I mentioned in an earlier post that I go to my friend Chuck’s place once a month to listen to music, eat food and wave maniacally at the passersby. During our July event, Chuck mentioned that the Floating Patio docked on the canal across from his house has never left port.

And then, on a dark and stormy sunlit afternoon, I caught sight of a water phenomenon rarer than Nessie:

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The Floating Magical Patio of Dreams takes to the water like a duck to … er … water

That’s right, yours truly, Mr. RocBike took photos of the elusive beast as it cruised the waters of the Erie Canal in search of prey or canapes or whatever it is a Floating Patio searches for.

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Gotta admit, it looks fun, doesn’t it?

I’ve also noticed these signs up all along the Canalway Trail:

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If your membership organization is looking for a way to help cyclists and other human-powered movers, this might be a cool way to do it. It beats adopting a highway.

Last winter, I started to make some changes in my life. Among these was my first visit to a gym. I joined our local YMCA and started doing cardio (StairMaster and stationary bike) and lifting weights. That’s not that shocking a sentence to write for most folks, even sedentary folks. But I was not only a non-exerciser, I was an anti-exerciser. I watched in high school as music programs got cut and sports teams got new fields and uniforms. I disliked jocks, mostly because they disliked kids who used their brains more often than their biceps.

In my mid- to late-20s, I started to really enjoy soccer, which I now follow avidly. My opinion about sports began to change, or at least my ability to appreciate them began to change. I started watching minor league baseball whenever I lived someplace with a team. I cheered on the Boston Red Sox whenever I caught them on TV.

And then in January, after ballooning up over the winter and dealing with some other issues, I decided to get in shape and make some changes. Seven months later, I feel like a different person. I’m (somewhat) in shape, I’ve lost at least 20 lbs., and I’m on my bike every single day. In fact, I’ve barely turned my car on since June! I was saying to my wife today that I can hardly believe it’s me we’re talking about. And the weirdest part of it all? It was easy. Anyone can do it.

My commute is very short, but I still racked up 354.2 miles in July, up from 192 miles in June (although I didn’t get my cycle computer until partway through June, so that’s not an accurate number). I averaged 10.3 miles per day since June, even though my round-trip commute is just 3.8 miles. My goal is to commute by bike year-round. Wish me luck!

Jason’s note: I’ve asked my friend and veteran cyclist Jack Bradigan Spula to contribute to RocBike.com. Here’s the fourth part of Jack’s essay about his recent trip through the northeast. You can also read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.

The hour-long ride across Lake Champlain was perfect: long distance views, smooth water, the city of Burlington glowing in the afternoon sun. And then there was the look backward, with a stunning panorama of the High Peaks, which during most of my Vermont visits have been obscured by fog or rain – but this time were as clear in detail as an etching.

A classic college town defined by the ever-expanding University of Vermont and a very progressive local government, Burlington is a great place to visit – and you’d want to live there, too. Several blocks of a downtown arterial have been turned into a pedestrian mall, similar to what’s found in Ithaca, except in Burlington there are more sidewalk cafes, clubs, and crowds. And the “City Market,” an immense co-op that actually functions as a downtown supermarket (though, to judge by my several visits at different times of day, not with as inclusive a shopper demographic as we’d want). The city is also well-equipped with bike shops, high-end and otherwise; I dropped in at one to get a new frame pump to replace the inefficient one I’d been carrying (don’t’ leave home without a good pump, a spare tube, a tool kit, and just as important, some basic maintenance and repair skills), plus a replacement rear tire that I hoped would make the tube and tools unnecessary.

Also like Ithaca, Burlington has long had something that most American cities can only dream of: something like actual democracy, where some power has been taken from the usual business interests and vested in the majority. The current mayor, Bob Kiss, is a member of the Progressive Party, the support structure for former Burlington mayor Bernie Sanders, now an independent socialist US Senator. The Burlington Progressives also have four members on the city council, counterweighted by some Democrats and Republicans. I don’t want to romanticize Burlington and the “People’s Republic of Vermont,” nor will I ignore the damage that standard capitalistic growth patterns are doing to this and other parts of the state. (Cf. the Route 7 corridor south of Burlington, a late example of standard-issue suburbanization.) But some good stuff is happening in Burlington and all of Vermont that we New Yorkers should envy – and emulate.

Burlington’s got a great interlocking system of bike trials, which run along the lakeshore, by rail yards, through old industrial zones, and out into the burbs and countryside.

