot to tell me that it had been damaged. He didn't seem to think the damage was significant enough to mention. I decided that several large, quarter-sized dents on the top tube near the seat tube were probably a sign that This Was Not The Frame, and kindly sent him on his way.

Today two things happened:

1. The latest shipment of three Xtracycle kits came in at work. I had more than enough credit saved up, and the other two kits had sold in minutes, so I snapped up the last one for myself.

2. Wandering around in the loft at work, I came across a frameset that I had scored AGES ago -- and then forgot about. It was a 19" frame. The geometry is as old-school as the Peugeot's, meaning that I MAY still have some issues with the placement of the cranks. But since it's a smaller frame, my torso won't be bent forward quite as far as I pedal. I'm hoping this will be enough of a difference for me to make the frame work. I'll build it up as a single bike first and ride it just to make sure. But I'm fairly certain it will fit me better than the Peugeot did.

I brought everything home in my trailer:

If I don't find a buyer for the trailer soon and free up space at home, I'll take it to the shop to sell there. Then I'll get to make the cool visual statement about taking the folded-up trailer away on the back of my Xtracycle, which will be hilarious and perfect.

random sunday thoughts and news

Sun, 11 May 2008 18:47:26 GMT

Today is an artificial day set up to honor mothers everywhere.

That said, a lifetime of westernized conditioning makes it tough for me to forget that it's Mother's Day, or to pretend that the holiday doesn't exist. So after we promised ourselves that, for lots of reasons, we will spend the day doing things that are decidedly non-Mother-like, and while Sweetie cat-napped in the next room, I dug out an article I wrote the year my mother died, and I re-read it. The magazine had asked for copies of photos of me and my mother and I had obliged. The photo of my mom, holding me at five months old, reminds me of how beautiful she was. Her eyes smile exactly the way mine do now. And reading, I remembered that day -- the day I picked up her ashes from the funeral home a week after she died, and I rode all over downtown Portland all day long before taking the ashes on a Critical Mass ride that evening. I read the article, and remembered that day, and in a pang of recognition -- I woke up today and once again my mother was not in the world, as if there was a glimmer of hope that I might wake up and find her somehow miraculously returned to me, but she's not -- I missed my mother terribly and I cried a little. And it felt really okay. I loved my mother enough then to miss her now.

*************

More unusual birds are coming to the feeder, birds we don't normally see. Today it was most likely an Evening Grosbeak, resplendent in flaming orange and black, with a white band across the wing and a stubby beak. Last week it had been a Western Meadowlark, a bird that doesn't usually hang out in the city all that much. We keep the bird books and the binoculars handy so that when the birds come we can try to figure out what they are. Sweetie is having more fun with this every time. Ultimately I'd like us to go on a birding walk, in Oaks Bottom or out at Jackson Bottom.

*************

A fellow is coming over later this afternoon to potentially swap ATB frames with me. I stripped down the Peugeot at last and have offered to swap it for a smaller frame. I hope it will be smaller enough for me to ride comfortably. I have decided to build up an Xtracycle and have offered the Burley trailer for sale to a friend. If he doesn't need it I'll put it up on craigslist or something. Yesterday, in a fit of decided non-Shabbat behavior, I stripped down the Peugeot and cleaned the drive train parts. Then, I cleaned out most of one side of the shed and swept the floor, and caulked the cracks between the floor and the bottom of the framing to seal out the rain a little better. I'll slowly make my way around the shed, cleaning out a corner at a time and caulking the floor. This summer I want to build more shelves inside and get stuff up off the floor. Ultimately I'd really like to sand and seal the particleboard floor with some kind of verithane coating, but ideally a "green" version that won't smell so toxic to Sweetie (or BE so toxic for both of us). But that's a project for when it gets really hot out and the floor will take less time to dry. Meanwhile, The Peugeot frame is hanging up on a hook, and the parts are in a bag. I am researching all I can about Xtracycles online and trying to figure out if I can still run a triple crank up front and only six speeds in the back. Stay tuned. I hope to have this thing up and running within a month.

a perfect ride

Sat, 10 May 2008 17:27:29 GMT

Last night I rode over to northwest Portland, for a special service honoring high school graduates at the synagogue where I've taught for eight of the last nine years.
I've known some of these kids since 5th grade. Because I'd given notice that I wouldn't be teaching at temple next year, the evening held a special poignancy and closure for me. And because it was a beautiful spring evening, I knew I'd simply HAVE to ride my bike.

For all the years I've taught at temple religious school, I have ridden my bicycle to get there and back. At a large Reform temple with a very affluent congregation, an adult riding a bike is a point of curiosity, of downright incredulity. My grade-school-aged Hebrew students, accustomed to being ferried to religious school in Mom's Saab or Dad's BMW, would see me pedal my bike up Flanders Street, and they'd roll down the window and wave and shout, "Hi, Morah (teacher) Beth!" My high school Talmud students, newly liberated with their Provisional Drivers' Licenses, would tell me that because they knew an adult who rode a bike every day for transportation, it made them look out more carefully for bicycle riders on the road. At the end of an evening of religious school classes, my Talmud students would often tell me, "ride safely".

I pulled up in front of the temple just as the graduating seniors were gathering outside, lining up to process into the temple in their black robes and tallitot (prayer shawls). They saw me and waved and smiled as I locked up my bike to the iron grillwork that held up the canopy outside the temple. I rang my bell in greeting, eliciting giggles and cheers, and dashed inside to take a seat before the service began.

The service was lovely, all speeches and tears and laughter, as these sorts of things ought to be. I stayed only a little while at the Oneg afterwards, exchanging hugs with my students while we munched on a spread of hummus, babaganouj, cheeses and fruits and pita. Although my students were not technically required to come to the closing night of religious school next week -- they'd graduated, after all -- they all promised me they'd be there to say goodbye. So I walked outside into the warm night, unlocked my bike and pedaled home, over the Broadway bridge and up North Williams Avenue, smiling as the sky darkened into deep electric-midnight blue and the crescent moon sparkled overhead like an earring in the sky. I felt good, riding easily and gently and feeling the cooling rush of air against my cheek. A perfect evening and a perfect ride.

the new acorn bags

Mon, 05 May 2008 22:13:51 GMT

My new/recycled Acorn Bags arrived over the weekend, and they were waiting for me when I got to work.

