(Dis)Incongruity

That preparing to fail thing again...I left five minutes early Friday morning to take some pictures, but after I took two, the camera stopped due to dead batteries. Shucky-darn!



However, I was trying to capture one of those incongruities that cyclists face on a daily basis. One of mine occurs right at the start of my commute as I ride west on Bobier Drive towards the Melrose Sprinter Station. While you may be thinking the incongruity in this first photo is "why is the Mormon Church wasting a precious natural resource by watering the sidewalk?", that was not my intent. Actually, this picture is just to note the bike lane on Bobier in the city of Vista, which is oriented to also allow curbside parking.




However, when one leaves Vista and crosses into Oceanside, the bike lane changes...abruptly. I hate being faced with the existential dilemma so early in the morning of where to change bike lanes. Oceanside is a "Bicycle Friendly Community", which you can tell by the road construction that begins as soon as you enter the city. However, while their bike lanes don't allow parking, it would be nice if they eased a cyclist over rather than absurdly launching him into the auto-type lane.



My camera batteries died after that pic, so I reloaded during the day, and being too lazy to go back across the street on the way home, I took photos on the eastbound side. Here, you see the converse: one enters Vista, and again one must change lanes--abruptly. However, in this direction, rather than being dumped into a lane of moving cars, one is dumped into a lane of parked ones, which I find much easier to avoid. Plus, existential dilemmas are easier to deal with on the way home since the pre-ride brewed beverage is usually relaxing rather than stimulating.



Finally, looking back to the west from Vista to Oceanside, one sees the construction (they're replacing a perfectly good open space with a "sports park" which will better organize "fun") and a wave of eastbound traffic about to approach the discontinuous bike lane. Perhaps they should mention this on the "Welcome to Vista" sign. Fortunately, my bike is legally parked!

Back...in..the...Saddle

I did get back to cycle commuting, but I did so in a way that managed to go against most (if not all) of John Wooden's maxims. As I suggested previously, I started in with the short ride from home to the Sprinter station, and while that was a reasonable start, it was, to me, a tease. Thus, instead of planning my next step, I went with my desire to ride.

Failure to plan is planning to fail.

As one experienced in failure, I am thankful that one can learn from it. I sat watching the first stage of the Amgen Tour of California, and my hand felt good. I felt like I could take a leap and do more than just a baby step to the next level. The next day, a Monday, I put my trusty XO in the truck bed and drove off to Encinitas station. I have done the ride from Encinitas to UCSD so many times that it is a unit of measure to me, so despite not having ridden in months, I felt comfortable in this ride.

And it was great!

From the Coaster train, the coast route looks like this:



Except on the odd Friday, it might look like this:




But that Monday morning, I got to see those sights that I'd been missing. The train rolls on, but one of the beauties of cycling is that if you see something you like, you can stop and take it in. So, at the bottom of the Torrey Pines grade, I stopped to capture the beauty of an early Monday, low tide morning (I didn't capture the summit due to physiological limitations).



However, as a one time thing, I was ready for this, but not as a routine. This was Bike-to-Work week, ending Bike-to-Work Day, and my goal was to ride that celebrated Friday





And I accomplished that goal, but I'd pushed it without a plan. All those routines that go along with regular cycling I hadn't yet established. Soon, I found myself like the cranky child who needs a nap, and one morning, instead of making that day my masterpiece, I was lashing out at a perceived injustice. Though, I did discover that I could once again make obscene gestures with my surgically repaired left hand.

I took a few days off, and reformulated. John Wooden passed away, and while that is a sad loss, the attention that event gave to his life and his teachings was a benefit to me. It reminded me of precepts I'd been taught as a child and how they applied now. So, I'm doing my basic bike-train-train-bike commute, and doing so in a way to be quick to the next step, but not to hurry it. I'll get the camera to capture the details soon.

One of the people who inspires me to ride is Starla, and next week she's going to take off on an adventure over familiar ground to me, but she's going to do it with just one speed. My wish for her is that she'll have the right amount of Pop-Tarts when she needs `em! Follow along on her adventure here.

Commuter Prologue

I went for my first bike ride since my accident yesterday, and I realized right away that riding a bicycle is still a lot of fun!

Before setting out on the day's modest adventure, I felt I had to at least be able to perform a particular piece of bicycle maintenance--changing a tube--and after successfully performing that task, I felt comfortable enough to take on my first challenge--a ride to my train station. I live a little more than a mile from it, so that ride seemed an ideal way to start my return. If I punctured, well, it's not too much of a walk...

