Life got in the way, again!

Sometimes things just don't go as planned. Sometimes life interferes.

To the point that I've had to put this message out in several places:

Friends,

Unforeseen circumstances have arisen that have forced us to reschedule the Cycling Savvy class. If you have registered, we will be in touch to discuss your options. If you have not registered, please watch the Commute Louisville web site (http://commutelouisville.com/) or the Commute Louisville page on Facebook for our spring schedule. We look forward to your participation as we move forward with launching this program in Louisville.

And, of course, I'll be saying something about the class here when I'm ready to have folks register.

Cycling Savvy tour pre-ride

I have spent some time trying to create a tour route for the upcoming Cycling Savvy class here in Louisville. An important part of the creation process is what we call "ground truth" examination. This gives us a chance to look at the features we want to teach in real life (instead of using the satellite view and Google car camera view), in part to be sure that a road that appears to go through actually does, to get up to date information on road conditions, and better decide where to situate the gatekeeper and receiving instructors for each feature.

I finally got to ride my route today. Jenn will get to ride it with me over the next few days--indeed, I may give her the cue sheet and have her ride it herself and compare notes afterward, then hit it one more time over the weekend and fine-tune things a bit.

For some reason, I was thinking about my bike miles today, and wondered how many miles I've ridden in what I think of as my bike-driving era, compared to how many lifetime miles I've ridden. I have no way to even guess at the latter number, as I didn't really keep track of such things until I got my first recumbent bike in 1992, and then only sporadically until the beginning of 2010, when David convinced me to start using MyCyclingLog.com to track my riding.

In 2003 or '04, I had a minor crash while riding my Bacchetta Strada in Iroquois Park. At the time, I figured I had ridden something like thirty thousand miles since getting my Linear recumbent bike in '92. I probably rode an average of twenty-five hundred miles a year between that time and my first posts on MyCyclingLog.com, for ten or fifteen thousand more miles--I'll call it forty thousand from 1992 to January 2010. My stats on MyCyclingLog.com show that I've ridden over twenty thousand miles since January 2010, and over a third of those miles in 2011 (my banner year).

This number pales compared to many racers' results, and even compared to several club members I know. However, it's significant that I've had few crashes, NO car-vs-bike crashes (I count my fall on the Frankfort Avenue rail crossing as a solo crash, even though it was partially influenced by a motorist who cut me off), and no crashes that required hospital visits.

Well, not really significant, when one considers that cycling is safer than many more mundane activities, like being in a car (by half, based on injuries per million hours of exposure), or taking a bath, or walking in a room where there are loose rugs.

Savvy Cycling

I don't know why I haven't posted on my blog of late.

Especially troubling is that I haven't mentioned Cycling Savvy here lately, knowing that there are a couple of folks who read this who don't necessarily keep close tabs on the Commute Louisville site and its blog, and/or dutifully ignore Facebook and other social media sites.

Anyway, Cycling Savvy is coming to Louisville!!

The class cost is $75, for which one gets a nine-plus hour class. The first three hours or so are indoors, and it's not necessary to bring your bike (although bicycles will be welcome...). That segment will be on Friday evening, November 1. We call this class session "Truth and Techniques."

The rest of the class will be on Sunday, November 3, and will consist of the sessions we call "Train Your Bike" and "Tour of Louisville." The Train Your Bike session is a series of drills held in a parking lot, to help folks master handling their bicycles and learn some tips for easier riding. The Tour segment is not an exhaustive tour of the city's sights, but rather a ride to a series of features--intersections or sets of intersections--that give participants a chance to try for themselves the strategies we help them learn.

Oh, and if you are an experienced cyclist, there is very likely a bit of learning you can find here as well. A long-time commuter took the class in Saint Louis a while back, hoping to learn one or two new things. He reported that he learned six new things, and that was just in the Truth and Techniques portion of the class.

The registration form is here, if you already know enough to sign up without following the other links I've offered.

September catch-up, and it's October!!

I keep having gaps in my interest in writing, then a flurry of posts, then another gap...

To update on a couple things: I had a tree company haul off the limb that was leaning on the house a couple weeks ago. I haven't gotten the bill, but the estimate was pretty reasonable, given the scope of work involved. I fixed the roof that Saturday. I spent more time on it than I expected, mostly because the pitch for that section of my roof is steep enough that I wasn't comfortable working on it. It wasn't bad, but I felt it appropriate to take my time, rather than fall off.

