Daily Fix

A year in the life of a non-Blogger.

2012-12-29T23:04:00.000-08:00

I started 2012 by riding my bicycle. I got first tracks to the Heli-Pad.

Later, I experimented with my facial hair. Thoughts?

Kalea returned from Alaska and she said I wasn't allowed to dress like a pedophile anymore, so I shaved my mustache and went climbing in a magical, secret, hidden climbing spot with my friend Jonathan Scrock. We were using ice tools.

When I got done getting scared with Jonathan, I drove to Echo Echo Echo, Oregon with Kalea, Matt, Amy and I raced my Mountain Bicycle for the first time.

After a recovery drink we spent some time with Seth and Michelle Finley from the Blue Ribbon land of Corvallis. We did some Catan playing and camping, among other things with these folks.

In fulfillment of a prophetic word given to me many years ago, I did some modeling for REI. I was a natural...well, of course I was a natural!

Mr. Clean is also a model. Here we are playing paper football. Usually, we rode bikes and enjoyed local breweries together. Unfortunately, he and I are now nursing a long-distance relationship.

Fortunately, we got a house out of the deal in Medford, Oregon. I got a new job at REI, too. Now I get to work on bikes and skis for a living...

Kalea became with-child at some point during 2012. Dane called the baby, "cookie" which disturbed me to no end because "cookie" is also Dane's term for anything that is eaten trailside. Oh well. Kalea is gracing me with her presence in Lithia Park in the uber-hip town of Ash Land.

At this point Kalea and my identity shifted from ourselves to our relationship to a little girl. Kalea is no longer Kalea...her name is mom. This is Ira May. She is happy that she is no longer in her mother's belly. Her mother may be celebrating most, though.

Her father is also celebrating. He is practicing work/life balance. He's at work in this picture...

That was the Stumbo family's year in pictures. It goes by quick, doesn't it? Ira May's father aspires to keep family and friends posted more frequently. Please stay tuned for many inspiring 2013 posts.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Cold Then Warm Then Cold

2012-01-16T17:26:00.000-08:00

It would seem that cold weather is the catalyst for good blogging or for blogging in general since I haven't been motivated to post a cycling blog since April. Folks, it's been too long. Since we last spoke (or since I last wrote) I have purchased three bikes and sold two. The original motivators for starting a blog have been laid in someone else's hands to rest. Rest in peace Capo and Sojourn...I never intended for it to be this way.

Oh well, I'm over it! And I say welcome to the family XXIX+G, CX Team and CR1 Team. Pictures of these bikes to come.

I have joined the Cascade Couriers/Bend Velo Cycling team and I'm getting excited about a year of bike racing (or something like that). This blog is being thusly transformed into a training journal of sorts where you can keep track of Samuel Stumbo and his racing adventures and misadventures.

Cold weather or not I commit to keep you updated on what happens this year. Enjoy.

Big Wheels Keep On Turnin'

2011-04-18T18:04:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about riding my Capo down the Oregon Coast. North to south. My goal is three days. There are 360ish miles on the Oregon Coast. That means that I have to ride 120ish miles a day...on a fixie. So I went for a quick spin today on the Johnson Road Loop. That loop is 20 miles. I rode that in an hour and twenty minutes. I figure that at that pace, I should only have to be on the bike about 7 hours a day--give or take. It seems more manageable when I think of 120 miles in those terms. Just 20 miles at a time. So, much of what you hear from me from here on out will be looking forward to that. Lots of gear reviews especially. I hope you enjoy.

Whiskey For My Men and Beer For My Bikes

2011-04-15T07:51:00.000-07:00

Remember those whiskey barrels that I carried home with my bicycle? Well, I cut 'em in half and I filled 'em with dirt...arrrgh. (For some reason I was thinking this is something a pirate might say, but then it occurred to me that maybe an Irish accent would be more appropriate.) Oh, I also put them on caster wheels so that I can roll them around real easy-like. There are some radishes growing in one of them already. Monday I was pulling my Burley down ninth and I saw a shop that was called Green Leaf. I thought it might be some sort of indoor-gardening store and I thought they might have the potting soil that I was interested in. Sure enough, those folks had exactly what I was looking for and more. They had all sorts of fancy equipment that I could use to grow stuff inside. They even had these television systems with video cameras, so I could monitor what kind of folks was showing up on my doorstep. You never know who might be coming to get your vegetables! They didn't actually have the security systems. That was a joke. You maybe get the point, though. This so called "Green Leaf" store is catering to a very particular demographic. The fellow, Hopi was his name, gave me a ten percent discount. I thought that was awful nice of him. If you're a "dude-bro", go support Green Leaf on Ninth and Wilson.

So I got 120 pounds of dirt put in my trailer and I left for Parr Lumber to get some hardware. Fortunately when my rear wheel fell off it was pretty obvious and I was able to stop quickly. Fortunately it's only the second time my rear wheel has chosen to go it's own way...this year. It is really not that bad. The wheel hasn't actually come completely off. It's just popped out of the dropouts and stopped my bike. I just tightened up my quick-release skewers and continued on, but the thought is always in the back of mind, "so what happens when this same problem occurs at 25mph down Reed Market?" No biggie.

