A prospective Xtracycle buyer asked the following on the Roots Radicals group (an email list of Xtracycle owners & fellow travellers):

So I’ve got a bike and I’m thinking of getting the Free Radical extension. I’ve got a seven year old and other kid-carrying options aren’t working that great (outgrew the trailer, trail-a-bike is awfully shaky). This xtracycle thing seems like a pretty great solution. However, I only have the kid and/or cargo about half the time. Is it easy to take off the long tail and make it a regular bike and then back again when you need it? Do you just ride the long tail with nothing in it? Do you have two bikes? — Karen

The responses are great (read them here) — and all in favor of just riding the X all the time. I agree. Well, maybe I’ll do this year’s Livestrong Challenge on something else…

The fine folks at Xtracycle just finished a video contest to find the best video about their new PeaPod LT child seat. Here’s the winning video:

not big enough b/w fixed from Kate Oshea on Vimeo.

More videos are available at the Xtracycle site.

Tow Truckin’ from Xtracycle on Vimeo.

Cool!

The Original Longtail | Xtracycle from Xtracycle on Vimeo.

When last we met (see the previous installment, “The (bald, chubby) eagle has landed,” I was in a Barnes & Noble in Somewhere, PA, figuring out where to park the Hotel Subaru for the night.

Albany Bob from Liberty On Bikes! had recommended a particular walled parking lot near the Livestrong Village, so I made my way over there and found a secluded spot near the wall. I jammed my sleeping bag into the back of the car, which is when I discovered that the car is a least a foot shorter than I am. With the Xtracycle also in the back, I had about an inch of clearance from the left pedal and maybe two inches from the handlebars. Sitting up quickly would mean certain death – or at least a badly bruised noggin.

It was 11:30 p.m. by this time. I set my phone alarm for 5 a.m. and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Seconds later, it was 5 a.m. I changed my shorts in the dark of the deserted parking lot, then did my best to brush my teeth and get my contacts in. I drove over to the Doubletree Hotel, where Team Fat Cyclist was gathering for a 6 a.m. group ride to the start line. There were about 30 of us at the hotel, including the man himself — Elden “Fatty” Nelson, whose blog about cycling and about his own family’s fight with cancer had inspired us all to be there in the first place. His appearance was met with a big cheer, and he hopped on his bike and led us away from the hotel. I rode in the back because it was still dark and I had my Down Low Glow blazing. I ended up riding with Fatty for about half the way, which was great. He’s got to be one of the most grounded human beings I’ve ever met. I don’t know how he does it.

A photo of the rollout taken by Jennie Laurita. The woman in the light-colored jersey is Lauren, and I’m just behind her.

Rolling out on The Packet Boat with Philly Jen. Note the Down Low Glow! (Photo by Creighton Higgins)

By the time we reached Livestrong Village and made our way to the start line, the sun had come out and it was looking to be a beautiful day. The rest of Team Fatty was waiting for us at the start line. I’m not sure how many of us there were, but it a big, big gang. Fatty addressed the crowd to many cheers, and then Philly Jen read from the donation page of the person who had won a set of Shimano wheels and pedals. As it turned out, it was Albany Bob, who told me after the fact that he never wins anything. (By the way, check out the very moving work Bob did to the back of his van.)

Because Team Fatty Philly had raised a bazillion dollars, we got to start first. We all crowded up to the start line where the Livestrong photographers snapped a group shot. I rode with Dan, one of the event organizers, and Lauren, who was riding her first event — and who had only started riding seriously a couple months before. Lauren and I decided to stay together because it was her first ride and we were both doing the 45-mile course. As you’ll learn, she eventually dropped me like a bad habit and finished in about half my time.

Albany Bob, Dan, me at the start line (Photo by Lana)

The south end of a northbound Xtracycle (Photo by Lana)

Albany Bob and yours truly (Photo by Kevin Kavanaugh

We rode out on the long, balloon-covered road from the start line, with hundreds of spectators cheering us on. The organizers said more than 6,000 people were riding, running or walking in the event, which is incredible. I’d never ridden in a group that large, and it was a thrill to see hundreds and hundreds of cyclists take to the roads in the morning sunlight.

Later in the ride, I heard that Lance Armstrong has told the organizers every year to make the courses harder and harder. “It’s supposed to be a challenge,” he is reported to have said. I will go into that in great detail in the nasty note I’ll be sending Lance. (Kidding!) All I can say is: The first 20 or so miles were great, and the rest comprised the hardest ride I’ve ever done in my life.

First of all, I rode my Xtracycle**. If you’ve ever been to RocBike before, you’ve seen my bike. It’s a Giant Sedona hybrid with massive tires and a big cargo bike kit on the back. It weighs a lot. A lot a lot. Too much, some might say. To me, riding the Xtracycle was part of the challenge. That’s because I’m an idiot.

Second, I never really looked at the elevation charts provided by the fine sadists at Livestrong. Had I done that, I would have quickly realized that there was no way I could actually ride my bike for 45 miles on the course they’d laid out, no doubt late at night in a dimly lit room with chains and whips and an iron maiden in the corner. This course, you see, was Brutal with a capital “B.” In fact, I think it’s fair to say it was BRUTAL, with a capital-all-them-letters.

Like I said, it was fine in the beginning. Lauren and I stayed together and chatted while we rode, exchanging the little biographies that you trade in those situations. I was feeling fairly tired, and I hadn’t eaten (idiot), but I figured I could make it the 10 miles to the rest stop and load up on food there. That worked just fine. The first rest stop was incredible. Tons of food, water and Gatorade, and even free massages from the wonderful Tobi. I left feeling refreshed and ready to ride.

I think it was about mile 20 when the first big hill came. I live in Albany, and we have some big hills. But not like these hills. You see, here in Albany, the hills have tops. In Pennsylvania (which is Dutch for “granny gear”) the hills defy geography and just continue to go up. And up. And up some more. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but we climbed a hill that had everyone moaning and swearing, and at the top of the hill was a hill. Dan had rejoined us, and the three of us pulled off the road to rest and hydrate and eat for a minute. Lauren and Dan said they were ready to go, and I told them to go ahead and not wait for me.

It was then that I had my big crisis.

I was exhausted. A craptacular night of sleep in the Hotel Subaru, combined with a woeful lack of calories, had me shaking and feeling nauseous. I’ve never bonked, but I wondered if this was what it felt like. And I knew, for the first time ever on my bike, that I couldn’t make it.

That was when I thought about everything that had gotten me to this point. Cancer had hit my mother, my grandmother, my great-grandmother, my cousin, my great-uncle, my friend Travis (who died last year from testicular cancer), my grandfather and childhood hero Bernie Flanders (who passed away earlier this summer) … and most recently my Aunt Linda, who is battling breast cancer right now. She’s been a huge inspiration in my life, because she’s never been afraid to walk her own path, regardless of others’ opinions. I’d also spent several years watching Fatty and Susan fight cancer and rally others to their cause. And I’d been inspired to launch my own jazz raffle by the efforts of Fatty’s sister, Jodi. Moreover, I’d raised more than $2,200 with help from family, friends, colleagues and complete strangers. My Rotary club had gathered around me, too, supporting me with the first grant from the revived charity committee.

And that was when I knew that there was no turning back. I got back on the Packet Boat (my Xtracycle) and rode as far up the hill as I could go. Then I got off and walked the bike up the hill. Have I mentioned that it weighs a lot? Pushing it up hills really stinks.

I reached the second aid station and looked around for Lauren and Dan. They weren’t there, although Lauren later said they’d waited for me for quite a while. Who knows how long I’d stood at the bottom of that hill weighing my options?

The rest of the ride was a mixture of pedaling and walking, punctuated with wonderful conversations with my fellow riders. I chatted with Rob from Long Island, a member of Team Fatty who told me he’d played in a charity golf tournament the week before to raise money for autism, inspired by a family member who was diagnosed with autism. And here he was on a hot summer day, riding through the hills of eastern Pennsylvania.

I met Rhonda from Virginia. She’d seen cancer rip through her own family, and decided it was time to change the odds.

I was passed by a cyclist who turned to me as he passed and said, “This is where I quit last year!” Then he let out a whoop and pedaled up the hill. I interviewed him later for the audio piece I’m working on, and he broke down as talked about his dad’s fight with cancer.

That’s what the Livestrong ride is like. Every time you think you can’t possibly make it up one more hill, you find another wonderful person with a story that puts strength in your legs and stamina in your heart. Like the Holland and Wilson families, who both live at the top of big hills and who decided to hand out water to the riders as they passed. Or like the hundreds of volunteers who cheer on the riders, make the food, give massages, and congratulate you every step of the way. or the doctor who works at the one of the aid stations and bring his interns to do the same.

By the end of the ride, I had nothing left. The last few miles were a climb to the finish line, and I was sagging on my bike with my head hanging to one side. I was determined to ride the last few miles, and it took everything I could muster. The amazing thing was that as I struggled up the hills, rider after rider passed me and said “Go Team Fatty!” These people didn’t know me, and most of them didn’t know Fatty either. But they believed in the cause and were inspired by Team Fatty’s efforts.

And I made it up the hill.

I rode past the balloons and cheering crowds and PA announcer, and came to two of the other great moments on my ride. Standing at the finish line was Fatty, who I would later learn waited for every member of Team Fatty to finish. And right behind him was Albany Bob, who’d waited a long time for me to get there. That was a great moment, and a great gift from two very good guys.

The ride was, by far, the hardest physical activity I’ve ever done in my life. I’ve ridden farther, but never over a course like that. But it was also one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been given. To be a part of a larger movement, of people united by no thought other than doing good, of people drawn together by one family’s amazing story — that is truly something worth doing. Thanks, Fatty.

* As everyone knows, Xtracycle miles are like dog years. Thus, my 45 miles counted for 315 miles.

(I’ve been making an audio recording of the trip, too, so look for an episode of the RocBike Review after the ride.)

Photo by USA Today

By Bruce Horovitz, USA TODAY

Sarah Gilbert stepped off her bicycle long enough to send one angry tweet via Twitter— and it’s changed the way one fast-growing burger chain treats bike riders.

The 35-year-old blogger, freelance writer and mother of three doesn’t own a car. She gets around usually bike-friendly Portland, Ore., on a custom-made stretch bike that fits all three of her boys, ages 2, 4 and 7. A bumper sticker boasts: “One less minivan.”

But after biking last week into the drive-through of the local Burgerville— an eco-conscious burger chain that even recycles its used cooking oil into biodiesel — she tried to order four cheeseburgers.

No go. She was refused service at the drive-through for, of all things, ordering from a bike. Never mind that the environmentally friendly restaurant chain spent $185,000 on wind energy credits in 2008 to compensate for the electricity used in its 39 stores and at its corporate headquarters.

When Gilbert got home, she sent out a huffy tweet followed by a pointed letter to the chain, which she posted on her blog, cafemama.com. By the next day, the company apologized. In short order, the Vancouver, Wash.-based chain, with locations in Oregon and Washington, revamped its policy and will announce a new bicycle-friendly drive-through program on Sept. 8.

Read the rest of the story.

The Xtracycle Life: How to Make Your Bike a Purse

Charlie The Bikemonger tours Dorset, Somerset and Devon on a Surly Big Dummy Xtracycle bike. More at www.charliethebikemonger.com.

I’ve started riding my bike again to get ready for my Livestrong Challenge ride in Philly this August. (Please donate if you can.) This week, after many months, I also resumed commuting by bike again.

I began working for Capital Region BOCES earlier this year, and those offices are farther away than my union shops were. It’s about 8 miles from my house to BOCES HQ, where I work two days a week, and about 12 miles from my house to the school district office where I work the other three days.