Yeah, I've heard the expression, "It's not the fall that hurts, it's the sudden stop at the bottom." Add the abrasions of sliding down a shingle roof, and, well, it seemed better to avoid the experience altogether. I took my time.

The shingles turned out to not be a really good match, but I'm not worried. The angle is such that most folks driving by won't notice the difference. I know my roof isn't leaking, so I'm okay with how it is.

This first picture is of the roof deck, once I removed the damaged shingles. It's easier to see the size and location of the hole this way:

 It took less than a third of a sheet of Oriented Strand Board (OSB) to fix the roof deck. I bought a bundle of shingles, and used less than a dozen of them. I used a piece of Roofer's Felt about five feet long. First the deck repairs:

I didn't bother taking a picture of the roof between this step and having installed the shingles. It's just a roof, after all.

However, the shingle color difference is striking when viewed from above. Part of this is that the original roof on the house is now fourteen years old. It's probably a twenty-year roof, but might have been done with twenty-five year shingles. We are planning for replacing the roof within the next five years, based on the wear I noted while playing around on the roof this time.

I was able to straighten the drip edge (white aluminum seen in the second image) enough that it looks fine from below. The shingle color difference isn't as striking when viewed from the street.

One thing that came out of my several trips up on and off of the roof was that my ladder was beginning to worry me. If you know much about ladders, you know that they are rated for their weight capacity--Type IA, Type I, Type II, and Type III are common ratings, with Type III the lightest, at two hundred pounds capacity. I jokingly called my ladder a Type IV. I found it beside a dumpster behind a paint store seven years ago, and kept it around because it was good enough to do most of what I needed it to do. However, the locking mechanism on one side had a recently-broken spring, and I was only willing to carry a couple shingles up at a time (rather than an entire bundle), lest the thing fail on me.

I decided that it was time to buy a good ladder.

I rode to work (my part-time job at that orange box store that sells lumber, shingles, and all manner of other home repair and maintenance stuff) the next day, pulling my trailer so that I could bring home a good ladder.

The old ladder was nominally a sixteen-foot extension ladder, meaning that its full extension was roughly fourteen feet. There are a couple of places on my house that I cannot safely reach, so I opted for a longer ladder. I now own a 20' Type II extension ladder.

And, yes, I used my bike trailer to get it home, for a couple of reasons: I could, and it was actually a better choice than using the car. To use the car, I would have had to use padding of some sort to protect the roof, PLUS ropes to tie it to the car. I would still have worried about tearing up something on the car. The trailer almost looks like a ladder to many who ask about it, so it was a simple matter to haul the ladder home. Jenn needed the car that afternoon, and I typically ride to work anyway, so...

The hole in the roof deck shown above came with a corresponding hole in my soffit. The soffit pieces are aluminum, and I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to straighten the damaged pieces enough that they would look okay.

The soffit after the storm:

 

After I spent about five minutes actually working on the pieces and reinstalling them:

I was surprised at how good the repaired soffit looks.

And, since the tree outfit removed the big pile of debris from my driveway when they removed the limb, I can get in and out of my garage much more easily!

Driver comments

Over the years, I've begun to train myself to ignore the unintelligible (and often unintelligent) ululations that emanate from the windows of passing motor vehicles. I get such comments from far less than one percent of the motorists who pass me, after all, as they are easily classified as "territorial noise."

To explain that concept, I'll put forth a word picture: When walking along the neighborhood street, a dog barks at me from behind his or her fence. I'm not hurting the dog, I'm not a threat to the dog in any real way--I'm on shared public space. The dog, not having the same understanding of property lines as a human, is still at some level sounding a warning, both to me to not come closer to his space and to his pack (if his pack is only his human caretaker) that someone is close.

It doesn't matter that I am on shared public space--the dog barks. It doesn't matter that I have no intention of invading the dog's space as I understand it to be, the dog barks.

Same thing with most of the very few motorists who yell silly stuff out their windows as they pass me. I already got what I wanted from them--a more-or-less safe pass (although I admit I could do without the extra drama and noise). They have already proven that I was seen in time that they could avoid hitting me.

