tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41212711797337926842024-03-05T03:24:25.833-08:00The San Diego BikeistAn enthusiast's decidedly unpretentious, San Diego-centric, views, thoughts, experiences, and opinions on bikes, biking and those who ride. Powered by Blogger every Thursday.The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-45808434084550978722015-09-23T23:24:00.001-07:002015-09-24T09:09:39.510-07:00SabbaticalGreetings Bikeist afficionados! As threatened, I am am hereby re-emerging post autumnal equinox. So, where have I been all summer? Well, besides biking my butt off, I have been doing what I'm told us creative types are supposed to do each summer -- nothing. As a full-fledged member of the writing community, I have exercised my right to take several months off from entertaining my hordes of loyal followers. This, supposedly, serves two purposes:<div><br></div><div> (1) It makes you, my faithful denizens, even hungrier to consume the bike-centric nourishment I provide you with on a weekly basis; and </div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div>(<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">2) It recharges my creative energies and juices, enabling me to spew forth bike wisdom as never before imagined or witnessed on the interwebs --</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Truthfully, though, what this has really been about is Mr. Google's failure to recognize the fabulosity of this blog by raining down dollars on yours truly. Seriously, people! I've given you the never-ending bikeography, bike-stabbings galore, and the single greatest thing that has ever happened right here on this very blog! What more is it gonna take? Do I need to just start making stuff up? This blog doesn't just write itself (most of the time) -- we need to start working some notion of remuneration into this equation. </span></div><div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I guess I could start issuing this blog on a subscription basis in hopes, a la the New York Times, that I could monetize exclusivity. Somehow, though, I'm not confident that I can turn much of a profit that way, even if all twelve of my loyal readers were to subscribe. There must be a better way. I've read about guest-blogging, back-linking, etc., as ways to perpetuate a blog, but it all sounds like so much work -- and I get enough of that at, umm, well, work. I enjoy writing/blogging because it doesn't feel like work. As a bonafide creative type with no notion of how to turn thoughts into dollars, I need a cold-blooded, single-minded, money-hungry agent/manager to handle the business side of this venture, so I can keep my focus upon continuing to pump out brilliant product. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So, are you a one-dimensional, avaricious, uncreative, tech-savvy sloth interested in parlaying the output of a creative genius into untold profits? If so, do I ever have a position for you! Apply simply by commenting to this very post. If not, you surely must know an asshole who is qualified to take on this lofty position. Forward a link to my blog to anybody you think may have the lack of scruples required to turn a brilliant, anonymous, blogger who has been toiling in obscurity into a money-making machine. I am ready to be sold like laundry detergent, feminine hygiene, or erectile dysfunction products. Like espresso drinks pre-1990, I have something completely addictive that people develop an insatiable craving for after a single serving. The Bikeist is the crack cocaine of biking blogs -- just get it out on the street and stand back as it tears apart the fabric of the "cycling" community. That has to be worth something, right?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Anyway, untold riches or not, I'm back. I have all kinds of bike adventures and gripes to share with you after an incredible summer in the saddle. Let's just see what happens if we can manage to inject the profit motive into my creative process in some way. I just don't think I have it in me to be one of those artists whose prolific output is discovered post-humously and converted into millions. I want instant gratification, adulation, and remuneration! Is that asking too much? I think not . . . </span></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-7577718498470808062015-08-29T23:23:00.001-07:002015-08-29T23:23:02.183-07:00Bikeist In ResidenceThe Bikeist is on Summer Sabbatical. Why? Because he is told that this is what creative types are supposed to do. Rest-assured, he will be back, post-equinox, with a full array of new material --<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXXUb1AByqKaRDI-h4FnifM1riBhoI-wDuISo3P6PudVwfyt9dJg-vMj1xT2Lg4Blfwd1rckJs3WJnV2Qs5EzQBT5BGX9NfrdSNOU5Sok-dZ7hjC6RxIsxW3pqEIFJcsxxa8Ds8Gb_Cz_/s640/blogger-image--1886203486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXXUb1AByqKaRDI-h4FnifM1riBhoI-wDuISo3P6PudVwfyt9dJg-vMj1xT2Lg4Blfwd1rckJs3WJnV2Qs5EzQBT5BGX9NfrdSNOU5Sok-dZ7hjC6RxIsxW3pqEIFJcsxxa8Ds8Gb_Cz_/s640/blogger-image--1886203486.jpg"></a></div><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-42697893974572647132015-07-05T10:58:00.001-07:002015-07-05T10:58:17.481-07:00Bikeist vs. The Oregon Coast<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7HpSy7Qeq_ZtbU9gLuQc2uIUJdHwFcD1saPNflG_O7KBjt2o9_CHHXcHz3ChQKpZoN6VSwWB5baZkcXuwxzbSPZ_7j9jqiwK5wPD9oevuXsQwlqx7wsVmflm_l0wzOX9KsK9WK-XcGjW/s640/blogger-image-1364239642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7HpSy7Qeq_ZtbU9gLuQc2uIUJdHwFcD1saPNflG_O7KBjt2o9_CHHXcHz3ChQKpZoN6VSwWB5baZkcXuwxzbSPZ_7j9jqiwK5wPD9oevuXsQwlqx7wsVmflm_l0wzOX9KsK9WK-XcGjW/s640/blogger-image-1364239642.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>Waiting for my connecting flight to Portland where my buddy, Bob, will be picking me up and transporting me to Astoria, OR, where I will begin biking (the entire) Oregon coast tomorrow morning. Adrenaline is already flowing. Plan is to do it solo in five days (about 75 miles a day). Haven't decided yet whether I will blog along the way, but that's part of the beauty of these journeys. Logistics planning aside, I really try to let the journey just happen. How the week goes will depend on an incalculable variety of variables dependent upon who I meet, what/when I eat, the weather, my stamina, attractive nuisances and other distractions along the way, etc. --<div><br></div><div>One of my favorite authors, Cormac McCarthy, likes to write about men heading off alone into the unknown on horseback with few provisions beyond their own wits. The closest I'll ever get to that is wandering off every so often with my bike (and a charged smart-phone). I know - not the stuff of novels -- but plenty exciting for me.</div><div><br></div><div>If you happen to be along the Oregon coast this week, be sure to wave -- I'll be the guy on the bike!</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-40032577396281179102015-05-14T17:39:00.000-07:002015-05-14T17:39:11.273-07:00Ride Bike, Get Stabbed, Rinse, Repeat . . .<span style="font-size: large;">It was a little over a year ago, on this very blog, that I revealed the alarming epidemic of bike-related stabbings in San Diego. The evidence I laid out establishing the nearly 100% chance of getting stabbed at some point whilst biking in and around America's Classiest City was so compelling that The San Diego Reader chose to feature my findings as a public service to our oblivious populous: <a href="http://www.sandiegoreader.com/news/2014/apr/02/blog-diego-google-bike-and-stab-and-san-diego/#" target="_blank">"Quick Sell Your Bike . . ."</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After the hysteria died down, I moved on to less sensational topics, such as chainsaw wielding maniacs threatening bike riders, and hadn't given much thought to the whole bike-stabbing thing until last week. The headline that popped into my Twitter feed was: "Man stabbed at 7-Eleven in North Park." The wise ass in me (or, perhaps, more accurately, the wise ass that I am) instantly wondered what the chances were that a bike was involved. I've resisted the temptation to click on stabbing stories for a whole year (taking it one day at a time, people), so there's no way that the first random one I click on could possibly be bike-related, right? Wrong. The compulsively curious part of my nature couldn't resist such click-bait, and was rewarded with this KUSI story - <a href="http://www.kusi.com/story/29022103/man-stabbed-at-7-eleven-in-north-park" target="_blank">"Man Stabbed at 7-Eleven"</a> - which described how a man was stabbed in a North Park 7 Eleven parking lot (I warned you people about mixing bikes with low-end fast food, but did you listen?!) and then "rode his bicycle to a friends house at Arizona St and
Wightman St where he was given a wheelchair to sit in." Same old story people - have bike, get stabbed, ride to home of friend who keeps a wheelchair around for just these sorts of situations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Awesome! This week's post could, practically, write itself with such juicy, sweeps-worthy material (it IS May, isn't it?). Before actually sitting down to let this post write itself, though, I had to make sure I did my due diligence by having my crack research team scour the news wires for any other recent bike-related stabbings. And wouldn't you know it -- we had not one, but two bike-related stabbings in the last week. The more recent, one, though, added a twist to the usual bike-stabbing scenario. As reported by the UT - <a href="http://www.utsandiego.com/news/2015/apr/27/man-stabbed-north-park-by-acquaintance/" target="_blank">"Man Stabbed In North Park . . ."</a> - this time, it was the bike rider who was the aggressor: "<span class="dateline"></span>A man was stabbed at a bus stop at 30th Street and El Cajon Boulevard
in North Park Monday night by an acquaintance who rode up to him on a
bicycle, San Diego police said." </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now, that's more like it! It's about time we, innocent, law-abiding bikeists turned the table on our tormentors and gained the upper hand -- it's stab or be stabbed people! No longer will we bikeists be defenseless lambs -- think twice before randomly stabbing us you ne'er do wells out there. That unseemly bulge in my lycra? It may just mean that I'm happy to see you, but it may mean that I'm packing 10 inches of deadly, razor-sharpened steel. So, you've got to ask yourself one question, punk. "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?</span><br />