Today I rode from home to the school district in Selkirk, NY, and back for the first time, about 24 miles. I took some photos on the way home.

This is my favorite sign in Selkirk:

From 144 Commute

I don’t know who came up with the idea of putting golf balls and rhubarb together, but it’s a classic.

Most of my commute is on Route 144, a primarily rural route through some tiny places such as Cedar Hill. A couple miles into the ride home, I came upon these lions, liberated from either “Guy Park” or “Cuy Park.”

From 144 Commute

As you can see, the structure they now protect is not particularly imposing:

From 144 Commute

Further on up the road is the somewhat secluded site of the Glenmont Job Corps Academy:

From 144 Commute

I don’t know much about the Job Corps, but this comes from the Web site:

Job Corps is a free education and training program that helps young people learn a career, earn a high school diploma or GED, and find and keep a good job. For eligible youth at least 16 years of age, Job Corps provides the all-around skills needed to succeed in a career and in life.

You can find out more by visiting jobcorps.gov.

Most of the commute looks like this, plus a hill here and there:

From 144 Commute

And here’s a gratuitous picture of the Packet Boat, ready for action:

From 144 Commute

Sprinkled along 144 are forgotten houses like this one:

From 144 Commute

And here’s another wonderful sign. I like the idea of a wrathful Mother Nature:

From 144 Commute

A relic from a bygone error … I mean era:

From 144 Commute

I didn’t even know what this was at first, but it turned out to be a vintage electric car:

From 144 Commute

This is the bottom of the hill at Second Ave and Pearl. This is the start of 3/4 of a mile of climbing, much of it at a 7% grade. The picture doesn’t do it justice:

From 144 Commute

My legs were jelly at the end, but I made it the whole way.

It sure does feel good to be back on the bike.

The rest of the pictures from today’s ride are here.

I enjoyed this post on Xtracycle’s Everyday Adventures blog about using cargo bikes to do some curbside “shopping.”

My e-mail client (Thunderbird) just tried to replace the word “Xtracycle” with the word “tetracycline.”

So.

Last night I rode my bike to Tess’s Lark Tavern for the monthly Poets Speak Loud event. It was an open mic followed by a walk to the Robert Burns statue in Washington Park, upon which a daring poet placed a beret. I’ll talk more about the event over at jasoncrane.org, but I wanted to mention a tangential fact about it here on RocBike.

Last night’s bike ride was my first time on a bike since … maybe September.

There, I said it. The founder of RocBike, former board member of the New York Bicycling Coalition and blogger about car-free living no longer rides a bike.

When I was transferred to the Albany area in November 2007, I lived in Saratoga Springs for the first few months. Most of my job duties, though, were in Albany and Schenectady, so I was on the road all the time and needed to be in my car. My family were still back in Rochester, so my eating habits suffered, too. Less good food, more fast food and food eaten in the car.

In the late winter or early spring of 2008, I moved into the city of Albany and started riding again. It was around that time that I started blogging again in earnest and joined the board of the New York Bicycling Coalition. I was also attending meetings of the Albany Bicycle Coalition, and blogging about the challenges of car-free or car-light living in my capacity as a Parent Panelist for the Albany Times Union newspaper.

When Jen and the boys moved back, I was still biking a fair amount. Jen got an Xtracycle like mine, and we biked a lot as a family. But then things started to change. I had already gained a fair amount of weight because of the changes in my lifestyle. I started driving most places and left the bike locked away. By the fall, I wasn’t riding at all. I was 35 pounds heavier than when I moved here. And my poor Packet Boat was dry-docked in the back shed.

Well, it’s time to get back on the horse. Look for updates from me about returning to the bike and making some much needed changes.

I’ve got nothing to lose but my chains! (And 35 or 40 pounds.)

After a pilot run in 2007, United Parcel Service is once again adding bicycle carriers to meet its holiday demand. It’s a tack that, like alternative fuel vehicles and other measures the company has historically taken to reduce operational costs, provides an attending environmental benefit in the form of reduced carbon-dioxide emissions.

According to Norman Black, a company spokesman, the bikes simply make sense at this time of year. “You and I are having this conversation on the peak day of the peak season when all the volumes come together and hit us at once,” Mr. Black said. “You can imagine what a challenge it is to be able to dramatically increase your network’s capacity to reliably deliver packages,” he added.

The company typically delivers nearly 15.8 million packages a day. During one five-day stretch of the pre-Christmas peak last year, that jumped to over 20 million a day.

Read the rest of the story at the Times site.

Courtest of Fossil Fool at Rock The Bike:

An hour after it arrived at Full Moon Vista, I received e-mail confirmation, and gave them a call. I found myself in an awkward conversation, trying to assure the fellow at FMV that I had called ahead to make sure shipping the Xtracycle kit directly to the bike shop was OK. I think he just wanted to know on principle, but I imagine they’d still be willing to do the work if I hadn’t called ahead. And then I scheduled an appointment for this past Monday. This is the first time I’ve had any work done at Full Moon Vista.

If you haven’t been to Full Moon Vista yet, you should check it out. 

Today, I got the call: the Xtracycle was complete. I headed on in and they brought her out. It was love at first sight.

I’ve named her “The Chicken Avenger,” because that’s the name Jason gave me for all the work I do to help chickens. They’re the most abused animal on the face of the planet, and my Xtracycle will help me stand up for them in a lot of ways! Plus, it makes a cool bike name.

So I paid for the work, hopped on my bike, and I was off.

Ah, entering the world of long bikes. 

But, after heading a few blocks on the bike, I realized there was a problem with the chain slipping. So I turned her around and headed back to the shop. Dave, the mechanic who had worked on the Avenger, rode her around and diagnosed it as a worn out cassette.

I hope his name is Dave. It would be a jerk thing to get his name wrong. 

You see, I’ve traveled many thousands of miles on this bike over the past year, which had done a number on my chain. A worn out chain has a way of wearing out the cassette. The new long chain on my bike simply didn’t jive with the old cassette, so $26.99 later and I was back on the road without a slip to speak of.

With a drivetrain that is half-new and wheels that I learned how to true myself, my bike feels almost new again! I remember what I love about her now and see so much more to love, so I think we’re going to be spending a lot more quality time together going forward.

It’s like the pickup truck version of a bike. 

The first thing I did with the Avenger was ride to Abundance Coop and stock up on massive quantities of delicious vegan foods. I was nervous about fitting everything in, but once I started playing around with the well-designed system of straps I realized that it’s hard to imagine a limit to what the Xtracycle can carry.

The straps on either side can actually reach over the back deck, fastening pretty much anything in place. 

Team RocBikers or other good friends/trustworthy acquaintances in the area are more than welcome to take the Avenger for a spin. Just let me know. And I’ll let you know how life with her goes.

And, in regards to Full Moon Vista, I’ll definitely be headed back. Dave was the best thing about FMV; I’ve been insulted or seriously let down by bike mechanics before (want me to go into that?), but Dave was patient, honest, and very friendly.

Technorati Tags: bike shop, xtracycle

Technorati Tags: animation, xtracycle

I talked with Loren while we pedaled and asked him to write about his experiences for RocBike. He already knew about us (thanks, Google!) and said he would. So look for dispatches from PedicabLandia coming soon.

From the Albany Business Journal:

The owner of the new Albany Rickshaw Co. has teamed up with the Lark Street Business Improvement District to promote his pedicab business.

Loren Grugan, a 17-year Albany Police Officer, formed his rickshaw company in July and hopes to expand it from one pedicab to six by spring.

The rickshaws, which run from 6 p.m. to midnight Thursday through Saturday, also will be leased out to independent contractors, Grugan said.

The business had been delayed getting off the ground while Grugan finds insurance that will cover himself as well as independent contractors that he plans to hire.

Read the rest of the story here and previous coverage of this story on RocBike here.

The fine folks at EcoVelo just let me know about their site. Here’s their description:

Utilizing bicycles for transportation to reduce our impact on the environment.

Welcome to EcoVelo. This site is the public expression of our personal commitment to reduce our impact on the environment by employing bicycles as our primary mode of transport. By sharing what we learn from this endeavor, while also providing an aesthetically pleasing experience that celebrates the beauty of the bicycle and the joys of everyday bike riding, we hope to inspire others to make a similar commitment.

Thanks for visiting-
Alan & Michael

So head on over, and tell ‘em RocBike sent you!

After posting my story about our bicycle camping adventure, I was contacted by Don Lubach from s24o.com, a site dedicated to the Sub-24-Hour Overnight bicycle excursion. Head on over there and check out Doug’s site, and tell him that RocBike sent you.

We had our first bike camping adventure this weekend, and it was great!

We decided to start easy, with a family camping event at Five Rivers Environmental Education Center in nearby Delmar, New York. Here’s a bit of history about Five Rivers, which started out as a Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camp in the New Deal era:

Five Rivers is a place where conservation began, and today the Environmental Education Center proudly carries forward this long legacy of environmental stewardship. From 1933-36, a resident Civilian Conservation Corps built brooder houses, dammed streams and fenced fields to create New York’s first and only State Experimental Game Farm. For 40 years, state biologists conducted a comprehensive and widely acclaimed study of the ruffed grouse, while raising a variety of game species for release.

Research biologists at the site’s Wildlife Resources Laboratory, established in 1941, field tested new techniques in wildlife management, many of which revolutionized the profession and put New York in the forefront of a growing national conservation movement. The technique of aging deer by dentition, the use of cannon-nets for live-trapping, and the abundance of mallards in the eastern flyway are all directly attributable to this early work on the grounds. Today, the careful visitor can spot many elements which recall the storied Game Farm era.

Five Rivers is 8 miles from our house. We rode the entire way on Delaware Ave, which is hilly, but not too bad. We’ve had a ton of rain this summer in Albany, and it rained on Thursday and early in the day on Friday. As we headed out on the road, we noticed rain clouds coming in. By the time we’d gone a couple miles, the clouds were really coming quickly:

Soon we were riding through a light rain. We pulled into the Bethlehem Public Library and waited for a few minutes under an overhang near the entrance. It seemed clear that the rain wasn’t going to let up, and that was the moment to decide whether this was an FFA (Fun Family Adventure) or an HHM (Horrible Horrible Mistake). We decided to go for it.

Delmar is a pretty little town, but Deleware Avenue leaves something to be desired. Some of the time, there’s a wide shoulder. Some of the time, there are two lanes. And other times? Curves and no shoulder. Huzzah! We eventually decided to use a sidewalk that was otherwise unoccupied, making a nice bike path:

Later that evening, Jen told me that at just about the point where she was thinking about turning back … we arrived! Wet, but happy, we made it to Five Rivers. The staff members were quite surprised to see us ride in. In fact, they were trying at that point to figure out whether to move the camping outing into the visitors center. They decided not to because, as a staffer said later, “We figured you campers must be pretty hardcore if you showed up on bikes.” (They were talking about us. Weird!) We pedaled over to our campsite.

Within a few minutes — and with help from another camper, Kevin — our tent was set up. We hadn’t used it since last summer, and we’d only used it once then, so weren’t even sure we’d remember how to put it together. It was easy though, even in the light rain. By the time we finished, the rain had stopped and never started again.

Ten families signed up for the camping trip, but half of them canceled because of the weather. The folks who came were great. Bernie immediately befriended a boy named Jake and they spent the rest of the time chasing each other and kicking a ball around. John took a quick liking to Allie, a Student Naturalist at Five Rivers. One thing we didn’t realize was that the fire wasn’t going to be made until 8:30 at night. We brought hot dogs for dinner, so we dug into our snack food and figured we’d appreciate the hot dogs that much more when we ate them later that evening.