You can make a whole vacation of exploring this system and stopping along the way at parks, pubs, etc. Don’t look for an Erie Canal or Genesee Valley Greenway type of extended touring trail, however. I checked the maps, and I also consulted with knowledgeable staff at a non-motorized transportation advocacy group called Local Motion, which has an trailside office at the harbor, and I couldn’t find any long distance off-road routes anywhere in Vermont.

Of course, Vermont has many scenic highways and back roads. But they look a little different from behind the handlebars than through a windshield. More about that in the next installment, where I’ll cover my circuit through the highs and lows of Central Vermont and the Green Mountains.

Jason: Le bike de cheap (Comments: 4)

Author: Jason
Date: 29 July, 2007
Category: Cycling Thoughts

Bike of Doom

Steve George is (a) a guy I work with, but also (b) a different guy with the same name who lives in Canada and rides the Bike of Doom, a cheap bike he bought for C$99 at a hardware store. His experiment is to see how well that bike holds up for regular commuting with basic maintenance. He’s a wonderful writer and the whole thing is worth your time. I just spent 45 minutes reading all his posts from March until today. Check him out:

BikeOfDoom.com

An aside: Steve writes about some of the bikes available at places like Wal-Mart. As a union organizer, I can never suggest that you shop at Wal-Mart. But if you do anyway (you mean you don’t take life direction from me?), Steve’s tips are well worth a read if you want your Wal-Bike to keep running.

I bought a set of Power Grips this month on the advice of a column in The Practical Pedal, which said they’re great for bike commuters. I was looking for a good pedal that didn’t involve clipping in or other things that seem like a pain in the neck when you’re stopping every 100 yards at a traffic light. I’ve now been riding the Power Grips for a couple weeks, and they’re fantastic.

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Easy on, easy off

Power Grips were designed a couple decades ago for mountain bikers. In this era of technological innovation, anything more than 10 minutes old seems hopelessly outdated, but Power Grips shouldn’t get chucked on the scrap heap, particularly if you’re an urban cycle commuter. As you can see from the picture above, they couldn’t be simpler. A strap made of Space-Age-Lex or some other top-secret material runs from one corner of the pedal to the other. When you stick your foot in at an angle, the strap is loose. When you straighten your foot, it tightens. Got that, all you engineering majors out there? Like I said, simple.

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You can adjust them to your preferred level of “power-grippiness”TM

They’re fully adjustable. If you’re actually a mountain biker, you might want them tighter so you stay attached to the bike as it hurtles off the cliff and down the side of the gorge to end up in a crumpled … er … anyway, you might want them tighter. If you’re like me, you’re more concerned with ease of removal than with vice-gripping your tootsies to the pedals. You never know when you’ll have to ditch your commute-o-cycle to avoid that Hummer.

As with any piece of cycling equipment, the real question is: “How cool do these make me look?” As I’ll think you’ll agree, the evidence is incontrovertible:

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Big Daddy McCool and his Power Grips

A word of warning, the Power Grips Web site was fairly craptacular when I ordered mine. It seems to be better now, but you can also just call them toll-free at 800-999-8277.

The Emma Goldman tour will now happen on August 3, due to rain in the forecast.

When I used to drive everywhere, I passed Persimmon Park on South Clinton Ave in Brighton just about every day. It’s marked by a sign that flashes past you almost faster than you can read it as you barrel down the steep hill in your car:

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This has to be the smallest park in Brighton at 11 acres

Today I was riding by on my bike and decided to stop. I decided to stop rather quickly, which lead to some embarrassment later on. The park covers 11 acres, most of which were donated to the town. It features forest, wetlands and a bird garden on the spot where the house of a bird-loving couple once stood.

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A park bench offers an inviting place to sit and read, even if it’s a bit close to the entrance, and thus to the road

I mentioned that I decided quickly to stop at the park. That meant I didn’t down-shift. Later, when I was leaving, I put one foot into my new Power Grips and started to pedal. I was in the highest gear, though, so the bike didn’t move an inch. At least not forward. It moved quite nicely toward the ground, taking me with it. Luckily I was in a tiny park surrounded by trees, so no one saw my graceful collapse to the grass.

Later in the day, the Cranes hopped into one trailer and onto two bikes to travel in environmentally friendly style to the South Wedge Farmers Market, one of the coolest new things in Rochester. For the first time, my wife Jen joined us on a “bike.” I put that word in quotation marks because the bike was my sister’s 400-year-old mountain bike, the chain of which looked like a Visigoth had used it to sack Rome. And the helmet? Don’t get me started on the helmet. I can see now why my sister never rides that bike. Jen is a courageous person, though, and she made it work!