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<br />The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-58718724844925102392015-05-07T08:23:00.001-07:002015-05-07T08:23:16.271-07:00The Bikeist Gets All Existential And Stuff . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQiQgLOdeUQBGDwJb4NpklEQ1p9wI4g-X1F3VfwW7NJk8UKbBTttmcYaQg2bcdaSwdxuA2cbnNHzMShJMO6lrzwNdjwlg9EG_FZyh8vaPAxVt0hJWi_OEhnBmIZDWQlv4LeCqYxJ2bojUp/s1600/shakespeare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQiQgLOdeUQBGDwJb4NpklEQ1p9wI4g-X1F3VfwW7NJk8UKbBTttmcYaQg2bcdaSwdxuA2cbnNHzMShJMO6lrzwNdjwlg9EG_FZyh8vaPAxVt0hJWi_OEhnBmIZDWQlv4LeCqYxJ2bojUp/s1600/shakespeare.jpg" width="318" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> To Blog or not to Blog, that is a question (not, necessarily, THE question). If a Blogger uploads a post in the forest and never gets a single hit does the blog-post exist? If I never submit another post again, ever, am I still a Blogger?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">These are the sorts of questions that run through a Bikeist's mind when he's gone almost an entire month without a single post. How long does one have to go before they can no longer consider themselves to be a Blogger? Even when I'm not posting, I still feel like I'm the Bikeist. Probably a lot like how Batman feels when he has to lay low for awhile -- right Batman?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTiJPGA7Obi926O2Gj0G_Zn3zdN8iLOcHrgxwApNbBdnY1WaTr_VfbGPVrqaiV-Q3nHNT3vAbERJvKGWZ0Fpao5Oh0NoL5Ohs1vDJWn3RL1i3dNVk7_PTyycdSMwaBXigHsyiZQGkc8zJE/s1600/batman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTiJPGA7Obi926O2Gj0G_Zn3zdN8iLOcHrgxwApNbBdnY1WaTr_VfbGPVrqaiV-Q3nHNT3vAbERJvKGWZ0Fpao5Oh0NoL5Ohs1vDJWn3RL1i3dNVk7_PTyycdSMwaBXigHsyiZQGkc8zJE/s400/batman.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I guess part of the beauty of blogging is that from the very first time you hit the "publish" button, you are, eternally, a Blogger. Eons from now, a researcher from an advanced civilization could be surfing whatever form of interwebs they have in the 221st century and randomly enter "bike," "stab," and "San Diego," and suddenly be blinded with the brilliance that is The San Diego Bikeist! Imagine that!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, as usual, the call of duty (for reals people - not the video game) has kept me from my weekly blathering about all things biking and San Diego. Although, thankfully, on shore duty in the good old U.S. of A., the rhythm of my work life has been much like that when I was at war -- long periods of repetitive routine punctuated by shorter periods of chaotic intensity. Unfortunately for me (and, especially, my rabid, loyal fan-base), my latest "intense period" has gone on for a good two months with one "crisis" leading into another. Not complaining (I love my job), and not going to elaborate (this blog is about biking, not keeping the world safe for God-loving, flag-waving, quinoa-eating bikeists everywhere), just want to let you know that when I am absent it is for good reason. You understand, don't you Batman?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The beauty of my lifestyle is that, even when I'm too busy to blog, I still bike every single day. Even when you're working constantly, you still have to get to and from work -- which, for a bike-commuter means two, guaranteed, rides a day. It's what keeps me sane and alive (despite the driveists out there trying to kill me). My best recent week of riding actually came at the height of "crisis" #2 - last week. While trying to manage the evolving issue at work via smartphone, I had to attend a conference in Mission Valley. Love these sorts of challenges, as they test my logistical acumen and dedication to always bike commuting. I had to coordinate ahead of time with a buddy who was staying at the conference hotel, so I could shower in his room and then had to catch the 0540 ferry from Coronado each morning, so I could bike through Little Italy (with a quick pit-stop for a croissant and double-espresso with my buddy Erroll at Influx), lower Mission Hills, Middletown, and Old Town before catching the San Diego River bike-path to Mission Valley and the conference. Needless to say, I was the only attendee who biked there every (any) day - and - probably the only one as pumped and ready to go as I was each morning. So fun to be back on the ferry and to change the commuting routine up. Although I usually get a good 16 - 20 in after work every day, the 1.6 miles to my office each morning aren't enough to even break a sweat. Perhaps I need to start attending more conferences!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last week also exposed the one weakness of my lifestyle -- I'm kind of in a bind when I'm away from HQ and am needed back at the office urgently. Last week's "crisis" presented just such a situation, as something came up that needed to be handled in person. Luckily, I was able to get a ride from a willing volunteer, so the day, once again, was saved. Plus, there's always Uber or (as a last resort) a cab when there are no colleagues available to save you from your Bikeist lifestyle choice, so I'm not about to abandon it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back to the one-week Mission Valley commute -- I enjoyed it thoroughly. The incredible weather last week was a big contributor, but I was also pleasantly surprised with how dead India Street was at 6 am -- less busy than when I normally traverse it on Saturday mornings! The San Diego River Trail is in great shape, and the destitutes I encountered along the way, even the ones trying to complete a drug deal, seemed to be completely harmless. There are so many of you out there who refuse to bike commute because you are intimidated at the prospect of biking in an urban environment. But, if you pick your route and times properly, you can almost have the roads to yourself! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, loyal readers, not to worry -- I have not abandoned you. Never fear - even when you have to suffer through an unfortunate gap in posts - be assured that I am still off pedaling somewhere simultaneously conjuring new blog posts for your amusement. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I bike, therefore I am!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-43468460980718880902015-03-12T07:05:00.001-07:002015-03-12T07:05:34.913-07:00The Second Best Thing That Has Ever Happened In The History of Humankind<span style="font-size: large;">Hello? Anybody out there? Fan base? You still with me?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know, I know -- it's been too long, but it's hard to blog when you're fighting a life and death battle with malaria. Well, at least, I assume it would be hard since I've never, actually, contracted malaria. But, you did feel somewhat guilty there for a split-second didn't you loyal readers? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The truth of the matter is that my day job (keeping the free world safe for bike-loving patriots everywhere) has been more of a day, night, and weekend job for the past few weeks as we've been doing a sprawling, massive investigation that I can't talk about. So, just take my word for it: I've been really, really busy. But, I've been thinking about you guys the whole time. And, I know you've all been thinking and worrying about me and my not-malaria.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nice thing about being a one car family is that, even when I'm super busy, I can't use that business as an excuse to not get on the bike. No choice -- bike or nothing. Of course, it's not like I wouldn't pick a bike over just about any other form of transportation anytime and anywhere. Except, of course, for trans-oceanic trips -- bike isn't too useful for those. So, it was on my bike that I experienced an incredible surge of joy as I headed out to work on Sunday morning and was greeted by this!</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglEdkVOgBAMQWJeLlQl1bWXYP46YN-B0CzCv3hub07nT5FV3w1deHJ20Ixh1pcpfKrFoRewq78Wgen8fxUA-ljaoKKjErHXifSLHByJ5C4I3xrxIcI930XAuzr328Xf0wkb7y9e7_BBHS7/s1600/QR+Sharrow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglEdkVOgBAMQWJeLlQl1bWXYP46YN-B0CzCv3hub07nT5FV3w1deHJ20Ixh1pcpfKrFoRewq78Wgen8fxUA-ljaoKKjErHXifSLHByJ5C4I3xrxIcI930XAuzr328Xf0wkb7y9e7_BBHS7/s1600/QR+Sharrow.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's right people! My very own "sharrow" right at the foot of my driveway. The mark of the Bikeist tagged, eternally, directly in front of Bikeist World-Wide Headquarters!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Now, any of you familiar with my, now, classic, posts <a href="http://sdbikeist.blogspot.com/2014/10/duh.html" target="_blank">"Duh"</a> and </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://sdbikeist.blogspot.com/2014/11/the-single-best-thing-that-has-ever.html" target="_blank">"The Single Best Thing That Has Ever Happened In The History of Humankind"</a> have already lived through the trials and tribulations of my 1.6 mile (one way) bike commute down the very road I live on. As described in those posts, the road is way too narrow for cars and bikes to ride together in the same lane. Most drivers get that, but the occasional knucklehead gets offended by my presence on the road he'd like to have to himself and buzzes me or offers choice words about my supposed obligation to get to the curb.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, after one too many of these incidents, I got with the base XO and engineer and proposed that they paint sharrows on my street, to help educate knuckleheads and non-knuckleheads alike that it is ok for bikes to "take the lane" on such a narrow street. After I explained to them exactly what a sharrow was, they took to the idea instantly and now we have them along the entire course of the street that leads from my driveway to my office. Thanks, guys -- you rock!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, do these markings possess mystical properties that will make me immune from the harm posed by multi-ton vehicles sharing the road with me. Umm . . . no. Every bikeist has to stay ever-aware that they, and they alone, are singularly responsible for their own safety. We can't rely on street markings, lanes, three-foot laws, or the good intentions of driveists (especially) to protect us. We need to keep our heads on a swivel, track what's moving around and in front of us, check our sixes, obey stop signs, use hand-signals, and do our best to move with the flow of traffic, staying out of blind spots and never overtaking a car to its right as we're approaching an intersection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, what good are they then? First of all, they're better than nothing. Second of all, as driveists get used to them, and heed them, they should, indeed, make the street safer for all users. But, most of all, they increase awareness that bikes are equal users of the road and just as entitled to be on it as cars. Let's face it - despite all of my close calls, I have been a skilled enough and aware enough rider to avoid ever getting hit (knock on wood). I probably don't need the sharrows to keep on avoiding getting hit. But, what the sharrows should definitely save me from is being an asshole. Without them, I have to be demonstrative about my right to take the lane and have to defend it verbally without visible proof at hand. Now, I can happily pedal down the middle of the road (at 18 - 23 mph in a 25, so I'm not holding up anybody too badly) and simply point to the lovely sharrows anytime anybody gets impatient or rude with me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Biking, for me is about joy. I don't want every ride to have the potential for ugly confrontations. Plus, I actually, genuinely enjoy people and want to get along with them. I just don't know what primal urge exactly (especially for dudes with Georgia plates) makes certain people see red at the very sight of a bike, but I'm hopeful that my beautiful new sharrows will provide the reinforcing symbol of legal sanction that they need in order to start understanding that riders magically defying the laws of God and physics by propelling themselves forward on two wheels are not deserving of instant execution for blasphemy, or whatever. Believe it or not, I actually think the sharrows are working already. It could just be my imagination, but it seems like drivers have been calmly changing lanes to pass me, and holding off on doing so when on-coming traffic approaching. It's the shame of legal sanction! I know it! The sign of the Bikeist is a constant reminder to evil-doers everywhere that violating the three-foot-law doesn't pay!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ride safe out there people and ride, proudly, over every sharrow you see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You're welcome.</span><br />
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<br />The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-91536304001408088712015-02-11T21:05:00.000-08:002015-02-11T21:05:35.859-08:00"Being A Force Of Nature"<span style="font-size: large;">Remember when I devoted an entire post to whining about being stranded without the means to repair a flat? -- <a href="http://sdbikeist.blogspot.com/2014/08/patches-we-aint-got-no-stinking-patches.html" target="_blank">"We Ain't Got No Stinkin' Patches"</a> Of course you do!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Well, I somehow doubt that the amazing dude featured in this video would be able to muster much empathy for me:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Can you imagine? The energy he expended in this video constitutes more exercise than the typical American gets in an entire week. Some might refer to him as "inspiring," but he is more than that to me. He is a modern day "Superman." Not, at all, disabled -- a better version of all of us who take our functioning, unimpeded limbs for granted. So appropriate that the Priest at the Amphib Base Chapel quoted the following from George Bernard Shaw this Sunday:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">"This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized
by yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before you
are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of Nature instead of a
feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that
the world will not devote itself to making you happy."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks to loyal Bikeist fan, Shelby from Solana Beach, for bringing this video to the Bikeist's attention! </span>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-53184349140215989402015-01-29T16:31:00.001-08:002015-01-29T16:31:59.942-08:00Chocolate MishapDue to an unforeseen, but entirely preventable, mishap whilst attempting to make home-made macadamia nut dark chocolate last night, The Bikeist has been forced to take a one week hiatus. He will return some time after he manages to finally clean up the God-forsaken mess that resulted when he allowed the entire tray of molten glop to spill all over the inside of the freezer -- instantly hardening onto everything it touched.<div><br></div><div>Yeesh . . .</div><div><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-66460440913944104452015-01-22T23:22:00.000-08:002015-01-22T23:22:47.063-08:00Ride Hard My Friends . . .You know you are hard on bikes when the guys at your local shop always greet you with a wry "what is it this time" type of smile when you appear at the mechanics' entrance. When you ride every day, and at every opportunity, your bike is going to amass a bit more wear and tear than bikes that are pulled out of the garage more intermittently. In my case, though, the issues always seem to be more dramatic than mere wear and tear. Last year, alone, I went through more than a dozen spokes and cracked my frame -- all without even crashing. After rebuilding my back wheel twice, Holland's finally just gave me a new set of Mavic wheels (which have held up nicely, thank you very much).<br />
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I have previously written about my bike's mysterious creaking issue -- originally diagnosed as a saddle problem, but, when a new saddle didn't make the creak go away, a hairline fracture in the frame was found right next to the seatpost (and, thanks to Specialized for replacing the frame for free!) Despite all the frustration in diagnosing the creak and waiting for a new frame, I was actually pretty happy that the ordeal led me to the new saddle - a Selle Anatomica X:<br />
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These leather saddles are actually made by a San Diego company and are so, so comfortable. I've been riding mine for six months now with ZERO soreness. The large gap in the center creates a nice hammock-like effect that works like magic. Plus, it looks SO cool!<br />
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Tension is maintained (preventing sag) by tightening the tension-bolt under the nose of the saddle. Speaking of that bolt, it was the latest subject of amazement for the guys at Holland's, because, simply through road-riding, I managed to crack the steel bracket that surrounds the bolt:<br />
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Look at that! You'd think I was Danny Macaskill dropping off the top of my house onto a boulder garden on my road bike, but this is simply what our lovely San Diego roads can do to sheer metal. Brian at Holland's said he's never seen anything like it. The good news was that the housing was replaceable, and Anatomica honored the one year manufacturer's warranty and sent the new part for free (which was easy to install myself).<br />
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Waiting for the part gave me and the All-Purpose Do-Anything Urban Assault Bike some quality time together, which is always fun, but it was nice to get back on my road bike again once it arrived and I got the saddle back together again.<br />
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Hopefully, this was just a freak occurrence, but I sincerely hope that this bracket makes it longer than six months -- you'll be the first to hear if it doesn't (well, perhaps the first after the folks at Selle Anatomica) --<br />
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<br />The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-59315390546565608252015-01-14T21:41:00.000-08:002015-01-15T17:40:51.651-08:00EAT BACON, DON'T JOG!So, I bought this book for family and friends this Christmas, and sent a select few a slab of premium bacon along with their present:<br>
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I bought the book for myself right before Christmas simply based upon enjoying Grant Petersen's first book, "Just Ride":<br>
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Have to admit that, while I didn't agree with every single thing Grant said in "Just Ride," it was definitely one of the primary sources of motivation for me to do this blog. His overall premise that bikes and the world of biking should be fun and not, solely, the realm of pretentious wanna-be racers, really resonated with me.<br>
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His original book included a few fitness and dietary tips, but the real focus was bikes and biking. In his more recent effort, he addresses how, after struggling with weight his entire adult life (who hasn't?) despite hundreds of thousands of miles on bikes, he finally got permanently lean and strong by revamping his diet and approach to exercise. I read a lot about fitness, diet, exercise, etc., so I wouldn't say that this book was completely revelatory to me. However, he did an excellent job of succinctly capturing the fruits of science and research that has been emerging in the worlds of diet and exercise in the last few years. Reviewing them in a fun, easily digestable format reminded me that I had all the information I needed to gain total control over my fitness, but just needed to implement that info -- as Grant had.<br>
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Non-revelation #1: Avoiding ingestion of carbohydrates results in weight loss. Duh -- Atkins figured this out back in the 70's. I have dabbled with low-carb at times, losing weight easily whenever I did, but always worried about the health effects of ingesting so much fat. Hard to totally embrace a high protein/fat diet without hearing the echoes of "experts" touting low-fat diets in your head. Well, many opf those e"experts"have been issuing apologies of late since studies that have emerged in the last several years have revealed that the fat that clogs the arteries of typical Americans doesn't come from ingested fat - it comes from stored fat. And what causes us to store fat at greater rates than any other food-stuffs? Sugar and carbohydrates. Minimize these in your diet and your body has no choice but to burn up ingested fat as a fuel source. Pretty simple. Again, this wasn't completely new to me, but taking a tour through the science with Grant, and reading about how he implemented it himself (including great recipes) sort of gave me permission to go low-carb for good. And it was SO easy. Once you do it for a short while, you realize that bread, tortilla, potatoes, rice, pasta, and corn-stuff are all incredibly bland and tasteless. Any flavor they have, comes from the real food that they serve as a delivery device for. So, why not just eat that real food and toss the empty, sugar-laden calories? Best example: my favorite breakfast burrito in San Diego is the Californian at Cafe 1134 on Coronado: apple smoked bacon, eggs, avocado, and one of the best salsas on the planet. Well, it also comes as an omelette! Scrap the tortilla, and you still have an incredibly delicious breakfast. Same goes for ditching the bun and going "protein style" at In-n-Out -- just as delicious! <br>
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Non-revelation #2: Short, high-intensity workouts are superior to long low-intensity workouts (e.g. jogging). Now, this was truly not news to me, because I have already been preaching the value of burpees and other quick, off-the-bike high intensity exercises on this very blog.<br>
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<br>The value, for me, of exploring this concept via Grant's book was that he provides lots of ideas for various ways to get these quick, high-intensity work-outs done. Burpees are great and all that, but so is variety. The exercises that most intrigued me were kettle-bell swings and presses and a really fun workout he touts that involves taking a medcine ball out to a big field, throwing it as far as you can, running to it, picking it up and repeating for four minutes. A true caveman-style workout -- just tossing your big rock around a field. Right up my alley!<br>
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So, how does this play into biking? Well, that's where Petersen connects with his first book. Don't ride to get lean, fit, fast, etc. Ride for fun. Eat right and do 5 - 15 minutes of high intensity strength conditioning a day, and ride whatever way makes you happy. If climbing mountains or doing centuries makes you happy (as they certainly do for me), then great -- but don't make biking a chore. Biking should just be gravy on top of the minimum effort it takes to truly get lean and strong.<br>
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Down 25 pounds already, and lost weight straight through the holidays, while eating plenty of bacon, eggs, steak, shrimp, cheese, nuts, and other delicious foods I love. Never hungry . . .<br>
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Don't believe me? Well, read the book!<br>
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<br>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-32038729535518232692015-01-08T07:49:00.000-08:002015-01-08T07:49:34.882-08:00Once Upon a Time . . .<span style="font-size: large;">Once upon a time, there was a not-so-long-suffering wife who liked to ride bikes with her wonderful, Bikeist husband . . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fans of the Bikeist's neverending Bikeography are already well aware of the tortured relationship between my long-sufferering-wife and bikes. In our early days, she used to ride with me all the time. We took our bikes on our honeymoon to Nantucket, Cape Cod and Vermont, on vacations to Acadia and Block Island and used to do lots of weekend jaunts. As my wanderlust got stronger and stronger, though, and the jaunts evolved into what she termed "death-marches" she suddenly, and decidedly, retired from biking. Luckily, she never laid down an "it's me or the bikes" ultimatum, so I was able to continue to chase my obsession -- alone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nothing wrong with alone, though -- I'm surrounded by people all day, every day, and am the only male in a house full of women and budding women, so the bike is a great place for me to gather my thoughts and enjoy a little forced solitude. However, I have missed the jaunts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've occasionally tried to lure my long-suffering-wife back onto bikes for short trips over the years, but she has always had an excuse at the ready, the main one being that her one-speed beach cruiser was too clunky and heavy. Then, out of the blue this Fall, she suggested that she might be more willing to ride if she had a lighter bike with multiple speeds. She only had to suggest once, because at that moment I determined to get her the perfect bike for Christmas.