At about 7:30, Five Rivers staffer Anita led us on a nature walk. We saw fields full of gorgeous wildflowers, deer and slugs. That’s right, slugs. The kids got to hold the slugs and learn just how sticky they are. It was great.

The fire was ready by the time we finished our walk, so we broke out the hot dogs. Other folks had marshmallows and Jiffy Pop popcorn. As you know, I’m all about making it easy, so I roasted three dogs at once using my patented Three Weenie Roaster (TM):

We went on a firefly walk after dinner. One of the staffers was collecting firefly data for the Firefly Watch sponsored by the Boston Museum of Science. We counted fireflies and wrote down the numbers so that she could submit our totals.

Then it was back to camp for a good night’s sleep. Bernie and John — and their parents — fell asleep very quickly.

This morning we were up at about 7 or so. We snacked on organic pop tarts, gorp and juice. Jen and I broke down the tent and packed the bikes. We took one more hike…

…took some photos…

…and then pedaled home.

In total: 16 miles, 18 hours, 4 happy people!

You can view all our photos from trip online:

080808 Five Rivers

]]> http://www.rocbike.com/2008/08/09/five-rivers-adventure/feed/ 8 http://www.rocbike.com/2008/08/06/more-haulin/ http://www.rocbike.com/2008/08/06/more-haulin/#comments Wed, 06 Aug 2008 14:46:37 +0000 Jason Crane http://www.rocbike.com/?p=1629 Here are more photos of the Cranes on our Xtracycles. These were taken by my mom on Washington Ave in Albany in front of El Mariachi.

That’s quite a load I’m carrying — and there’s a lot of stuff on the bike, too.

The last three times I’ve been on my Xtracycle in Washington Park, it has rained on otherwise sunny days. The most recent time was today, when it rained only while I was in the park.

After careful scientific observation, and with an appropriately American amount of avarice, I have come up with the following proposal:

People Of Albany!

For $5 per day, I will pledge NOT to ride my Xtracycle through Washington Park, thereby ensuring nice weather.

Please note, this does not mean $5 per person per day, merely $5 per day. At that rate, given Albany’s population of 90,000 people, you’ll only have to contribute once every 18,000 years. Seems fair to me. Look for a PayPal button soon.

I highly recommend Spinner’s Pizza & Subs in Albany at 14 Picotte Drive — Phone: 482-7311.

My parents stopped in Albany today on their way from Canandaigua, NY, to a Red Sox game. They brought with them a bunch of camping gear that we’re borrowing for some bicycle camping next week. My mom said, “We’ll have to drive over to your house because we’ve got so much stuff for you.” I said thanks, but no thanks — the Xtracycles can handle it. Even Jen was skeptical, but we did it, with no problem.

And here’s the big version:

080801 Camping Gear

]]> http://www.rocbike.com/2008/08/01/we-dont-need-no-stinkin-suv-weve-got-an-sub/feed/ 1 http://www.rocbike.com/2008/07/26/delmar/ http://www.rocbike.com/2008/07/26/delmar/#comments Sat, 26 Jul 2008 23:50:17 +0000 Jason Crane http://www.rocbike.com/?p=1443

Jen and the boys and I set out today for Five Rivers Environmental Education Center, but we got as far as a playground in downtown Delmar, about 4 miles from home. We had a blast, though, throwing the Foxtail, playing in the sandbox and reading Walt Whitman aloud. Here are some photos from the trip, plus a few photos of a quick errand run I did with Bernie on my 1957 Raleigh Sprite. Enjoy!

One of the things you have to deal with when you’re living car-free is getting to work. At the moment, that couldn’t be a nicer proposition. From our home in the Helderberg neighborhood, it’s just a short hop to most of the hotels and restaurants I represent as a union staffer for UNITE HERE. Here’s a slide show of today’s commute:

A larger version of the slideshow is at my Picasa site:

080725 Commuting Life ]]> http://www.rocbike.com/2008/07/25/car-free-commuting/feed/ 1 http://www.rocbike.com/2008/07/10/a-car-free-day-in-the-life/ http://www.rocbike.com/2008/07/10/a-car-free-day-in-the-life/#comments Thu, 10 Jul 2008 23:58:17 +0000 Jason Crane http://www.rocbike.com/?p=1343

I spent most of the day today trying to unbury myself after 4 days off and 2 more days in a staff retreat. But I took an hour out this afternoon to ride with my family over to our community garden plot. Here are some photos of a car-free day in Albany.

12►

Photo by Derek Pearson

I link with much frequency and devotion to the wonderful photographer and Xtracycle enthusiast Derek Pearson’s Bike Rubbish site. I’ve stolen several design ideas from Derek, which he says is OK because I live on the opposite side of the country.

I was offline for several weeks because of our move, and of course that dovetailed with Derek’s completion of somewhere in the neighborhood of 97 new Xtracycles. I strongly encourage you to start at about June 1 on his site and continue forward. He’s got some gorgeous bikes.

WARNING: You will feel an almost uncontrollable need to purchase an Xtracycle if you look at these photos.

Photo by Derek Pearson

Two weekends ago, Jen and the boys and I rode our Xtracycles from Albany to Troy along the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway. We wanted to check out the Troy Waterfront Farmers Market, which happens every Saturday.

A couple miles along, Jen looked over to the left and said, “Hey, there’s another Xtracycle.” We could see the owner resting under a tree with a little boy. Jen didn’t want to bother them, but I veered off the trail and headed straight for the only Xtracycle I’ve ever seen that didn’t belong to my family. How could I pass that up?

The owner, Reese, and her son were in town for an alternative education conference at the Sage Colleges in Troy. She’s had her Xtracycle since last fall, just like me. The adults chatted for a while the kids played, and then we decided to ride together to Troy. What a blast to ride with three Xtracycles!

We checked out the market, had a light lunch of strawberries, sugar snap peas, farmers cheese and fresh bread. Then Reese and her son went back to the conference, and we went home. It was hotter than the ninth level of Hell, but still a really fun day.

Sadly, I forgot both my camera and my cell phone, so I have no photos of our three bikes together. Oy!

Jen got her new Xtracycle several weeks ago. The fine folks at the Down Tube bike shop on Madison Avenue in Albany put it together on a Trek comfort bike frame. We bought the 700cc version of the Free Radical for Jen’s bike. (Mine has the 26″ Free Radical.) I took the bike to Rochester so Jen could use it for a few weeks before she and the boys joined me in Albany. Here are some shots of the Xtracycle with the PeaPod kids seat on its first day of use.

And new front and rear disc brakes:

I’m really digging both changes. Those handlebars (which I purchased from Nashbar.com for cheap) give me many new hand positions, which is a big relief on longer rides. I can also grab them down low for more climbing leverage, which I like a lot. When I reach forward to hold the shifters, I’m much lower out of the wind than was the case with my old riser bars. I’m not saying the Boat is aerodynamic, but it’s as close as something nicknamed “The Packet Boat” is likely to get.

The disc brakes, which I also purchased from Nashbar, are a welcome change. Much more stopping power than the old side-pulls, and — from what I’ve been told — more all-weather reliability. Unfortunately, I bought a front-and-rear kit from Nashbar that had a smaller rear rotor than Xtracycle calls for. I also had wheels on my low-end Giant hybrid that didn’t accept disc breaks. So I got a slightly better set of Shimano wheels and a larger rear rotor, and all was well.

Jen’s Xtracycle kit arrived today. It’s going to be built this weekend by the fine folks at the Down Tube bike shop on Madison Avenue.

Xtracycle #2 (in box) next to Xtracycle #1. The other box is a PeaPod child seat for Jen’s X.

Not how I’ll be transporting the boxes to the bike shop…

Documents early days (2000) of Xtracycle LLC, makers of the FreeRadical hitchless bicycle trailer — http://xtracycle.com/ . Shot mostly in San Francisco, where inventor Ross Evans and musician-president Kipchoge Spencer introduce the product to sometimes quizzical, sometimes skeptical, sometimes euphoric people.

I went to the Main Library today to pick up a biography of Laurence Olivier and a VHS (!) called The Bicycle Corps: America’s Black Army On Wheels. (Pretentious Score: 100!) When I got there, this is what I saw:

Bike rack chaos!

On the plus side, I also saw this:

Custom cargo bike

Carries three cups!

I’ve met the cyclist who owns this bike. We chatted outside the Price Chopper at Madison and Main. I think his name is Joe. He said he found those crutches on the curb and decided they’d make his bike more useful. When he goes shopping, he hangs his shopping bags on the crutches so he carry things both inside and outside the basket. He’s a cool guy.

Here’s a wonderful video of a family camping by Xtracycle(s). Now that’s living!

…is on the way!

Jen bought a Trek 7000WSD today at The Down Tube bike shop in Albany. It looks like this, or at least it will when it’s built:

We ordered the 700cc Xtracycle kit tonight, and they’ll be building her bike when the kit arrives. Huzzah!

Fittingly, we loaded almost the entire family onto The Packet Boat, our current Xtracycle, to make the purchase. Jen and John rode on the Snapdeck. I pedaled. Bernie rode his own bike. It was great! Our helper at the bike shop? None other than the NYBC’s Executive Director, Joshua Poppel. How can you lose?

Car-free, here we come!

Photo by Eric Breitung

Dozens of friendly people, all on bikes.

What’s not to like?

Since I moved to Albany, I’ve been working a lot and socializing very little. Tonight, I met a huge gang of fun folks all at once at Critical Mass. Much like Rochester, this CM is a very laid-back affair. All different types of cyclists on all different types of bikes, including two guys on unicycles with 36″ wheels. Amazing!

We met at the Soldiers and Sailors Monument in Washington Square Park. There were about 30 riders, ranging in age from 1 or 2 to … um … older than that. Experienced. Then again, I was probably in the top 10 in terms of age. When the hell did that happen? Ah well, we pudgy Pillsbury Doughboy types gotta have our day, too, right?

The weather was drop-dead gorgeous. Perfect temps, late enough that the sun was very mellow, a light breeze. It was everything you could ask for in cycling weather.

Before the ride started, we were approached by an Albany cop who was wondering what we were up to. He was alerted by the presence of the Red Bull crew — two young women who travel in a car with a huge Red Bull can, distributing canned joy for free to all takers. The officer was concerned because there was a run/walk happening in the park, and he didn’t want us colliding with the participants. We told him we were about to split, and he couldn’t have been nicer, so all was well. A few minutes later, we were out on the street.

I won’t recount the route, but we covered a decent amount of territory — maybe 10 miles up Central, through Pine Hills, down Clinton through Arbor Hill, up State (which, as Gavin said, “sucks every time”). By the way, if you’ve never been passed by a unicyclist up a steep hill, it’s something to see. One wheel. No gears. Faster than me. Oy!

At one point, going north on Hackett, we spotted another cyclist maybe a half-mile ahead. A cyclist named Carolyn and I hammered up to 22 or 23 miles an hour to catch up to the guy (and believe me, hammering on the Packet Boat/Xtracycle is quite a challenge). When we got there, I asked if he wanted to join us, and he nervously declined. We looked back, only to realize that the entire group was turning off onto another street. So it was hammerfest number two to catch up.

We also went on a tour of all the homes a cyclist named Marylou lives in or has lived in, including her folks’ place. It was very charming, although we didn’t get to meet her parents.

I was happy to import one thing from Rochester — the tradition of yelling “Happy Friday!” to folks along the route. It really seems to have a positive effect on the folks who see us pass by. Plus, I just like yelling in public.

After the slog up State, the mass had split into two groups. A bunch of us waited at the corner of Lark and Madison in front of the Dunkin’ Donuts, which is a hangout for motorcyclists. I chatted with a guy named Louis who struck up a conversation because of my Silver Surfer t-shirt. After a while, the gang caught up and we headed to the Palais Royale. They don’t have food, though, so about half the group went to The Madison instead, where we feasted on pizza, fries, onion rings, burgers, soda and beer.