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Jen braves the bike (and that helmet!) to ride zero-emissions-style to the Farmers Market

The market features a dozen or more regional vendors of everything from veggies to flowers to meat to organic honey. It’s the new Thursday afternoon gathering place for folks who care about what they eat and where they get it.

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The bustling South Wedge Farmers Market, which runs Thursdays from 4-8 at the corner of Alexander and South Clinton, behind Boulder Coffee

Including our two bikes, I saw eight bikes during our 30 minutes at the market. I also saw a cool bike with a trailer attached that said DIRECT DELIVERY COMING SOON. Very hip!

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Looks like the Farmers Market will soon be pedaling to a house near you

  • The rest of my park and market photos are here.

Jason’s note: I’ve asked my friend and veteran cyclist Jack Bradigan Spula to contribute to RocBike.com. Here’s the third part of Jack’s essay about his recent trip through the northeast. You can also read Part 1 and Part 2.

I’m seriously behind in chronicling my big bike trip of 2007 – the last installment ended in the Adirondacks, and since then I’ve hit the shores of Lake Champlain, Burlington (VT), the high points (and low) of the Green Mountains, the Mass. Berkshires, the Pioneer Valley, NE Connecticut, much of Rhode Island, and the budding bicycle magnets of Brooklyn and Manhattan. So let me take these one at a time.

After leaving Lake Placid, I headed down Route 86 through rocky Wilmington Notch, where I had an unusually clear view of Whiteface Mountain. I say unusual because in recent years, if the fog doesn’t obscure the summit, the particulate pollution does. Only we oldtimers recall how long the vistas used to be in these mountains, before the monster smokestacks of the Midwest and eastern Great Lakes sent so much stuff in our direction. Acid rain has infamously struck the Adirondacks, but acid deposition, via particulates, comes in any weather – and the fine particles produce a haze that limits the view. Still, the mountains are compelling. Whenever I pass through the High Peaks region, I get nostalgic. So many backpacking trips with friends and family. So many bracing climbs in all seasons and conditions, so many rainy but wonderful trudges up and down Algonquin, Marcy, Cascade, etc.

All along Route 86 between Placid and Jay, I saw bikers/triathletes in training – dozens of them. Lake Placid is of course a major athletic training center with state-of-the-art facilities, but still I was surprised to see so many pedalers on the road. Jay itself is a quiet hamlet; I took a half-mile side trip to see a covered bridge that’s being reconstructed. (Yes, NY State has a good share of this type of bridge, which through the miracle of marketing has become so closely associated with New England.)

I have to admit that for most of the ride between Jay and the west side of Lake Champlain, I was fixated on getting to the ferry at Port Kent that goes across to Burlington, Vermont. I also had to watch the road surface a good deal, since it wasn’t as smooth and inviting as it had been. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing worth seeing on that route. Indeed, the edge of the plateau offers scenery with two personalities: over your shoulder there are the mountains receding, darkening as the sun sets; and before you is more open country leading to the expanse of the lake, which since the 1990s has officially been the “sixth Great Lake.” It’s much smaller than the Big Five, of course. By the way: Why is it that Lake Superior is considered the largest of the five? Though this ranking business inevitably involves arbitrary standards and judgments, it’s obvious that Superior, which I dearly love, is much smaller than Michigan-Huron, which has a level connector (the Straits of Mackinac) and by rights should be considered a single lake.

Anyway, Champlain is easily crossed by bike – and I don’t mean pedal-boat. All you need to do is get the Port Kent-Burlington ferry, a traditional and long-successful operation that costs only $4.70 for a walk-on plus a buck for your bike. A lesson for any community that longs for such service. (In a future installment I’ll discuss the equally pleasurable fast ferry service between Providence and Newport, RI – bike-friendly and cheap.)

Jason: Living car-lessly (Comments: 0)

Author: Jason
Date: 25 July, 2007
Category: Cycling Thoughts

After the demise of their family Volvo, Alan Durning and his family decided to try living car-free for one year. Durning is the director of Sightline, Cascadia’s sustainability think tank.

In his series, The Year of Living Car-lessly, on Sightline’s Daily Score blog, Alan explores the benefits and dilemmas that arise from being a car-less family with three kids. And readers from across the region (and other Sightline staffers) are chiming in with their experiences, questions, and tips on living car-lessly.

Durning is also writing another series called Bicycle Neglect. It’s worth a read. Here are the stories so far:

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"Driving a car versus riding a bike is on par with watching television rather than living your own life." -- Bruce MacAlister

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