So, the message I choose to receive often differs from the message these motorists think they are conveying. I hear it as the motorist saying, "I'm happy for you to consider me an even bigger jerk than I think you are for daring to bicycle instead of hewing to the status quo and driving a car!" Part of this is that I rarely hear more than one syllable out of whatever the motorist is yelling, due to the dynamics of sound and background noise and such.

Even so, every now and again I get to hear enough syllables to make some sense of what the motorist said, and I wonder whether the motorist thought through his or her comment at all (lending credence to the idea that it's just territorial noise).

Two sort-of recent examples:

I was cycling through Seneca Park one day, en route to a job site in the Highlands area. I was a hundred yards or so from the four-way stop sign-controlled intersection near Big Rock. There is a marked shoulder of some width on each side of the road, and there are often folks running or walking in that shoulder area. A guy in a white pickup truck blew his horn as he approached me from behind, and opened his power window on the passenger side to tell me that "there is a lane over there for you!" while pointing at this shoulder.

Of course, he was wrong on several points: A) it is a marked shoulder, not a lane. As such, I *may* use it, at my discretion, under KRS or KAR (I'd find the exact citation, but it's not the point), but I am not required to use it. B) That it was paved space to the right of a solid line, just as many bike lanes are marked elsewhere in town, does not make it a bike lane. C) Even if it WAS a bike lane, and thus subject to 601 KAR 14:020 (9)(2), there are many reasons why it would not be feasible for me to use it as such--at least thirty reasons ran by during the next five minutes, those reasons being human beings who were using the shoulder as a firm place to run rather than be in the traffic lane.

His language confirmed that my reception of the message as indicated above was spot on.

The other happened one morning, as I was riding to another job site in the Highlands area. I was on Lexington Road, having just turned off Shelbyville Road (or is it Frankfort Avenue there?), heading toward town. A guy in a sedan lowered his power window to helpfully let me know that it was rush hour.

How about that? What about it being rush hour changes any of the rules for polite behavior? What about it being rush hour (ignoring for the moment the oxymoronic nature of the expression, given that traffic so often moves more slowly during peak travel hours) changes whether I have reason to ride my bicycle to get where I am going?

And what of this issue of courtesy? Those who value themselves over all other road users tell me that a cyclist would be more courteous to get out of the way of faster, presumably more legitimate traffic. They ignore something that is pretty basic to the human experience: the principle of first-come, first-served.

I was there first, it's my turn to use the shared public space in a legal and legitimate manner. Just as you wait in line at the bank or at the grocery checkout lane, your turn at that piece of roadway will come, and you may then use the road in a law-abiding manner, just as I have. It shows amazing hubris to think that because my turn takes a few seconds more than yours, you should go first despite that you arrived after I did. THAT is rudeness.

Oh, and because I sometimes enjoy numbers, this is post 579 for this blog.

Stormy skies

A few hours after I typed my post ending August (or so I thought at the time), we got hit with a rain storm. Jenn and I were at a friend's house, celebrating her birthday, and returned to find a limb from the next-door property against the roof of the house.

In the rain, I went up for a look around. The only damage I found at the time was a hole in the roof between the front wall of my garage and the "show rafter," with some damage to the soffit between them on the underside, plus that several ridge cap shingles had gone missing. Jenn followed me back up to hold the light while I nailed down a heavy-duty garbage bag that was big enough to cover the hole.

The next afternoon, I took to removing a lot of the smaller branches from the limb that had fallen, to better assess the damage to my house.

the base of the limb, where it broke from the tree:

 

After a couple hours of sweaty sawing, I could get to my (not damaged) Bikes at Work trailer!

 

The view from the roof peak, prior to the sawing of branches:

 

After sawing some branches, looking away from the street:

 

After sawing some branches, looking at the damaged gutter (more inspection of which being difficult until the big limb was removed):

 

And a small pile of debris developed as we cleared stuff away from the house:

All in all, the damage to my house was minimal. The materials for the roof repair set me back less than fifty bucks. I'll do the work in about two hours, possibly less, on some cool morning (perhaps Saturday, the 14th). There is some gutter work to be done, in addition to the soffit repair. I'm hopeful that the reduction in tree cover on that corner will reduce the "need" for the gutter helmet--I'd rather clean my gutters easily once a month or so than fight that stupid system, as it lets junk into the gutters anyway and makes it harder to clean them. Don't even get me started on the very short gutter in front of my front door that collects water from a third of my roof...