Per my request they made me one each of their "Large Saddlebag" and their "Handlebar bag" (there was more than enough fabric from the golf bag cover to do that). I let them keep the excess fabric to play with.
I got a percentage off the price (15% doesn't seem like a ton in exchange for the fabric but hey, they still supplied all the notions and MADE the things). They were happy to work with me and excited to make a set of their bags "semi-custom" from repurposed fabric.

Being used fabric, it's not nearly as stiff as new fabric would be, but with an application of proofing wax it should repel the rain just fine.

I guess this makes me a "bag-matcher" now...

And just to prove that this was a found object whose fabric had been repurposed, I asked them to make sure the logo showed up somewhere. They refused to let it show on the outside but obliged me by having it appear inside the main body of the rear bag:

By the way, if you want to know more, they've FINALLY got their own website:
http://www.acornbags.com

bike wisdom

Mon, 05 May 2008 16:04:21 GMT

Sweetie rode her bike several days ago, on the first of several sunny days over the weekend.

In the past she has had issues with hand numbness, which worried me because it meant I might have to find her another handlebar/stem combo. Current combo is among the most comfortable and adjustable, with Wald 8095's and an adjustable upright stem. It SHOULD work in SOME configuration, right? But it hadn't, for a few years, in fact; and I was about ready to tear her front end apart in search of that illusive "better" setup.

Until she reported to me a solution to her difficulty. She tried wearing her gloves with the velcro strap adjusted very loosely. Her hands were not numb the entire day. She was happy, and so was I.

drum happiness: drum corps reunion

Sun, 04 May 2008 16:37:22 GMT

Yesterday I combined two loves: bicycling and drumming.

Needing a longer ride this weekend, and wanting to honor an invitation to join some drum corps alums for an evening of food and fun, I decided to ride my bike out to Sellwood and back, a nearly 20-mile loop with dinner in the middle.

I wasn't sure I was going to go, even though the organizer had invited me not once, but three times by email. She was emphatic; come and join us, she said. There will be people there who remember you and it will be fun.

I was dubious. I had marched in drum and bugle corps over 30 years ago, Back When The Earth Cooled and we all carried our equipment with webbed cotton slings and leg rests. (I CARRIED a fiberglass kettledrum until it became clear to the instructor that at just over 5 feet tall and 90 lbs. dripping wet, I was too small for the drum. When he learned that I could sight-read equally well in either clef he switched me to the bells. I no longer wilted under the weight of my instrument and my drum corps experience improved dramatically.)
I lasted only one season with the Spartans. My father lost his nightclub gig and was blacklisted by his union, and suddenly my folks couldn't afford "extras" like a summer on the road in drum corps. I made do with my high school marching band after that, no comparison but at least it was free.
I returned to the Spartans as an instructor for a couple of years in the late 80's, and spent a good 15-plus years as a percussion arranger/instructor and drill designer for half a dozen Portland are high school bands. I never stopped loving the pageantry arts. I guess that love had a lot to do with my desire to pick up the sticks and start playing again.

So I went to the party last night. And I had a GREAT time.
The nicest parts of all, in no particular order:

1. I was instantly welcomed, even embraced, by the four other women drummers who were in attendance. They were so happy to meet a fifth woman who loved rudimental drumming, it was fantastic. Two of the women had come from very far out of town for this gathering, so we passed around some drumheads and a Sharpie and everyone in attendance signed them for the Californian and the Canadian as souvenirs. Very sweet, very old-school.

2. A fellow who had been one of my high school students in the early 90's showed up and surprised me. He looked great, well and very happy. He was still playing and in fact could now play circles, even whole continents, around me. (I am not the least bit jealous, only really happy for him. He's one of the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet.)

3. I was surprised at the number of folks who remembered me, and who I remembered, from my days as a drum corps instructor and even as a marching member. Everyone was older, and grayer, and in some cases a little more pot-bellied; but most could still play. For laughs one fellow showed up in his late 80's Blue Devils uniform jacket. He couldn't close the front anymore and his shoulders threatened to collapse the seams, but everyone had a good laugh.

3a. At some point, the food and drinks were cleared aside and a dozen practice pads were brought out. A pair of sticks was handed to me and I was urged to play along. For the next hour we played whatever exercises or other bits and pieces someone could remember and teach us. It was here that both my 12-year hiatus and my age showed. I followed along as gamely as I could, but WOW! it was hard to keep up with everyone else. I learned new "rudiments" whose names were unfamiliar to me (what on earth IS a "cheese", exactly? Another thing for me to research online...), and was reassured when I figured out that something "new" was actually just a series of inverted flam taps. (Flam rudiments have always been weak for me. I must practice them more.)

What a delight to watch three women who could play. One of them especially had the most fluid hands, and produced the cleanest and easiest open roll I'd ever seen. A thing of beauty that made me want to play again even more, even if only for fun.

Most interestingly, it was my right hand that gave out first, and signaled that it was time for me to ride home. (Most drummers have a weaker left hand. My bike accident back in '97 seems to have evened things out a bit.) I exchanged email addresses with the other women, and with my former student, and was greeted with hugs and promises that if another such gathering was organized I would be contacted. And I know that if invited I would definitely come and enjoy. I rode home happy, glad I'd come to the party and hoping I'd hear from these women again in the future.

cargo hauling and bike lust

Sat, 03 May 2008 20:21:38 GMT

As you know, dear readers, I currently own three bikes, two of which I use all the time. The third bike is an ATB which has not been serving me well, largely due to the relationship between the saddle fore/aft setting and the placement of the cranks.
While I have often contemplated finding a new home for this bike there is something which stops me cold each time.

Today it was the consideration of cargo-hauling.