Eventually, that group broke up and I rode up Madison toward home. On the way, I ran into Tom, one of the CM riders. He said a bunch of cylists were at Mahar’s on Madison, and he offered to show me the way. Eric, another CMer, joined us, and we met up with the gang at Mahar’s, which is really worth visiting if you’re into beer. And pretty cool even if you’re not.

After Mahar’s, it was off to Randy’s House Of Bike Porn. This is a lovely house just a few blocks north of where I’m living. It features a basement with maybe 30 bikes — tall bikes, tandems, every kind of road and street bike. It’s amazing. Some of us sat outside and chatted while the rest ogled the bikes and took them for test rides.

All in all, it couldn’t have been a better intro to this part of Albany’s bike culture.

I think I’m going to like it here.

12►

I don’t really have a “commute” because I don’t have an office that I go to each day. Instead, my day is a combination of work from home and travel to the hotels and other sites where our UNITE HERE union members work. Most of the sites I represent are in downtown Albany, but two of my hotels are in Schenectady. Up until today, I’ve driven to Schenectady for site visits, but today I decided to ride.

I’ve been down Central Avenue enough to know that if I can avoid it, I will. It’s congested, there are no shoulders, and it’s just not that nice to look at, either. If you start at my house and take Central all the way to Schenectady, it’s a shade over 14 miles one way. I plotted out a different course, though, and it turned out to be a lovely ride.

Rather than Central, I started out on Sand Creek Road, which goes from Albany to Colonie, past Colonie High School and the Colonie Center Mall. I stayed on Sand Creek until it ended at Watervliet Shaker Road, which is also Routes 155 and 157. I stayed on that road until it became Consaul Road, and that took me right to State Street in Schenectady. It was a beautiful ride. Lots of trees, a fair amount of open farmland, wide shoulders most of the way and relatively few cars. And it’s just over a mile further than the direct route down Central Ave. I made the 15-ish miles in an hour and 20 minutes on the Packet Boat (Xtracycle). The temperature was perfect for the ride — just below 70 degrees by the time I arrived in Schenectady. I wasn’t really even sweating, which was nice, because I did the ride in my work clothes.

After the site visit, I cycled down to Schenectady’s Little Italy, where a co-worker had recommended Perreca’s Bakery. I got some capicola, salami and turket, fresh bread and two slices of delicious homemade pizza. I ate the pizza at the outdoor tables next to the bakery, basking in the sun and the light breeze, then loaded up the goodies in the Packet Boat and set off along the reverse route back to Albany. It was another peaceful and exhilarating ride — if you can describe something as both “peaceful” and “exhilarating.”

When I was at the Adirondack Sports & Fitness Expo yesterday, two NYBC folks — Amy and her daughter Laurel — told me about Buckingham Lake (also known as Buckingham Pond or Rafts Pond), an idyllic little spot right outside of downtown Albany. The lake is nestled at the end of several neighborhood streets. I rode down one of them and found Laurel in her front yard, picking lovely little blue flowers.

“I remember you from yesterday!” she said, and handed me a flower. We chatted for a minute, then I cycled off down the street to the lake.

A sign at the entrance had this bit of history:

This lake has been known by a number of different names. Among them were Raft’s Pond and Berkshire Pond. It is shown on an 1884 map as a portion of the westerly branch of the Beaver Creek. At that time it was just outside the city limits. This body is fed by a perched water table which surfaces in the area of the lake as well as from storm-water runoff. During 1931 the City of Albany acquired property around Buckingham Lake and ordered the grading of the land which continued through 1933. In 1977, the lake was dredged and in 1992 the stilling basic west of the lake was added. Aerators were added to improve water quality in 1997. The park and surrounding area are a part of the City of Albany park system.

Talk about an urban oasis! The lake was teeming with ducks, robins and other birds that someone smarter than I could probably identify. There were joggers, walkers, parents with strollers, adults with kids on trail-a-bikes, mountain bikers — you name it, someone was doing it at Buckingham Lake. I docked the Packet Boat on the shore of the lake and read for a while, stopping to take pictures of the cyclists as they passed.

After a while, I hopped on the Packet Boat, held my camera in one hand and shot a video of the trail ride around the lake. It’s about 4 and a half minutes long, and a little wobbly in some bits:

No, not the city in California. The jazz drumming genious Chico Hamilton. I interviewed him this evening for The Jazz Session, my jazz interview show. I went downtown to the Hampton Inn in Albany in plenty of time for our interview, even giving myself enough time to hang out at Melville’s Mug. I met Courtney and Dylan, two of the staff there, and they asked if I was connected to Fort Orange Cycling. Reminder: Mention Fort Orange Cycling and get 20% off your order at Melville’s Mug!

The Mug is about a block from the Hampton Inn where Chico was staying, and where the interview was happening. I headed over to the lobby and called his manager. He was also in the lobby of the Hampton Inn, but he was in the lobby of a Hampton Inn on Wolf Road in a completely other part of Albany. So there was that. He was very cool, and asked whether I could make it to the gig in time to interview Chico. “No problem,” I said.

I hopped back on the Packet Boat (Xtracycle) and headed off toward the gig. It was hot. Really hot. About 80 degrees, and I was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Because my new tattoo can’t be in the sun for 10 days, I had to leave the sleeves of my shirt most of the way down, rather than rolling them up. Did I mention it was hot? I also had my recording gear, laptop, small mic stands, etc. on the Packet Boat, so it was heavy. And hot. Quite hot.

I made it with 10 minutes to spare and did a little sink-bath in the men’s room. The interview went fine. Chico is a very cool guy. He released four albums in 2006 and one in 2007, with two more out this year. In 2006 he was 85. In 2007 he was 86. This year, he turns 87. The first question I asked him was, “What do you eat for breakfast that makes it possible for you to cut all these records?”

Chico and the band (zing!) played their asses off, and a good time was had by all.

I rode home with the Down Low Glow dishing out the good vibes. Riding with the DLG is like having a force field around you. Cars actually pass with feet to spare rather than inches.

As I was getting into my neighborhood, I passed three young guys sitting on a porch. One of them yelled out “PIIIIIIMP!” I laughed out load and they all joined in.

I ate some of my wife’s delicious karaage on the porch by the light of the DLG. A beautiful day.

The rest of the photos are at Fort Orange Cycling.

My driveway is about five feet long, and I had not reached the end of it before two cyclists stopped me. The guy in the lead said, “Man, I thought I had some lights, but this is the ultimate!” We chatted for a few minutes about Xtracycles and DLGs.

Then it was off on the inaugural GlowMotion 08. Here’s a sampling of the feedback from people on front porches, sidewalks, park benches, bar decks, and on the street in general:

• “Look at this motherfucker!”
• “Dude, is that a moped?” (Me — “It’s a bicycle!”) “It’s a bicycle! Ha ha! Cool!”
• “Nice glow!” (I swear that wasn’t scripted. She actually yelled “Nice glow!”)
• “Nice bike!”
• “Phat bike, man!”
• “That’s gotta be a fun ride!”
• “Cool pimped-out bike!”

I thought the Xtracycle was a conversation starter. Add the Down Low Glow and you’ve got yourself the ultimate bike advocacy tool. Who wouldn’t want to ride a bike that looks that cool? And I’m a geek. Imagine what it would look like with a rider as cool as the bike. Dangerous, even!

Get yours today! You’ll be glad you did.

(Derek, if you read this — my wife said today, “I think I’m changing my mind about getting an Xtracycle.” Bwah-hah-hah-hah-hah! My evil plan is working!)

The sometimes harrowing, infrequently edifying tale of a multi-modal trip across New York State, complete with Buddhists, BMXers and bureaucracy.

Read all about it.

I went back to Rochester this weekend for the first time in a couple weeks. I’ve been wanting to bike to the Amtrak station here in Albany rather than drive, but I wasn’t too keen on leaving my bike locked up in the parking garage for three days while I was out of town. I discovered on Thursday that you can lock you bike in the baggage area at the station for $3/day, so I decided to do it.

I’ve read online about the Dunn Memorial Bridge being used as a crossing for cyclists, and that it had a sidewalk along one side. I rode my bike to the entrance to the bridge and was annoyed to find that the sidewalk was about 12 inches wide and had a guardrail that actually narrowed it even further in some spots. That was useless, so I rode on the pavement instead.

When I got to the apex of the bridge, the three lanes on my side merged with three lanes coming in from my right, and that left me on a 2-foot-square section of white paint in the middle of six merging lanes of highway-speed traffic. I’m a vehicular cyclist, but that’s just ridiculous. I waited for the traffic on the right to clear and then shot across to the rightmost lane and descended into Rensselaer.

I entered the Amtrak station through the main lobby and asked where the baggage area was. It was on the first floor, so I took the elevator. Sadly, the elevator wasn’t built with Xtracycles in mind. I had to lift the front wheel and put it over my shoulder so the whole bike would fit. I tried to get my camera free to take a self-portrait of this dignified elevator ride, but I was stuck.

The rest of the check-in was smooth. I paid $3 for the first day, put the bike in the baggage room and hopped on the … er … bus. That’s right, a CSX train had derailed, spilling thousands of tons of coal on the tracks near Rochester and stopping all train travel between Buffalo and Albany. Instead, we got a bus trip to Rochester. Not quite as luxurious, but we were still close to arriving on time. (Side note: I think it’s more newsworthy when a CSX train stays on the tracks. Google them if you don’t believe me.)

That was last Thursday. On the way back today, I sat down next to a guy reading The Sun, a magazine I used to read. I also noticed he had a copy of the Mountain Record on his tray table — that’s the journal put out by the Mountains and Rivers Order of Buddhist practitioners, a group of which I was once a member, back in my Brooklyn days. In fact, I thought I recognized the guy from pictures I’d seen and from my time sitting in the (then) new Brooklyn zendo. After a while, we started talking, and it turned out that I did know him. He’s a very hip monk who’s also a cyclist. What are the odds, right? We had a very nice chat for a couple hours of the trip.

The train pulled in to Albany right on time. I went up to the ticket window to pay for my two additional days of storage. The ticket agent said, “You have to go down to the first floor to do that.”

“I can pay down there, too?” I asked. He said yes, so down I went. I rang the bell for baggage service and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Initially I rang the bell every 2 minutes. After about 10 minutes, I rang it once a minute. After 20 minutes, I went back upstairs to the same ticket agent. It was 7 p.m.

“Could you page someone for me?” I asked. “I’ve been ringing the bell for 20 minutes and no one’s coming.”

The ticket agent looked at the clock. “Oh, they’re probably working on the 7:05 train. I’m sure they’ll be back in a few minutes once the train leaves.”

I’d just spent two hours with a Buddhist monk, and I was really trying to be as enlightened as possible about the whole experience. So I dutifully trooped back down to the first floor and waited until 7:05. Then I rang the bell and waited. And waited. And waited. On my 39th ringing of the bell (40 minutes after my arrival in Albany), a guy finally showed up and got my bike for me. Then another employee came out.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked.

“Six dollars,” she said.

“Great, here’s my money.”

“Oh, you’ve got to pay upstairs.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said. “In fact, that’s what I told the guy upstairs, but he wasn’t very helpful.”

She took me upstairs to the very same guy, who was astounded that it was possible to pay at his REGISTER. WHERE THE CASH IS!!!! AM I YELLING?!?!??!?

Sorry.

Anyway, I finally got the bike and left through the street-level parking garage, which is on the same level as the baggage area. I rode up to one of the parking attendants at the exit gates.

“Would you mind raising the gate for me?” I asked. “I already paid inside.”