Also on the damage list is the corner trim, hidden in these photos by the black compost bin. There was a six-inch branch pushing against the house at one point, and when I cut it away, it broke when there was a bit more than two inches to go in my cut, indicating the amount of tension on it.

All in all, however, if this is the worst damage my house ever gets due to storms and downed tree limbs, I'll be a happy camper.

There were, of course, additional concerns. The tree from which the limb fell stands on the property next door, on which a multi-unit apartment building stands. This tree lost a limb a couple summers ago, and THAT limb fell on a tenant's car. The tree has been deteriorating since, and should have been removed more than a year ago. That the tree also hosts a couple of two-inch-thick poison ivy vines has also been a concern for us and for the tenants next door. Although Kentucky law holds that I am responsible for paying the bills involved in repairing my house, AND removing the tree debris from my property, and that it's incrementally more money to remove what limb remained on the neighbor's property once the tree guys got there, it seems I would have a cause to ask for some assistance in paying the tree guys' bill. I've spoken with the property management company, and the folks there were cordial. They got me in touch with the property owner, who seemed cordial as well. We'll see what develops on that front, but in any case, I am going to continue pushing for removal of what's left of the tree, before it has a chance to fall on any building (like my house), a car, or a person.

Cycling (and cyclists) in the news

There has been a veritable flurry of bicycle-related news on the local front over the last week or so.

Sadly, one large bit of news came to us from the family of Joe Ward, as he passed away Thursday morning. Much has been and will be written of Joe, his gracious riding manners, his depth of cycling and local knowledge, his two books (I have autographed copies of each, and am mentioned in the foreword to the second one), and his sartorial style (he was one man I've seen make the corduroy knickers actually work!). As much as I would like to think otherwise, I don't have much to add to that commentary, aside from that I will miss him. He was a great guy.

The comment mill (actually, a different comment mill) got cranked up over a recent article in the CeeJ regarding the MUTCD R4-11 signs that have gone up on River Road.

Predictably, there were some who sided with Council Member Kelly Downard, who fails miserably at understanding the traffic laws applicable to the commentary he provided. I participated in the online melee, attempting to give rational basis for the positions I took.

A day or two later, a couple of letters to the Editor appeared, one even citing some sort-of relevant Kentucky Revised Statutes in favor of his apparent position that cyclists should stay to one side of the road. No, I couldn't resist the call to comment on those, either.

As a side note, here is an essay that helps one understand some of the irony in the anti-cyclists' position. In a nutshell, it details how cyclists' rights have been eroded over the last hundred years, and why that matters.

An anniversary

When Jenn proposed to me, way back in March of 2009, and I accepted (having some modicum of sense about me, even though I thought she had lost her mind for proposing...), we eventually figured out that our wedding date would be 9/9/9 (mindful that turning the numbers upside-down would yield 6/6/6, which gave us something of a giggle).

Events of that July were to intervene, and rather than pay COBRA insurance rates for two months, we married on July 17th. My sister observed that at least Jenn got two primes and a square, in addition to her somewhat-square hubby.

So, today is what would have been our fourth anniversary.

It still is our fourth, although not the one on the marriage license: we exchanged rings on 9/9/9, as by then we had gotten one that actually fit my finger (the largest ring Jenn had prior to that almost fit my little finger), and had gotten rings for Jenn sized properly.

Our honeymoon, such as it was, became riding the Century route on the Old Kentucky Home Tour a few days later.

And, here I am, four-plus years later, happily married. It's been an unbroken string of days, I'm happy to say.

Ironman, the end of August, and other odd thoughts

I seem to be going on a ten-day cycle with posting here of late.

Events of the last ten days include a couple trips to the Ohio River with the kayak in tow, in support of a big international triathlon of long distance, aka Ironman (tm), an event that for the athletes begins in January of a prior year in some ways.