I've done this ride a zillion times, but usually with the imperative of having to catch a train looming over me, which gives the ride the feel of the individual time trial. Also, I usually do it early in the morning, which means the synapses aren't firing at full strength yet. Yesterday, however, I left home midday, fully aware, on a warm, sunny spring day, and in that atmosphere my return to cycling was nothing but enjoyable.

My destination was the Melrose Drive Station which is one of the NCTD's Sprinter train stops. I didn't pay exacting attention to my departure time from home, but I must have developed a certain timeliness because I made it to the station in time to comfortably catch a westbound Sprinter had I wanted to.



Here is ol' 4008 posing for a picture. Sprinter trains are inviting, unpretentious, and have a friendly feel (even if some of the passengers don't). The entrances are like an elevator's, so bikes, baby carriages, and wheelchairs roll right in with no fuss. Also, Sprinters have no competing traffic on the line, so their on-time performance is quite good.




See ya later, 4008!





While bikes are welcome on the Sprinter, I prefer to leave mine at the station in a bike locker. I have access to lockers at both ends of my commute, and they are of two different types. At Melrose, the NCTD has keyed lockers which are not shared. Locker #3 is mine because I was the third person to ask for one. I also think I am the last to ask for one at this station, since I haven't seen #4 used yet (actually, I've only seen another one--#2--used once).



Here's my bike in storage position. The lockers open on either end, and a diagonally placed sheet of wood separates the lockers. I suppose you could sleep in one, but hopefully it doesn't come to that. I like that this saves me having to bring a lock and remove a wheel to lock up securely. Also, sometimes my commute results in having to leave a bike in a locker for a couple of days which is safer than leaving a bike locked up outside. Drier, too.

Satisfied that I could ride to the station and secure my bike, I started my return home, but it was such a great day, I thought why not go for a little ride? I took a broader loop home, testing the performance of my left hand by making left turns in traffic. Since I don't set my bikes up like the Italians (as demonstrated here by Mario Cipollini), my left hand operates the front brake, and it feels little bit mushy. The tendons I severed are essentially repaired, but I also severed the Ulnar nerve, and that heals much more slowly. Hence, like early morning brain synapses, not all the hand muscles are getting the signals from my brain. This makes the ones that do get the signal have to do all the work and it fatigues them rapidly. While my legs feel great, my riding isn't limited by them but rather on my left handed squeezing stamina.

Still, it was fantastic to see the world from the saddle again and feel that unique feeling of freedom that cycling provides. I'm even looking forward to Monday morning when I'll resume my early morning diminished-capacity time trial to catch a train (don't worry, Mom; I'll leave a couple of minutes earlier).

It Starts With a Hand

This is intended to be a blog with a broad view of a narrow focus--bicycle commuting on the North San Diego County coast, but it all starts with a hand...



I've considered inflicting my thoughts about this on the web for some time, and now misfortune has given me the opportunity. The day before the Super Bowl, I had a (non-cycling) accident, of which I'll spare all of us the details, but the result was a severe laceration of my left wrist. Now, after surgery, numerous doctor visits, and about 25 occupational therapy sessions I am just about ready to get back on my bike and return to commuting on it.

However, until then, a bit about me and my commute. I've been a cycle commuter since 1985. Some periods more intensely than others, but about half the time since then I've lived without a car, so the idea of driving to work seems a little odd to me now. Until 2000, I rode to work every day, but then I moved up here to extreme North County, and so I started using the Coaster train to help cover the distance. Currently, my one way commute is 30 miles by bicycle, and at my best I make six of the ten one-way commutes by bike each week. The other commutes are a complex combination of bicycles, bike lockers, and trains.

However, at this moment, I drive to my Coaster station, ride the train, then take a shuttle bus--one I often passed on my bike--to my final destination. From the train, I see my commute and all the other cyclists, so my determination to return to the status of rider is constantly fueled. When I return, I'll have to start small, but the final goal is the 60-mile round trip...a couple of times a week.

The route I take is roughly an inverted L-shape, and base of the L is the hilly one-third from the home to the coast. The other two-thirds is along the coast on old highway 101, which I think of as "the show". The terrain is undemanding, but the road is busy with cars, pedestrians, tourists, girls in bikinis, surfers and their surfboards, and 50-something cyclists trying to live up to the pedigree of the bicycles that they're riding--all of which are a challenge to the cyclist who strives for efficiency.

However, on my commute I've seen a lot of great sights, met a lot of great people, had some great conversations (with others or just with myself), and gotten a really good feel for the area where I live and work. I can't wait to get back to riding it, and I look forward to sharing my observations and memories with you. Until then, I'll be stretching tendons, training nerves, and practicing puncture repair in preparation. Happy Trails!