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, what bike to get? It had to be easy to ride, comfortable, have a reasonable range of speeds, and, maybe most importantly, be pretty. Couldn't be a road bike or mountain bike -- she'd reject either immediately. She also very quickly fell out of love with the dull, hybrid-style bikes she had ridden in the past. What we needed was a town bike, something European looking, a bike that begs to be pedaled. This led me immediately to the classic "mixte" style - a dropped cross-bar bike, that isn't quite a "ladies" bike. my first thought was to go with one from Public, the company that provides bikes to Kimpton Hotels:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, at well over $1,000, this beauty was a bit pricey given the risk of my long-suffering-wife not re-embracing the joys of riding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next was this version from Linus, that my friend Francine rides on our Thursday night "Circumnavigation" rides:</span><br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;">Great bike, which I was all set to get, until I visited Holland's and saw that Electra had entered the European-style bike game with their "Loft" seven speed. The price was great, and with some accessorization, I was able to make it a thing of true beauty:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Took this shot right before hiding it in my friends', Gary and Terry's garage until Christmas -- always so exciting to know Christmas will involve a new bike for someone!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I retrieved it from said garage late on Christmas Eve after everyone, including long-suffering, was dead asleep, and then placed it prominently in front of our beautiful, real (of course) tree. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You should have seen her eyes light up when she saw it -- love at first sight! She couldn't wait to take it for a spin, which we did in the afternoon, just around the neighborhood. It fit her like it was custom made for her -- perfection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We were busy with visiting relatives most of the rest of December, but, once they were gone, she joined me on a cafe ride to Cafe 1134 for breakfast this weekend -- just a little over 2 miles each way, with great coffee and breakfast in the middle. We were jaunting again!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I remember, way back, before her sudden retirement, that she joked that she would only agree to ride with me on islands, since I could only bike a finite distance. I guess that makes Coronado (minus the Strand) just about perfect then! As long as I keep things within the confines of the island, I think we may have an infinite number of rides together ahead of us --</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And they biked happily ever after -- </span><br />
<br />The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-1290664649891011322015-01-01T23:12:00.001-08:002015-01-01T23:12:38.381-08:00Happy New Bike Year!The Bikeist will be back with full force next week, after a restful, and ride-filled Christmas and New Year's. May you all have your best years in the saddle yet!<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDB77HGypbZ47dnFqIwRq0x8yErqEKW3nlChwFlv0mwboTOsOPADgYqno__4Qzr1QBUsnl7veFReje9Xp8TBKSXVpMM5-Z9-H_pNUoxoDjSvBzNC97LxQVegkvArhITHlpZCJiFKZcnEUt/s640/blogger-image--1415127625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDB77HGypbZ47dnFqIwRq0x8yErqEKW3nlChwFlv0mwboTOsOPADgYqno__4Qzr1QBUsnl7veFReje9Xp8TBKSXVpMM5-Z9-H_pNUoxoDjSvBzNC97LxQVegkvArhITHlpZCJiFKZcnEUt/s640/blogger-image--1415127625.jpg"></a></div><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-81996988871624877442014-12-25T09:05:00.001-08:002014-12-25T09:05:43.460-08:00Merry Bikemas (2014)!Merry Christmas to one and all! Nothing beats getting up on Christmas morning to find a bike by the tree, does it?<div><br></div><div>Here is what my long-suffering wife found:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrhbnhgHRv_ulpdG0_8_I9413wFh_Ef5bnshHOP5yL55p3UeOTRqL2pwagoKCvASPoj6lmO833c6TYnbduEQzDqCuJN8Epi2DfUF8J-nQpE6g2K2RJAvjYkFzOMP7WoMfd7P-_glKyIsZ/s640/blogger-image-799706814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrhbnhgHRv_ulpdG0_8_I9413wFh_Ef5bnshHOP5yL55p3UeOTRqL2pwagoKCvASPoj6lmO833c6TYnbduEQzDqCuJN8Epi2DfUF8J-nQpE6g2K2RJAvjYkFzOMP7WoMfd7P-_glKyIsZ/s640/blogger-image-799706814.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Just begs to be ridden doesn't it? Big thanks to Holland's Bicycles for customizing this 7 speed Electra Loft for me. The brown tires, daisy saddle, daisy bell, multi-colored grips and accented basket make it look like a completely different bike than the one that shipped.</div><div><br></div><div>So, if I avoid any forced "death-marches" my long-suffering wife may just be back in the bike game for good. Let's hope so . . .</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkZLK1nHV18cx91UFbfhPROMpO1-9UbJ7ZwuokzgMwirkHKlxFs5Dvtlx5o-5wZZZe1RKeGT5WGiseGbtQaEKyGxBahs_tPRdkFgCYOtMruIs18nmLRuJfbyWUT4P3YkShZLeZqUa3hBF/s640/blogger-image--790928181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJkZLK1nHV18cx91UFbfhPROMpO1-9UbJ7ZwuokzgMwirkHKlxFs5Dvtlx5o-5wZZZe1RKeGT5WGiseGbtQaEKyGxBahs_tPRdkFgCYOtMruIs18nmLRuJfbyWUT4P3YkShZLeZqUa3hBF/s640/blogger-image--790928181.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-69363449338466941292014-12-10T22:41:00.000-08:002014-12-11T13:33:25.554-08:00Say It Ain't So, Bono!<span style="font-size: large;">Did you hear the awful news? Hard to believe it, but one of the biggest stars on the planet, who also happens to be the lead singer of the Bikeist's favorite rock band, managed to get into a bone-breaking bike crash while riding in Central Park. No, it was not Chris Martin! Who said that?! That's the guy we wish had crashed! It was Paul Hewson, aka, Bono, of U2 of course!</span><br>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As reported in Rolling Stone, here is the statement from Bono's Doc detailing the full extent of his injuries:</span><br>
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<b>Full Statement From Dean Lorich, MD on Bono's Condition:</b><br>
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<i>On November 16th, Bono was involved in a high energy bicycle
accident when he attempted to avoid another rider. Presented as a
Trauma Alert to New York Presbyterian/Weill Cornell's Emergency
Department, his Trauma Work-up at that time included multiple X-rays and
CAT scans showed injuries that include:</i><br>
<i>1. Left facial fracture involving the orbit of his eye. </i><br>
<i>2. Left scapula (shoulder blade) fracture in three separate pieces. </i><br>
<i>3. Left compound distal humerus fracture where the bone of his
humerus was driven though his skin and the bone was in six different
pieces. </i><i>He was taken emergently to the operating room for a
five-hour surgery Sunday evening where the elbow was washed out
and debrided, a nerve trapped in the break was moved and the bone was
repaired with three metal plates and 18 screws.</i><br>
<i>4. One day later, he had surgery to his left hand to repair a fracture of his 5th metacarpal.</i><br>
<i>He will require intensive and progressive therapy, however a full recovery is expected. </i><br>
<i>Dean Lorich, MD</i><br>
<i>Orthopedic Trauma Surgeon</i><br>
<i>New York Presbyterian/Weill Cornell Medical Center and Hospital For Special Surgery</i><br>
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Read more: <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/bono-intensive-therapy-bike-injury-20141119#ixzz3LZ3TfD8W" style="color: #003399;">http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/bono-intensive-therapy-bike-injury-20141119#ixzz3LZ3TfD8W</a>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ouch! I'm left wondering what a low energy bicycle accident might be, though. Is that the kind of accident you get into because you skipped breakfast, or, maybe, just have a case of the blahs?</span><br>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, our local daily, was all over this story, honing in on important "facts" with its typical journalistic prowess. Yes, the <a href="http://www.utsandiego.com/news/2014/dec/04/u2-singer-bono-has-hasidic-jew-alter-ego/" target="_blank">U-T</a> reported that Bono crashed because he was riding while disguised as a Hasidic Jew. Really. This was based upon a tongue-in-cheek response given by the Edge in a radio interview when he was asked why nobody was able to get a photo of Bono right after the crash: "You know, when Bono goes cycling he likes to dress up as a Hasidic Jew."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The facetiousness of a response like that should speak for itself, but the U-T, and several other outlets, reported the joke as if it was serious. At least the Jewish news website, haaretz.com, after first publishing the comment as if it was true, followed up with a clarifying article: <a href="http://www.haaretz.com/jewish-world/jewish-world-news/1.630753" target="_blank">Bono's people confirm: U2 singer did not disguise himself as Hasidic Jew</a>. Thank God that his people came forward with the truth! No amount of investigative journalism could have ever toppled such otherwise, credible, reportage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Good grief, what a sorry state the world of journalism has sunk to. At least you poor people still have me to give it to you straight. Which leads me to the most disturbing aspect of Bono's unfortunate spill: I caused it. That's right, I'm to blame and I'm so, so, sorry. Remember, a couple of months ago, when I celebrated the release of U2's new album in this post: <a href="http://sdbikeist.blogspot.com/2014/09/like-fish-needs-bicycle.html" target="_blank">http://sdbikeist.blogspot.com/2014/09/like-fish-needs-bicycle.html</a> and with this picture?</span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8PTROE2TT1K1Fdg6iJWMhlbyxX8yMHdzlvJhESKEJAq52Uzcyt9UelIIaVbRFGDekP-Wj4cuP0koCYbP4URcoM5g5Bn5Uc40Fc8eeadECKLhyWjubUuHudITgLDtT2zHU__11rIIp7C5/s1600/bono+on+bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8PTROE2TT1K1Fdg6iJWMhlbyxX8yMHdzlvJhESKEJAq52Uzcyt9UelIIaVbRFGDekP-Wj4cuP0koCYbP4URcoM5g5Bn5Uc40Fc8eeadECKLhyWjubUuHudITgLDtT2zHU__11rIIp7C5/s1600/bono+on+bike.jpg" height="400" width="266"></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Clearly, just as athletes who appear on the cover of Sports Illustrated consistently have terrible performances immediately thereafter, and football players who are featured on the box of the Madden football video game almost always go on to have awful seasons (right Peyton Hillis?) Bono must have suffered from the Bikeist curse! I'm guessing that Bono, probably as big a fan of the Bikeist as I am of him, read the now fateful post and became nostalgic for his care-free youth, deciding to take up biking again (sort of the point of the whole blog, right?) I'm so sorry Bono! How could I have not foreseen this? Of course, it wasn't my idea for you to don a preposterous disguise -- oh yeah, almost forgot, that was just a joke -- almost forgot that your "people" clarified it.</span><br>
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<span style="font-size: large;">How can I make it up to you? Got it! When your tour comes through So-Cal, free of charge, I'll take you out and provide some bike-safety pointers on a ride around my beloved San Diego. You can even bring Larry, Adam and the Edge if you like -- the more the merrier! </span><br>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rule #1, though, always be yourself when riding!</span><br>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Call me Bono! I'm here for you!</span><br>
