Happy Halloween/Bike Safety Awareness Week

I just need to begin this post with the following statement: 

Please be nice to the the selfless nurse who helped treat Ebola patients - Kari Hickox. Because she isn't a heavyset male racist in a cowboy hat, Ms. Hickox is not being hailed as a hero for not doing what the government tells her to do. Symptom free, she chose to go on a bike ride with her boyfriend. I have ridden in Maine and I can attest to the drawing power of biking in Vacationland, so whether you open doorknobs with Kleenex's or not, don't judge her harshly. 

And Ms. Hickox, if you're reading this, you're welcome to come bike down in The Nutmeg State with me anytime. And not to worry: if Governor LePage insists on following you here while wagging a finger, I have a bike here he can use, too: he did say he doesn't want you 'within three feet of anybody' so with that in mind I'd be happy with either of you doing a PSA for Connecticut to tell drivers they have to obey the 'three foot law' when passing a cyclist. Hey, you can even do a PSA together - whether he wants to wear a Walter White respirator is up to him. 

But I digress.

While Kari Hickox was taking what was probably the safest bike ride anyone could take this week (Police escort? Sweet!) I've been thinking about what to do to remind cyclists to double down on staying safe while riding at night. The rule of thumb is: when you're absolutely, 100% positive you and your bike are visible enough...add.

And there's a lot you can add:  You can add BikeGlow (spaghetti-like strands of lights that are shown in the last photo). You can buy reflective tape just about anywhere and affix it to your bike or your helmet and also get yourself to a bike shop and get some new equipment (if you're in Stamford: Danny's Cycles and Pacific Swim Bike Run are great places to go. Remember, Daylight Savings Time starts this weekend and that means most workers will be biking home in darkness at the end of the workday). 

Let's quickly run through a couple of options. When it comes to a great example of adding things to make biking safer, I haven't seen anything better than Blaze. They're a company in London I was lucky enough to visit a few months back to check out their product. 

To the everyday observer, an ordinary bike light. But they designed and added a tiny laser mounted next to the lens that projects an image of a bicycle several feet out in front. 

Truckers and drivers can see it on the ground and know there is a cyclist coming - and that's especially important if you want to avoid the 'right hook' which is a 'left hook' in Britain since they still insist on driving on the wrong side. You can see a demo video on the Blaze web site, but in an office in broad daylight it's equally cool.

I know it is sold in the U.S. but I haven't been able to find it in Stamford, but it will be going on my Christmas list this year, to be sure. 

While we're on the subject of lasers: I bought a laser guide for a circular saw at Harbor Freight Tools for $5. It's about twice as thick as a pen but half the length and when switched on points a red line along whatever piece of plywood you want to cut. 

I rarely cut plywood. But I do bike often, and I discovered that a slight modification on the base of the laser guide made it easy to mount on the seat stay of my city bike. Here's what it looks like.

Oops. I left the flash on (but related to the subject you can see the subtle reflective tape I've put in several placed around the bike isn't so subtle when the light is hitting it). 

Here's what it looks like in the dark:

Even though I need to change up the mount since my foot can hit it when getting off the bike, it works: I rode to the Stamford Government Center and back at night and was thankful for the visual reminder for motorists that they - by Connecticut state law - have to leave three feet of space between themselves and bicyclists when passing. 

If you don't have access to the Blaze or circular saw guides, visit your local bike shop, say you want to add things to your bike to ride safer, and they'll hook you up with what you need. Post your tricked-out, visible self and your bike on Twitter with the hashtag #diybikingatnight. And since I have to go pick up some candy before the Elsa, Anna and lil' snowman dude parade starts tonight, I'll close this post right now. Thanks for reading and thanks for riding. 

Biking Nations: Paraty, Brazil: Part II

(Didn't read Part I? Click here)

The first full day of biking in Paraty, Brazil - home of the 2014 Urban Sketching Symposium - began the way these things begin: my wife and I ate breakfast before I walked her to her first workshop.

That meant stepping, Indiana-Jones-through-the-temple-to-get-the-golden-idol-like, among the swollen cobblestones.

Upon return to our room, I grabbed my bike, put on my backpack and hit the door. I had already made the decision to go north toward Sao Paolo and hit Trindade - a beach destination that was recommended to me. 

