May is National Bike Month. Who knew? (I didn’t until I went on the Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia’s Web site.) Over the past few weeks, various events took place around here to celebrate the freedom of two wheels, including the Ride of Silence I blogged about.
In the BCGP’s annual staged race on Wednesday, three people commuted by bike, bus and car to see who would get to “work” the fastest. At 8:00 a.m., a man on a bike, a woman in a convertible Zipcar and a woman riding a Route 48 bus raced from 29th and Poplar Streets to City Hall.
True to form, two wheels took the win. Pat Cunnane, president of Fuji Bicycles, was the bike rider. Cunnane had this to say when interviewed for KYW:
"Cycling in the city, especially during rush hour, is the fastest way to travel…You just really have to pay attention. You have to be looking at the people in the cars to see what they might do. A lot of people don't use turn signals. A lot of people don't pay attention."
The bike rider completed the 4-mile commute in 12 minutes and 21 seconds, with the Zipcar finishing one minute later. The woman stuck riding SEPTA turned up after a 10-minute gap.
I didn't need proof that riding in the city is fun and fast. I just need to do it more often.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
One day. One time. Worldwide.
On May 20, at 7:00 p.m., thousands of cyclists took part in a Ride of Silence across the globe. A little closer to home, hundreds gathered at Central Bucks West High School in Doylestown for the town's first annual police-escorted, 5-mile ride to honor cyclists who’ve been killed or injured in collisions with vehicles.
My brother and I rode from our house through town, taking the route of least elevation (he was on his SE Lager), and met Justin, Dan and Jason at the high school—where Jason was all too happy to show off his sparkling new kicks.
Before we took to the streets, the ride organizer read this poem from the top of the high school steps:
I plan on making the Ride of Silence an annual event and you should too. In the meantime, be safe out there, kids!
My brother and I rode from our house through town, taking the route of least elevation (he was on his SE Lager), and met Justin, Dan and Jason at the high school—where Jason was all too happy to show off his sparkling new kicks.
Before we took to the streets, the ride organizer read this poem from the top of the high school steps:
With heavy hearts we slowly pedaled in a silent procession through town, comforted by the safety of red and blue flashing lights. Some wore black or red armbands: Black to mourn cyclists killed or injured by motorists. Red to indicate you’d been in a bicycle/vehicle accident yourself.Tonight we number many but ride as one
In honor of those not with us, friends, mothers, fathers, sisters, sons
With helmets on tight and heads down low,
We ride in silence, cautious and slow
The wheels start spinning in the lead pack
But tonight we ride and no one attacks
The dark sunglasses cover our tears
Remembering those we held so dear
Tonight's ride is to make others aware
The road is there for all to share
To those not with us or by our side,
May God be your partner on your final ride.
I plan on making the Ride of Silence an annual event and you should too. In the meantime, be safe out there, kids!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Trailside Tales
The fun started an hour and a half away from the festival. We were cruising down a Virginia Interstate when I took notice of the passengers in the car next to us eyeing the RV—and Justin and me. A moment later they revealed a sign through the window: “Damascus, Trail Days.”
We were hammering down I-81 at a steady 70 mph and these guys were hitching a ride. Were they nuts? We’d soon find out.
Turns out David, a Scotsman, and Ryan, a Californian, were two thru-hikers who’d met on the AT and decided to hike together for a bit. Currently in Erwin, TN, they needed a ride south to this crazy festival they’d heard about. Well, what do you know? We were on our way to the same place. I asked how they knew, to which Ryan responded, “You had the look.” (I should note that picking up hitchhikers is completely out of the ordinary for me, but I wasn’t about to blow my chance at becoming a trail angel!)
As always, Trails Days proved to be all we hoped for and more. Happy hikers, beat-up bicycles and a mother load of moonshine made for a memorable weekend.
We even snuck in time to ride! Saturday morning’s spin brought us through a natural bridge and past a one-time bike shop.
At one point, Justin Lichter, also known as Trauma, was kind enough to go over Justin’s Great Divide maps—pointing out possible water sources, cheap hotels and restaurants along his race route. Tips such as, “It can’t rain forever!” and “It’s only a month long!” will stick with Justin as he pedals his way to Mexico, I’m sure.
We were hammering down I-81 at a steady 70 mph and these guys were hitching a ride. Were they nuts? We’d soon find out.
Turns out David, a Scotsman, and Ryan, a Californian, were two thru-hikers who’d met on the AT and decided to hike together for a bit. Currently in Erwin, TN, they needed a ride south to this crazy festival they’d heard about. Well, what do you know? We were on our way to the same place. I asked how they knew, to which Ryan responded, “You had the look.” (I should note that picking up hitchhikers is completely out of the ordinary for me, but I wasn’t about to blow my chance at becoming a trail angel!)