This morning Sweetie and I made our triennial pilgrimage to Overlook Park for the Metro Plastics Recycling Roundup. Three times a year, Metro Master Recyclers staff a parking lot where Portlanders can bring the plastics recycleables that currently cannot be taken curbside. As we have gotten good at both sorting the plastics we use AND at getting away with purchasing fewer items packaged in plastic, the amount of plastic we bring each season has grown slightly smaller. Today's load, with some judicious bungee-cording, might have fit in my Burley trailer. Indeed, I noted two bicycle-riders with trailers in tow, piled high with recycleables; and declared to Sweetie that next time I really wanted to take it all in the trailer. She nodded her assent and that was the end of the discussion.

Back at home, while storing something in the shed, I saw the Peugeot, hanging forlorn in the corner and waiting for me to Do Something Real with it. A handlebar and stem change and some additional tweaking with the saddle position MIGHT solve the fit issues enough for me to keep the bike, but why would I do that? I have an upright bike and a drop-bar bike and most days that seems like all the bikes I really need.

But if I could put an Xtracycle on the back of the Peugeot... Well, I could sell the Burley trailer and still have cargo-hauling capacity on those occasions when I need it.
Only thing is, when do I really need to haul cargo? And if I swapped the trailer for an Xtracycle, would I find more reasons to haul cargo this way than I do with the trailer? The truth is that I use the trailer less than three times a year now. Originally purchased when Sweetie and I were trying to have a baby, it now hangs in the shed as a silent reminder -- to me, anyway -- of our inability to acheive parenthood. Why would I want to hang onto it at this point?

What's really at issue here is how often I want to use the bike as a beast of burden. Riding a "normal" bike gives me the option of tossing it on transit, something I've needed to do quite a lot this winter and spring as the weather and my allergies have wreaked havoc. Converting a regular bike into an Xtracycle is a commitment to Ride The Whole Way There, And Back Again, anytime I take the thing out. By selling off the Burley trailer I would certainly clear out some (enough?) space in which to store an Xtracycle, since I wouldn't be able to hang it up. I'd have to work on it in the yard, because it wouldn't fit on the repair stand inside the shed. So then the question becomes, do I have room in my physical life for one of these things? And so far, the answer seems to be a qualified Maybe, which isn't enough of an answer for me to take the step just now.

But still, it's pretty darned appealing...

ride report: slow riding is still riding

Thu, 01 May 2008 15:55:18 GMT

I have had the most agonizingly lingering cough, for nearly three weeks. Some of it is leftovers from the series of colds that began in late February. The rest of it is my annual allergy onslaught, that time in late April/early May when I get short of breath and have to pull off the road every five or six blocks and wheeze until I catch my breath. For the last several years I had found some relief in an inhaler from my doctor, which gives me the ability to catch my breath faster and keep it a little longer. The allergy acclimation period usually lasts two to four weeks, after which I can put the inhaler away for the year and get on with my spring and summer.

This year, the agony began early and seems longer because my colds have combined with my allergies to create what will likely be an 8-week stretch of hell.

As you can imagine, this has somewhat curtailed my bicycle riding.

On the best days, I ride all the way to work and hop MAX to shorten my ride home. On the worst days I've used transit much more than my bike. I've had a couple of really nice longer rides on the weekends, primarily on days when it got temporarily warmer. Then the cold snap would return and I'd ride to work in very cold, wet weather. My mileage has been low and my ability to build endurance has been almost nil. It was this long stretch of health and weather challenges that helped clarify my decision to abandon the pursuit of the 200k this year.

Yesterday, even though it was cold and cloudy, I managed to avoid the rain and hail and I was able to simply enjoy the rhythm of my legs pumping up and down, moving the bike forward and watching birds and squirrels dart across the road and over my head. Breathing in was mostly okay. I only needed my inhaler once on the way to work. I arrived at the shop feeling pretty good, happy I'd ridden and not stressed at all about my low mileage. I am not at all on track at this point to meet my stated mileage goal for the year (2,850 miles). If I continue to ride as I have been I will break 2,000 miles again but not by terribly much. That seems okay.

I am happy about the 100k rides I did last year, and I look forward to doing at least two this year (Livestrong and the Verboort Populaire). Will I pursue a longer distance next year? I don't know, and this spring I have decided that I don't care either. I am happy just to ride. But the truth is that I'm looking forward to a time when the strange run of back-and-forth weather will finally end and it will really be spring for awhile.

*********

In Other News: one of my bestest, bestest friends in the whole wide world's fair has just announced that he is returning to Oregon after several years away. He will be here in June. I have to find a bike frame to build up for him. It needs to be relatively cheap, because money is tight for me just now; and ought to be a step-through (womens') hybrid or atb frame to accommodate his shorter inseam (He's 5' 9" with about a 29" inseam). I have all the parts I need, I just need a frame. If you can help, lemme know.

welcome to blogland

Thu, 01 May 2008 05:32:18 GMT

New blog:

In No Particular Order (http://l-renwoman.blogspot.com/)

The address will take you to the blog of (drum roll, please...) My Sweetie.
YAY!
Not bike-oriented, not a problem.
Food and sustainability and life and, well, other stuff.
Plus, it's great writing.
I'm talking really excellent writing, complete sentences and paragraphs that would make an English teacher giddy, combined with innovative turns of phrase and original ideas.
I am not-so-secretly thrilled.

..::buttons popping on shirt::..

Give it a few days for the posts to begin to pile up.
Then go, read and enjoy.

spring planting

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 15:52:46 GMT

Well, it's begun.

Over the weekend, when the weather FINALLY warmed up and dried up, Sweetie and I began putting in the veggie beds. Potatoes, carrots, lettuce and spinach. Coming in May: tomatoes (yes, pal M, we'll be putting them in before Rose Festival, we always do), maybe some peppers, and definitely zucchini.

Other spring/summer projects include repairing the back fence (I'm replacing a worn section of the chain-link fencing with a latticework of old bicycle wheels) and installing a single-pole, revolving clothesline so we can use our dryer less.