He stepped out of the booth and walked over to the gate. He pointed at the base of the gate, on which there was a picture of a bicycle with a circle around it and a slash through it.

“No bicyles,” he said.

“How am I supposed to get out? My bike won’t fit on the elevator, and the baggage office where it was stored is on this level.”

“We don’t care if you walk your bike out,” he suggested helpfully.

So I got off the bike, walked it around/under the gate, and got back on.

“This is really unbelievable,” I said. “I thought you’d have a button to raise the gate.”

“Oh,” he said, again helpful.

By this point, I didn’t need my cycling jacket. My Zen-like calm had dissolved and my boiling blood was enough to warm me as I headed back to Albany. Luckily, there was good news ahead.

First, I discovered the actual sidewalk on the Dunn Memorial Bridge. It’s marked on the Rensselaer side, and I got some cool pictures of the cityscape from the bridge.

Then I rode through downtown and over to Madison, along Washington Park.

Midway through the park, I saw three guys on BMX bikes doing tricks on the tennis courts. I stopped and asked if I could take pictures. They were very nice guys, and we chatted between jumps. They said there used to be a good BMX scene in Albany, but it’s gone downhill because there aren’t many places to ride and because the police “really hate us.” I told them about this site and took a few more shots before heading home.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

I came back through Washington Park. I have a feeling that’s going to be part of many of my downtown trips. It’s such a beautiful ride. I ended up at Lake and Madison, and a cyclist across the street yelled, “How’s that working out for you?” referring to the Packet Boat (Xtracycle). I pedaled across the street, and met Robin the Roofer.

He had two steel baskets on the back of his bike to carry his roofing gear. He said he’d like to be carrying 40-50 pounds more gear but was limited by the size of the baskets. I told him about the wonderful carrying capacity of the Xtracycle and told him to take it down the street for a spin. With a “Sweet!” he was off down the block and back. “It’s almost disappointing,” he said, “because it doesn’t feel any different than any other bike.”

“That’s what makes it so cool,” I said.

Robin said he’d seen me riding around, and asked me whether I purchased my Xtracycle kit at the Down Tube on Madison. When I said no, he said there must be two Xtracycles in Albany because he’d seen a kit there once. (Side note: If you’re out there, other Xtracycle rider, let me know!) I told Robin about this site and invited him to contribute his own cycling stories.

Robin also told me about Troy Bike Rescue. This is from their Web site:

TBR began sometime in 2001 as a hybrid public art/action project. In 2001 and 2002, we held several workshops, and attempted some ‘public bike’ experiments in Troy. since then it has evolved into a small network of volunteers and supporters who come together to create streetshops in public spaces with the intent of recycling and redistributing bicycles. In the beginning bikes were rescued from dumpsters and alleyways, stripped, and pieced together to make new machines. Then, in 2002-03, TBR began to get donations of old bicycles and parts from people throughout the capitol region, and built up a stockpile of bikes in need of repair and redistribution. We worked with partners like Equinox to create bike libraries; we released a fleet of free green bikes into the downtown of Troy; We used a mobile van (supported by NYSCA) to put on Streetshops, which were free outdoor workshops with bikes and parts for sale.

In 2004, TBR migrated its operations to Albany. With the help and support of the New York Bike Coalition (NYBC), TBR eventually found a home with Trinity, a South End Albany non-profit organization. Trinity donates the space in exchange for allowing their youth to participate in workshops. So, Trinity Basement Rescue is now another name for Troy Bike Rescue, a small but dedicated bicycle collective in the capital district. With an ever-growing and changing stock of donated and “rescued” bicycles, TBR volunteers work with Trinity Insitute to reach out to community members in order to facilitate cycling in Albany, Troy, Schenectady, and the surrounding areas. Current services include youth bicycle maintenance classes and a community bike shop where used cycles are available for adoption. Discounts are taken off adoption fees when the adoptive parents work on the bikes themselves. Children in the bicycle maintenance program receive a free bike at the end of the session. Participants in occasional “monster bike” sessions are able to design new unique bikes out of old frames and parts that are then welded together.

These days, workshops are still happening at Trinity, and there is some more talk of TBR operations starting back up again in Troy in the spring, as well. TBR is still accepting donations to locations in Albany and Troy.

Sounds great — I’ll have to find out more.

So it was a good morning. A beautiful ride, a meeting with a cool cyclist, and news about an unknown-to-me advocacy group. What’s not to like?

OK, maybe not exactly with, but certainly in the immediate vicinity of…

Read all about it.

On the way to the event, I rode through the lovely Washington Park. I saw several other cyclists, including Ron (pictured below), who stopped to talk with me about the Packet Boat (Xtracycle). There’s a beautiful pond in the middle of the park with what looks like a Victorian Era bridge over it. I also spotted a stage which would be perfect for Shakespeare. I hope that’s part of what they use it for!

I stopped for a few minutes at the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial as I was leaving the park, then continued down Henry Johnson Boulevard to Washington Avenue. I hung out at the main branch of the library long enough to grab a bunch of Vonnegut and take pictures of the bikes parked out front. Then it was off to the Unitarian church-type-thing for the panel discussion. Followed, in fine cycling fashion, by flautas y salsa verde at El Mariachi.

Here are three good one-liners from Gloria’s talk tonight:

• “I’m going to make a button that says: ‘The Truth Will Set You Free, But First It Will Piss You Off.’”
• “When God looks like the ruling class, we’re all in deep shit.”
• “Let’s make this the first meeting of the post-racist, post-nationalistic, post-patriarchal, post-monotheistic age!”

UPDATE: Prairie Wells from the Capital District Area Labor Federation sent me a better photo from the event:

From left to right: Dr. Alethia Jones, Hon. Barbara Smith, Gloria Steinem, Renee Gecsedi and moderator Susan Arbetter (Photo by CDALF staff)

Prairie also told me that Gloria Steinem never said the “fish…bicycle” line — it was Irina Dunn, an Australian educator, journalist and politician. I pedal corrected!

So.

Over the next weeks and months, I’m probably going to write here about my wife’s and my attempt to get back to the values we started with as a married couple. Ever since we had our two lovely boys, I think we’ve been sliding away from the course we had charted as we are being slowly but surely co-opted by modern cultural “norms.”

For months now, I’ve had this really positive, hard-to-pin-down feeling that something good is coming. I told Jen then other day that I feel like I’m simultaneously riding many tributaries on the way toward a great river, and that once I hit the main body of water things will be clearer and brighter and better. I think the way to get there — the way to find the river — is to take intentional action, not just to be swept along by the current.

One intentional action we’re going to take is to severely limit our car usage on the way to eliminating it entirely. I have a car that’s provided by my work (as I’ve written about here and here) and we also own a 2001 Subaru Forester that’s a year from being paid off. I think we’re going to get rid of our car and park my work car except when I need it for work, which is very seldom. In addition to the workers I represent in downtown Albany, I also represent two hotels in Schenectady. I discovered that it’s a fairly easy bike trip to Schenectady if you go straight there, so that cuts out another need for the car. And I can take my weekly trip to Saratoga Springs by train and then walk a mile to the office.

Anyway, I don’t have this all fleshed out in my mind yet. But good things are afoot. Positive change is happening. Life is starting to come into focus in a way it hasn’t before. And bicycling is part of this new world.

Whenever I want to remind myself about the beauty of the bicycling lifestyle, I ride my bike. And I watch this:

So.

Over the next weeks and months, I’m probably going to write here about my wife’s and my attempt to get back to the values we started with as a married couple. Ever since we had our two lovely boys, I think we’ve been sliding away from the course we had charted as we are being slowly but surely co-opted by modern cultural “norms.”

For months now, I’ve had this really positive, hard-to-pin-down feeling that something good is coming. I told Jen then other day that I feel like I’m simultaneously riding many tributaries on the way toward a great river, and that once I hit the main body of water things will be clearer and brighter and better. I think the way to get there — the way to find the river — is to take intentional action, not just to be swept along by the current.

One intentional action we’re going to take is to severely limit our car usage on the way to eliminating it entirely. I have a car that’s provided by my work (as I’ve written about here and here) and we also own a 2001 Subaru Forester that’s a year from being paid off. I think we’re going to get rid of our car and park my work car except when I need it for work, which is very seldom. In addition to the workers I represent in downtown Albany, I also represent two hotels in Schenectady. I discovered that it’s a fairly easy bike trip to Schenectady if you go straight there, so that cuts out another need for the car. And I can take my weekly trip to Saratoga Springs by train and then walk a mile to the office.

Anyway, I don’t have this all fleshed out in my mind yet. But good things are afoot. Positive change is happening. Life is starting to come into focus in a way it hasn’t before. And bicycling is part of this new world.

Whenever I want to remind myself about the beauty of the bicycling lifestyle, I ride my bike. And I watch this:

Read about it at Fort Orange Cycling.

I rode my first half-century today. Well, it was 49.27 miles, but close enough! I’m not sure what my previous record was, but I think it was under 40 miles. I had originally planned to ride a metric century today (62 miles), but circumstances prevented that.

As you can tell by the title of this post, I spent a fair portion of my ride today wondering where I was. I decided to take the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway to Schenectady and then come back, which would have been 62 or more miles. I looked at a map online to get the idea. After a couple minutes scanning the map, I thought, “OK, I’ve got it.” I mean, how hard can it be, right? You get on the trail, and get off when you see the city of Schenectady. (Ominous music begins…)

My ride started nicely. At the pedestrian bridge in Albany, I met Claire Nolan, a cyclist who was meeting some friends to practice the course for the upcoming Ride of Silence, a global ride to remember cyclists killed while riding. The ride is May 11, 2008, and more information on the Albany route is available here.

Shortly after starting out on the trail, I stopped to look at one of the many historical markers along the Bikeway. This one commemorated Al-Tro Park, an amusement park from the early 20th century. The park stood on an island in the Hudson River, but the island no longer exists. Many of the Hudson’s islands near Albany were lost when the 787 expressway was built. In 1901, before Al-Tro Park was built, a place called Lagoon Island occupied the same site and featured bicycle races.

I followed the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway through Watervliet. Up to this point, it was the same ride I took last week. From here, though, I continued on the Bikeway through Watervliet and into Green Island. Part of Green Island is attached to the mainland, and part of it is, technically, a peninsula. (At least according to my map. Purchased, I might add, 35 miles into the ride.) According to one of my co-workers, Green Island has its own power-generating station on the Hudson, and residents of Green Island pay very little for their electricity. Green Island’s town offices are housed in an old church, but as far as I know, Green Island is not a theocracy. Not that it would be out of place in today’s America.

The Bikeway makes its way to Cohoes next, and there are quite a few switchbacks as you climb the bluffs that overlook the river. Midway up, I saw an old canal lock. It’s now a park, and you can see the old path of the canal like a skeleton under the park.

At Cohoes, I got on the “Crescent Branch” of the Mohawk River Trailway, presumably a tribute to John Coltrane. This trail begins by winding along the bluffs overlooking the town of Cohoes. At a few places along the ride the trail was marked by permanent wooden maps, the first of which had no marking to indicate where on the map you were.

Apparently there was a fair amount of snow while I was out of town, and much of the trail was snow-covered. I’ve never done much snowbiking, but I did read quite a few how-to lessons by the folks at Full Moon Vista Bike & Sport in Rochester, the most important of which was not to fight the bike. Just keep pedaling and let the wheels go where they may. That worked really well, and I made it through quite a bit of snow between Cohoes and Niskayuna. (I did have to walk once on an uphill stretch of the trail. The back wheel was spinning.)

The trail was really busy around Niskayuna. There were quite a few bikers, walkers, dogs, joggers — you name, people were doing it on the Bikeway. I stopped a family to ask how far it was to a town where I could eat. The husband was too spellbound by the Packet Boat (Xtracycle) to answer, but his wife gave me directions into Niskayuna.