Five minutes after setting off, it rained for ten solid minutes. Water soaked into my clothes and into my pack - and the rear tire of the Bike Friday spat a steady stream water at my backside like a malfunctioning bidet. 

I'd like to say it didn't dampen my spirits, but it did.  Especially since the road I was on was, for lack of a better term, boring. I appreciated the wide shoulder and enjoyed the quiet but some stretches felt like roads in southern New Hampshire. 

It was also mostly devoid of people. A few cars and motorcycles passed but no pedestrians - save for an old man with a long beard and tattered clothing sitting alone at a bus stop near an equally tattered bike rigged to haul a trailer made from an old baby carriage. I looked his way and gave a smile and a wave, but he didn't return my gesture.

Several miles after passing the old man by, I came to the something that was worth taking a picture of.

Okay. I don't see that in southern New Hampshire. Or Stamford. Keep it up, Brazil.

Not long after this I came to the turnoff for Trinidade. An arrow pointed left and said '500 m' so I knew it wasn't far. 

However.

I remember, back when I changed the three-ring chainring on the Bike Friday just before meeting Stacey I wondered if I'd eventually regret giving up the little ring. 

That day, I did. 

It was a killer ascent. Much harder than the 1,000 feet I climbed in Virginia on the Dahon Matrix. Motor vehicles rarely went by and I saw no cyclists. I had to stop often, and when I was pedaling I was struggling to do much more than walking speed. 

When the hill began to crest I was greeted with a crude, covered bus stop and a sign at a fork in the road indicating Trinidade was 5k to the right. Trinidade was all downhill, but I decided to go left - and thus continue climbing - just to see if this exhausting trek would give me a nice vista from which I could take pictures. Unfortunately, a few moments into that adventure, I heard thunder and saw dark clouds closing it. I barreled back to the bus shelter but was too late: the sky opened up and I was soaked again. 

Five minutes later...

Thanks a lot, sun. Thanks for heating and warming the earth like we agreed.

After I removed my jersey to wring it out and put it back on again, I decided to just go to Trinidade - which meant the 1,000 or so feet I had just climbed was going to be another 1,000 feet to climb on the way back - because the descent to Trinidade was steep. Because of the narrow road and the blind corners I rode the brakes almost the whole way.

But I did make it a beach. Instead of finding Brazilian beauties on the beach willing to cater to my every whim (which, at the point, consisted of handing me a large towel, replacing my brake cables and cleaning off my bike) I found no one - and remembered that August in this part of the world was the official 'off' season.

After a sandwich ordered through a language barrier at the Bar Do Cepilo, I continued on toward Trinidade (carrying my bike over the 'slippery river') and for the third time, it rained. This time it was so cold my teeth were chattering. Lucky for me, I found the town a few minutes later - and the rain began to let up. 

I passed a lot of empty and closed shops and restaurants - it really did feel like the off-season. On the way through town I came across a dog sitting on a stool - and after I pedaled around for a little while and returned, the dog was still sitting there so I took a picture.

Still soaking wet I made one last ride through town before heading back. But since I wanted to procrastinate making that awful climb again, I turned right instead of left at the 'slippery river' and saw where Paraty must get the boulders it uses to pave the streets.

It really was beautiful - and of course I wished for better weather. But on a cycling vacation you ride with the weather you have and you improvise to make it more comfortable: on the climb, I noticed small bits of a car bumper on the side of the road and used one to make a fender for the Bike Friday.

It managed to cut the 'malfunctioning bidet' effect of the rear wheel - and I was glad to have it. 

But for the rest of the ride I didn't need it much because the rain had stopped and the roads were finally drying up. After another thigh-burning climb and a brake pad-melting descent, I had open road all the way back to Paraty. Since I wasn't blinking to avoid getting rain in my eyes, I was able to see things on the way back I didn't notice on the way up - like Jesus at a garden center. 

Even though more than three hours had passed since that morning, the old man with the beard and the bike was still sitting silently at the bus stop. Again, he didn't look up at me. Since I was on the same side of the street as he this time I noticed his bike's chain was broken - which made me wish I spoke the local language and brought more tools with me.

Months later, I still wish I had stopped to try to help him anyway. 

I returned to town, bought a piece of lemon pie at a shop (lots of pointing was involved) and again admired how the town moved. 

