Big Wheel for Adults

Back when I was a little kid – that is, back when water guns looked like real guns – there was nothing cooler than a Big Wheel (well, except Transformers, but nothing’s cooler than Transformers). Giant front wheel, little back wheels, pedals and tassles. I mean come on! Though I don’t remember it, I apparently used to bomb down a tree-studded hill on one of these things when we lived in Knoxville. Probably explains a lot about my present-day driving style. Now, I DO remember blowing down the street in Dallas, one foot balanced on the seat, the other pushing away behind me, skateboard style, and leaping away just before the Big Wheel slammed into the curb. Again, probably explains a lot.

Now that I’m all grown up (in that I have a son of my own and a wife and a job and stuff), I don’t really have the equivalent of a Big Wheel anymore. The mountain bike is more like, well, a bike, and my MINI if anything, is a more civilized version of the go-karts my dad used to take me to drive when I was little.

But…change may be on the horizon. This morning, I came across a crazy contraption called the Trailcart. Invented in Germany, this thing’s being touted as the world’s “first pedal-powered four-wheel-drive off-road vehicle”. But looking at it, all I can think is Big Wheel.

I bet it’d even be fun to run one into a curb.

Roof Rack Attack

I learned firsthand this morning why roof-mounted bike racks aren’t necessarily the best idea.

After riding around the trails at Walnut Creek, I was loading my bike onto the Mazda when a bee decided it would be funny to come and land on my arm.  Instinct took over, and I let go of the bike.

I became aware of my mistake at once, as the bike began listing away from me, but by the time I got my hands back in place it was too late.  All I could do was hold onto the tires as the bike crashed onto the roof of the car and the pedals gouged a few nice dents into the metal.

And yes, this happened with about thirty people standing around watching.

Good thing, then, that I am ordering the Mini with the Sportlink bike rack.

Ride & Drive

For the most part, my weekends are uneventful.  Usually, they involve mountain biking, errand running, maybe some sort of yard work.  Every now and then I head out to write, stay in to read, or install something into a wall.  If I’m lucky, I see a movie.

This past weekend, though, was one for the books…

Out of Shape

Went mountain biking today.  First time in, oh, eight or nine months.

And it kicked my butt.  By the time I got back to the car, I felt like I was going to throw up.

Can’t wait to get back out there again next weekend.

Ambulance Chaser Sues After Falling Off His Own Damn Bike

That’s right, folks.  Some personal injury lawyer fell while mountain biking and is now suing the Toronto Outing Club and its Kolapore Uplands Wilderness Ski Trails Committee as well as the Town of The Blue Mountains, the Grey-Bruce Trails Network and the province of Ontario.

What a jackass.

The Solution

Sad to say, but I haven’t been on my bike since my Yakima rack was so unceremoniously stolen off the back of my Xterra. Well, maybe not unceremoniously. Who knows, maybe the thieves had some sort of ceremony.

But the point is…I haven’t been on my bike.

Sure, I suppose I could throw the bike in the back of the Xterra, but I’d rather not. Muddy tires do not make for a clean interior. And besides, as easy as it is to remove the rear cushions, lower the seatbacks, pop the front tire off the bike, and shove the rest of it in through the tailgate, it’s just enough of a pain to help me justify that extra hour’s sleep.

Yes, I’m lazy.

So…I’ve been looking for a replacement bike rack. One that is lockable. Sure, the Yakima racks have locks available, for FORTY FRIGGIN’ DOLLARS! The rack is already $160! Come on!

Well, on a whim I decided to see what the alternatives were to Yakima and Thule. After all, in this free market economy, I am pretty sure there is someone out there selling high quality, easily lockable, affordable bike racks.

Before you die of suspense, let me tell you, gentle reader, there is such a man. And his name is Alex Allen.

As you can read by the caption, Mr. Allen is a President AND CEO. But of what? Allen Bike Racks, of course.

So what makes this man’s bike racks so markedly superior?

- They use spring pins rather than pull pins to allow the bike arms and the rack frame itself to fold down

- Lockability. The addition of a single piece of metal makes it possible to lock bikes to the rack, and to lock the rack itself to the vehicle!

- The model I prefer, the three-bike, 2″ hitch rack, is about $110. A comparable Yakima model, like the one that both Jamie and I had, is more like $165. $205, once you count their optional lock.