I have given up on pursuing a 200km brevet this year. That does NOT mean I've given up on riding -- far from it -- I'll still ride to work every day and enjoy longer rides on the weekends. But the time, health and weather needed to make this pursuit realistic just hasn't been there for me this spring; and with so many more things needing my attention this summer -- including increased hours at work -- there's no way I will have the same luxury of time to train and recover that I had last year. Rides of more than 30 to 35 miles will probably have to wait. I'm okay with it, and hope that I will be able to pursue a 200km brevet next year. I am still on track to ride more than 2,000 miles this year, and even if I don't come close to surpassing last year's total I think that's still totally fine.

I am still doing the Livestrong ride at the end of June. I am still raising money and my goal is to ride the 70-mile course, likely my longest single-day ride of the summer. I also plan to ride the Verboort Populaire again in the fall.

I'll be scouring freecycle and craigslist for used clotheslines...

product review: rainlegs

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 22:13:55 GMT

(Note: this is an unsolicited review.)

I purchased a pair of Rainlegs about a year ago, to test as a potential product that my shop might carry.
(I have been the shop's rainwear buyer for several years and am always on the lookout for good stuff.)

I have used the Rainlegs quite often as a convenient alternative to full rain pants.

Here's my report after nearly a year of use. Use averaged one to three times a week during Portland's roughly 6-month rainy season.

1. Water resistance: C-
The material is a nylon parachute-type fabric that is coated from underneath with a very light water-proofing. In addition, the seams are taped. On any ride in light to medium rain that lasted longer than about 15 minutes, the rain began to seep directly through the fabric. After an hour my pant legs began to get noticably wet under the Rainlegs. Since the garment is advertised as "water proof", this was a disappointment. The Rainlegs are sold by size to accommodate different leg lengths. (My size Mediums, in hindsight, are a tiny bit short for my legs; but at 5' 7" I have unusually long thighs so knickers and other such things are hard for me to fit anyway.)

2. Durability: B-
After a year of use the fabric sealant has begun to wear away, and the seam tape (which was applied over the top of the fabric coating) has begun to pull away at the edges. On a positive note, the top mesh panel, designed for ease of use in rolling up and storing the garment more compactly, is still in good shape a year later -- though I admit that about half the time I'm more incline to just mash the garment into a wad and stuff it into my saddlebag than to actually roll it up neatly with the snaps provided. Considering that this garment retails for over 50 dollars US, I had hoped for something a bit more durable.

3. Design. B+/A-
The overall cut and fit of the garment is generally good. If I wanted to be picky I would try to solve the issue of the crotch area getting caught on the nose of my saddle; but I can deal with that as I ride and it's not a huge issue. It becomes a larger issue when I dismount; the inside thigh sometimes get caught on the saddle as I dismount, making for a potentially hazardous situation if I have to dismount in a hurry, in traffic. On the bike they seem just fine; and with a better, more truly waterproof fabric they would be an excellent alternative to full pants. I also appreciated the reflective material on the strip that wraps just above the knee.

My old Burley rain pants, hassle though they are to put on and take off, are more durable and more truly waterproof, even after SEVEN seasons of regular use. I'm not looking for the same level of durabiulity in what is more honestly a boutique, convenience item; but better waterproofness would sure be nice.

In summary: A good idea, but it needs more work before I'd buy another pair.

(Note: Rainlegs are advertised as coming from Holland -- that's where they were designed and where the company is based -- but they are manufactured in China.)

whine alert: in fits and starts, and stops

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 03:54:31 GMT

Ugh.

I really had hoped for a better start to my riding season this year.

Every time I want to think that I've got my health back, or that the weather will improve, one or the other (or this week, both) will simply Not Work Out.

My last enjoyable bike ride was a little over a week ago when we had an amazing, glorious 78-degree day and I rode in short sleeves. It all went downhill not long after that.

This week I was busy helping Sweetie whip the house into shape for Passover (cleaning, cooking, baking, you name it) and then hosting our seder, which meant NO riding for four days in a row. In the midst of our preperation, I began sneezing wildly and sniffling non-stop, and by Saturday night I was in the throes of either allergies or another cold, or both. Saturday night I was miserable, feeling plugged up and sort of deaf in that sinusy way. I slept on two pillows and waited for the fog to lift inside my head.

Then, just for fun -- even if I had felt like riding this weekend -- the weather decided to turn foul again. An arctic blast came down from Alaska and we had more cold days with highs in the low 40's. That's cold around here for late April. A few sun breaks interspersed with mix of rain, snow and hail repeated ad nauseum throughout the weekend. Today it was still pretty cold out. I rode to work today -- finally! -- but I felt really slow and tired and pedaled that way all the way to the shop. At work I watched as more sun breaks interspersed with more rain and even a spot of hail -- and I would've ridden home in it if a sinus headache hadn't reared its head around 3pm. I chickened out and took the bus most of the way home.

It's not like I haven't tried to get excited about riding, but the steady onslaught of weather and colds and allergies is really getting to me. I could skip spring at this point and go straight to early summer.

chag sameach pesach

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 22:51:26 GMT

Tonight is the first night of Passover (Pesach in Hebrew). Tonight we're having first seder at the home of good friends. Tomorrow night we'll host the second seder at our house.

I took off work Thursday to get an early start on the cleaning, and today we began playing with food (we're not so Shomer Shabbes that we abstain from cooking on Shabbat; and besides, when I cook with my Sweetie there's often an element of real play in it so I figure we're pretty much off the hook as regards halacha, or Jewish law). Today Sweetie began by getting a head start on the chicken soup, and I helped her make matzoh balls, a load each of sinkers and floaters because we cannot agree on which is better. I'm a sinker gal myself; generally if it doesn't break my toe it's not heavy enough. Sweetie likes them to float and be fluffy.

Now that the house is sparkling -- well, as sparkling as a tiny, rickety house built in 1906 can be -- I feel better and better about the whole enterprise. That's the way it goes: deep cleaning's a pain but you sure feel better afterwards. I'm looking forward to setting a table for twelve (!!) and preparing the seder plate (my mother's, given to me after she died). I guess it's something I inherited from my folks, that fact that I take great pleasure and joy in having folks over for good food and conversation. A seder is that in multiples.