I returned to the room and later reunited with my wife who showed me some of her Paraty sketches. Like me, she was affected by the rain, but like me, we were both hoping for better weather the next day - and looking at the bright side because I didn't get a flat tire. I was sure that would change because I was determined to go west and to the mountain. 

To be continued. 

Final Frame/The Donut Lover's Guide to Bicycle Commuting Returns

August 22, 2010: the first photo I took of my (then) new 19" aluminum bike frame.

Several years ago, I built my own mountain bike. I used a plain black aluminum hard tail frame I bought online. 

That bike went on a lot of adventures - The Kingdom Trails in Vermont were especially grand - and I went over the handlebars a few times. Still, I didn't have that frame in place very long - for I eventually switched over to a full suspension frame and the black frame was turned into a single speed.

My workshop is like The Giving Tree in reverse. 

But that frame wasn't in place very long either, for I raided that bike for parts for other projects, and the frame was eventually stripped completely - and looks like this today. 

That frame made me the person I am today, for building a mountain bike - or building any bike for the first time - was just a great experience for me and unlocked something in my creativity. The photo of the down tube was even the logo of this site for a couple years. 

However, I need more space in my shop and, still unable to weld aluminum, that frame just had to go. So when I put together a box of pedals, seats, cranks, tires and other things to donate to the Bridgeport Bike Co-Op, that frame was added to the pile. 

I'm not very sentimental about physical objects - if I did I'd become a hoarder - but I suddenly, today, realized that the black frame with the red and silver DIYBIKING.COM letters (hand placed, like on every bike I have) missed out on a lot. My recumbent. The Dahon Matrix. The Mystery from South Norwalk. My Bike Friday New World Tourist. The Bikeducken. And, most recently, my city bike. They've all experienced the city of Stamford and the wonder of travel more than the Founding Frame, and I felt like the black frame needed a final journey - like the tribute show Ed Sullivan never got. 

I never even brought it to Lorca, so today I decided to do just that. On foot.

Moments after entering, I learned that the rumors were true: Lorca is creating its own apple cider donuts in-house, and will be doing so at least through November. The black frame and The Donut Lover's Guide to Bicycle Commuting: both are roots of this web site, and both were coming back into the spotlight. 

Also, I'm not sure if you follow me on Twitter or not, but as you probably guessed from my reaction to Tim Cook's presentation this week: the only 'apple' product that interests me is followed by the words: 'cider donut.'*

I was also thinking about buying a Samsung Galaxy Tab S and taping $100 to the back instead of buying a new iPad but that's neither here nor there. 

I bought four donuts and walked down Bedford Street carrying the frame and the bag of donuts in the same hand. I wasn't sorry I was giving the frame up, but rather hopeful: it's a great frame, it got to go to an outstanding coffee shop - and I'm sure someone will soon turn it into their own bike.

Because I don't have a bike trailer big enough to carry everything safely,**, I was forced to bring my car to Bridgeport. I still used my homemade bike trailer as a hand truck to drag the parts to BPT Creates. 

                      Oct. 17, 2014: the last photo I've taken of the Black Frame.

I dropped everything off inside, and it wasn't until I was dragging the empty trailer back to where I had parked my car that I realized I had taken the last photograph of my black frame. Great memories, and I think I'm honoring the frame the right way by allowing someone else to get the same joy I had when building a bike. 

If you live in the Bridgeport area and want to donate some used bikes or bike parts to the Bikeport Co-Op, please let them know at bikeportct@gmail.com. Also: they are doing their monthly Big Bike Ride tomorrow at 1:00pm (starts at McLevy Green) so check it out. 

Also: go to Lorca and have some of their apple cider donuts. I have no experience with the latter product but Leyla (the owner of Lorca) is to baked goods what Walter White is to meth. Thanks for reading and thanks for riding.

*and pie.

**I will remedy that problem. 

Biking Nations: Paraty, Brazil, Part I

For the fourth summer in a row, I got to ride in a new country thanks to my wife's appreciation for the Urban Sketching Symposium. It's a great experience for us both as she gets to take workshops and sketch an exotic and interesting city while I ride. At the end of the day, we share our adventures - often over dinner with some old and new friends. For instance: simply approaching a woman sitting alone with a sketchbook at a restaurant in Rio allowed my wife and I to meet Rita Sabler of Portland, Oregon. 