I got my casters and went home with no greater event. Now my radishes are happily growing and we have a big tray of various vegetable starts that we started from seed sitting in our windowsill. It's cold enough that I'm shopping around for leg warmers still, though, so it's too cold to plant most of those vegetables in my barrels. When that day comes, I promise to post some pictures.

Brave or Stupid?

2011-04-09T10:07:00.000-07:00

Despite baring my knees for the rest of the season, the cold and snow and icy morning commutes have come back. The weather can't fool me, though. The longer days and the warmth of the sun, despite a crispness to the air, are all tell-tale signs of spring and warmer weather to come. That said, I have been thinking about purchasing a set of leg warmers for the early morning rides. I just haven't run across any that fit well.

My friend Chris (he rides his bike a lot, too) told me that he saw another bike commuter on his way to work the other morning. He said that it was good to see the other guy out there riding his blue Scott bike. He said it was good to see the other guy out there because you don't often have company for questionable weather and early morning rides. The same experience happened for me on Thursday morning at about 6:30. Some guy was entering the Reed Market roundabout a quarter-turn behind me. I waved at him and smiled. "We're not alone out here," I said to my faithful steed. We trotted the rest of the way to work and I got distracted by many, many things.

This morning's reflections jogged my memory, though.Year round commuting is lonely. I mean, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I'm addicted to it...but there are days when it is very lonely. On those days cars are no longer vehicles driven by people, but hideous machines that are out to destroy anything that gets in their path. Often you play games with yourself for motivation to keep going. To keep riding. Mostly the games that I play have to do with not falling and not getting run over by cars while my feet are dragging in eight inches of snow with each pedal stroke and the shoulder is only two inches wide and half-ton machines are zipping by at 30-plus mph. It's funny to read, but really more of a serious game when you're actually playing it. It is not a game that I would recommend for everyone. Oh, and did I mention that you usually have to play alone. No chatting on the cell-y tell-y for your commute to work anymore...

Despite these mind-games, when I get to work, the adrenaline rush overtakes the fear and pain from the commute and makes me want to do it again. People have often said to me, "I don't know whether to think you're brave or stupid." To which I have many-times replied , "Oh, it isn't that bad. You just have to get out there and do it." Which is mostly true, but thinking back, I have ridden on days that I ask myself the same "brave or stupid" question. From my point of view it is neither. I am very grateful for the warmer weather and less snow. I mentioned that the roads were icy the last couple of mornings. I'll be honest: I wasn't looking forward to riding on slippery roads. You can't just enjoy the scenery when you are riding on ice. You have to be completely focused. It takes as much out of me mentally as it does physically.

As a reprise, I love the challenge of riding through the winter. I hope that me riding daily inspires other people to ride daily, because it is often lonely in the darker, colder months. That said, I am glad spring has sprung and bike commuters are rejoining Chris and I more and more.

My Inner-Monologue on Rich People

2011-04-06T21:26:00.000-07:00

My friend Paul gave me a statistic today. Most bike commuters are lower and middle class. I think that makes sense. If I could afford expensive cars and high-end electronics, I probably wouldn't have time to ride my bike. I'd be too busy talking to clients on my cellphone and doing important stuff to stimulate the economy.

I was thinking very cynically about this on my ride home tonight. "Look at all these rich people in their large Sport Utility Vehicles," I thought. Then my conscience spoke, "You're not better than them, you know." This is often a struggle I run into as a bike commuter. The idea tries to creep in that I'm somehow better than the non-cyclist commuter. It's really just insecurity coming through. I feel like the little weird-o out there, riding in the cold who doesn't have enough money to drive a car. It's not that these things are true (well, I don't think they are anyway), but it's how I imagine the guy in the lifted one-ton Chevy Silverado perceives me. I think that he thinks that I'm some poor freak who can't make enough to drive, so I ride my bike. Of course, these assumptions are mostly ridiculous, but it's the train that I catch my sub-conscious on every now and then.

The revelation came today that we are all a lot of people running around on grids that we've made and we all have our transportation tastes. Some people are in it for the efficiency (most people, really) and some, like myself, are in it for the scenery. I'll sacrifice some comfort and efficiency to see the scenery, to breathe the air, to live. It's my thing. It isn't for everyone. And that's o.k. Besides I have a thing for big trucks.

Flying On A Kid's Bike

2011-03-27T14:29:00.000-07:00

Matt Priest - Welcome To Amity from Mike King on Vimeo.

I just ran across this video today. Maybe not everyone wants to fly, but I certainly do. Watching videos like this gives me butterflies in my stomach and makes my palms sweat. When you fly, failure is not a sustainable option. You are aware of the consequences, but you push them to the very back of your mind to a place where they cannot effect your commitment to the takeoff. In this world governed by gravity it is the takeoff that is key to successful flight. Botch the takeoff and the landing will be hard.