I decided to stay on the trail, though, and eventually came to Lock 7 on the Canal. The lock featured a long cement pier that offered a gorgeous view of the water.

Not too far after the lock, I started seeing dozens of yellow signs reading NO TRESPASSING BY ORDER OF THE UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY. The trail runs right along part of the General Electric R&D plant. Also nearby is a nuclear plant. (I should note that all the food service workers at the plants are members of my union, UNITE HERE.)

It was around this point that I started to wonder just where I was. I thought that Schenectady was still to the west, but I wasn’t sure. I tried to bring up a mental picture of the map, but I couldn’t remember it well enough. I decided to press on and hope for the best. I’d already ridden 25+ miles, meaning that if I turned around a rode back, I’d still set a personal best for distance.

Within a few miles, I had come to a moment of decision. The trail was completely snow-covered and in shade, and the snow was deep enough that I couldn’t sail the Packet Boat through it. I left the bike and walked a little ways up the trail. Snow — as far as the eye could see. Now I was starting to wonder. I’d already been out more than three hours, including stops, and I’d gone 31 miles, meaning that I could make my metric century if I just turned around and went back the way I came.

Two factors entered into my decision:

1. I’d just come down a huge hill with several switchbacks, and had no desire to climb it;
2. Going back the exact same way is boring

About 50 feet away, up a steep embankment, I could see the guardrail of a highway. Could I get the Xtracycle up that hill? If I made it, which highway was that? Would I be able to figure out which way to go? Was I, in short, an idiot?

My next action answered that final question with a resounding, “Yes!” I started pushing the Boat up the embankment, slipping in the snow and swearing quite colorfully, if I do say so myself. I finally resorted to getting behind the Boat and shoving it the last several feet. Luckily, I recently started riding with the WideLoaders on, and that helped keep the bike from falling all the way over or rolling back down the hill.

After a few minutes rest, I grabbed the boat and heaved it over the guardrail. I was about midway up a very steep hill, cars and trucks whizzing by on the two-lane road. I decided that downhill was the better part of valor. At the bottom of the hill was a sign for 146 East and 146 West. I still thought Schenectady was probably to the west, and I noticed that a few hundred feet to the east was a Saratoga County sign, so I knew that was the wrong way.

I started pedaling in granny gear up the steep westward hill. I was on Balltown Road, about which I knew nothing. Eventually, though, I saw a Mobil station ahead, so I stopped and bought a map. There was a Friendly’s restaurant behind the gas station. I decided to stuff my face and look at the map.

Turns out that the Bikeway was marked on the map, and I’d left the trail just a few miles from the point where it enters downtown Schenectady. According to the map, I could stay on Balltown Road and get to Route 5, which becomes Central Avenue in Albany — not far from my rental house. I ate a bacon cheeseburger and fries, asked the server to fill up my water bottles, and headed back onto the road.

Route 5 sucks for cyclists. I took the right lane, but still found myself watching my rearview mirror more than the road ahead as car after car sped by within inches of me. After a few miles of this, I turned right on Fuller Road in Albany (right near CK Cycles) and then took Washington Street home.

The ride was a blast. I was tired and proud when I got home.

Here are my pictures from the trip:

As I picked up the clothes, the woman behind the counter looked out the window at the Boat and said, “How are you going to get these home?” I said, “Well, I’m going to try to use that big bike bag like a garment bag. Wish me luck.”

And wouldn’t you know it, the Boat shines through again!

Neatly folded

Prêt-à-Porter

I took a sick day today because I felt, to use a medical term, like crap. After staying in bed most of the day, I finally decided that enough was enough, and that it was time to get a little fresh air. I’d just learned about the existence of the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway and decided to check it out. I planned on a little jaunt down to the river and back.

I rode down Madison to Broadway, and then jogged over a bit until a break in the concrete wall allowed me to enter the trail near the Corning City Preserve:

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The trail has several informational signs at various points. At the Corning City Preserve, the markers include this concrete map of the river:

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This section of the trail is quite nice, with brick pathways leading to the pedestrian bridge and elsewhere:

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The trail itself is paved along the entire length between Albany and Watervliet, which is the section I rode today. Just north of the Corning City Preserve is the rail bridge. I believe this is the bridge I cross each week when I take the train to and from Rochester:

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I’ve always been a big fan of signs that point to places far from where I am. This one sent a little jolt through me:

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For much of the distance between Albany and Watervliet, the Bikeway is just a few hundred feet from Route 787, a major highway. You can see how close it is in this GQ-worthy shot (note the jaunty Walz Cycling Cap peeking out from beneath my helmet):

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One of the historical markers along the trail tells the story of Troy Steel & Iron Company, the remnants of which can be seen across the Hudson if you climb down through the brush:

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Just past Schuyler Flatts, you come to a break in the paved Bikeway and you move on to surface streets in the town of Watervliet:

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This section of the city is a mix of falling down houses, refurbished historical homes, factories, and the massive Watervliet Arsenal, now the U.S. Army’s Benet Laboratories. I rode through Watervliet and, on a whim, jumped onto the Mohawk-Hudson Heritage Trail. To be honest, I don’t even know what that is. The signs are different from the Bikeway signs, and lead you along a different path. I didn’t stay on it for long, though, because I decided to go up to Latham and visit my cousins.

I took Route 2 to Latham. If you’ve ever been on this route, you know that to get from Watervliet to Latham, you have to climb a big, big hill. According to my quick calculations (with a little help from MapMyRide.com, it’s a 7% grade for about a mile. I don’t know where that falls in the grand scheme of hills, but it’s a doozy when you’re riding a tank like the Packet Boat (Xtracycle). I made it, though!

I spent some time with my cousins and their lovely kids. My cousin Mike is getting into cycling, too. We may attempt to make it to Berkshire County this summer, which contains some impressive climbs over the Berkshire Mountains. Here are my cousins Lynne and Mike:

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I got directions from Mike and Lynne (and Mike’s visiting mom) on how to get back via a shorter route. Unfortunately, I took one wrong turn — because I was too lazy to actually take the direction out of my pocket — and ended up heading down Route 155 back into Watervliet, and thus back onto the Bikeway via this inviting tunnel:

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I was glad I took this route, though, because about 3/4 of the way back, I came upon two deer in an open patch of grass. I took out my camera, but they ran as I tried to take their picture. A few hundred feet further on, I saw a family of four deer. They didn’t seem to mind me at all, and continued to eat as I watched them for several minutes. I took several pictures, but they didn’t come out very well. This shot is slightly less terrible than the others:

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By this time, I’d been out about three hours. The sun was setting…

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…and I needed to EAT! I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. I’d forgotten to bring a snack with me for the ride (which I thought would be much shorter anyway). Then I’d planned to eat at a deli shortly after leaving my cousins’ house, but I took a wrong turn and never got there. So it was over the Hudson River Way Pedestrian Bridge and back into downtown Albany:

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After 27 miles, I could hear the call of Old Mexico — and I answered. Dinner at El Mariachi on Washington…

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…and back home.

If you’d like to help support the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway, please visit the Web site of the Friends of the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway.

(By the way, for those of you who were attracted by the title of this post, I just meant that until today, I was a Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway “virgin.” Why, what were you thinking?)

Jen and I got her from the Hermitage Cat Shelter in Tucson, AZ, in 1995. She was 6 months old when we got her, and she’d been left in a box in the desert with her sister; left there to die. Luckily, she and her sister were rescued and adopted.

Since then, Domino has traveled with us to Pennsylvania, Japan, South Carolina, New York City, New Hampshire, Rochester and Albany. She had a very happy seven years or so, particularly in Japan, where the fish were fresh and plentiful. Those years of relative bliss were followed by The Child Years, of which she was less than fond. In recent months, she’d been sick, losing a lot of weight and lot of hair. She’d made a nearly full recovery, however, since moving to Albany with me.

She was a strange pet. Aloof, not too fond of humans. Many of our friends went years without knowing we even had a cat. She was always attached to Jen and me, though, and was our practice child before the real things came along.

So raise a glass to Domino. A good cat who led a happy life and who will be fondly remembered.

Domino took her final ride today. I took her to the Mohawk & Hudson River Humane Society to be cremated. I took her on the Xtracycle, figuring that a bike was one of the few modes of transportation she’d never been on. Here’s the final photo, just before leaving the house:

As I wrote on Kent’s Veloquent blog, I’m trying to do as much of my job as possible by bike, even though I have a company car. Why not fight for environmental justice at the same time as I’m fighting for economic justice?

I’d seen an underground bike parking area at Empire State Plaza, so I called today to find out how to get to it from the surface. (Much of the plaza is made up of a huge underground concourse full of shops, banks, offices and restaurants.) Turns out you can pay $2 and get a key to the locked bike cage. If you’re interested, here’s the number to call:

Your $2 is a security deposit. You can keep the key for as long as you like, and when you return it, they give you the money back.

The next trick, though, is finding the cage. I felt like Rael as I rode from one street to the next, trying to find the entrance to the catacombs. The OGS folks told me to use the bus turnaround, but the outside turnaround had a sign saying no bicycles allowed in the tunnels that run under the plaza. So I rode back up the hill and looked for an entrance on the street. As far as I can tell, the only way to get to where you need to be from the Madison Avenue side is to enter at the security gate (if you’re going downhill, it’s on the left about halfway down the hill). You’ll know you’re at the right entrance because there are two big signs that say DO NOT ENTER. Trust me, that’s the place. It’s got a guard station and a lift gate.

In I went. I asked a surly guard (not a Surly guard), who more-or-less directed me down a ramp between Agency 2 and Agency 3. As you can see, they really want you to go this way:

I scooted around the gate using a well-worn mud patch beside it, and entered the tunnel.

A sidewalk runs alongside the tunnel, and despite what I learned yesterday about riding on Albany sidewalks, it seemed the easiest way to get in. Once inside, you’re riding in the semi-darkness toward another bus turnaround. The glass walls of the concourse are in front of you, and the cage is off to the left.

Once you’re inside the plaza, they give you some helpful directions about all the rules you’ve already had to break to get there:

My key worked, and I locked the Packet Boat up to one of the several racks. There were probably a dozen bikes parked there, some of which looked like they’d been there a while.

Among the bikes in the cage was this cool homemade cargo bike, which I’ve seen around town several times:

After my meeting at the plaza, it was back to the sunlight, like one of the Mole Men emerging from the underground kingdom…

…then back up to the surface, where The Egg awaits.

Distance: 13.44 miles

It ain’t Brad Pitt

It sure didn’t take long for the exhilaration of cycling to come back.

As soon as I decided to get back on the bike and park the car, I was instantly energized and passionate about riding again. Today I rode the train from Rochester to Albany, then spent the rest of the day on the bike, apart from the short drive from the Amtrak station to my house. (As soon as I get a folding bike, I’ll eliminate that car usage, too.)

Have I mentioned that there are hills in Albany? Well, there are. Lots and lots of hills. To be fair — and not too wimpy — most of the ride from my house to downtown is relatively flat. Downtown itself is a killer, at least for now.

Today I traveled to the Averell Harriman State Office Campus, where my union, UNITE HERE, represents the food service workers in three of the cafeterias. The campus is just up Washington from where I live. To avoid that major street, I hopped on Lincoln Street and took it all the way up to Brevort, then over for the last jaunt on Washington to the state office campus. Just off the big access road that rings the campus buildings is another small office park that has a branch of my credit union in it, so I was able to combine work and personal errands on one trip.