The symposium attracts artists from all over the world, and a surprising number of people don't tag along with the artist they partnered with. Hopefully, that will change. Yes, non-sketchers: you'll have to listen to conversations about pens, ink and (gasp!) diminishing paper quality but trust me: it's well worth it as long as USK organizers pick interesting cities. And they have a good track record. Three years ago, the USK was in Lisbon, Portugal. The year after that, Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. Last year, Barcelona, Spain. This year: Paraty, Brazil.

These USK trips, from my perspective, share several common characteristics: Flat tires, a bad area map not drawn to scale, a language barrier, and of course, cobblestones.

Cobblestones…why did it have to be…cobblestones.

I thought my experience with the flathead screws of terrain would prepare me for Paraty. However, no amount of experience with cobblestones prepared me - or would prepare any seasoned cyclist - for the horror I saw on arrival. 

There's a fine line between 'cobblestone' and 'boulder' and Paraty, Brazil is sitting several miles into the 'boulder' territory. This is where cobblestones have been fed a diet of deep fried Twinkies and Chili's appetizers for generations. Either that or Paraty is where cobblestones go when they want to spend a semester abroad.

My wife tried to comfort me by explaining the town center of Paraty -  which is where Cobblestones 2.0 were located - doesn't allow cars. I was sure it was because one too many Kias had fallen sideways between the stones and gotten wedged. Aron Ralston - who continued mountain climbing after his self-amputation after having his arm pinned by a massive chockstone - would probably take one look at old town Paraty and turn back saying "Whoa, no way! This place gives me the willies."

If roads paved with rocks larger than some of Jupiter's moons wasn't enough: the town floods at least once a month. 

On purpose. 

Paraty is just about at sea level in the first place, and the high tide comes in through special openings that were put there so six to ten inches of seawater can get in. During these periods, a new level of difficulty in getting around town is introduced. 

When the tide recedes, it apparently takes with it all of the people who fell between the mutant cobblestones and became trapped - as well as act as a crude cleaning system for the streets. 

Sketchers were advised to bring hiking boots. They should have each brought a moon buggy (I found out at the end of my first full day of riding that several sketchers, including my wife, had to flee the rising floodwaters. I only wish an artist had immortalized the scene in a watercolor). 

As unwelcome as the center of town looks, I have to say that paradoxically, Paraty is a biking city. Like Delhi, India, in the center of town I saw heavy, big wheeled bikes.

Next time, I thought, I'll bring a suitcase full of Cane Creek Thudbuster seatposts and make a fortune selling them. 

When you get to the main thoroughfare, you'll find a huge number of men and women biking as well as three bike shops not more than three-fourths of a mile from each other. That's always a comfort for any bike traveler. After all, even if you don't speak the language, there are shapes that don't need any translation.

Paraty Tours - the same company my wife and I used to take the five hour van ride from Rio to Paraty - offers rental bikes and tours. I had no need for a rental bike since I had my Bike Friday New World Tourist but I borrowed their tour maps - where I saw something most unsettling.

I'm used to maps not being made to scale, but the fact that the designer selected a full-suspension mountain bike with knobby tires to represent bicycle made me worry for my skinny, 115 psi road tires.

If you pile mistakes on top of each other, give 'em a polish and photograph them in just the right light, you get wisdom. Everything that went wrong on previous adventures fed into this trip: I brought no fewer than four tubes. Thanks to the embarrassment at Barcelona, I made sure to buy new patch kits days before the trip. And just due to general annoyance: I brought along the frame pump that came with the 'Make Offer' bike I bought in New Hampshire (that has since been built into a city bike) to make inflating the tires less difficult in the first place. I hoped I only needed one hand to count the number of flats I was sure to get here.  

For this trip, we stayed at Pousada Pontal Gardens, a lovely bed and breakfast not far from where the picture above was taken. See the bike path on the far right? That was exactly where I tested out the New World Tourist to make sure it had survived the flight from New York okay. 

I wasn't even ready to start my first full day of biking and I was already grinning: Brazil was now on my list of places I've biked (and it was a new continent for me, too). 

As you can see, the bike path stretches along the waterway and points toward a mountain in the distance. You can see it there making out rather aggressively with the cloud. 