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The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-28435150357489816532014-12-04T17:56:00.000-08:002014-12-04T17:56:23.548-08:00What Lay Ahead<span style="font-size: large;">If I didn't owe my faithful fan base the exciting conclusion to my three-part series on biking from San Luis Obispo (SLO) to Santa Barbara I'd probably be ranting about how everybody in SoCal loses their minds when wet stuff starts falling from the sky -- even joggers on the Strand bike path! So, at least you'll be spared that . . .</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, where was I? Oh yeah! That's right, stuck in a coffee shop in Buellton waiting for the sun to get high enough so as not to render me invisible to cars overtaking me from behind. It took a good 45 minutes before I felt comfortable, which was fine because I was getting an early start and only had 40 miles to go to Santa Barbara (after 80 the previous day), leaving plenty of time for me to catch the late afternoon Surfliner back to San Diego. Once I cleared Buellton's "rush" hour, it was back to the rolling hills past scenic vineyards, much of which was lined by a canopy of trees overhanging Rte 246 most of the way to Solvang. Pretty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Already filled to the gills with coffee and just starting to digest my free lobby waffle, I decided to just plow through Solvang (which looked just as kitschy as I remembered it) and leave more time for one of my favorite towns on the planet - Santa Barbara. The 246 got a little steeper after Solvang, but the pavement was pristine and the nice, wide shoulder was still there. My first sign of impending doom, though, was a temporary sign directing trucks to use 154 to get to Santa Barbara -- yes, the same 154 that I needed to take over the San Marcos Pass. "Gulp!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">No way to backtrack this far into the trip, and the shoulder was good, so I pressed on. Before too long I intersected the turn-off to the 154:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZIYANDcYGNCHLqFVfmnbvKXUN7_zR-CH-p2wcBAPgfB0jckrixMtl_RbaB0MekTmLd14oAQiBLsxc3ab9U_zYUaH3MsUJ6WGtHAbe-MSx485gXWWK8USr7nxmJ9OiVgvMdvYkZz0vpp3/s640/blogger-image--1284540893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZIYANDcYGNCHLqFVfmnbvKXUN7_zR-CH-p2wcBAPgfB0jckrixMtl_RbaB0MekTmLd14oAQiBLsxc3ab9U_zYUaH3MsUJ6WGtHAbe-MSx485gXWWK8USr7nxmJ9OiVgvMdvYkZz0vpp3/s400/blogger-image--1284540893.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The interchange looked brand new and opened up to a four lane highway with a good shoulder, so I still wasn't too worried. However, the cars and trucks passing me were really moving -- 70 or more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">About two miles in, though, the shoulder pretty much disappeared as the road narrowed to two lanes, but the trucks and cars, with their fast running start were maintaining 70 as the road funneled. Not fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not possible to "take the lane" with a steady succession of vehicles overtaking me so quickly, and with a steady stream coming in the opposite direction as well, so all I could do was cling to the white line and my less-than-one-foot shoulder (where there was one). Adding to the challenge was a succession of long rises with curves at the top, so there was no way for me to build any significant momentum, especially since I was consciously trying to not sway or rock as I climbed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I got through two of the rises, after which there were slight respites in the form of ride-able shoulders on the short flats, but then there was this third climb:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAyTSUzpn8yfw9VIjolMCwdyq9RE3XQ54P8jG2CLivp8cXS1f4kWZA1e7OPqjO5n20u_0-mPIjAuAn1CftqUdOZRsCTW6Y4qQU0t6gFZs8pUl68ArJRSqqViWB0bbzPyVh1bBeKDOsyCP/s640/blogger-image--2071089408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAyTSUzpn8yfw9VIjolMCwdyq9RE3XQ54P8jG2CLivp8cXS1f4kWZA1e7OPqjO5n20u_0-mPIjAuAn1CftqUdOZRsCTW6Y4qQU0t6gFZs8pUl68ArJRSqqViWB0bbzPyVh1bBeKDOsyCP/s400/blogger-image--2071089408.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Please notice the "Caution Truck Traffic" sign -- no kidding! This was about half way up, where, thankfully, there was a rocky pull-off that I turned into right after two opposing trucks passed each other, and me, simultaneously, each going at least 65 mph. The truck on my side came within inches, with no room to cross into the opposing lane. As you look up, past the turnout, you can see the type of "shoulder" I was trying to navigate for a good 7 miles. Here's a closer look:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LIJaVACOq-mWt9Huclx8X0bWrI4AttuyAX0PsLf6mHB28zve7J0BuGNcdpsZWTaQ3tSvX87kBVw8sLapfn4dgkWABTu8Zvl317HcY9dYCWE5AEoPM-BNhhIyWhyphenhyphenyIfv3pjKh-Ntehayl/s640/blogger-image--606999739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LIJaVACOq-mWt9Huclx8X0bWrI4AttuyAX0PsLf6mHB28zve7J0BuGNcdpsZWTaQ3tSvX87kBVw8sLapfn4dgkWABTu8Zvl317HcY9dYCWE5AEoPM-BNhhIyWhyphenhyphenyIfv3pjKh-Ntehayl/s640/blogger-image--606999739.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This was getting way too hairy. I only had a few inches of asphalt to work with and no margin of error with the steady stream of trucks flying by in both directions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I looked back for a gap in the traffic and then sprinted hard for the top of the hill. "Phew!" Made it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My reward for surviving this third, narrow, crucible, was a gorgeous overlook of Lake Cuyamaca:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEzDt3b-FrPVqP3Hi1EtXbcrt2wPC6RN-Xq2HDtQujrVkVSThhFDTJ-TPwfbD7EzHw94Aa2g1p3sa49Ui1wPMdh-Twxd1FhFNNYHnjpDXoVwK5syEYKVenLerWOZN83JuA4t2Cif1C5tL/s640/blogger-image-448480469.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEzDt3b-FrPVqP3Hi1EtXbcrt2wPC6RN-Xq2HDtQujrVkVSThhFDTJ-TPwfbD7EzHw94Aa2g1p3sa49Ui1wPMdh-Twxd1FhFNNYHnjpDXoVwK5syEYKVenLerWOZN83JuA4t2Cif1C5tL/s400/blogger-image-448480469.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Frankly, this is one of my favorite pictures that I've ever taken of my bike. Worth risking my life for? Umm, no -- but cool nonetheless . . .</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">About a half mile further was the turnoff into Lake Cuyamaca State Park. I decided to pull in, hit the General Store and re-group. I used Google Maps to look at the satellite images of the rest of the trek up to the pass, and it didn't look like the road got any better. The nice lady at the store backed up my visual observation, saying she thought it was crazy for anybody to bike this side of the pass. That did it. I was only 14 miles from Santa Barbara, and had biked 20 miles north of it along the coast on other visits, so had already crossed the line, so-to-speak, when it comes to covering the whole Cali coast. I was looking forward to the challenge of the 7 mile climb up San Marcos Pass and thrilling descent to follow, but with all the re-directed trucks, it just wasn't worth taking the risk. Plus, I could always climb Old San Marcos Pass Road on the ocean side and get a better experience without the crazy traffic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, I swallowed my pride and called Uber. Not easy using the app to locate a vehicle big enough to accommodate me and my bike, but after a couple of dozen attempts, I managed to get, Mike, and his Toyota Sequoia. He showed up in about half an hour and, a cyclist himself (who does Tour de France Fantasy with his club!), he reinforced my decision. He said he and his club never went over the pass -- they'd climb the old road and cruise back down to Santa Barbara, but said the 154 to Solvang was avoided by even expert cyclists. Nice to learn now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mike had me in downtown Santa Barbara in about 20 minutes where he dropped me at one of my favorite restaurants on the planet - The Palace - which may have the best Cajun cuisine west of Louisiana. Their blackened filet-mignon with crawfish-laden pontchartrain sauce is heaven on earth -- especially for a somewhat defeated Bikeist.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With a little more time to kill before my train, it was off to Figueroa Mountain Brewing's Santa Barbara Tasting Room - practically across the street from the station. More solace . . . </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then it was the long eight hour journey back to San Diego wherein I had plenty of time to stew about the bum steer the Pacific Coast Biking "bible" had given me --</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The authors had actually strongly recommended leaving the coast to bike through wine country to Santa Barbara, so I was a little bit peeved about following their advice so blindly. With time to kill, and a convenient wi-fi connection on the train, I decided to try to contact the authors to register my complaint. Within a few minutes, I had found a website for Tom Kirkendall's photo studio in Washington, which had an e-mail address. So, I, politely e-mailed my story of the day's fiasco to Tom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To my great surprise, he e-mailed me back within minutes! Cool. He apologized, saying that, if he did a new edition of the book, he intended to take out that recommendation. Apparently, back in the day, he used to bike over the pass from Santa Barbara to get pastries and bike back - no problem. Today, though, the traffic has gotten too constant for cars and bikes to share the route.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I shared the blog with Tom, and he actually, seriously, suggested that I consider taking on the writing of the next edition. No kidding! He even said he'd put in a good word with the publishers! Not sure if I could swing it with the whole day job thing of making the planet safe for freedom-loving bikeists (and even non-bikeists) everywhere, but I have had so many friends encourage me to take up travel writing, that I might just give it a shot. I plan on spending parts of the next two summers completing the route through Washington and Oregon anyway, so it might just be possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">See Mr. Google! I told you this blog would make me rich -- even if you don't want to share any of the massive profits my blog is surely bringing you. I practically prop up the entire Google enterprise, and what do I get for it? Well, I guess I do get the adoration of my loyal fan base, which, is, of course -- priceless. I could still use a few extra bucks, though -- the $50 a pop from The Reader is nice, but it isn't exactly going to put my little bikeists through college.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, it looks like the Bikeist may actually be poised for the big-time. May need to jazz up the title a bit, though. How about, instead of "Bicycling the Pacific Coast," we call it "The Bikeist Devours the Pacific Coast (Except for 7 Harrowing Miles of the 154)." Catchy, right? Can't wait to pitch it to my new publisher! Thanks, Tom!</span></div>
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The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-72833236197565509302014-11-29T10:37:00.001-08:002014-11-29T10:37:28.953-08:00What A Turkey!He seems to be thinking about it . . .<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1P7x-Hmh53KgH2TCPlhg_2TqXV0PW3gJ6GD_SdrV2x9UCUjB1tiLjgaqGywcnwLbpXh2NOdbxU1DZ5QA6bbyzrj1lWM9E17A-zs-_yETZAtJCT-MvWHFNkhgs5aMHnv1TqW7qr7A73df/s640/blogger-image--600995750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1P7x-Hmh53KgH2TCPlhg_2TqXV0PW3gJ6GD_SdrV2x9UCUjB1tiLjgaqGywcnwLbpXh2NOdbxU1DZ5QA6bbyzrj1lWM9E17A-zs-_yETZAtJCT-MvWHFNkhgs5aMHnv1TqW7qr7A73df/s640/blogger-image--600995750.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Wonder if he managed to make his escape! Happy Thanksgiving to bikeists everywhere, even you turkeys. The Bikeist will be back next week with the dramatic conclusion of the SLO to Santa Barbara ride . . .</div><div><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-50554019135815688172014-11-20T08:48:00.001-08:002014-11-20T08:48:43.740-08:00From SLO To Oblivion In 100 Miles<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome to Part II of my epic (they're all epic aren't they?) journey from San Luis Obispo to Santa Barbara - nearly completing my quest to bike every mile of the California coast. When I last left you, dear readers, I had just rescued an elderly damsel in distress from her precarious perch in a "Youth" Hostel bunkbed. I was out the door and on my bike and zipping past the Amtrak station mere minutes later, soon reuniting with my old friends, the PCH and the Pacific Coast Bike Route (often, but not always, one in the same). Of course, on this, particular, quest, my old friends are forever fresh and new since every pedal-stroke introduces me to an as-of-yet never before biked (by me) stretch of pavement. SLO seemed to be just waking up as I biked through the morning twilight, cars (and bikes) becoming more numerous as the minutes and miles passed and teachers, students, and other locals headed off to classes and jobs. Didn't they all just wish they could be as free as I was to just spend the day in the saddle?