Leaving the credit union, I thought I was being clever by riding my bike across the park-like median to get back on the circular road, but I must have misjudged my location. I ended up at the University of Albany, so I took a short hop around the campus over to Western and back toward downtown.
Brownstones on Madison

Following several hours in my makeshift home office (we don’t yet have a union office in downtown Albany), it was back on the bike and off to the main branch of the Albany Public Library over on Washington. I was wearing my neon yellow Pearl Izumi jacket. On the way I passed a group of kids, one of whom yelled, “I can see you from a mile away!” I yelled back, “That’s good!”

The library is right next to the SEIU 1199 offices. I used to work as an organizer for that union back in 2000 and 2001.

SEIU 1199 Offices on Washington Ave

I was happy to see a half-dozen bikes parked in front of the library. In fact, I found the library thanks to the help of a cyclist named Doug. He was coming out of his apartment with his bike as I was waiting at the light at Lark and Central.

“Is that an Xtracycle?” he asked. I told him it was and he asked me how it handled. “Better than when it was a regular bike,” I said, which is the truth. He gave me directions to the library — which was just around the corner — and I was on my way.

The main branch of the Albany Public Library

I had dinner at El Mariachi, a cool Mexican restaurant right across the street from the library. My cousin and I eat there once a week. Good food and nice atmosphere. The only hitch was the gringomole, my term for guacamole served only to people who’ve never had real guacamole before. Other than that, everything was great.

Nothing helps digest your dinner like a nice ride, and I was grateful for the ride back home, a straight shot down Washington, past the College of St. Rose, which is right in my neighborhood.

I rode more than 10 miles today on my bike. That, my friends, is farther than my total combined mileage for the rest of 2008 thus far.

That’s right. Mister I-Ride-Everywhere. Mister RocBike. Mister Bike Culture. That same cat has reverted to Mr. Pudgy Cager. Since being transferred here to Albany, I’ve been driving everywhere. In the first six weeks, I gained back nearly all the weight I had lost in the previous year. And I rode my bike fewer than 10 miles in 3 months.

Today, I decided enough is enough. I live in downtown Albany. I can actually see some of the hotels I represent from the upstairs window of my rented house. There’s no — repeat NO — reason to be driving and paying for parking when almost every union member I need to see is down the street. So after driving to a meeting this morning, I parked the car in the driveway and biked the rest of the day.

It felt wonderful! I’ll admit that Albany has lots of hills. In fact, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it from the capitol building back to my house as I chugged up the steep incline of State Street on the Packet Boat (Xtracycle). It hasn’t even been a year since I rode 30 miles through the Bristol Hills on a bike with half its gears missing, and now it’s a challenge to go four blocks uphill. But I’ll get my legs back. I’ve had my diet under control for several weeks now, and I’m working out at home. Trying to recapture the magic.

My biking experience here in Albany is limited, but I will say one thing: Parking your bike here sucks. Albany makes Rochester look like Portland, Oregon. You can park your bike downtown in Rochester with relative ease. Here in Albany, you have to get creative. There are very few racks anywhere, even right on the main streets in the center of downtown. The few racks there are seem to be decorative more than functional. I’ll bring my camera when I come back next week and take some photos to show you what I mean.

I should also mention that I dress differently now than I used to. In fact, I wear a bowtie:

So I was wearing dress pants and shirt, a sweater vest and a bowtie with my jacket over the ensemble as I pedaled around town today. It wasn’t bad at all. If anything, I was a little too warm with my Lands End Extreme Squall jacket, even in the 37-degree weather.

By next week, my dual-tube, neon-green Down Low Glow should arrive, and then I’ll really be stylin’.

I did take a few pictures with my cell phone this week. I’ve been on a real Franklin Roosevelt kick recently. (Who isn’t, right?) I’ve taken a couple trips down 87 to Hyde Park to visit the Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library and Museum. Last weekend, I saw the new exhibit about his first 100 days in office. Very inspiring. I’ve also been listening to the audiobook version of the recent biography FDR by Jean Edward Smith. In it, Smith mentions that FDR lived in downtown Albany when he was in the New York State Senate. I found both sites. This is first place he lived, at 348 State Street:

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And here’s the second, at 4 Elk Street. It’s now the home of the New York State Bar Association:

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Click for larger photo

I’m excited about getting back on the bike. Despite my initial worries, most of my new responsibilities are a lot more conducive to bike commuting than my old duties were. I have two hotels in Schenectady that I’ll have to drive to, and a weekly staff meeting in Saratoga Springs, but the rest of my job is right here in downtown Albany.

The Packet Boat sails again!

That’s right. Mister I-Ride-Everywhere. Mister RocBike. Mister Bike Culture. That same cat has reverted to Mr. Pudgy Cager. Since being transferred here to Albany, I’ve been driving everywhere. In the first six weeks, I gained back nearly all the weight I had lost in the previous year. And I rode my bike fewer than 10 miles in 3 months.

Today, I decided enough is enough. I live in downtown Albany. I can actually see some of the hotels I represent from the upstairs window of my rented house. There’s no — repeat NO — reason to be driving and paying for parking when almost every union member I need to see is down the street. So after driving to a meeting this morning, I parked the car in the driveway and biked the rest of the day.

It felt wonderful! I’ll admit that Albany has lots of hills. In fact, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it from the capitol building back to my house as I chugged up the steep incline of State Street on the Packet Boat (Xtracycle). It hasn’t even been a year since I rode 30 miles through the Bristol Hills on a bike with half its gears missing, and now it’s a challenge to go four blocks uphill. But I’ll get my legs back. I’ve had my diet under control for several weeks now, and I’m working out at home. Trying to recapture the magic.

My biking experience here in Albany is limited, but I will say one thing: Parking your bike here sucks. Albany makes Rochester look like Portland, Oregon. You can park your bike downtown in Rochester with relative ease. Here in Albany, you have to get creative. There are very few racks anywhere, even right on the main streets in the center of downtown. The few racks there are seem to be decorative more than functional. I’ll bring my camera when I come back next week and take some photos to show you what I mean.

I should also mention that I dress differently now than I used to. In fact, I wear a bowtie:

So I was wearing dress pants and shirt, a sweater vest and a bowtie with my jacket over the ensemble as I pedaled around town today. It wasn’t bad at all. If anything, I was a little too warm with my Lands End Extreme Squall jacket, even in the 37-degree weather.

By next week, my dual-tube, neon-green Down Low Glow should arrive, and then I’ll really be stylin’.

I did take a few pictures with my cell phone this week. I’ve been on a real Franklin Roosevelt kick recently. (Who isn’t, right?) I’ve taken a couple trips down 87 to Hyde Park to visit the Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library and Museum. Last weekend, I saw the new exhibit about his first 100 days in office. Very inspiring. I’ve also been listening to the audiobook version of the recent biography FDR by Jean Edward Smith. In it, Smith mentions that FDR lived in downtown Albany when he was in the New York State Senate. I found both sites. This is first place he lived, at 348 State Street:

Click for larger photo

And here’s the second, at 4 Elk Street. It’s now the home of the New York State Bar Association:

Click for larger photo

Click for larger photo

I’m excited about getting back on the bike. Despite my initial worries, most of my new responsibilities are a lot more conducive to bike commuting than my old duties were. I have two hotels in Schenectady that I’ll have to drive to, and a weekly staff meeting in Saratoga Springs, but the rest of my job is right here in downtown Albany.

The Packet Boat sails again!

Photo courtesy of Joey Mac

No, that’s not the title of the new Coen Brothers movie. It’s a YouTube video of a 13-hour, 400-mile trip from Monterey, CA, to Los Angeles via Xtracycle and Amtrak. The video is about 7 minutes long. Enjoy!

I’m still learning my way around the area, and I was looking for a grocery store or an interesting restaurant. As it turned out, there was a Price Chopper about 3/4 of a mile from my place, so I got to use the Packet Boat (Xtracycle) for its intended purpose — as a lean, mean, cargo transportin’ machine. It’s goofy, but I get a lot of enjoyment out of jamming as much stuff as possible into the oversized bags on the Packet Boat.

I’ll say one thing for the city of Albany: It sure has a lot more hills than Rochester. I’m originally from the Berkshires, a range of hills across the border in Massachusetts, but I didn’t do much riding there as a kid. Mostly on a Big Wheel, probably. So I’m getting my first taste of the Hudson Valley hills, and they’re fun. Even in the city, you can find some nice climbs and nice descents.

I’ve been wanting to read The Art of Cycling: A Guide to Bicycling in 21st-Century America by Robert Hurst for a long time. Julie White’s recent post on RocBike finally spurred me to order a copy. It’s great. I’m about halfway through, and I really like the mix of “vehicular cycling” and “adaptive cycling” that Hurst proposes.

My own experience bears out the need to break free from Forester’s vehicular cycling when circumstances warrant. When my 5-year-old son Bernie and I were bike commuting each day, we’d spend some time on the sidewalk in the busiest sections. You just can’t expect a little kid to make the right decision every time. Or to make it quickly enough.

If you’d like to check out the book for yourself, here’s the link:

That’s right. I finally bought a bike rack for the car and drove The Packet Boat (Xtracycle) down the Thruway to Saratoga Springs. Here’s a craptastic picture taken with my camera phone in front of my temporary apartment:

Look for ride reports soon!

And next week: I’m gettin’ the cruiser from Joey Mac and driving it across the state, too.

22 pounds of turkey, a gallon of cider, a laptop, a full messenger bag — no problem!

Stocking up on a cold November day

The South Wedge Farmers Market is one of the best new things of 2007

Jen and John browse through the stalls

Bernie with some challah bread from Ant Hill Coop

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours from RocBike.com!

Tonight was the Critical Masquerade — Critical Mass with Halloween costumes. Although, as it turned out, only a few of us were in costume. I wore my black-and-white Walz cap and most of my typical costume from my vintage baseball days at Genesee Country Village. I didn’t get any pictures of myself, but I looked a bit like this:

It was about 57 degrees and raining when we started out. It got colder, but it never stopped raining. I arrived on the Xtracycle with a metal bucket full of candy strapped on the back. A few minutes after I showed up, though, Team RocBike member Adam Durand came and suggested that he ride on the back of the Packet Boat and leave his own bike locked up downtown. That was fine with me because: (a) I dig Adam and (b) I was excited to take an adult on the X for the first time. (At least, it was my first time. Adam borrowed the Packet Boat a few weeks ago and took a friend on it for 20+ miles.) Stopping and starting is a bit of a challenge, and the slow speed of the Mass certainly didn’t make it easier to balance 300 pounds on the bike, but we did just fine for the 15 or so miles of the ride. Midway through, Adam hopped off the Boat and his significant other, Kristine, hopped on. She took all the road photos that are in the video and in the gallery below. Thanks, Kristine!

We had a good turnout despite the stinky weather. I’m terrible at estimating crowds, but I’d say we had 40-50 riders at the height of the ride. We rode through downtown, then up past the High Falls district to High Falls Blvd, eventually coming back down Hudson Ave and back into the city. It was a lot easier to ride with an adult passenger than I’d expected. There was a bit of wobble for the first few minutes, but I got more stable fairly quickly. (You can ask Adam whether he agrees…)

Adam and I did have one scary moment right after we dropped off his bike on Gibbs St. As we were crossing on the Packet Boat at the corner of East and Main to join the Mass, a car nearly ran into us. Half of Team RocBike was almost killed! Luckily, even had we been smeared across the front of the guy’s car, Jack Spula was on the ride to carry on the RocBike name.

The ride ended at St. Joseph’s House of Hospitality, where the Massers watched Jesus Camp. While they were watching the movie (and bagging up some free swiss chard courtesy of St. Joe’s), Adam and Gary Young and Caitlin Holcombe fixed a flat that Caitlin got toward the end of the ride. (Caitlin’s first submission to RocBike.com is on the way … or else! Don’t make us get all spindly and vegan on you!)