As always, Trails Days proved to be all we hoped for and more. Happy hikers, beat-up bicycles and a mother load of moonshine made for a memorable weekend.
We even snuck in time to ride! Saturday morning’s spin brought us through a natural bridge and past a one-time bike shop.
At one point, Justin Lichter, also known as Trauma, was kind enough to go over Justin’s Great Divide maps—pointing out possible water sources, cheap hotels and restaurants along his race route. Tips such as, “It can’t rain forever!” and “It’s only a month long!” will stick with Justin as he pedals his way to Mexico, I’m sure.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I Got It For My Momma
The bike Justin and I bought my mom (for Christmas) is finally in one piece. Not only that, it’s been ridden and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of the plush seat it’s sporting.
Yes, I know it’s well past Christmas, but I also know my mom wouldn’t have ridden her bike until now. (Plus, it would have taken up valuable space in our garage, which currently houses 13 other bikes!) Nevertheless, inspiration came in the form of warm weather and sunny skies.
On Sunday—Mother’s Day—we took my mom to Tinicum Park for a little disc golf—her idea! Then we rode to Frenchtown for a late lunch. She led the pace line there and back, exclaiming, “This is so much lighter than my Huffy!”
On our way back we stopped every 500 feet or so to document our journey. Her idea.
Yes, I know it’s well past Christmas, but I also know my mom wouldn’t have ridden her bike until now. (Plus, it would have taken up valuable space in our garage, which currently houses 13 other bikes!) Nevertheless, inspiration came in the form of warm weather and sunny skies.
On Sunday—Mother’s Day—we took my mom to Tinicum Park for a little disc golf—her idea! Then we rode to Frenchtown for a late lunch. She led the pace line there and back, exclaiming, “This is so much lighter than my Huffy!”
On our way back we stopped every 500 feet or so to document our journey. Her idea.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Turnin’ Laps @ Lodi
They say third time’s the charm. This weekend marked my third year riding at 12 hours of Lodi Farm, and the first time I finished well. It could’ve been because I joined a team, inspiring me to make a good first impression.
Or, it could’ve been because we raced from noon to midnight, instead of the typical midnight to noon setup. Truthfully, I think it was the first year I was conscious of the course—an incestuous 10-mile tight, rolling, rooty single track loop, with a seemingly bottomless stream crossing to boot!
I could even chalk it up to the forecast. With the looming possibility of rain, I tried to turn as many laps as I could before the monsoon hit. And it hit—ten minutes into my 5th lap. I rolled across the finish line around 8:00 sopping wet, head to toe in mud.
With four hours left in the race, trail conditions deteriorating and rain holding steady, I called it quits, dried off and ate some dinner. I guess all the other ladies had the same idea. I took 2nd place in the women’s solo category and completed the same amount of laps as the woman in 1st place. (Yes, I knew how close the race was—but being dry and full is highly underrated.) After an early morning awards ceremony, as in 1:30 a.m., it was finally time to sleep.
In between working the Princeton Tec booth, Justin and Ryan raced men’s duo and took turns riding with me each lap. Their conversation and steady pace was a welcome distraction to my throbbing wrists and sore seat bones! It turns out that fifty miles of mountain biking on a fun course with great company is a perfect way to spend the weekend.
Gatorade, oatmeal cream pies and a little Luda’ kept us alive on the drive back to PA in the rolling Red Roof Inn.
Or, it could’ve been because we raced from noon to midnight, instead of the typical midnight to noon setup. Truthfully, I think it was the first year I was conscious of the course—an incestuous 10-mile tight, rolling, rooty single track loop, with a seemingly bottomless stream crossing to boot!
I could even chalk it up to the forecast. With the looming possibility of rain, I tried to turn as many laps as I could before the monsoon hit. And it hit—ten minutes into my 5th lap. I rolled across the finish line around 8:00 sopping wet, head to toe in mud.
With four hours left in the race, trail conditions deteriorating and rain holding steady, I called it quits, dried off and ate some dinner. I guess all the other ladies had the same idea. I took 2nd place in the women’s solo category and completed the same amount of laps as the woman in 1st place. (Yes, I knew how close the race was—but being dry and full is highly underrated.) After an early morning awards ceremony, as in 1:30 a.m., it was finally time to sleep.
In between working the Princeton Tec booth, Justin and Ryan raced men’s duo and took turns riding with me each lap. Their conversation and steady pace was a welcome distraction to my throbbing wrists and sore seat bones! It turns out that fifty miles of mountain biking on a fun course with great company is a perfect way to spend the weekend.
Gatorade, oatmeal cream pies and a little Luda’ kept us alive on the drive back to PA in the rolling Red Roof Inn.
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