I'm still trying to figure out how to fly. If you're going to fly, you have to give everything that you are to the art. Matt Priest didn't just wake up one morning with the ability to fly on a kids bike, he put countless hours into practicing the takeoffs. Sometimes the landings were hard. The same with CEO's and entrepreneurs--in developing their companies and corporations, they have spent many hours investing in their flight. It's chasing after the dream, not accepting the present--grounded reality, but striving for something bigger, something more...not status-quo. We all have a dream. I guess we have to pursue it in order to learn how to fly.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

2011-03-25T10:30:00.000-07:00

This too is a fixie.

My mother-in-law and sister-in-law were in town with us last week and we went for a walk... only I rode this unicycle. The next day I got a hair cut and shaved my beard off. I guess that's what happens when you ride a unicycle.

Don't Argue With Me, I'm Wrong

2011-03-24T13:12:00.000-07:00

Kalea and I drove to Roseburg on Sunday. On Monday we road a 15 mile loop, through wine country. On Tuesday we road a 28 mile loop through sheep pasture land. The weather on Tuesday was perfect. So perfect that wearing my bike shorts left me with a bike short tan. Tan lines are sexy. Especially when they are super contrasting-like the one that I get mid-thigh from my bike shorts. There's white and then there's tan. I feel the same about a good farmer's-tan, as well.

On Tuesday when we did the 28 mile ride, it was really only supposed to be a 22 mile ride. I accidentally missed a turn off, though. My faithful wife stayed with me the whole way even though she was pretty sure we had taken a wrong turn somewhere. I told her that even though it was painful, she would be proud of herself when she made it back to the car and relaxed for a bit. I was right. She cussed me in the car, but once we got home she was gleeful about riding the second-furthest distance that she's ever ridden on a bicycle in one go. For the record, that's the only time I've been right about a disagreement we've had on this trip. She's been right the rest of the time. Like when I couldn't remember the name of the bank that I was supposed to go to. I was certain that she was wrong about the name having the word "Cascade" in it. Well, it did have that word in it. Then there was the time that I thought the route that we took was not as long as it was and she had guessed the distance within a mile and a half. I told her she was wrong, but she was really more right than I.

I learned that being wrong is not such a bad thing. Just like the pain that you feel after sitting on your bike saddle for 30+ miles, making mistakes is good for you. Not only does it build character, it develops strength. The more times I'm wrong, the less it hurts to admit that I'm wrong. I think that's why God let's me be wrong so much and why He gave me such a smart wife.

On Wednesday we let our legs heal up a bit and visited with family and drove to the coast. We'll ride probably go for a ride and find a place to camp for the night. Then we'll drive back to Bend. I'll probably be wrong again before we get home and that's okay.

Lederhosen and Woolen Knee-Highs

2011-03-18T08:46:00.000-07:00

I made up my mind a few days ago. It's March, so I'm not going to wear pants anymore. Tuesday I dug my favorite pair of Columbia shorts out (the ones with two holes in the backside from being atop a bicycle) and I put them on with the intention of wearing them (shorts in general, that is) until winter comes next year. The first day of spring is not until the twentieth, I know, but I thought I'd get a head start this year.

Now, you may be wondering how I'm able to get such a head start on my shorts-wearing season when it is still so frigid out. Easy. I wear knee-high Smartwool socks. Yesterday morning I rode to work and the temperature was 22 degrees. "Not a problem," I thought to myself. "I'll just throw on a set of knee-highs." For riding this is my favorite combination. A thick Woolrich wool shirt tucked into my shorts completes the German ensemble very well. All I need now are a set of red suspenders and a funny hat. I'm not joking.

This is not a picture of me. My lederhosen are shorter. Much shorter.

I think the Bavarian people had something here. We all know the style is incredible, but it's the practicality of the outfit that astounds me. Long rides are no longer a problem with lederhosen. You have an increased range of motion. You don't get chafing in your knee-caps. You have exceptional breathability, but warmth (with the knee-highs) enough to endure frigid mountain temperatures. Need I say more?

When you are purchasing proper lederhosen (or just shorts) for cycling, one thing to keep in mind is the size of the leg-opening. A larger leg opening on an above-the-knee short (which is what I prefer) can be very refreshing, but also very revealing. A quick ride down a nice steep hill will leave nothing for the imagination unless you wear proper under layers. As an added warning, remove bulky objects, such as keys and cell phones from your pockets as these will further promote exposure especially when your cadence is high.

I prefer to wear a short with smaller leg openings. I have smaller legs and I need all the help being modest that I can get. In lieu of the short season coming upon us, I purchased a new set of shorts from REI. They are the REI Castle Mountain short. So far, a new favorite. The Castle Mountain lederhosen are made from a blend of cotton, nylon and a scosche of spandex to give some stretch. They have a nine inch inseam and, on the 30" waisted version, the leg openings are small enough to not show my scivies. The pockets are a little long. They stick out the bottom of my shorts when I ride. I kind of like this, though, as it reminds me of my days wearing daisy-dukes (which are certainly not over). These shorts are durable, they dry quickly and are as comfortable as a quinzee hut.