After only going a few miles, I was confident I was going to have fun here. I had three days, and as there were only three roads out of town I decided to explore each one. While my wife (who has posted her sketches on her blog, SUMACM.COM) and the other USK sketchers were going to sketch the center of town, I was going to pick a road and put as many miles between me and those mutant cobblestones as possible. 

(Click here for Part II).

The Mill River Greenway Ride: Two Final Words

As regular readers know, the Mill River Greenway Ride & Rally, which was presented by People Friendly Stamford, was this past Saturday. Possibly related to my involvement in planning this, Mother Nature went for the whip and Connecticut forgot the safe word.

Actually, the rain could have been a lot worse, but a lot of us showed up and some even did the (rain cancelled) ride from Scalzi Park to Kosciuszko Park anyway. As you can see from the great photographs taken of the event by Bob Luckey at the Stamford Advocate, my head stayed warm and dry thanks to the hotel shower cap I stretched over my helmet - which is THE fashion accessory for fall. 

Mayor David Martin was there and gave a nice address - which was easily heard in the crowded pavilion thanks to SpeakerBike. I'm thankful Renee Chmiel from News 12 came as well - you can check out her excellent coverage of the rally; taken with a news camera covered in a black trash bag to keep out the rain.

I'm also thankful for the band, Institute of Rock, for making the rain go away while they played under the pavilion at Kosciuszko Park. Actually, they may not have made the rain go away, but it felt like they did.  

I'm also thankful for the food trucks that were at the event: the Meltmobile ("To the Meltmobile!") sold me some pretty extraordinary tomato soup. I'm also thankful to one of the co-founders of Bike Stamford who fed me the soup one spoonful at a time while I fixed her flat tire. I'm equally thankful for the tacos I bought at Taco Loco/Crazy Taco Mex. 

I would write more about this great event, which I was very thankful to take part in, but I am suffering badly from jet lag (more on why later) which kicked in at 7:25pm on Saturday. I know the exact minute because that was the time I tweeted that "Bicyclists braved the rain" were the "best five words ever" (referring to Renee Chmiel's News 12 story) and I didn't notice those were only four words until the following day. 

But for now and going forward: if you are a cyclist from Stamford, please thank anyone and everyone who supports cycling in our city.  If you need a place to start, I suggest the sponsors of the rally, for the money, time or both they gave to this event was what made it a successful one. Thanks for reading and thanks for riding - especially if you live and work in Stamford.

Mill River Greenway Ride & Rally Tomorrow

Before I begin, I must give thanks to the Stamford Advocate and reporter Elizabeth Kim for the front page story on cycling activism in Stamford. Please head to your newsstand while there is still time and buy a copy. 

Additionally, I must thank photographer Lindsay Perry (who I met last year during the Cycling with Candidates project) even though she, along with the paper's editors, ignored my warning of a decline in circulation and included a photograph of me in the story. In spite of that, if you do not subscribe to the Stamford Advocate, buy today's paper. Well worth the $1. 

Now: let's move on to tomorrow: the Mill River Bike Ride & Rally.

Pacific Swim Bike Run, located at 575 Pacific Street, is among the great businesses in Stamford that are sponsoring this event and will be found at Kosciuszko Park tomorrow.  

After looking at the weather forecast for Stamford - and thinking about the wet but ultimately successful Bike to Work Day 2014 - I decided I might move to California and plan a variety of bike-related events all over the state in order to end the drought. 

Even though the weather in Connecticut is officially 'iffy' on yet another outdoor bike event I am involved with, the three-mile ride from Scalzi Park to Kosciuszko Park is still, as of this moment, on. But if you can't ride safely in rain or wet weather safely just head to Kosciuszko Park (200 Elmcroft Road) and pick up the event by 11:00 at the pavilion.  

And it goes without saying: if you have a bike and can ride it safely, bring a helmet and wear it properly.

Let's hope the weather gods smile upon us all tomorrow - and stretch a hotel shower cap over your helmet if you must. I'll be bringing a few just in case. Hope you come to the event to support the Mill River Greenway and a more bike friendly Stamford. Thanks for reading and thanks for riding. 

Need Help Launching Town Hall Meeting Curmudgeon 2.0

(Please attend the Stamford Master Plan Meeting on Tuesday, October 7th at the government center - 888 Washington Boulevard - at 6:00pm). 