If you're observing Passover, may your retelling of the Exodus story bring inspiration and joy! Chag Sameach (Happy holiday)!

music and nostalgia, part two: old-school drumming

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 23:08:14 GMT

As I've been practicing and slowly watching some of my snare drum chops return, I have been checking out various videos on You Tube, and I've noticed that I am forming some strong biases about what I'm seeing and hearing.

1. While I appreciate the technical chops (and physical strength!) required to play on high-tension kevlar heads, I find that I personally prefer the lower tension (and gentler rebound) of non-kevlar heads. Yes, the older drums are tuned lower, but that does not detract from their sound. I think that a properly tuned drum with properly-adjusted snares can sound great. Also, the newer high-tension drums are, by all reports so far, murder on the hands and wrists.

2. I find that the modern drum arrangements don't seem to offer as much time for drummers to play rudimentally (in the traditional sense of the word) -- they serve as more of an accompaniment to what's happening in the winds, and there seems to be more of an emphasis on color and tone rather than on rudimental precision. Even in the best drumlines I can hear lots of dirty passages in the snare sections, particularly where there are flam and drag rudiments. (For the uninitiated, flams and drags are sort of like grace-notes for the snare drummer.) And I have to say I don't hear many drags at all nowadays.

On the downside, this certainly changes the relationship of the drummer to his/her rudiments (and perhaps changes the way drummers learn them in the first place). On the upside, today's drum parts seem much more integrated with the musical big picture, and that certainly doesn't hurt the art form as it has evolved.

3. I notice that today's marching drummers are asked to cover a LOT more ground in terms of the drill design. So they have to be super-fit. The change in drill-writing for the battery may be one practical reason that some of the musical writing now emphasizes the rudiments a little less; executing some of the traditional rudiments would be crazy-hard when you're marching a crab-walk at quarter-note-equals-160!

4. Today's newest marching drum carriers are more intelligently designed, both from an ergonomic standpoint AND from a unisex standpoint. I remember the first generation of fiberglass drum harnesses, which put all but the most flat-chested girl at a painful disadvantage. And I also note that much more attention is paid to physical conditioning of corps members now -- they run, do calisthenics and even use yoga, stuff that drummers almost never did when I marched.

I still imagine that I might find a group to play with, though I'm not sure what that might look like. It might be fun to place an ad for "old school marching drummers seeking ensemble opportunities" or something like that. I dunno. Anyway, it's certainly been an educational trip so far. And I love that my diddles are coming back!

bees have better knees than me

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 14:40:46 GMT

Today my knees hurt. Every time I get up or sit down, the tops of both kneecaps twitch painfully. Once I get walking they're okay. Ugh.

It all started when I switched to the Peugeot last week, to do some muddy, ugly kinds of riding that the All-Rounder's not currently set up for. The Rivvy was needing some work, so I pulled down the Peugeot and rode all over the palce. Then on Saturday I switched to the All-Rounder for a longer ride with friends. Then I kept riding the All-Rounder Monday and yesterday. Last night, my right knee pulled and twitched sharply and I tossed my bike on the bus to shorten my trip home. This morning both my knees hurt.

Without health insurance I generally have to figure these things out on my own.

I'm guessing that the Peugeot causes more problems every time I ride it, and that riding bikes that fit in between the times I ride the Peugeot makes it worse for me when I ride the Peugeot. The Peugeot has a much longer top tube and slacker seat tube, which puts the saddle farther behind the cranks and really stretches me out. Without a degree in physiology I suspect that this geometry simply isn't working for me. This is the fourth time that I've ridden the Peugeot for an extended period, then have painful knees when I switch back to one of my smaller (and presumably better-fitting) bikes. Usually after a day or two off the bike my knees go back to normal and I can ride again -- and I find I'm always reaching for one of the other two bikes.

So I guess it's down to two bikes, and that's that. I had originally planned on passing this bike along to one of my nieces, but they both have bikes they ride and like a lot. So I guess it's time to move this bike along. I'll probably overhaul it, clean it up and find another home for it locally.

(bummer)

ride report: preview of summer

Sat, 12 Apr 2008 20:28:52 GMT

Because I wanted to have the latter half of the day relaxing and planning seder with Sweetie, I opted for my Smith & Bybee loop. Today I was joined at the start by Jason, a friend from OrRando who wanted a mellower ride so he could baby his knee a little. Michael R. had promised to show but when he wasn't there at the 9am sharp start time we left. The day was sunny, but still cool enough for arm and knee warmers as we made our way to Schmeer Road.

Jason lives on the west side of the universe and hasn't ridden in North Portland before, so I enjoyed introducing him to the joys of the Columbia Slough (where we spotted geese, ducks and a beautiful heron from the path). As we left the gravel part of the path and began riding on the paved section of Old Portland Hghway, I heard panting behind us, and suddenly Michael was there. He was breathing hard and coughing a lot; getting over a nasty cold and contending with early allergy season. So we pulled over for a minute to let him catch his breath. He was resplendent in his brand new jersey ("Rasmussen All-Star Race Team", from Rasmussen Bike Shop somewhere in Iowa.) He saw it and had to have it. Because his last name is the same as the proprietor's they gave him a shipping discount and a bunch of extra schwag.

By the time the three of us made it to Kelly Point Park, I was ready to shed my arm warmers. The sun had warmed everything up quite agreeably and we reveled in the first taste of warmer days to come, pedaling and talking loudly like kids out on a lark. After another stop for a quick restroom break, we made it to downtown St. Johns and the required stop at Anna Bananna's, where we enjoyed lunch and conversation. After lunch, things had warmed up enough for me to shed the knee warmers as well, and I rode in short sleeves and shorts for the first time this year. Delightful!