Yes, folks who compete in Ironman (tm) prepare for it for months, in many cases, and even years. I've heard several folks declare, after watching a friend complete the event, or after volunteering in support of the event, that they will do it themselves. Maybe the coming year, maybe the following year, but they WILL do it.

Some others of us come to a different conclusion: There is no Ironman in my future. I swim to stay off the bottom of whatever body of water I toss myself into to cool down (pool, river, creek, lake...). I run very short distances, and then only if circumstances dictate that running is better for me than walking.

I am, however, happy to paddle my kayak for a couple hours so that people swimming a couple miles in the river may have a place to hold on and rest for a moment or two, or to help them make sure they stay close to "on-course" (I mean, who wants to make the swim 2.6 miles instead of 2.4 miles?).

And, since I can, I'm happy to haul my boat to and from the event using my bicycle, cementing my place in the cadre of boaters who do this as something of an oddity.

And, had my degenerating vertebral disc not flared a bit the Friday before the event, my right leg would have been far more comfortable during my time in the boat.

I still enjoyed being out there.

I was given an assignment this time, instead of taking my accustomed place just down-course of the turn buoy. I found myself in the channel a couple hundred yards from the start of the course, across from the Metro Police substation, helping swimmers avoid collision with a downed tree near Towhead Island.

From my vantage point, I could see athletes as their line progressed behind the police substation--even thirty minutes after the first athletes were in the water, I was seeing folks in line up on the main Riverwalk, and those folks had to get all the way to Tumbleweed before following the ramp down to river level then snaking back to Tumbleweed before hitting the water.

Shortly after the last athletes went in, I was asked to move down-course, to a section between the Big Four and Kennedy bridges. I spent much of the next hour or ninety minutes attempting to keep station just upriver of the Kennedy Bridge and just to the Kentucky side of the course (as marked by buoys), and help athletes who had gotten too close to shore get back on course.

It wasn't made any easier when the buoy just upriver of my position broke free of its tether to the bottom, and started drifting down- and across-course.

I usually hear about swimmers who don't make the cut--all are supposed to finish their swim within a specified time after the last athlete crosses the start line and hits the water--but didn't hear of any who got pulled out of the water. I don't know of any injuries or other problems that led to athletes abandoning their race during the swim segment, but some may have.

With my leg in some discomfort, and as the race buoys had not been pulled when I got to the dock, I loaded my boat and prepared to ride home. I have found that if I pedal along the park, rather than using River Road, I can get to the Butchertown Greenway, cross under River Road and I-71, and reach Story Avenue, then Frankfort Avenue, without any interaction with the road closures for the bicycle segment of Ironman (tm).

On the park route, I encountered a couple of cycling friends, one of whom took a few pictures of me with my rig for his Facebook page. After some catching-up with them, I got back on my bike, noting that the crew responsible for pulling in the buoys had just gotten to the turn buoy at the upriver end of the course.

I rode home (stopped for lunch on the way), unloaded my stuff from the boat, and rested a bit, then went back downtown to help at the finish line, as the athletes reaching the end of their long day sometimes need a bit of guidance getting through the rigamarole of getting their timing chip removed, collecting their finisher's swag, and (sometimes) getting medical help.

Jenn and I noticed that our shift was over at about the same time. An influx of new volunteers had arrived, which was certainly a signal. Jenn needed to be at work early the next day, so we walked to the car (she had parked near Tumbleweed a bit after four that morning), and went home (I by bicycle, her by motor vehicle).

This weekend is Labor Day weekend, and a local feature is the Mayor's Hike, Bike, and Paddle. This event has been drawing thousands of folks each year--estimates reached ten thousand for the Memorial Day event a few months ago. Jenn and I have ridden the bike ride several times, but took a break from that after the Labor Day event of 2011. We paddled the Memorial Day event in 2012, but haven't been to the last two. This time, however, the paddle portion of the event features a trip through the McAlpine Locks--something I haven't done since the early 1970s--so I wanted to go. Jenn decided that she wanted to go, too, so we'll haul the canoe down Monday morning, hang out for a bit, then play like we know how to paddle the canoe to New Albany's waterfront, one of us catching the shuttle back to get the car and haul the boat home.

It'll probably be hot in the lock, but I'm looking forward to getting to see the canal from the water.

And this turned into a teachable moment!