I've been to a lot of town meetings - including the Merritt Parkway Trail meetings of Westport, Stamford, and, most recently, Greenwich. 

It was at the Greenwich meeting a couple of weeks ago I recognized a familiar sight: Town Hall Meeting Curmudgeon 1.0. 

No matter what town or city you live in, you know who I am talking about. Town Hall Meeting Curmudgeon 1.0 can't say anything without first relating the number of decades they've lived in the place they live in. They wag their index finger like it's a bodily function. They ignore facts that don't support their own assertions and use fear as a kind of constructive Play-Doh to build their own reality. If Town Hall Meeting Curmudgeon 1.0 hears anything he or she doesn't like, THMC1.0 will sit and cross their arms like a sulking child.

Sometimes this will be preceded by a brief, talk-to-the-hand gesture directed toward the person they want to tune out. 

This was on full display at the Greenwich Merritt Parkway Trail meeting. Now as you know I have no love for that project but I have to take issue with a couple of THMC1.0's at the meeting who insisted the trail supporters from out-of-town who were attending shouldn't be speaking because, well, they don't live in Greenwich. Of course, at least one non-Greenwich resident that I know of spoke out against the trail and yet that person wasn't scorned or rudely interrupted (and state and federal tax dollars are everyone's business no matter where the money is spent). 

After having a finger wagged in my direction at the Greenwich meeting for committing the non-pardonable act of riding a folding bike there and talking about it, I decided that I've had enough of THMC1.0. It is an antiquated piece of equipment that inspired the creation of the town leaders from 'Footloose.' It is time to build an alternative, and I need everyone's help to do it. 

To be clear I'm not suggesting THMC1.0 should go away. Their voices count just as much as anyone else's. But it is time for cyclists in Stamford (and everywhere else, for that matter) to launch Town Hall Meeting Curmudgeon 2.0.  

If I made it an app, I'm sure I could get funding.

Here are some of my proposed specifications of Town Hall Meeting Curmudgeon 2.0:

• They put down Candy Crush and Zimbio quizzes to attend town hall meetings in the first place. 

• They post about upcoming town hall meetings on social media and tell everyone and anyone they are attending.

• They raise their hands at town and city meetings to speak up. And when they introduce themselves they often say how many weeks or months they've lived in town - and how many years they want to stay in town. 

• They talk about how they want their town or city to look in the years to come instead of being nostalgic about the way the town or city they live in used to be. 

• They have a firm command of the facts - but know how not to use them in a patronizing way. 

• They talk about economic benefits of important improvement projects like bike lanes and bike parking - and also gently remind everyone that cyclists don't drop out of the sky but instead give out car parking spaces as gifts.

• They respect the opinions and voices of others and don't ever get personal or patronize those making dissimilar arguments.

• THMC2.0 takes many forms: a young apartment dwelling woman who frequently loses track of how many roommates she has. A frustrated commuter who has his or her folding bike at their side. A cool mom with two well-behaved kids seated next to her. A dad with two well-behaved kids seated next to him. A new voter. An intern. A person born after 'The Goonies' was in theaters. High heels. Sneakers. Dress shoes. Only the T-1000 can take as many forms as THMC2.0. 

The most important distinction of THMC2.0: They outnumber everyone else and they are the ones most remembered when the meeting adjourns. 

So Stamford, with its patchwork of bike lanes and little in the way of infrastructure, has a Master Plan meeting on Tuesday, October 7th. This is where we turn things around. This is the Adlai Stevenson at the UN during the Cuban Missile Crisis Moment. But like the robotic lions in Voltron, we must all join together to become a powerful force. 

Are you too young or too old to understand that reference? Substitute 'Voltron' with 'Constructicons.' What about now? Still don't get it? Good. You're the one I want at the meeting. Wait. You're forty and wearing a 'Voltron' T-shirt? I want you at the meeting too. 

Seriously: you need to bring a crowd to influence one. If THMC2.0 outnumbers (and outclasses) THMC1.0, it is THMC2.0 that will be remembered - especially when zoning boards, planning boards, and town representatives sit down to talk afterwards. 

Please attend the Stamford Master Plan meeting on Tuesday, October 7th at 6:00pm and form THMC2.0. And, a few short days later, go to the Mill River Greenway rally. After all, cities are built by the people who show up. Thanks for reading and thanks, more than ever, for riding.