The one issue that I run into with early season shorts and knee-high socks, is that my kneecaps are exposed to freezing temperatures. Yesterday, when it was 22 degrees, my knees were cold and stiff. To remedy this, many cycling manufacturers have developed thigh-high leg warmers. This is a great option, but can be very costly, especially for a good, soft merino wool model. Someday, maybe I'll purchase a pair of these, but for now, I'll just deal with cold knee caps. After all, it's the middle of March and it's time to show off your lederhosen.

"L" is for Lubricant

2011-03-16T09:07:00.000-07:00

Some of you may have noticed the Daily Fix being a little quiet over the last couple weeks. I guess that's what happens when you have to do a real job, too. It likely comes as a surprise to you that I'm not at home in my underwear with a cup of coffee pondering bicycle frame geometry all day long. No, that's what I do at work...with the addition of pants...usually.

Today's topic is brought to you by Dumonde Tech and by the letter "L". L is for lubrication and that, specifically of bicycle components including the chain. Chain lubrication is by far one of the most beneficial preventative steps to holistic health for your bicycle. A well-lubricated chain will drastically improve the lifespan of your entire drive-train. There are a lot of different chain lubricants on the market. I have used several of them, but currently I'm using Dumonde Tech Lite chain lubricant. "Liquid plastic through polymerization forms long lasting coat on all chain surfaces." That's the description on the bottle. Dumonde Tech specializes in lubricants for motorcycles and bicycles and claims to be the longest lasting lube on the market. They specifically instruct the rider to not reapply chain lube until the chain begins to make a sound. I've never heard my chain make this fabled sound, but I decided to take them up on the challenge.

I ride my bike everyday through rain, snow and crushed basalt and I figure, if anyone's going to need to keep their chain lubed it's the year-round bike commuters. Two weeks later, after lubing my chain with Dumonde Tech Lite, I started to hear a squeaking sound coming from down there. I was a little confused at first, because I haven't actually gone two whole weeks without lubing my chain. The new sound escalated to an unbearable point yesterday and I finally determined that the squeaking down there was, in fact, my parched chain crying out and not a squirrel in my shorts. Today I will be reapplying the Dumonde Tech lube. The chain sound was very obvious and a good "time-to-lube-your-chain" alarm. In the winter I usually go a week before I reapply. Doubling that time is not such a bad thing. It saves lube and it means less bad stuff is seeping into the dirt.

Dumonde Tech also makes a lubricant called Bio-Green which is a plant-based lubricant. I have used it in the past, but I'll have to pull it out again and see how long I can go between lubes with the all-natural stuff. Whether you use Dumonde Tech's product or not. It is imperative that you lube your chain...for your sanity and that of your friends.

Yeah, I'm All Lit Up Again

2011-03-08T21:21:00.000-08:00

I was taking my time getting ready this morning. I was certain I had to be to work at 9:45. My schedule disagreed and claimed 9:30. I called my manager to warn them of my mistake. I hung up the phone and my front tire deflated, the first flat I have had in a couple of years. My faithful bike and I limped the rest of the way to work. Only half an hour tardy. It's important to have days like this. It reminds me that I'm human. Actually, the whole last week was kind of a reminder of that.

On the bright side, I received my new headlights from NiteRider today. I tried them out on the way home from the CSA and was pleasantly surprised by the view that I had. Kind of like daylight. I'll try to take some video sometime soon to demonstrate the output. It's pretty amazing. More soon.

The Circus Freaks Are Here

2011-03-02T22:56:00.000-08:00

Trials riding is hard. Danny MacAskill makes it look easy.

Danny MacAskill - "Way Back Home" from diablonet on Vimeo.

You don't have to like cycling to respect what Danny is doing. It's beautiful and it's genius. It's also kind of weird if you think about it. I mean, who climbs up onto a castle with a bicycle that doesn't even have usable seat and then jumps off again? And what about the riding on one wheel thing? The bike has two perfectly good, usable wheels for a reason, right? This guy makes it poetry, though. It's for others to enjoy. It's entertainment. That's what makes the circus so enjoyable. People who decided to do what everyone else is doing and get a real job get to sit and watch freaks do things that they, themselves wish they could do. Who doesn't want to ride a unicycle across a tight rope while juggling? I sure do. Seriously.

In fact, today was another pleasant day and I was feeling antsy, so I decided to pump up the tire on one of my unicycles and find my balance again. I felt pretty goofy trying to get going on it. Someday I want to ride it down the street while juggling. I also want to ride it to work. Besides being an incredible work out riding a unicycle is one of those things that's...well...unique. There aren't too many people out there that can say they can ride a unicycle well. I can't ride it well, but I can ride it to the end of the alley and back without stopping. I actually got off once today because an Asian man driving a Japanese car was so confused by the Caucasian riding a one wheeled fixie past his house, that he forgot to stop. I hopped off before I ran into the bank of snow piled up against the fence and allowed the gaping Asian to pass.

