Let's talk rain gear

The hardest days to skip riding to work in a car (... on a heated seat... with air conditioning... and windshield wipers) are rainy days. It isn't as bad when you think you can race the storm and maybe it rains while you are out. Those days when you walk out knowing that you are going to be sweating and shivering all at once are hard.

She'll Decide When She's Ready

I have long suffered my daughter's indifference towards bikes. Her third birthday party was a bike party, you know, because I planned it. All the kids brought their bikes and rode around in circles at the park. It was a great opportunity for everyone learn osmotically - big hit.

She loved her balance bike. Turns out, she loved it because it was pink. And a thing. To be looked at. Not. To. Be. Ridden.

When I traded the nearly unridden balance bike for a larger version with training wheels the Christmas after she turned 4, she loved it. Because it was purple. And a thing. To be enjoyed for its status as an object.

There was a short stint where she would ride her watermelon trike. This solution was great until I had to push her up hills. And carry it down hills. And across fields with grass. Generally, it was carried more than it was ridden.

This week, we had a conversation where I said to my darling, "Do you know how special you are?"

This is a game we play. She coyly responds, knowing she's about to get her ration of daily love-spoiling, "noo....!? How special?"

I officially announced, "I love you more than my bike."

She was shocked! Her look changed from giggle-game-face to one of classic confusion: "You love me more than your bike?"

Imagine my elation when we got home from the park yesterday and she demanded the training wheels be removed from her bike. She promptly began doing laps up and down the street.

She'll decide when she's ready, and nobody can make her do it before then.

Please note: She won't ride without a helmet, but she was not interested in shoes.

Zinnia!

My plan this year was to grow things from seed. I planted tomato, basil, and zinnia. I got 3 tomatoes, loads of basil, and one zinnia. One. Zinnia.

Today, I found a field of zinnia on my route. It was the picture of what I thought was going to happen when I planted a sack of seeds.

Regarding bike lanes, let's talk about how I want to turn left at this light.

I object, a little bit, to bike lanes. This weirdness happens at intersections. Check out how this bike lane just decides to END

Mind the Gap

I was commuting home when I jumped the line of a peloton. It was one of those groups with riders in team kit and special sprint geometry frames. I dug in, because that's the kind of pace that burns a billion calories and gets me home faster. When they pulled off for a turn, a couple of the guys paid me nice compliments. Not construction-worker style compliments about great legs, but the kind that you earn -- "Hey. Solid ride."

Chasing rainbows #tourdefat #commuter #whenyourideabike

#whyiride #swoon #tourdefat #commuter #nofilter

On Being Feminine

I'm an engineer. I'm a cyclist. I like to get dirty. When my kids are with their dad, I like to drink beer. None of this means I don't also enjoy my feminine features. In fact, I celebrate them.

When I'm on my bike, I like to wear a skirt. I picked double platform pedals so I can clip in for a weekend distance ride, or wear heels to lunch with my girlfriends. I wear a long braid in my hair so I'm not always battling with a brush. I cut the chamois out of my bike shorts for my yoga pants. Don't we all love yoga pants?

Flagger

My ride to work is littered with construction these days. It probably feels pretty normal to see a flagger from your car. You know how to interact with him. It probably feels pretty normal for a flagger to see you in your car. He knows how to interact with you. He holds up a STOP, you STOP. He holds up a SLOW, you SLOW.

One morning I approached a flagger by bike, a weird experience for both of us. In fact, maybe it was weird the first time that guy stepped onto the road with his powerful sign of STOP and SLOW.

Flagger is holding up STOP. I roll up near him, maybe a car length back, and I give a waveNod. Except... he is yelling at me to BACK UP. Suddenly, I realize this grey encounter of a cyclist on the road is going to happen. He's got some beef to kick with me about approaching him at his sign.

I say to my new friend, Flagger, "What's the matter? Why are you yelling?"

Flagger responds, "It's not safe! You can't be up here!"

"But why? I thought I was supposed to stop at the STOP sign"

"It isn't safe! You are supposed to stop back there! See that? The cars are coming through right here!"

At this point, Flagger gets huffy and hoists his STOP power sign. He walks to where I am standing on the road and he says, "Why you gotta be like that? I was just trying to stand in the shade."

Um. Ok. Clearly, he isn't comfortable with cyclists on the road. He isn't getting it at all. He turns the sign to SLOW and I move on.

This may be one of the odder parts of the interaction: I've passed Flagger for a couple of weeks now. The first day after this was an awkward, stiff chin. A week went by, and he pretended to let me be one of the cars. Two weeks in, he waves a big, open smile, "Hi Miss!"

Boy and his bike

Other families make sure their children have necessities like clothes and shoes and meals. In my family, I count a bike in that list too. Kids need bikes. I made a deal with each of my sons in the summer of seven: if you mow the lawn every week, no complaints, for 10 weeks then you get a bike. They both took me up on it. That comes out to $40/mow, and I still had to mow the lawn because a 7 year old sure can't push a mower in a straight line. This better have been a good lesson.

I'm thinking it was, because he had a wrench in his hand before we left Seven Stars. We took a stroll, and played with where would be the coolest spot for a picture of him and his new ride. (The blue spot is his shirt. You can just make out the tire underneath him. He's on his bike in a tree.)

My neighbor's driveway has a fantastic pitch to it. We sled it in the winter, and the kids tear up the said-mowed lawn on bikes in the summer. On the first day of this new bike, 7 rolls up to the tippity top of the drive. I'm headed out at 6:30 or 7 to go to work, and I stop to watch him screaming down this hill still in his pajamas. Children don't wait for you to be ready for them to be ready. When I see him hit the slow uphill in my yard, I noticed he didn't slow down a lot. And he didn't turn a lot. I should have been less surprised when he nailed the front steps. 

I throw my bike to the side and race over to him. I pull him up from the ground, and he giggles, "that was awesome. What was that sound?"

He pinched flat his tire. That was the sound.