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before I knew it, SLO was behind me and I was back along the coast, coming into North Pismo Beach. Couldn't resist just one more double-shot of espresso as I passed this great little coffee shop overlooking the ocean:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then it was steady pedaling through the quaint, funky, town that is Pismo followed by a morning traversing farm fields that reminded me a lot of biking through Ventura County -- long flat stretches through coastal farmland. These stretches had a couple of climbs built in, though -- one a short, but steep climb from the fields back to the coast and a stretch of massive sand dunes. The 1 then headed back inland and eventually merged with the 135 near the tiny town of Orcutt with faster traffic, but a wide shoulder and an awesome tail-wind. I was hitting 30 mph without having to kill myself! Before long, though, it was the only real climb of the day -- two miles of switch-backs through a pass leading to a longer, fast descent to the crummy town of Lompoc -- a series of fast food restaurants seemingly filled with impatient drivers who acted as though they'd never seen a bicycle before. Really didn't like the vibe here -- filled my water bottles at a McDonalds and pedaled on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Luckily, the best part of the ride awaited -- 20 miles on Rte 246 through the rolling hills of Central California wine country. With that great tail-wind still with me, I could imagine the peloton around me as we whizzed past the vineyards on the Tour of California. Always nice to get to the 60 mile point of an 80 mile ride and feel a surge of power (even if it's the wind providing the power).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before I knew it, I was at mile 80 and at my destination for the night, Buellton -- home to many of the areas wineries, but, of even more interest to me, two of the most prominent breweries. Before getting to my hotel for the night, I pulled into Figueroa Mountain Brewing Company, which is one of the few breweries north of Oceanside (besides Russian River, of course, and Lagunitas) making beer on a par with San Diego's best. The Lizard's Mouth is tremendous -- and they also make an incredible saison. On top of that, their head brewer IS The Dude!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's right, not A Dude, but THE Dude! He was moving around too much for me to get a live picture, but he looks just like he does in the above, posed, shot. Too cool! Unfortunately, the brewery was a week away from opening its long-awaited kitchen, but it was still a great place to end a long ride -- with a nice beer garden out front and lots of cool hop-heads inside and out. Plus, it would have been a shame to ruin my appetite before hitting brewery #2 later on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next, it was off to the Comfort Inn, chosen for its proximity to Brewery #2 and the fact it had washers and dryers (crucial to my mode of travel). After a much needed and deserved shower, I popped the day's bike gear into the wash (to ensure dry clothes to change into at the end of the next day's ride) and headed across a bridge crossing the 101 to the Firestone Brewpub and Tasting Room - an enormous beer hall, with gourmet food and pub grub, reminiscent of the Stone Bistro (minus the gardens) in Escondido. The carne asada nachos were definitely the thing to get and I had a great evening watching Monday Night Football and discussing the California beer scene (as a whole) with the regulars at the bar. Heaven. Must have been my reward for rescuing that little old lady!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Looks like I pretty much spent all my karma in one shot, though, as the next day turned out to be quite the disaster. I rose before the sun again (as usual) and partook of the waffle-maker at the complimentary lobby breakfast (love those things!). When light came, I headed back down to the 246 and started biking straight into this view:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Wow, I'm squinting again just looking into the picture -- as were all the drivers coming up behind me -- not good. I've heard too many stories about cyclists getting nailed by cars during early morning commutes into rising suns that made them invisible. So, I pulled off and hung in a coffee shop for about an hour, until the sun didn't seem to be directly ahead of those of us traveling east. No big deal, but not a good sign for what lay ahead . . .</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(End of Part II -- Next: What lay ahead)</span></div>
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The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-35537555722905413952014-11-13T08:09:00.000-08:002014-12-01T12:28:23.063-08:00Two Brazilians, A Bunk-Bed, And An OctogenarianI love just about everything about biking. I love that I ride every day. I love riding to work (when I'm not getting hassled by driveists, that is). I love my long Saturday morning rides. I love the social rides I do with friends around the bay and the island. What I absolutely love the most, though, are my multi-day bike adventures. I never feel more alive than when its me and my bike and hundreds of miles to traverse by ourselves in some place I've never biked before. Just thinking about the sheer freedom and escape of it gives me an instant sense of giddiness.<br />
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Thus, I must have been the happiest man in San Diego two Sundays ago, as I got up early, hopped on my pre-loaded bike, and pedaled off to catch the bus right outside the base to take me over the Coronado Bay Bridge to begin my train trek north to knock out one of the last two segments I need to complete in order to have biked the entire California coast, north to south. I hopped off the bus and retrieved my bike from the front rack at 12th and Imperial (where the atmosphere seems to take on more and more of a "Mad Max" feel daily), and headed straight for Santa Fe Station where my "smart" phone said I could catch a the Surfliner all the way to San Luis Obispo (SLO). To my dismay, though, I learned that all tracks between San Diego and Oceanside were down for maintenance. Some smart phone.<br />
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Not too big a problem, though. For a mere extra $16, Amtrak let me take their bus shuttle from the station to Oceanside, with my bike stowed below. Crisis averted. I even had some time to kill before the train, giving me time to check out Bagby Beer Co., the super-cool new place started by the legendary Pizza Port brewer. With large open-air windows, a courtyard, roof-top seating, awesome food and a tremendous beer selection, it did not disappoint. Finally, a place to wait for the train in Oceanside where I don't feel like I'm about to get a cue-stick smashed over my head, stabbed, or eaten alive by a pit-bull (or all three).<br />
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After a quick lunch, it was a mere 9 hour ride from Oceanside to SLO. Thank God the train had wi-fi and I had my Kindle!<br />
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Got to SLO a little after 8:30 and headed straight to the Hostel that was, conveniently, just a couple of blocks from the Amtrak station. Great Hostel! Housed in a beautiful old Victorian. it was clean, well-run, and, best of all, cheap! Just $16 a bunk, but I paid a little more to have the privacy of my own (extremely small room).<br />
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As I was checking in, two young women from Brazil came in right after me. They had taken the same train up with me (starting in LA where they had just landed that morning). We all must have been starving, because a mere couple of minutes later, the three of us had stowed our stuff and were heading out the door to go find Higuera and its long stretch of eateries. We walked together (I sensed that they found some comfort in walking along in a strange country with the only familiar face to them - besides the dude who had checked us in), chatting along the way. Before we knew it, we had reached my desired destination -- the Firestone Grill, home of a famously succulent tri-tip sandwich. My new Brazilian friends weren't enticed by the prospect of eating beef sandwiches in a student hang-out, so we bid each other adieu as I hungrily scurried into Firestone to devour one of the most delicious sandwiches I've ever had. Yum!<br />
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After dinner, I walked around downtown a bit (to get out the kinks and kick-start digestion) and loved everything I saw. I've been through SLO a few times now, and have loved my brief encounters each time. Next time I MUST stay for a bit and really get to know it. Then, it was straight to bed, so I could be ready for an early start Monday morning as I set out south to Santa Barbara.<br />
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I slept like a rock, rising an hour before sunrise to make sure I could get properly caffeinated before heading out. So, it was back over to Higuera where I hit Black Horse Espresso and Bakery for a "Keith Richards" (large coffee with two shots of espresso) and a delicious sausage and cheese croissant. Awesome start to the day. Twilight was just starting to emerge on my walk back, triggering the wonderful adrenaline triggered butterflies I get at the start of any big ride. So exciting! Soon after I got back to my room, though, and as I began to secure my saddle-bag I heard a soft knock on my door. I answered it immediately, finding one of the Brazilian women I had met the night before outside in her long night-gown. She had a look of mild concern on her face and asked if I could come upstairs to help a lady who was "stuck." When I asked what she meant she just waved to me to follow, which I did. We climbed the stairs to the women's bunk-room where her friend was waiting by the door. I followed them both into the room where there was a little old lady in the top of one of the bunks with her lower legs dangling over the metal railing designed to keep sleepers from falling out. Unfortunately, in her case, it prevented her from exiting the bed at all under her own power. She was smiling, and promptly reported that she was 82 and had no strength left in her legs after two knee replacements. When I asked how she managed to get up into the top bunk, she said she had climbed the ladder slowly and just fallen into the bed. I asked how her arms and arm sockets were and she said they were fine. So, I talked her through the game-plan: I would lift her (like a baby) by her arm-pits over the railing, and she would then lean forward, put her arms around my neck and let me slowly lower her to the floor. I then got into place, counted to three and, flat-footed, easily lifted her (wow, was she light) over the railing after which she clutched me as I carefully lowered her while we were chest-to-chest. Once she was safely, two-feet-on-the-ground, she looked up, smiled, and proclaimed "ooh, that was actually pretty nice!" The two Brazilians thought that was quite funny, and I began to suspect that this might not have been the first time this little old lady had needed "rescuing" from a bunk-bed. I then excused myself (after accepting the thanks of all concerned), headed back down stairs, grabbed my bike and headed out the door thrilled that I was starting my trip with such a tremendous surplus of good karma. Apparently, it was only enough for one, glorious day, though, but more about that in Part II!<br />
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(End of Part I of SLO to Santa Barbara . . .)</div>