The truth of the matter is, I think he has the right to stare. This is part of life. There are people who follow the broad road, forsaking their dreams. And then there are circus freaks. Danny MacAskill probably falls under the circus freak category. I definitely do.

Four-Plexes and Enchiladas

2011-03-01T21:25:00.000-08:00

The chicken enchiladas that I just finished were the perfect end to a good day. They were well earned, too, in my opinion. I pulled the trailer into work this morning at 6:40. I thought about how pleasant the weather was. I thought about my scarf flopping around in the wind. My legs felt strong and the trailer felt light. Work was a breeze. I drank coffee and built bicycles. I rode the bikes that I built around the Old Mill in the pleasant weather. I thought about my new Niterider headlights that are coming in the mail shortly.

It's easy to lose yourself in your thoughts when you are truing wheels and disc-brake rotors. My thoughts were disrupted at three, when I realized it was time to pull the grocery-getter over to Mother's and help out at the CSA. I handed out produce shares to 90-ish people who are interested in supporting local farmers. I rode home with my own share in tow. I observed that, by the end of the day, my legs do not feel as strong. The air, however, felt pleasant. My thoughts roamed around some more. I thought about the low-income neighborhood that I was riding through. I thought about what kind of people might live in those buildings, the duplexes and four-plexes backed up against the railroad tracks. All those people are living in a reality that is probably somehow similar to my own, but at the same time is so far away.

I blinked and I was home. My flashing lights and Jesus had been predictably faithful in escorting me safely home. I thought about how, no matter how tired I am, riding bikes is always worth it. Especially when there are enchiladas as a reward.

And the Winner Is...

2011-02-25T22:20:00.000-08:00

John Furrow of Bend, OR is the winner of February's cycling story of the month contest. He will be enjoying his one pound of Backporch coffee while cruising around in his brand new Lamborghini Diablo. Now you wish you would have sent a story don't you. It's o.k., there will be plenty more chances. I didn't actually give him a Lamborghini, though. Just the coffee, which is in his box at work (if you were wondering, John). For your enjoyment today, here is John's story:

Circa 1988, I came home from my early morning job at UPS. My brother was asleep… ok, passed out on the couch. Next to the couch was a beautiful new black shiny Schwinn mountain bike. I heard our friend Scott had just bought a new mountain bike, but this was the first time seeing one in person. I’m sure it was a tough decision for Scott to allow his brand new mountain bike to leave his apartment underneath a sloshed helmsman, but that’s what friends are for. Too bad Scott didn’t think far enough ahead to see me staring at that bike, knowing that bike was yearning for first dirt, wanting someone to ride it where Scott would never be able to.

No more than a half mile to the west of the house was the Phoenix Mountain Preserve, a collection of rocky desert peaks. In clear sight was a streak of gray, dropping directly down from the top of the closest peak. The gray streak cascaded roughly 200 feet down to the highest trail. This would be my test run. Mountain bikes, I’d heard, were good at rolling downhill over steep and rocky terrain. I’d even seen pictures in magazines!

It took me no time flat to crest the top of the trail on the shiny new bike. I banked left and up the gray streak only to sink four inches deep in talus. Turns out, my test run would be more challenging than I thought. Not one to be deterred by common sense or succumb to better judgment, I hoisted the bike up the 50+ degree talus “streak.” With every step I seemed to slide down two, yet I was determined to reach the summit and let gravity work her magic as I would soon be flying down this monument in full glory on a shiny new Schwinn. I was forced to stop just shy of the summit as the peak itself jutted up 15 feet of near vertical rock. Out of breath, I turned around on the river of scree and gazed down hungrily at my playground.

Adrenaline has a way of rationalizing insanity. My first mountain bike ride was to be an epic downhill thrill ride. Trying to mount a bike on such a steep slope is rather tricky and committing. A few awkward attempts went by before I figure it out. The next attempt would be the start of a huge descent. Leaping on and hammering the pedals, mouth agape, I swiftly surfed downward. Soon however, my feet could not keep up with the Schwinn. Barreling out of control, the front tire trenched deep into the scree, catapulting me over the bike. Before I could think, “this was a bad idea,” I was somersaulting through sharp schist with the shiny black Schwinn right behind me.

The bike and I walked home with lots of injuries that morning. It was no longer shiny or new. I wonder if Scott has a full suspension bike now…

Men's Sufferage

2011-02-24T21:22:00.000-08:00

The call came as a relief. The time was 6:28 and Jonathan was calling to tell me he didn't sleep well and was running late. I hadn't slept great either. It was taking me longer to sort my climbing gear than I expected. There was a lot to remember. Ice tools, crampons, harness, boots, climbing helmet, skis, poles, ski boots, Jelly Belly's and water--to name a few. I packed it all neatly into the grocery-getter and embarked on another adventurous day.