We rode along Willamette Blvd to Ainsworth, and said goodbye to Jason at Interstate (where he caught the MAX back to the west side of town). Michael, riding all morning with a dry, squeaky chain, came to my house for a spot of oil before heading home.
I brought a camera but had such a grand time riding and hanging out with Jason and Michael that I forgot to take a single picture. That's a sign of an excellent ride.
Total 23.5 miles.

bike porn alert: sweetpea bicycles

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 15:42:17 GMT

Heads-up! If you love beautiful bikes, GO HERE NOW:

http://www.sweetpeabicycles.com/blog/2008/04/08/hw-jr-rolls-out-of-the-shop/

Read, gawk, follow the links to more photos, and enjoy. Put on a bib to catch the drool.

This is one of the most GAW-GUSS bikes ever to roll out the door from a framebuilder. And since I know the happy owner, I hope to be blessed with a personal introduction very soon.

This has been a public service announcement from the BBBB (Beautiful Bicycles Board).

gear update: acorn bags

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 15:07:19 GMT

A few months ago Sweetie and I were out walking in our neighborhood and I found a large green canvas bag lying on the sidewalk. Thinking someone might return for it, I left it there, in a puddle under a large tree. Three weeks later, no one had claimed it so on our next walk past that spot I picked it up from its puddled state and brought it home. The bag turned out to be a large cover for a golf bag and clubs, for guests to use at a golf course. I washed and dried it and it turns out the fabric is pretty sturdy stuff. After casting about for ideas and trying in vain to contact a couple of local bag-makers, I decided to contact Ron over at Acorn Bags to see if he'd be interested in re-purposing the fabric into one or more of his designs. There's a lot of fabric and I'd let him keep the rest to play with. He was highly interested, and yesterday I boxed up the golf bag and sent it off. He will look it over and tell me if it'll work (I'm pretty sure it will).

For a reduced price I may end up with a nice set of bags that I will put on the Rivvy LongLow. Stay tuned.

(For more on acorn bags: http://bikelovejones.livejournal.com/58190.html)

ride report: hillsboro-forest grove-hillsboro

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 01:45:05 GMT

The plan was that I would take transit to Hillsboro and ride a mostly-rural loop to Forest Grove, where I would greet for the fastest riders to finish the 200km Birkie Brevet, sign and collect their control cards, and wait for Cecil and Lynne to arrive.
Everything worked out except that Lynne and Cecil arrived earlier than anticipated, and they didn’t really need me at all. So from a volunteer standpoint, I schlepped all the way to Forest Grove for nothing.

However, from a ride standpoint I got in some excellent miles, and in mostly wet conditions to boot. I enjoyed a nearly all-flat course (there was maybe one hill but it was so short it’s hardly worth mentioning), lots of bird-watching along the way (two ospreys, a peregrine falcon, tons of ducks and geese and a bald eagle!) and a fairly straight-ahead pace: 11.5 to 12 mph on the way there, and closer to 10 on the way back (when it rained for most of the ride and absolutely poured for about four miles out of Forest Grove). Mostly it was a good day to get out and stretch my legs and clear my head a little.

I remembered to eat and drink regularly along the way – and I had an excellent lunch at the Grand Lodge, which helped a lot. The only downside was that when I neared Hillsboro I got really chilled for a little while, then got chilled some more while I waited downtown for the Yellow Line to take me to Killingsworth. Best moment of all: leaving Forest Grove just in time for the big rain to come down, watching a bus approach with plenty of time to wave it down and toss my bike on, and thinking, “well, gee, I’m out here already, I may as well just ride the route back the way I came, even though I feel sort of tired.” I let the bus go and proceeded to ride the 12 miles back to Hillsboro. I was sort of tired but figured out that part of it was actually mental. Learning to recognize when that happens is a big part of the learning curve for me. And it turned out that even though part of my ride back to Hillsboro was a virtual pissfest of a downpour, I still enjoyed myself.

What worked: Food and drink. A Clif bar on the way there, a long with regular water intake. More Clif bar munching on the way back, near the end when the lunch calories began to fade from my reserves. More water. I never felt crappy because I kept fueling myself and at least today it worked.

Clothing: Surprisingly, this left me wanting just a bit. I wore wool tights, with knickers over them; a wool undershirt, Pendleton button-down shirt and my favorite heavy wool cycling sweater, with a Burley Rain Rider jacket and pants over all that. I got wet, and then I got clammy, and then I got a little chilled, even with all that wool. I can only imagine that wearing polyprop would've made things even worse. Wool cycling socks (which, in hindsight, should've been heavier) and tennis shoes (which, in hindsight, should've been cycling shoes) were probably not the smartest choices, but neither were they totally bad for me today. Wool cycling cap with ear band and wool neck gaiter were definitely needed all day. Wool gloves did their job of keeping my hands reasonably warm even after getting wet.

Total mileage on the day: a rather satisfying 30.3 miles.

riding with intention

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 03:41:35 GMT

This spring I have gotten off to a VERY slow start on my Intentional Riding Season. What I mean by Intentional Riding is riding for the sake of riding, usually lots of miles, usually in scenic rural places. I don't want to call it all randonneuring because frankly a lot of my country riding ISN'T about finishing within a time limit, nor is it always a terribly long distance. But randonneuring is certainly an idea at the back of my mind when I go out on these non-commuting rides. And this spring I simply haven't felt like much of a randonneuse.

I had one nasty cold in February and had to skip the opening populaire of the season. Then the weather during much of March was terribly cold; and then I got hit with another setback that was either a 48-hour bug or food poisoning. Now I at least feel like riding more, but not terribly fast. Today was a perfect example.

I had a late start, complicated by a need to be at work early (for a meeting that I was facilitating!). Hopped on the bike and rode, although I didn't especially feel like it. Got to work just in time, felt moderately okay, and noted that my mood and energy improved little by little during the meeting. At the end of a very busy day (in which I did not get to take my full lunch and ate skimpily to boot), I felt tired but also knew that I had errands on the way which would require me to ride rather than take the bus. By the time I'd finished my errands I felt like riding, but had very little gas left to do so. So I decided to enjoy the ride home at Whatever Pace I Wanted, with absolutely NO thoughts of "TRAINING".