Here’s a video recap of tonight’s ride. Adam will have another one of his own soon. This video runs about 6 minutes. It features video of the start of the Mass, photos from the road, and an incomplete but wonderful how-to segment on patching a punctured tube. With Adam. In a dress.

And here are my photos. These are all in the video, too.

It was gorgeous here on Saturday, so I went for a nice ride — about 15 miles, but never farther than 3 miles from my house. It was fun to explore so much ground so close to home.

I started on South Ave at School No. 12, which occupies the former site of one of Frederick Douglass’s homes. Douglass lived in Rochester and did much of his most important work here, including publishing his paper, The North Star, and giving his famous “The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro” speech at Rochester’s Corinthian Hall in 1852. Here’s an excerpt from the speech:

Fellow-citizens, above your national, tumultuous joy, I hear the mournful wail of millions! whose chains, heavy and grievous yesterday, are, to-day, rendered more intolerable by the jubilee shouts that reach them. If I do forget, if I do not faithfully remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, “may my right hand forget her cunning, and may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth!” To forget them, to pass lightly over their wrongs, and to chime in with the popular theme, would be treason most scandalous and shocking, and would make me a reproach before God and the world. My subject, then, fellow-citizens, is American slavery. I shall see this day and its popular characteristics from the slave’s point of view. Standing there identified with the American bondman, making his wrongs mine, I do not hesitate to declare, with all my soul, that the character and conduct of this nation never looked blacker to me than on this 4th of July! Whether we turn to the declarations of the past, or to the professions of the present, the conduct of the nation seems equally hideous and revolting. America.is false to the past, false to the present, and solemnly binds herself to be false to the future. Standing with God and the crushed and bleeding slave on this occasion, I will, in the name of humanity which is outraged, in the name of liberty which is fettered, in the name of the constitution and the Bible which are disregarded and trampled upon, dare to call in question and to denounce, with all the emphasis I can command, everything that serves to perpetuate slavery — the great sin and shame of America! “I will not equivocate; I will not excuse”; I will use the severest language I can command; and yet not one word shall escape me that any man, whose judgment is not blinded by prejudice, or who is not at heart a slaveholder, shall not confess to be right and just.

A detailed historical marker now stands in front of School No. 12, replacing this older marker:

Douglass lived in several homes in Rochester, including one on this site on South Ave. That home burned down — arson was suspected, but never proven.

Next to the school is a lovely pond that was on the Douglass property. During the winter, this pond serves as the Highland Park Skating Rink:

I rode up to Highland Bowl from the pond. It was actually a little tricky on the Packet Boat (Xtracycle) with no cargo, because the back wheel slipped a few times. The back wheel is about 18 inches behind the saddle on an Xtracycle, so very little of my weight is on the wheel. With more cargo or a passenger, I’ve never had any problems.

On one of the rims of Highland Bowl stands a statue of Frederick Douglass:

This is believed to be the first statue erected in the United States to honor an African-American

Looking down into the Bowl from the statue, you can see the stage that has welcomed everything from jazz to Shakespeare.

From Highland Bowl, I rode down Reservoir Street and crossed over Mt. Hope Avenue into the Mount Hope Cemetery, the first municipal Victorian cemetery in the United States. It’s incredibly beautiful — and a great place to ride if hills are your thing. Frederick Douglass is buried there, as are Susan B. Anthony and these other famous folks (as listed on the cemetery’s history page):

• Lewis Henry Morgan, internationally known father of the science of anthropology
• Hiram Sibley, founder of Western Union and instigator of the purchase of Alaska
• Dr. Hartwell Carver, father of the transcontinental railroad
• John Jacob Bausch and Henry Lomb, founders of the optical company Bausch & Lomb
• Adelaide Crapsey, the famous imagist poet
• Frank E. Gannett, newspaper publisher, (Jason says: He was also a notorious union-buster and coiner of the phrase “right to work”)
• Seth Green, inventor of the fish hatchery
• Myron Holley, instigator and builder of the Erie Canal
• Margaret Woodbury Strong, indefatigable collector of Victoriana and founder of the Strong Museum
• George B. Selden, inventor of the automobile (and don’t let Detroit tell you otherwise)
• Johnny Baker, Buffalo Bill’s foster son and sharpshooter in the Wild West Show
• Elizabeth Hollister Frost, the poet and novelist

Some of my distant Flanders cousins are also buried here.

I exited the cemetery on the Elmwood Avenue side and rode down to the University of Rochester. After riding through the campus a bit, I hopped on the Genesee Riverway Trail, where I took these photos of the Rochester skyline:

I rode the trail down the east side of the Genesee to Court Street, then down Court to the west side of the trail. From the Court Street entrance to the trail, you get a nice view of the new Frederick Douglass — Susan B. Anthony Bridge:

An old station on the Lehigh Valley Railroad, now the Dinosaur BBQ. Behind it are the Bausch & Lomb building (left) and the Xerox building (right)

Then I rode back on the west side of the river to the new Corn Hill Landing:

I ran into my good friend Richard DeSarra at Corn Hill Creamery. I first met Richard when I was station manager and drive-time host at Jazz90.1, and we see each other every year at the Rochester International Jazz Festival. Richard is also the co-vice president and trail access coordinator for the Rochester Bicycling Club. He’s a lot more than that, though. I found out this weekend that Richard and a partner founded Freewheelers Bike Shop back in the 1970s. (The shop is still running under new management.) I also learned about his vital role in things like bike racks on our city buses and the creation of the boardwalk on the Genesee Riverway Trail. And, I learned some very exciting news about a big cycling event coming up in this area next year. I can’t tell you yet, but maybe I can convince the powers that be to let you hear it here first when they’re ready to make it public. And look for Richard on a future episode of The RocBike Review!

• The rest of my pictures from the ride are in the gallery.

Buying the Packet Boat (Xtracycle) has done more than just revolutionize my concept of cycling. It’s also led me to some great uses for cargo bikes. Like this one…

Bicycle Diaries featured a story today about a Portland coffee shop that sent 400 long-load bicycles to Rwanda to help coffee bean growers there. It’s worth watching.

If you’d like to help, you can contribute at the Bikes To Rwanda site. The bikes were designed by Jay Ritchey.

UPDATE: Clara Seasholtz from Bikes To Rwanda sent this correction:

FYI – Bikes were designed by Tom Ritchey, founder and owner of Ritchey Logic. Jay is Tom’s son, currently living in Rwanda and a huge part of the bike roll-out and maintenance program. Thanks for the shout out. We appreciate the support and interest.
Best,
BTR

Thanks, Clara!

As Bernie and I were making our first commute on the Packet Boat (Xtracycle) this morning, we came upon a school bus stuck on the highway overpass on Monroe Ave. The driver had made too wide a turn, and his front passenger wheel was lodged against the curb. There was also a truck behind him, but at his strange angle he couldn’t see well enough to back up. Traffic was piling up in both directions on one of the most heavily used streets in Rochester.

Bernie and I came up alongside the bus. We parked the Packet on the sidewalk and I asked the driver if he wanted help. He said yes, so I guided him out of the jam and on his way. Then the crew of the Packet, their good deed done, sailed off to school and work. Huzzah!

Joey also took photos of the Packet:

Cyclocross is a form of bicycle racing. Races take place typically in the autumn and winter (the international or “World Cup” season is September-January), and consists of many laps of a short (2.5–3.5 km or 1.5–2 mile) course featuring pavement, wooded trails, grass, steep hills and obstacles requiring the rider to quickly dismount, carry the bike whilst navigating the obstruction and remount in one graceful motion.[1][2] Races for senior categories are generally between 30 minutes and an hour long, with the distance varying depending on the ground conditions. The sport is strongest in the traditional road cycling countries such as Belgium (and Flanders in particular) and France.

Getting some air on Cobbs Hill

Cobbs Hill was a nice site for the race. Steep hills, lots of switchbacks, and good places from which to watch the race. And bringing the Packet to the race was like bringing a bag of cash to Capitol Hill. Everyone was crowding around me, wanting to know about the bike. I met several RocBike regulars for the first time, including Joey and Gary. I also ran into Shana, Bruce, and Tim. Hey gang! (Be sure to check out Bruce’s photos and Joey’s photos.)

This is Tung Luong from Full Moon Vista, one of the assemblers of my Xtracycle. As he came down the big hill, he saw me and yelled “Hey, Xtracycle!”

I whittled my gazillion pictures down into a few dozen:

12►

• (a) it was on rails
• (b) a dream
• (c) a hot knife through butter
• (d) Dick Cheney’s man-sized safe
• (e) all of the above

I didn’t have anything else to buy, but I wanted to go pick up a surfboard and a mini fridge just to strap them onto The Packet and go!

Now I just need to rig up a passenger handlebar. Huzzah!

There’s also a photo gallery from today’s ride. All photos by Adam Durand:

Turn that frown upside-down: The Packet Boat (my new Xtracycle) is on the road! The folks at Full Moon Vista treated me extremely well, and I was able to afford the installation fee. Thanks to everyone at FMV for helping put my new bike together so well.

Downtown was barricaded today for the Columbus Day Parade. I took a smallpox-covered blanket and packed it in the big bags on the Packet and rode alongside the parade for a while. Several people stopped me to ask about the bike. Going up Main Street, I came upon RocBike’s own Jack Spula and organic farmer Elizabeth Henderson. Jack hopped on the back and we went for a quick spin down an alley. I was pretty wobbly — I don’t have much practice carrying 170 lbs on the back of a bike. (I hope it’s OK that I revealed that, Jack.) But we made it without injury. I rode with Jack and Elizabeth back to the South Wedge, visited some friends, and then headed home.

Once at home, I grabbed Bernie and his helmet, and we took off on the Packet for Park Ave and Abbot’s ice cream shop. A quick milkshake and cone later, we were off to see RocBike’s own Adam Durand, who will likely be Rochester’s second Xtracycle owner. Adam took some photos, so those will be up on the site later today. Adam also hopped on the back. It was wobbly until we got up past 11 or 12 mph, then it felt more stable. Adam can chime in with his own thoughts on the passenger experience. I’m sure as I get better at managing the weight, the ride will be a lot smoother.

The Packet rides like a dream. It corners extremely well, even with Bernie’s 40+ pounds on the back. Without any excess weight, it feels like a more stable version of a regular bike.

Simply put: I’m in love! Lots, lots, lots, lots (ad nauseum) more to come, I’m sure.

Just a few minutes ago, I dropped off the Xtracycle at Full Moon Vista. While there, I met Scott, the owner. He complimented the site, particularly the argyle and the layout. What can I say? I’m nothing if not a fashionista! And luckily Adam was able to turn my grandpa-esque fashion sense into a lovely Web design.

I also ran into Bruce from Scenic Route, and got to see his Portland up close. What a beauty!

Shana was also there, in between classes. She joked that she “knew I was coming” from reading RocBike.com.

Everyone was interested in the Xtracycle. We gathered around and paged through the manual a bit. Folks seemed to think it was pretty hip. And who am I to disagree?

I believe I shall name the new creation The Packet Boat, because it was funded by freelance writing for The Island Packet newspaper on Hilton Head Island. (My jazz writing and my jazz show are at The Jazz Session.)

The bike will be ready tomorrow. Pictures are on the way!

Also: Jack, Adam and I are going to take a shot at recording the first episode of The Rocbike Review podcast tonight. Stay tuned!

My Xtracycle conversion kit arrived today. Tomorrow, the fine folks at Full Moon Vista will be assembling it. On Friday, I’ll get paid and thus be able to pay the aforementioned fine folks at Full Moon Vista. Sport-utility cycling awaits!

…to my house!