I'm not sure how he talked me into it. Jonathan has a way of convincing me to do things that I wouldn't normally pick to do on my day off work. Suffering in the cold for hours while belaying him up rotten ice is never what I envision myself doing on a free day. Don't get me wrong, I ALWAYS enjoy the suffering. That's part of why I ride my bike everywhere. So, he talked me into it last night. I think he probably slipped me a roofie or something. I consented, potentially un-willfully, and we made our journey out to Cougar Crag, where we always go to suffer when the weather is questionable. After skiing a mile and a half and then slogging through deep snow and manzanita up an endless hill, we reached our destination. My feet felt like beams of frozen steel. My hands were getting the screaming barfies every 15 minutes or so and spindrift kept spraying me in the face. I had a blast.

My ride back to my house took a long time. The forty pounds of gear felt heavier than when I left. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, though.

Getting High and Robbing Trains

2011-02-23T19:10:00.000-08:00

Who needs skiing when you can ride your bike in the snow? This video, though, makes me want to fly.

After watching this today my thought was, "Well, I'd sure like to experience flying like that, but I don't really want the consequence of failing at that height and speed." And then it occurred to me that part of the thrill, part of the excitement with flying is that it is dangerous. There are consequences. I wonder what it is about human nature that makes us want to take risks? Any thoughts? Most people don't take risks because they know they might be able to get hurt. Most people don't like getting hurt. I don't like getting hurt. Lot's of people have dreamed of flying, though. People like wind rushing past their face and being high (you know what I mean!). I put together a little video of myself flying home from work today. The bandanna is to keep my lungs warm. Not for robbing trains. Enjoy.

Got Me Under Pressure

2011-02-22T21:45:00.000-08:00

I just spent the last hour on Sheldon Brown's site reading about bicycle tires. Well, part of the time I was watching videos about how to pick bike locks. Sheldon Brown had posted a video about how to get around a U-lock by just cutting through the wheel of the bike. This got me thinking about bike locks that I sell and how easy it might be to get through one, so I watched a bunch of lock-picking videos and can now probably pick any lock you put in front of me. Have no fear, though, I have way too many other hobbies already to add bicycle theft to the mix. Not to mention the moral dilemma that it may pose for me...

So I was sliding all over the place on my bike last week, even with studs on my tires. I knew that lowering my tire pressure would actually help with this problem because it would cause my tire to better take the shape of the surface that it was on, but I had never tried it. Really I've just been lazy about it. I mean, when I leave my house at 6:30 in the morning, I just want to jump on my bike and go. I don't want to have to worry about changing tire pressure or making sure my seat is straight or making sure my wheels are properly secured to my bicycle. I learned this week, more than once (unfortunately), that attending to these things at least once in awhile can increase my chances of staying on top of my bike. For example, when I was riding to Mother's to volunteer at our CSA, one of my trailer wheels fell off. Kind of a bummer on Reed Market with traffic zipping by at ridiculous speeds (you know, 30ish mph...). I parked my bike and trailer and went back and got my prodigal wheel. It was in the grass on the side of the road. I found out that the tire fell off because the skewer had somehow loosened up... alot. I tightened it down, traffic was still zipping by, and re-installed it on the grocery-getter. Not a problem. It could have been, though.

Another example of a time that I should have attended to my equipment happened last week when I fell on the ground when I was trying to turn into my driveway (there was ice involved). In this example, my rear wheel fell off. This is not a good sign. I'm not sure why it fell off, but I can tell you, that anytime your tire is loose enough to come off with a minimal impact crash, something much worse could have happened. It didn't, though, and that's good.

To tie this all in with bicycle tire pressure: I decided on Sunday, before I left for church that I would try lowering my tire pressure to improve traction. Sheldon Brown has a big long scientific summary of tires on his site if you're interested. My version is going to be much shorter. So, I lowered the pressure and rode to church. I didn't fall down on the treacherously icy roads. That's good. It really made a huge difference, though. I couldn't ride as fast (and maybe that's part of why I felt more stable), but I felt a much greater level of control. Now, confidence doesn't necessarily equal safety, but in this case I think there was certainly a safety improvement. I'll definitely take the time to lower tire pressure on snowy days now...and maybe I'll check and make sure my wheels are actually attached to my bike. We'll see.

A Friendly Reminder

2011-02-21T16:02:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have a fond memory of riding bikes, past or present, email it to me before Thursday night at midnight. Backporch coffee goes to the best story. Here are the official contest rules:

Now it's your turn. I want to hear your most wicked awesome cycling story. In 500 words or less, send me your favorite cycling story and you will have a chance to win one pound of Backporch Coffee. Any type of cycling adventure will do. Stories will be judged on creativity, writing style, flow, epic-ness and many other things that I haven't thought of yet (don't worry, I'll have Kalea read them, too. She's more fair than I am...in more ways than one). Send entries to sjstumbo@gmail.com. All entries must be received by Thursday, February 24th, no later than 11:59 p.m. One story will be selected and featured in a Daily Fix post. The author will receive roughly a weeks-supply of Backporch Coffee. Good luck to all!