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The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-78355328849963844592014-11-06T06:15:00.000-08:002014-11-06T06:15:32.873-08:00The Single Best Thing That Has Ever Happened In The History Of Humankind<span style="font-size: large;">I fully intended to tell you all the details of my epic, heroic, journey from San Luis Obispo to Santa Barbara, but something so awesome, so momentous, so life-affirming happened yesterday that the story of the ride will have to wait. As a teaser, though, I will reveal only that the first morning of the journey began with two Brazilian girls, a bunk-bed and an octogenarian. Really.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But yesterday far surpassed that (really) and, perhaps, any experience I may ever again have on a bicycle. To set the scene (and further enhance the grand irony and poetic justice of yesterday's ride), I recommend you revisit my recent classic post, appropriately entitled <a href="http://sdbikeist.blogspot.com/2014/10/duh.html" target="_blank">"Duh . . ."</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome back. As you will now remember, in that post, I provided a graphic illustration of the correct way for a bikeist to traverse an intersection:</span><br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;">So, just as described in "Duh . . . ," I once again left my driveway on base here and headed down the narrow, two lane road to my office. As usual, I got caught at the light just after "Flag Circle," so I got in line behind the waiting cars and proceeded straight through the intersection as depicted above. I was last in line, so there were no issues getting through the intersection. Right after the intersection, the road widens to accommodate two narrow lanes in each direction (which one might think would be good for bikes, since cars now have plenty of room to pass if they wish - even though I'm traveling pretty close to the 25 mph speed limit at this point). About 50 yards after the intersection, I heard a car approaching from behind, so I glanced over my left shoulder to see that it was alone, with no other cars coming behind it in the left (passing) lane. Having cleared the intersection, I had moved to the right and hadn't taken the lane, knowing that the car behind could safely pass me leaving plenty of room -- except he didn't. Rather than change lanes (or at least partially cross the dotted line), the young driver of this rusty, late 80's Mustang, decided to keep all four wheels decidedly in the same lane we were both occupying. With no particular haste, he passed me within inches of my left elbow and pedal, slowly drifting toward rather than away from me. I, of course, screamed and gesticulated, but he lingered, without budging. Once he was clear of me, he started to give a sarcastic wave, when all of a sudden we both heard the short, loud "BWOOOO!!" of a police car siren right behind us. I looked back to see two, smiling base police officers with their lights going. I, happily, pulled aside as they accelerated to pull over my buddy in the Mustang. I've got to tell you, that, along with my wedding day and the day I became a dad, this may have been the happiest moment I have had in my entire life. Combined with the adrenaline of the altercation, I was in a state of complete ecstasy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, I started pedaling again, and, as I passed the police cruiser, I asked "Did you see all that?" The DoD cop in the driver's seat nodded his head and said "We're about to have a little talk with your friend there." Giddy, I pedaled on, seeing that the knucklehead's window was open. As I passed, I simply said "That's what you get, bro" to the schlumpf at the wheel. He muttered a defeated, disingenuous "sorry," to which I retorted "no, you're not - you're just sorry you got caught" as I pedaled on with a giant shit-eating grin (the same one I'm sure I'm still sporting a day later) on my face.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know what you're thinking -- "and then you woke up from your wet dream, Bikeist." Am I right? I know this sounds too good to be true, but it is 100% accurate, true, valid, authentic, real, etc.! Come on, if I was making this up, I would have, at least, come up with something more clever and witty to have shouted in the perpetrator's window as I triumphantly biked by.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Given all the similar situations I have endured over the years, with no such cathartic validation, I'm almost having a hard time believing it myself -- especially on the heels of my recent post complaining about exactly the same sort of stupid driveist behavior. These sorts of things don't happen in real life, do they? It reminds me of the scene in "Annie Hall," where Woody Allen's character is trapped on a line having to suffer through the pedantic rambling of a know-it-all who claims to understand the meaning of a film he's explicating. When Woody's character disagrees with him, the blow-hard recites his academic credentials, after which Woody pulls out (from off-camera) the actual director of the film who sides with Woody and tells the other guy that he doesn't understand his work at all. Woody then addresses the audience directly through the "fourth wall" and says "If life were only like this . . ." Well, Woody, sometimes it is!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Epilogue: When I got to work, I practically floated up the stairs carrying my bike, and anxiously told anybody and everybody within earshot my story. Knowing me, and my bikeist ways, my co-workers were thrilled for me, but one asked a very good question raising my only regret about the entire incident: "Did you get a picture?" Ooh! What an opportunity I had. With my iPhone waiting trustily in my bento box on my top tube, I could have so easily stopped and caught a picture of the flashing lights and the stupid look on my tormenters face if I had thought of it. Despite my glee, though, my instincts had told me to disengage while I was ahead and not do anything to turn the cops against me. So, perhaps it was better to simply just not mess with perfection. And perfection it was . . .</span><br />
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<br />The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-22752201130173341972014-10-31T23:54:00.001-07:002014-10-31T23:54:54.273-07:00Unibike Returns!Back by popular demand!<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN9jmL352pClM79HQUH3kl5fc4bc9g4xcK88LOUMTxockFYT4wHik0jebN5ahi7qrpgyp7rqvqGVj64G-UICJQcggVD2XIvHlGIQd4ECDqovRWFtBm01-_IMv6aDgpmTb0hBOcPc9GJOyK/s640/blogger-image--477546096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN9jmL352pClM79HQUH3kl5fc4bc9g4xcK88LOUMTxockFYT4wHik0jebN5ahi7qrpgyp7rqvqGVj64G-UICJQcggVD2XIvHlGIQd4ECDqovRWFtBm01-_IMv6aDgpmTb0hBOcPc9GJOyK/s640/blogger-image--477546096.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Guess I might as well make this an annual tradition . . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-52612057468391877462014-10-28T08:26:00.001-07:002014-10-28T08:26:21.916-07:00Squinting . . .Amazing ride from SLO to Buellton yesterday. Tried to set out early this morning, but this is the view heading out of town, due East on Rte. 246. Think I'll wait for the sun to get a bit higher --<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSaPzOk76dwb009f_Jtk_3uFvc6m2sao5ka8z8FJfyaQv-avWiIWUFfDn-8tpCDi0sraxt1Y1kg4Grn5QKVIhDHS2Li8Su3fq9XSvWoAmn4ueP5ffwe_UcOwiaFO-8kfA4kXoRXtjbaBn/s640/blogger-image--1397878902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSaPzOk76dwb009f_Jtk_3uFvc6m2sao5ka8z8FJfyaQv-avWiIWUFfDn-8tpCDi0sraxt1Y1kg4Grn5QKVIhDHS2Li8Su3fq9XSvWoAmn4ueP5ffwe_UcOwiaFO-8kfA4kXoRXtjbaBn/s640/blogger-image--1397878902.jpg"></a></div><br></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-86622554674250754042014-10-27T06:47:00.001-07:002014-10-27T06:47:03.144-07:00Here We Go . . .This is where the 10+ hour journey to SLO by bus to bus (thanks to a closed rail line) to train began yesterday. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2X_OVMH3W6JP9cNuOpbx832WSI9lBFXEx7zddnTJdc0OFLvO-PwpF9H-C7C47iUyPhCKuzepPB4FLi9BRKZu2R9FbGx06ByhloHcs6Q-ipoUYwKooRNHDo91xuR9tkmKgbJPEoOVBbkG/s640/blogger-image--1863052706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2X_OVMH3W6JP9cNuOpbx832WSI9lBFXEx7zddnTJdc0OFLvO-PwpF9H-C7C47iUyPhCKuzepPB4FLi9BRKZu2R9FbGx06ByhloHcs6Q-ipoUYwKooRNHDo91xuR9tkmKgbJPEoOVBbkG/s640/blogger-image--1863052706.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Now, I'm sitting at Black Horse Espresso in SLO, waiting for the sun to rise so I can start pedaling south. More to come . . .</div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-44271649563924425472014-10-15T22:39:00.003-07:002014-10-16T15:30:33.637-07:00The Coast Beckons!Any of you who have already read my complete (awe-inspiring) "bikeography" are already familiar with my quest to bike every mile of the U.S. Pacific Coast sometime before I'm too old and decrepit to pedal anymore. I knocked out one of the largest chunks last summer when I biked from the CA/Oregon border to San Fran - majestically finishing six days on the bike by crossing the Golden Gate. Next summer I hope to do the entire Oregon Coast, but I still have two stretches of California that need to be tackled -- both of which I should easily be able to get done in separate weekends.<br>
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First is San Fran to Monterey:<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrEXidjXPR_GFpiwH34Uf-3iAvSji0_CKkmDC4RuNNHpoGn5WGtlKO3Un2BJN6inlRPNJi1eUUl_BxQxcOqWpQzBVK0wRz7bFw436otGssSyIMVFkqDBVcZ6w1ELOPSQvLnGLqd_wQOLX/s1600/sf+to+monterey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWrEXidjXPR_GFpiwH34Uf-3iAvSji0_CKkmDC4RuNNHpoGn5WGtlKO3Un2BJN6inlRPNJi1eUUl_BxQxcOqWpQzBVK0wRz7bFw436otGssSyIMVFkqDBVcZ6w1ELOPSQvLnGLqd_wQOLX/s1600/sf+to+monterey.jpg" height="320" width="257"></a></div>
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This one was worth saving -- one of the prettiest stretches of coast anywhere, but not nearly as challenging as Big Sur or NorCal. I might just save this one for very last, depending upon how things play out in the coming weeks/months.<br>
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Next is San Luis Obispo (SLO), where I ended my Big Sur adventure, to Santa Barbara:<br>
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This will take me through some of the best road-biking terrain in the U.S. -- where pros train and the Tour of California always traverses. Following the coast here would mean long stretches on the 101, so I'm more likely to take the advice of the Pacific Coast biking "bible" and take the inland route (still paralleling the coast, so it still counts!)<br>
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For those of you who have forgotten what the "bible" looks like, here it is:<br>
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Get it -- you won't regret it!<br>
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While I love biking in and around San Diego, there is just something about getting out of your element that enhances the adventure factor in biking. After focusing upon changing houses and jobs this summer, I am antsy to get back out on the road. With my birthday coming up, I think I'm going to make one of these rides my present to myself. The other can be my Christmas present. Either way, the Bikeist vows here to have completed the California Coast by January 1st -- a late in the old year resolution!<br>