The rack in question:

Those three points, I think, settle the debate. Alex Allen owns all over the doddering, oligarchic likes of Yakima and Thule (which rhymes, by the way, with “fool” and “tool”, and the less insulting “yule”). When I (and Jamie, as well) do get the chance to acquire a new bike rack, I know who I’m going to.

God bless you, Alex Allen, President & CEO.

Happy Day, Part 2

I arrive home to find Jamie’s bike rack stolen as well.

Happy Day

My bike rack’s been stolen. Great.

Get a Grip!

I know. Lame title.

After lots of deliberating and reading and reading and staring at shiny packages in stores and reading, I finally ponied up for some nifty bar ends for the Trek. Their purpose is twofold. The first, and most obvious, is a second hand position, so your fingers don’t go all numb. The second is that bar ends put your wrists at a better angle when you’re out of the saddle (the seat) and can help you get up right over the front wheel for uphill traction.

I also got a nifty pair of locking grips for the bar itself. They are super easy to put on, and they are thicker than the stock grips were. I haven’t ridden them yet, but I’m looking most forward to it.

It was fun to get a nod of respect at the bike shop when I purchased them, rather than the sort of indifferent arrogance I usually pick up on. The, “oh, he’s a rookie…” thing. I guess that means I picked out good ones.

I know. It’s like offroading, but without the cost of gas or insurance…

And, due to popular demand, here are the aerobars that Jamie got on her road bike. They should take some of the pressure off her hands on those long rides.

I like how they say F-19, like its some kind of jet fighter or something. Still, they do look intimidating.

Hills!

A bit of wanderlust seeped its way into my ride today. Rather than doing my usual circuit, I set out on an exploratory journey across Walnut Creek. There are fifteen miles of trails weaving through the park, and I have not even come close to exploring all of them. So across the creek I went.

And which point I noticed that everything seemed to be uphill. Well duh, I WAS riding AWAY from a body of water, towards which the ground slopes. So I ride around for a bit, and then find this side trail that turns into a REALLY STEEP DESCENT. And nasty, criss-crossed by roots the whole way. Nothing long, maybe thirty or forty feet, but certainly treacherous. Being the balls-to-the-wall sort that I am, I walked my bike down it. I’m used to crashing, but have no real desire to experience my first OTB (over the bars) just yet. Of course, just as I get to flat ground, a biker comes off the trail to the left and up the hill. I feel like a tool.

Gathering myself, I turn right off the trail which jumps me up another steep, though smooth, hill. Back to the path I was on before. Curious where that rider came from, I turn back and go down the hill I just came up. The path winds and then descends precipitously before emerging on the limestone bank of the creek. I slow to a stop and then figure “what the hell?” and head down. Amazingly I made it down.

After some water and a rest, I turn and look up the hill. I figure I can’t get hurt that bad if I fall while trying to get up it, so I go for it. Put the gears low, stand on the pedals, and put my weight over the bar. And I got up it! The triumph surged through my veins, and I recklessly pointed my bike for the hill I had walked down. The front tire bounced and skipped and bucked against the roots as I push my way uphill. I had a scare as the bike ran off towards the brush on an overzealous pedal, but after that I was up! Two nasty hills in a row!

After my twin triumphs I scooted around for a bit, and found my way to another side trail. Nice and simple at first, but growing nastier. Lots of sharp undulations. I stop on top of one, and then shrug my shoulders and decide to go for it. I make it, and push on. The undulations turn to undulations with rocks. I make those. And then the rocks start to climb. There are ledges. Nothing my bike and my pumping legs can’t handle, though. I get tossed around every so often as my pedals ground out on the rocks beneath me (bikes have terrible breakover angles), but I keep going, look up, and see that I still have something like two hundred yards to go. I wanted to keep pushing, but by this point my lungs were on fire. My legs were at their breaking point. I’ve gained a lot of strength in the past few weeks, but this was far beyond my abilities. Pissed off, spitting mad, and disappointed, I clambered off my bike and gulped down my water, hoping my heart wouldn’t explode in my chest. But at least now I have a new goal. I WILL conquer that hill. Which, I found out later, is aptly named the “Hill of Despair”.