Swirly Chaos

2011-02-19T18:49:00.000-08:00

I opened the blinds at 7:30 a.m. To my surprise there was four inches of fresh snow blanketing the several that was already accumulated from earlier in the week. New snow was swirling between our house and the neighbor's chaotically. Usually these conditions are exciting for me. I like the challenge of trying to stay upright when my tires are being squirrely underneath me. That challenge is not quite so appealing when you don't sleep well and your head is demonstrating symptoms of a cold. I did it anyway. The ride was the standard epic snow-ride and only one person called me an f-ing idiot. I consider that a pretty good ride. Here's a picture of my truck. Kalea picked me up from work... That's why I'm smiling. I'll rest and report back soon. Enjoy your weekend.

Ice Cream Bike or Hipster Killer?

2011-02-18T12:12:00.000-08:00

It's a funny juxtaposition--a disproportionately large delivery truck sharing an alley with a relatively small delivery bike. "This is my morning everyday," says Daniel Brewster as we pedal through a parking lot and into the alley. Brewster is owner and rider of Cascade Couriers, a bicycle delivery service in Bend, Oregon. "The trucks are clogging the alley and I can just ride around them." He makes his delivery of pastries to Lone Pine Coffee, likely one of the places where the delivery trucks delivered their products. The time is just shy of 7 a.m. and Daniel and I have been riding for almost an hour.

This is Daniel's delivery bike.

Compared to a large delivery truck, Daniel's delivery bike cannot carry very much--a few tubs of pastries and a couple dozen baguettes and him. Except for the extra large fiberglass delivery container on the front (Don't call it an ice-cream bike, by the way. Daniel hates it, when you call it an ice-cream bike), it's really just a normal bike. Though small in stature, the bike is a machine (no pun intended). It is capable of handling 200 pounds and Daniel says he has carried around 400 pounds, fully loaded with The Source Weekly, a local newspaper. It is surprisingly stable on snow and ice, though the small front wheel makes it difficult to maneuver in chunky snow conditions. One day this year with a light load, he even laid it down in a corner on some ice. The bike slid all the way into the other lane. On the bright side, it was early enough that traffic was really light still.

The lights are coming on.

Daniel orders a 16 ounce mocha at Thump Coffee. We have to wait for Sparrow Bakery to finish with some pastries, so that we can take those to Bread LaVoy. The break is welcome as my fingers are a little chilly in my Black Diamond fleece gloves. Daniel's mocha arrives graced with a beautifully poured Rosetta. "We are looking into getting a Sprinter van that runs off bio-diesel that we can use to expand our business to all of Central Oregon," he says. He sips his mocha. "It isn't practical for us to deliver by bike, exclusively." Cascade Couriers employs two other riders part-time and has been a presence in Central Oregon for several years. The company started with a composting service that picked up compost from households throughout Central Oregon. The compost was taken to Fields Farm, east of Bend--all by bicycle. Sometimes the trailers could be loaded with upwards of 500 pounds of compost. Though composting is no longer a part of Cascade Courier's service, the bike delivery service is as busy as ever. Along with bakery goods, they deliver legal documents, mail, produce from the farmer's market and they now even offer a lunch delivery service. Daniel finishes his mocha and we put our helmets and gloves back on. It's time to ride again.

Enough said.

Out in the cold once again, I ask him what his biggest pet peeve is. He says that when he's riding, he tries to keep a positive attitude. "I just try to give people room, because that's what I hope they will give me." We discuss the concept of people generally being more scared around us (cyclists) than we are around them. I fight for breath as we talk about our favorite interactions with motorists. He says people always cut close to him at the intersection of Colorado and Arizona. We arrive at Sparrow once again to pick up another load of pastries. We'll make a couple more stops before my time with Daniel ends. Though the temperature didn't climb above 25 degrees on our two and a half hour ride together, I was warm from riding and the excitement of taking new routes and meeting new people.

I rode home exhilarated. I was wide awake. It felt good to be out so early and in the company of someone with vision. As I was making my last turn into the driveway, my bike slipped out from under me on a patch of ice and I fell for the first time this winter (besides the other time, which was not snow related). The perfect end, to a good morning ride.

Win Some Coffee

2011-02-17T19:05:00.000-08:00

Hey You! Send me your favorite personal experience with cycling. Here are the contest rules and stuff:

Now it's your turn. I want to hear your most wicked awesome cycling story. In 500 words or less, send me your favorite cycling story and you will have a chance to win one pound of Backporch Coffee. Any type of cycling adventure will do. Stories will be judged on creativity, writing style, flow, epic-ness and many other things that I haven't thought of yet (don't worry, I'll have Kalea read them, too. She's more fair than I am...in more ways than one). Send entries to sjstumbo@gmail.com. All entries must be received by Thursday, February 24th, no later than 11:59 p.m. One story will be selected and featured in a Daily Fix post. The author will receive roughly a weeks-supply of Backporch Coffee. Good luck to all!