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And you, my lucky readers, get to tag along for the ride as I share all the details. You must be so excited! Stay tuned as I get tuned up in the next couple of weeks . . .The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-85071914747582445712014-10-06T18:51:00.001-07:002014-10-06T19:53:26.926-07:00Duh . . .As the more loyal pockets of my fan-base are already well aware, I traded in my "26 Miles Around the Bay Every Day" commute for a much less strenuous 1.5 miles each way from my new house on base to my office, which happens to be on the same street. Guess which commute I consider to be more dangerous?<div><br></div><div>Go ahead. Think about it for a little while. Mull it over. Weigh the probabilities and endless permutations. </div><div><br></div><div>Give up?</div><div><br></div><div>Ok, I'll tell, I'll tell-- it's the shorter one!</div><div><br></div><div>I know! Mind-blowing, right? </div><div><br></div><div>Who'd've guessed?</div><div><br></div><div>You'd think that the 26 miles each and every day would expose one to far less danger, but my old commute followed the Bayshore Bikeway, which has good shoulders, designated lanes, and separated paths almost the entire way around the bay.</div><div><br></div><div>Meanwhile, my current commute takes me on a narrow, two-laned road with no shoulder or bike-lane that turns into a four lane road with even narrower lanes and, again, no shoulder or lane. Generally, though, it seems pretty safe. It starts in my residential neighborhood, has a 25 mph speed-limit throughout, and plenty of traffic lights. By and large, the Sailors and government employees who traverse it in the morning are attentive and courteous. However, there are always a few knuckleheads in every group who ruin it for everybody -- particularly us bikeists.</div><div><br></div><div>The narrow lanes make it impossible for a car and bike to travel next to each other within the lane while maintaining three feet of separation (or one foot, really). So, attentive drivers with a little common sense wait for a gap in on-coming traffic to pass me on the two-lane portion and carefully change to the left lane in the four-lane portion. No big deal.</div><div><br></div><div>But, then there are the knuckleheads -- the ones who are always driving like they have a delivering mother in the back seat who try to pinch me by passing within the narrow lane despite on-coming traffic or a second car occupying the passing lane. Hate those guys!</div><div><br></div><div>The obvious solution to this problem is for me to "take the lane" as the law allows in areas where cars and bikes can't travel abreast with three feet of separation. The problem, though, is that doing so makes knuckleheads extremely angry. Like their medieval and cro-magnon forebearers, they get angry at that which they simply can't understand due to their profound ignorance.</div><div><br></div><div>This phenomenon played it out twice in as many days for your beloved Bikeist this week -- two different intersections, two different knuckleheads, same, exact, ignorance. It went exactly like this (except I may have missed a few "duhs"):</div><div><br></div><div>(1) <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Bikeist innocently pulls up to a red light, stopping in the middle of the lane (especially important at intersections to allow driveists to go right on red, and, more importantly, to ensure that right-turning traffic doesn't "t-bone" you as you proceed straight through the intersection when the light turns green.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">(2) Light turns green. As Bikeist promptly begins his first pedal-stroke, knucklehead in red Mitsubishi (of course) lays on horn.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">(3) Bikeist simply stops in his tracks. Turns around and throws hands in air, making a "what could possibly be the problem" gesture.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(4) Knucklehead guns it, passing Bikeist in opposing lane, yelling "Uh, duh, get to the right!" As he blows by.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(5) Bikeist catches him at stop sign as he's waiting in line to make a left turn -- asks knucklehead if he'd like to discuss the rules of the road.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(6) Knucklehead: "Duh, the law says you have to keep right all the time, duh!"</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(7) Bikeist: "That's not true."</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(8) Knucklehead: "Duh, it is -- want me to call Security right now, duh?!"</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(9) Bikeist: "No need to go and do that, I'm a lawyer and well familiar with the law -- there are places where a rider has to move to the middle of the road."</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(10) Knucklehead: (even more flustered) "Umm, duh, umm -- NO! You ALWAYS have to stay all the way to the right, duh! I'm calling Security."</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(11) Bikeist: pedals off, shaking his head wondering if there is any hope, at all, for humanity.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(12) Fast-forward one day, substitute "Get right asshole" for the horn -- pretty much the same dialogue and outcome with knucklehead #2.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">These incidents are fine examples of how useless the "three foot law" (or any bike law for that matter ) is without education of the people in the multi-ton vehicles. Where was my magical, protected, three foot bubble of safety? Wish I had printed copies of this graphic to hand to those knuckleheads:</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvIm9YO9F3MsFBw2AvUEb2Gp0U4ijGRFK7QY5-dmAX5jh1LYm5WnpI_jENdvyT8acS1qpzPfNl8erWmZbNZuy6UyXQ6uF70M53AUTjKhzUocE43-EZ2JTM4iTpQDxel789lbIZ-pzbPQm/s640/blogger-image-1643354581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvIm9YO9F3MsFBw2AvUEb2Gp0U4ijGRFK7QY5-dmAX5jh1LYm5WnpI_jENdvyT8acS1qpzPfNl8erWmZbNZuy6UyXQ6uF70M53AUTjKhzUocE43-EZ2JTM4iTpQDxel789lbIZ-pzbPQm/s640/blogger-image-1643354581.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Maybe I can have it printed onto the back of a t-shirt! No means no driveists! Staying to the right as I enter an intersection puts me in the path (and blind spot) of right-turning cars. The "safe" area is in the center of the lane, where I'm easily seen and can move through the intersection with the flow of traffic. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Do I, typically, move to the right when I get through the intersection to let cars pass. Yes. But, neither of the knuckleheads I encountered this week gave me a chance to do so before freaking out.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Key takeaways:</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(1) Let's try to be civil out there people -- no need to scare the crap out of a poor innocent Bikeist by laying on your horn when we're all starting from a dead stop. Relax and don't let your ignorance and/or in-breeding get the best of you.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">(2) "Duh is as duh does." Watch your six out there bikeists -- despite laws passed to supposedly protect us, some driveists are simply uneducable -- always anticipate the knucklehead --</font></div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4121271179733792684.post-1397678822151349262014-09-29T21:24:00.001-07:002014-09-29T21:31:22.169-07:00Tour de Fat DiegoWere you there this Saturday oh bikeist denizens? The multi-various bike tribes of San Diego converged upon Golden Hill Park for this year's iteration of New Belgium Brewing Company's touring carnival, the "Tour de Fat," celebrating two of our favorite things: bikes and beer. And what a scene it was!<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3CP7mhWoQ8ecZC4XyrBA-1YbKoRgQyiWFJOUjnnZwuzf_jVJikWfM8ffMq56VI9S_2vbkKVDQH2xKIgBCeV8onqSvIcxlmqJeR7fErBURAoB-u36K-5Ai6yUE9hTi_r7Po6IL9qey9LB/s640/blogger-image--1613686325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3CP7mhWoQ8ecZC4XyrBA-1YbKoRgQyiWFJOUjnnZwuzf_jVJikWfM8ffMq56VI9S_2vbkKVDQH2xKIgBCeV8onqSvIcxlmqJeR7fErBURAoB-u36K-5Ai6yUE9hTi_r7Po6IL9qey9LB/s640/blogger-image--1613686325.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It all kicked off at 11 am as thousands of bikeists set off on a two mile, costumed, slow-motion, bike parade through Golden Hill and North Park. Every imaginable type of bike and rider was represented: cyclists (mostly incognito on their back-up beater bikes, but their spandex gave them away), hipsters (on fixies, of course), low-riders (complete with bike-gang style jackets), collectors (spotted at least 2 bikes dating from the 1930's), once-a-year-riders (especially the rider who managed to crash within the first 200 yards), exhibitionists, and drinkers (perhaps the largest group represented). Bikeists all, though, for embracing the pure bike joy of the event.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Once the arduous course was completed, the kegs were tapped and the party got rolling. Inexpensive New Belgium beer flowed, with proceeds going to support bike organizations in San Diego. On display were various forms of bike sculptures:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiht-r3mEFBZ49zgezYq6mCI-Z9MWWh6sJ1CZfZWzOP02E-LYMMcF_NRHc17rDJA2gZVU-QTq_1yiCBM0z-BlNQZ9NCQUq5xBh992FIDdWZqf0wh-9fOkR0197KgcR0Qumng38N5he31t_H/s640/blogger-image-1820242189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiht-r3mEFBZ49zgezYq6mCI-Z9MWWh6sJ1CZfZWzOP02E-LYMMcF_NRHc17rDJA2gZVU-QTq_1yiCBM0z-BlNQZ9NCQUq5xBh992FIDdWZqf0wh-9fOkR0197KgcR0Qumng38N5he31t_H/s640/blogger-image-1820242189.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlpxTLhjWZPJvLN0QDJAKYOUMVexsi7H9mW51AHu9CmC2RvWC6uHCkianhhocF7O0hET_GsOa9fAFxySjXHlNsOByYGwWM0OzffL3dknDzOYMCGSQPRR1IuxKdgNCOp06potJjk6k3dDub/s640/blogger-image-233612676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlpxTLhjWZPJvLN0QDJAKYOUMVexsi7H9mW51AHu9CmC2RvWC6uHCkianhhocF7O0hET_GsOa9fAFxySjXHlNsOByYGwWM0OzffL3dknDzOYMCGSQPRR1IuxKdgNCOp06potJjk6k3dDub/s640/blogger-image-233612676.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">-- and -- best of all -- there was the "bike corral" filled with various bike creations that anybody could take for a spin. This one was my very favorite:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEIfVf0c_X-S9hMVZLsO9qptG8qORZ-vmF9dr-OMJz1Qz-jomM5w9047jkLQWwErOKGd_RsVtlkvhlEVog3S8Y-g5BRZSA6OTiuNd5KuoAlzahIjpznEuxo2F0IMCZcfaTGe8YAtoKBd5/s640/blogger-image-1403805275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEIfVf0c_X-S9hMVZLsO9qptG8qORZ-vmF9dr-OMJz1Qz-jomM5w9047jkLQWwErOKGd_RsVtlkvhlEVog3S8Y-g5BRZSA6OTiuNd5KuoAlzahIjpznEuxo2F0IMCZcfaTGe8YAtoKBd5/s640/blogger-image-1403805275.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">How cool is that? It actually worked!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Loved this one as well:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcy98polRp8s9XzRYiJESA5598YoMnCfHyVRFt24Ov1sJ4jH6QpNvzzTc6sCOSSGCA5gob6OTz29oLAYf05ooTq-fLX78nHZ-udw373aYsBa5MqkIqjm9aOmmjo7q4CagJ69JEZKm1J4B/s640/blogger-image-1279140326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYcy98polRp8s9XzRYiJESA5598YoMnCfHyVRFt24Ov1sJ4jH6QpNvzzTc6sCOSSGCA5gob6OTz29oLAYf05ooTq-fLX78nHZ-udw373aYsBa5MqkIqjm9aOmmjo7q4CagJ69JEZKm1J4B/s640/blogger-image-1279140326.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I actually saw three brave (braver than me, that's for sure) souls get it going.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Add in several stages with live music, a super-competitive "slow-bike" race, and a line almost the length of the park for new release beers (this is San Diego, right?) and you have bike and beer nirvana.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Best of all, though, were the high-quality people drawn to this huge bike and beer attractive nuisance. No surprise there, of course when you blend my favorite things: bikes, beer, and San Diego -- all things that are associated with laid-back, cool people. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The event was as close to perfect as can be -- my only criticism is that we have to rely upon a Colorado brewer to bring us all this bike and craft beer goodness. You hear me Stone? Ballast Point? Blind Lady, isn't that a bikeist on your house brew?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Come on, San Diego brewers, this guy shouldn't have to wait a whole year to pull out this get-up again!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEind-XFigMbW6lG41JWMOFP4KSf-ZfiEq8OtC0yz_TtRt2W4cfTYaP98E53E0dcL1UHvUemAdUBblZHX7QvHRA-uXQlnckMqvYQAEApbqa4iHq0tR_w1gwHrGDfB1B0AiBAvX2_PWqLHxXX/s640/blogger-image-101589307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEind-XFigMbW6lG41JWMOFP4KSf-ZfiEq8OtC0yz_TtRt2W4cfTYaP98E53E0dcL1UHvUemAdUBblZHX7QvHRA-uXQlnckMqvYQAEApbqa4iHq0tR_w1gwHrGDfB1B0AiBAvX2_PWqLHxXX/s640/blogger-image-101589307.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Kind of took the whole "fat" thing a little bit too literally, don't you think?</div>The San Diego Bikeisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469160598496858409noreply@blogger.com2