And you know what? I had one of the most enjoyable rides I'd had in weeks, even nicer than the Rocky Butte climb last Saturday. It was blissful and gentle and absolutely lovely. The sun warmed my cheeks and the breeze cooled my evaporating sweat and I climbed up Sabin Hill in my little ring and my next-to-biggest cog at something like 5 mph, and it all felt really, really nice. I arrived home feeling happy and uncomplicated. And THAT is the feeling I must remember so I can find it again when I ride my bike. Because that is the feeling that helps me remember WHY I like to ride my bike. There is nothing in the world quite like uncomplicated happiness.

On Saturday I'm volunteering to greet the early finishers at the OrRando Birkie brevet
(http://www.orrandonneurs.org/rba/2008/BirkieBrevet/2008_BirkieBrevet_Info.html). If you can believe it, this ride starts at 7am and there are at least a couple of riders who will finish the 200km (125 mi) course by 12:30 or 1pm. They're crazy, true; but someone needs to be there at the end to sign their control cards and give them congratulations for being such monsters. I signed up to do that part of the ride because it's the only part of the course that's transit accessible -- meaning that I can hop the MAX out to Hillsboro and then create a lovely country ride for myself to Forest Grove.

ByCycle (www.bycycle.org) is a website that offers bike-route mapping for folks wanting to ride in either Minneapolis, MN or Portland, OR (why they don't have other cities mapped out yet is beyond me but I bet it would be a hit just about anywhere). Using their mapping program and my Washington County Bike Map I've plotted out a lovely, leisurely ride of 12 miles each way, with about a 3-hour sitting spell in between. Again, not really a "training" ride, but a way to get in some lovely riding while I help out OrRando. Sweetie is supportive and has made other plans that day, since between the riding, sitting and public transit I will be gone for much of it. The weather is supposed to be at least a little warmer than it's been and I anticipate a really nice ride. Both ways.

ride report: yessssss!

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 22:10:07 GMT

After a slow start to my Intentional Riding Season, delayed here and there by nasty colds, flare-ups and a 48-hour virus, I decided that today I really needed to go for a ride. At first I felt sort of unmotivated; it was cold and damp out and the clouds threatened rain. But when Sweetie announced that she was going to the gym, that gave me the kick in the pants I needed, and I was out the door before she'd gotten dressed.

I didn't have a planned route. All I knew was that I imagined a ride of between 20 and 25 miles. I rode east and twisted and turned through quiet neighborhood streets of Northeast Portland, until I found myself at the foot of Rocky Butte. Climbing it would shorten my reserves and therefore shorten my hoped-for distance. But to get this close and NOT climb seemed wrong. The sun was peeking through the fast-moving clouds, and I knew that the view from the top would be dramatic on a day like this. So up I went.

I was certainly winded, and had to stop a few times to catch my breath. But I rode all the way up. I hadn't ridden up Rocky Butte in a very long time, years really. So I took a few snaps:

At the end of the pavement, with the stone "fortress" in view:

On the tippy-top, walking my bike up the gravel path to get to this great view of the Columbia River:

The "fortress" was the former site of a jail that used to be up here many years ago. When I got there, there was a group of climbing students practicing belaying off the stone wall into the parking lot below (are they allowed to do that?). The sun had broken through and warmed things up, and I would have stayed longer to enjoy it all but nature called. So I thew on my rain jacket as a windbreaker and sped back to the porta-potty I'd noted on the way up, then descended the rest of the way back down the hill. It had taken me some fifteen to twenty minutes to climb the thing, and less than five to descend.

The weather turned after I crossed 82nd and started for home, splattering me with big, wet raindrops which I didn't really mind at all. By the time I got home I felt a little bit of a chill and was ready to end my ride. A good choice. Total: 16.4 miles in two hours.

it's the last week of march, for heaven's sake

Fri, 28 Mar 2008 14:57:47 GMT

As I type this, at almost 8am, it is snowing. In Portland. During the last week of March.

I mowed the lawn for the first time last week! I replaced the rechargeable batteries in the solar-powered sidewalk lamps! I cleaned the space behind the shed and scooped up a buncha moss and stuff. I've gathered a dozen dead bicycle wheels for my fence repair project. I'm so ready for it to be spring, and then look what happens.

It's SNOWING.

Wow.

livestrong: update

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 23:19:07 GMT

Here's an update on my Livestrong fundraising, because some of you have asked.

Goal: $1,000 bucks by June 15
Amount raised so far: 340 bucks as of March 27

As you can see, I'm over a third of the way there. Yippee!

Are you late to the party and want to learn more about the Livestrong Challenge and what it's for? Go here:

https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=262626&supid=205506606

70 miles, a thousand bucks. Yup, yup. Thanks to all who've contributed thus far and to everyone who's either ridden with me or offered encouragement. You all rock.

..::applause::..

on party affiliation

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 15:11:06 GMT

Once upon a time, I did not vote.

It's true. For a period of about seven years, during my hot and angry twenties, I simply allowed my voting self to fall off the earth's face. I moved, frequently, and did not re-register; and I did not vote from around 1986 through 1993. There were lots of reasons for this, but mostly they related to the sense of abject powerlessness I felt then. My vote did not matter, certainly not at the national level. My voice was too small to be heard above the shouting of the various special interests, the moneyed and the obscenely powerful. (I used to joke that I WOULD "eat the rich", if only they went better with barbecue sauce.) And when I looked at the Two Parties In Power, there wasn't enough of a difference between them to satisfy my skepticism; basically they were all Republocrats -- a bunch of rich, mostly-white guys in suits, unmoved by the plight of the poor and untouched by the social and economic problems that crippled many of their constituents. They didn't take me seriously, and I could not take them seriously in turn. So I simply stopped voting. I also made a point of earning as little as possible and making my personal economy as underground as possible. I scavenged, I bartered, I very occasionally stole. While I gave up on stealing, I'm still a bit of an underground scavenger and trader, and I defy The Government to do much of anything about it.

..::fingers wiggling madly from my nose as I intone the magic words: Nyah-nyah::..