Everything Else Stays the Same, It's Me That's Changed

2011-02-17T18:17:00.000-08:00

The garage door closes behind me. I'm committed. There are three miles separating me from my place of work and it's just me and my faithful steed (maybe I'll name her one of these days). It used to be that my commute was only one mile. You can walk one mile pretty fast. If there was snow or ice in those days, I would just walk. Sometimes I'd put chains on my shoes called Yak Trax. Often I'd run. For weeks at a time my bicycles would sit lonely, in the garage.

This morning, the three miles separating me from work seem normal. My frozen breath hangs in the air as I fumble to buckle the strap on my helmet. I am standing in six inches of snow, firm and sun-baked. There is poetry in this ritual. The route never really changes. I do, though. What used to feel cold, is cold no longer. My face is used to the feeling of an icy breeze. My hands are well accustomed to numbness. So are my toes. Wet doesn't really bother me either. I always seem to dry out and warm up. When the temperature warms up, I'll trade my pants for shorts, I'll trade my beard for a close shave and I'll still ride. The walking thing isn't nearly as convenient when it takes an hour to get to work compared with the 9-12 minutes it takes on my bike.

When I pedaled off toward work this morning their was some snow and some cold. The bike lanes were mostly large snow-berms, some cars passed me at quite inopportune times. It sure did feel good to be out on my bike, though.

I Want Your Soul

2011-02-16T23:20:00.000-08:00

Now it's your turn. I want to hear your most wicked awesome cycling story. In 500 words or less, send me your favorite cycling story and you will have a chance to win one pound of Backporch Coffee. Any type of cycling adventure will do. Stories will be judged on creativity, writing style, flow, epic-ness and many other things that I haven't thought of yet (don't worry, I'll have Kalea read them, too. She's more fair than I am...in more ways than one). Send entries to sjstumbo@gmail.com. All entries must be received by Thursday, February 24th, no later than 11:59 p.m. One story will be selected and featured in a Daily Fix post. The author will receive roughly a weeks-supply of Backporch Coffee. Good luck to all!

CSA Day the Sequel: Riders on the Storm

2011-02-16T10:34:00.000-08:00


Hmm... It's pretty nice...I think I'll ride my bike today.

It was windy Sunday night before I crawled into bed at 11. The temperature was just a scosche above 40 degrees--not weather conducive to lots of snow (or so I thought). The weatherman said it was going to snow and I was admittedly disappointed that the weather was not cooperating with his prophecy. To my surprise as I awoke at 4am with a nagging bladder, our room was not dark as normal, but lit up with a soft, even light coming from our windows. Too tired to crack the blinds and check on the weather status, I fell back asleep for another hour. At five I got up to confirmed suspicions. It had snowed a little.

A little turned into a lot when I walked out to shovel the high-water-content snow. My conservative estimate is six inches at 5:30, but I think there was a bit more. The above photo was taken at 6:25 a.m. The pedal that is down is dragging in the snow.

I thought I would leave early to make it to work on time. At 6:30 I left, wearing dry jeans, wool socks, a fleece jacket and a windbreaker. I showed up to work at 7:05 wearing the same thing I was wearing when I left (you were hoping for something more racy, weren't you?) , only it was all soaked through like a used tissue. For a point of reference, it usually takes between 9 and 12 minutes to get to work. In my easiest gear I was pedaling as hard as I could just to keep my bike and trailer moving in the wet, heavy snow. The temperature was around 33 degrees and I was absolutely drenched in the first 5 minutes from exertion.

I pulled onto Brosterhous and rode in the tire track closest the fog line, which was easier to pedal in, but took all my focus to stay righted. This may be metaphorical: When you're riding in a rut, it is easy to stay in the rut, but if you try to exit the rut it is extremely difficult to keep your balance. It took all the mental faculties I had available to keep myself upright. It progressively got worse the closer I got to REI. At the intersection of 3rd and Reed Market, with piles of snow on my feet, I sat at the stoplight in the turn lane admiring the chaos of ruts that was plaguing the area. Some guy a couple cars back rolled down his window and yelled, "Way to go, man!" To which I replied with a smile, "hey..." The fact is, I was mentally preparing myself to eat organic material upon entering this minefield of snowy destruction. I was not a bit focused on the traffic that was fish-tailing all around me. It was me and my bike and my grocery-getter.

The light turned green and I waited for the expected three cars running the red light to slide on through the intersection. I pedaled and slid and pedaled and slid and stayed loose in my saddle, allowing my bike to skitter around beneath me as I kept my eyes focused on the road ahead. I made it through without going down. Relief was only for a moment, however, as I pounded up and over the Reed Market overpass. Reed Market is steep and notoriously rutted in the snow. Today was no different. I tried riding in the first rut, but I was getting tossed about like a leaf in the gale, so I chose the deep snow of the bike lane. This proved infinitely less taxing mentally and I rode the rest of the way to work safe-ish-ly.

I can safely say that this ride was "epic, man." It wins the worst-commuting-conditions-this-year award.