My Last Week of the 9 Mile Commute

What motorist actually enjoys driving on busy city streets? Who would actually miss commuting? For me, the commute used to be the most stressful and aggravating part of my day - but that was before I starting riding a bike to work.

On Friday, I’m switching offices at my job, and my commute drops from 9 miles to 1. And although a few months ago when I drove my car I was quite excited about the prospect of a shorter commute, now that I travel by bike there’s a lot to miss.

I’ll be experiencing 1/9th of the excitement, adventure, and fun on my way to and from work than I did before. No longer will I have reason to hit the canal path on my way home. I’ll see fewer cyclists and pedestrians, and yes, I’ll even miss some of the motorists in their big metal cages. A lot of the sights and communities I’ve come to enjoy will no longer be part of my daily routine.

Sadder still, Thursday marks the last morning bikepool with Caitlin. You can read about all that was special about our morning rides in our little co-authored essay here. Not only did we make each other safer, but she’s become a close friend in the past few months.

We must accept change in our bike routes, of course. I can always fit in some random riding or extreme errand running to make up for lost commuting time. And it’s not like I won’t be allowed to see Caitlin anymore. I could even ride out in the morning with Caitlin then ride all the way back, if I really wanted to. And on days this winter when the weather gets truly awful, I’ll probably be quite happy that my commute is short enough to walk.

Anyway, this week the commutes have already been extra memorable.

The Bridge

Yesterday morning Caitlin and I took a special side journey to High Falls as we traveled through the city. At one point on our journey up St. Paul we were directed to take a detour onto the Inner Loop - a tractor trailer operator had tried to squeeze under an overpass and didn’t quite clear it, giving the trailer a nice accordion fold and tying up northbound traffic. Bikes don’t belong on the sidewalk, but they don’t belong on the Inner Loop either, so we headed up St. Paul on the Jack-Spula-approved Riverway Trail sidewalk.

We got to Pont De Rennes Bridge over the falls and a couple of guys asked if they could borrow our bikes to make a phone call. It was a very weird request. After we got our bikes back from them (just kidding) we stopped at the middle of the bridge to check out the view.

I have no idea what part of her bike Caitlin is adjusting here, but she has chosen a scenic location to do so.

The mixed-use bridge is one of the very few places in the city with a designated bike path, and the little biker stencils were actually the basis for the RocBike logo.

Picture this graphic in 3D and in a Walz Cycling Cap. That would make an awesome logo for this site.

As we were on the bridge, I gave Caitlin a token of my friendship, a copy of the book Meat Market by Erik Marcus. Universally acclaimed books about factory farming make great gifts!

Riding with Squegeeboo

That evening my commute home was suddenly dark, as Daylight Savings Time is wont to do (Dear government: I prefer more daylight in the evening, not the morning). As I approached a traffic circle stop light I saw a fellow cyclist approach from behind. We confirmed each other’s bike commutingness with much excitement. He introduced himself as squegeeboo from the Bike Forums. He said his car stopped working last year and he figured he’d start riding a bike. His secret to riding in the winter? Pajama pants, and lots of ‘em!

Although squegeeboo left me in the dust when we started moving again (Jason and I are both quite familiar with trailing behind) we kept meeting up again at traffic lights. I suggested that he contribute some stories to this group blog. And then in a long traffic-light-free stretch I watched as his little blinkie rear light moved farther and farther away. I think I can stand to push myself a little more.

The Bustastrophe

This morning I set out without Caitlin (Election Day is a vacation day for her!). Right when I left my driveway it started to lightly sprinkle. Within ten minutes it was a downpour, and foolishly I did not come properly dressed and reinforced for a major storm. I decided to go multi-modal and made my way to the downtown RTS bus stop.

I arrived just as my bus did. I loaded my bike onto the front rack (here’s a diagram of exactly what I did) and climbed into the bus.

My bike has the habit of falling off of vehicles. Or perhaps its operator (me) has the habit of not properly fastening it to vehicles. Regardless of their cause, sure enough, I noticed that the bus was making a stop in a non-designated stopping area and feared the worst. “Whose bike is this?” yells a chatty passenger standing by the driver. “Mine!” I yell out, making my way to the front of the bus.

As I approached I saw that the front restraining bar had bounced off of my bike, and my bike was now laying precariously on the edge of the rack, just one bounce away from being swept under the bus.

I tried to get out to fix it but the bus driver had already taken matters into her own hands and started to head out the door. Unfortunately, in getting out of her seat she knocked her cell phone to the floor, then her full cup of coffee onto her cell phone, and then her jacket onto the coffee. This was too much for her to take so she started kicking her RTS jacket out of the bus towards the large puddle outside. Once she was satisfied that things were ruined enough, we exited the bus.

Upon arriving at the rack next to the driver it quickly became apparent that she had no familiarity with RTS bike racks, as she started pulling and pushing various parts that had nothing to do with securing my bike. I pulled the restraining bar back over my front wheel, stopping short of the front fender as I always do, but once I got back in the bus the passenger who notified me that my bike had come loose told me it would come loose again. We both headed out and I pulled the restraining bar over my fender to his standards.

Once back inside the bus, the passenger said “Now look you made my wife spill her coffee.” The dynamic between the two was revealed. I tastefully replied with “Thank you so much for saving my bike!” and the husband replied “No problem, Homeboy,” which is the first time I’ve ever been called this.

I wonder how often bikes meet their doom on these racks. Although I did not initially pull the restraining bar all the way up on the fender like the husband said I’m supposed to, this Canadian transit page says “Make sure the support arm is resting on the tire and not on the fender or frame.” Many other sites say the exact same thing. I can see how using the fender as a pressure point could be a very bad idea. But what’s the use of preserving your front fender if the support arm comes loose and your bike ceases to exist as a bike?

This guy, who is a huge nerd, has not placed the bike on the rack properly because the support arm is not pulled up high enough. Also, the bus driver is probably getting quite angry at him for taking the time to pose for this picture.

If I acquire a folding bike at some point I will do a much better job of avoiding these potential bike disasters. Or I can just get better at attaching my bike to things. Either one will do.

And the Conclusion

So, in conclusion, that’s three interesting commutes so far this week, and the week is only getting started. I’ll miss you, 9 mile ride. Unless the weather’s really bad. Even then, I’ll probably miss you.

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