In the early 1990's, Oregon underwent a series of mean, divisive election cycles based around two major issues: gay civil rights and land use. I watched and worried, and yet I didn't believe in my vote enough to re-register. Then in 1994 I moved to the tiny town of Waldport (pop. 1600) and suddenly, my vote counted for LOT. It always does, at the local level. At the urging of my new friends, I finally re-registered to vote in Waldport, Oregon. But I decided I would vote on my terms, and with my own authentic voice. So I registered as "Other" (there is that option here), and filled in the blank ("write party name here", it directed) with the words "The Bethness Party". A party of one, and a party to whom I have pledged my undying allegiance ever since. When I explained it all to my friends, they stared at me in disbelief, then howled with laughter and understanding, and slapped me on the back in congratulations. I had returned to the ranks of the voting in grand style.

The Bethness Party takes no money from special interests (unless they're stupid enough to jut leave it on my porch, like the 600 bucks I'll get in May; and then, well, yeah, I'm gonna get caught up on my bills without feeling beholden). The Bethness Party has no dress code, no special secret handshake, and endorses the sacred right of every human being to exist without being hassled, even if they're mentally ill, can't hold down a "real" job, or live up to society's rigid expectations of Keeping Up With The Jonses Or Whomever's Handy. The Bethness Party's motto is (pick one or all that apply): "Live And Let Live", "Be Kind To Your Neighbors", "Make No War", and "The Government Is a Lying Sack Of Shit In Desperate Need Of Some Serious Self-Control".

It feels good to be so fully, honestly me, and to have found a party so much in step with my values. I still hold my nose when I cast my vote -- the overall slate of candidates hasn't broadened enough for my liking and I still think we pay too much in taxes for what we get in return (did I give permission for my money to be spent on a stupid and illegal war?) -- but at least I'm doing it with my voice and from where I see the world.

However, there is a small catch, a price I pay for choosing to speak with my most authentic voice. Oregon has a closed primary, and I cannot vote in it unless I change my party affiliation to Republocrat. That the state's primary is closed is, on the one hand, a loud-and-clear reflection of the most universal truth that politics isn't for everyone: only certain kinds of people can vote, and they had better Fit In. On the other hand, a closed primary is a clear invitation to Those Who Stand Outside to make the most of their status, to use their position to educate and point out the holes in the system; and that is why I don't plan to change my affiliation anytime soon. If enough "independents" remain true to their values and rabble-rouse/demonstrate/protest/shop-or-don't shop outside the given parameters, then perhaps one day The Two Parties In Power will either mature and expand their positions to welcome the independents in; OR the state will mature and expand the primary to let more parties in. Either way, I'm not going to sell out now.

Best of all, I have the luxury of taking this principled stance because Oregon tends to be a place where Nothing Important happens most of the time. So our state will very likely NOT be a deciding factor in this election. And in an odd sort of way, I'm actually okay with that.

I'm a proud, registered member of The Bethness Party.
And I WILL vote, even if I can't do it until November.
Screw the two-party system.
Independents Unite!
Or not.
That's why we're called Independents.

how to train smart?

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 16:28:30 GMT

Looking at the calendar, it feels more and more like a 200km brevet is out of reach this year. I simply can't seem to schedule enough riding to get in the miles. There's work, there's stuff at home, and there's my [bleep-bleep-expletive deleted] ever-changing energy level. And there's the challenge of figuring out how to balance all that.

I ran into Michael Wolfe last night on my way to temple. We stopped and chatted for a few minutes. He's organizing the brevet I have planned to ride in July for my 200km attempt. I told him I'm having a tough time figuring out how to make it all work so I feel like I can go into this thing prepared. He told me it's not necessarily about quantity but quality of miles, suggesting that shorter distances can be useful and not to shrug them off. I promised that if I could ride I would, and if I couldn't I'd come be a ride-along helper at the event that day. He thanked me and promised that later in the spring we'd go riding together.

The one thing that no one seems to be able give me any useful advice about is the whole energy level thing. I feel like I am in a never-ending struggle with Crohn's disease. Some days it feels like I can pretend its not there.

Last Sunday was a perfect example of a body that was ready to go and didn't have to make a bunch of pit stops and Just Felt Good for almost the entire ride. Only in the last five miles or so did I really feel seriously taxed (and considering that I hadn't ridden much in the three weeks prior to Sunday, my 37 miles felt respectable).

Other days there is nothing I can do to make my body work -- too many pit stops, too much fatigue at the outset, inability to digest fuel efficiently so I won't bonk. Other folks who aspire to long-distance riding experience these things, but there's often a reason for a bad day that they can trace back to its source. Sometimes I can't trace anything back. Or, more accurately, I can trace it back but don't want to acknowledge the source, which is the unpredictability of living with active [symptomatic] Crohn's disease. The unpredictability of it all is what makes it so hard to be consistent. I had a pretty amazing ride on Sunday, because I had no body issues and finished the ride quite tired but in good shape. Those days are rare. They don't happen often enough for me to feel that I can depend on certain strategies and practices to get me certain, predictable results.

I ride to and from work. I try to eat reasonably well and get enough sleep, both of which provide some challenges. I also take two medications every day and spend more time in the bathroom than anyone really ought to have to. Most of the time it's merely an inconvenience, a thing to be worked around. When it comes to my desire to be a stronger, longer bicycle rider, it feels more like a Serious Drag.

So I worry that I may never be able to work my way up to a 200km distance, time limit or not. I did get some good advice from a Livestrong organizer who knows some of the OrRando crowd: he advised me that, with this kind of unpredictability, it might be a good idea to be prepared to switch courses at the Livestrong ride and ask to ride the 40 mile course if my body feels less than its best that morning. While it's comforting to know that I have options, what I really want, in my heart of hearts, is not to need them.

I KNOW that most women my age aren't doing this kind of riding, let alone riding for transportation every day. I KNOW that most women my age are living lives far more sedentary than mine. But there's this weird thing in my head, an annoying little tic that won't shut off, a six-inch-high mini-me inside that dreams Walter Mitty dreams of greatness and strength and fortitude and wants to be able to go the insane distance of 200 kilometers in a day, even if only just once in my freaking life.