I had a couple of bikes in my garage so that I could do some maintenance work on them, and had to take them back to their owners. I loaded them onto my Bikes at Work trailer, connected the trailer to the Big Dummy, and hauled away to the other side of Saint Matthews.

As I rode home, I saw a BUNCH of club riders heading for the Tuesday evening club ride that leaves from the Burdorf's parking lot off St Matthews Avenue. I had some friendly interactions with a couple, and cordial interactions with a few more.

As I passed the lot where the ride starts, a few riders were leaving early. I passed one fellow, as he was riding slowly so his riding partners could catch him, then we approached the stop sign at Westport Road.

I must admit that my mind was on the other traffic in the intersection--there was a motorist who had approached the stop sign from the west, and who would have priority over me when it was time to transit the intersection (she reached the stop sign before I did). She, in turn, was waiting for a safe opportunity to go, as there was another motorist approaching from the east, and that motorist does NOT have a stop sign.

I was busy watching all this, and didn't realize that the cyclist I had passed had come up beside me on my right, in what was something of a blind spot, given that my attention was on other road users entering the intersection. When it was my turn to proceed, there was some confusion over who was going which way (he was apparently planning to go north on St Matthews Avenue, which involves a right jog before turning left to cross the railroad track, and I planned to go east on Westport Road--see this map (http://goo.gl/maps/JTh4G) to help envision this, and be mindful that my cardinal directions are approximate).

We managed to sort things out without unpleasant outcomes, or ugly words, but the teacher in me found it impossible to not think about what we--myself included--can learn from what could have happened. Since I was pulling my long trailer at the time, I of course was reminded of this excellent blog post from Commute Orlando's Keri Caffery (http://commuteorlando.com/wordpress/2008/11/30/what-cyclists-need-to-know-about-trucks/).

As I am not sure whether my trailer was ever in front of this other cyclist, I could not be angry at him. I would like to think I passed him far enough in advance of the stop sign that I was clear of him, but I never did check my mirror or do a shoulder check to verify that I was past him. Prior to that, I should have made sure I could make a complete pass before reaching the stop sign, or if not, should not have passed him--just as one would do if operating a car properly. Because my focus was on other motorists IN the intersection, whose transit through the intersection had priority over my own, I wasn't watching him. Because my focus was on other road users, I did not have my right arm extended as a right turn signal.

On the other hand, in the time I was watching others, while stopped at the stop sign, he could easily have gotten from well behind me to beside me.

Had I been in his situation, I like to think I would have held back, to see which direction the cyclist pulling the trailer was going to go. I learned that concept many years ago, watching drivers of large trucks turn very wide to make right turns, so that the trailer wheels would clear the curb at the corner (or stay out of the drainage ditch, or in general stay on the pavement). There is a reason for the signs seen on the rear of big box trailers advising against passing on the right!

The lesson, for me, is a reinforcement of something I already knew: We can only track so much information intake at a given time.

For me as "riding in his shoes," the lesson also included "stay out of the blind spot of a road user pulling a trailer." That road user is already tracking a fair bit of other stuff in front of him or her, and approaching in a blind spot can lead to big problems. It's also a reminder that "filtering," or riding up the right side of vehicles stopped for a traffic control device such as a stop sign or traffic light, is a bad idea.

It is our mutual responsibility to avoid crashes. If other road users make minor errors, we need to be able to compensate.

Another few seconds of fame

By now, I'm probably getting in to some other person's allotted fifteen minutes of fame (according to the Andy Warhol quote).

I was on Grinstead Drive yesterday, getting some video of the new lane striping (there was a "road diet" done on a stretch of Grinstead a few weeks ago, so that instead of two lanes each direction, it has one "normal" lane each direction, a two-way left turn lane, and a bike lane at either side).

While I'm well-known for my distrust of most bike lanes, I am happy to see well-designed ones in place that enhance trip quality without reducing my safety as a cyclist. I had been "read in" on the plans some months ago, and had some minimal input--mostly confirming input from others--in the process. I've been cautiously optimistic about this plan, although I did have some stated reservations.

The section of Grinstead involved, going generally east/northeast from the marker shown on this map to the intersection with Cherokee Parkway, has been repaved as well, with asphalt designed to enhance traction for motor vehicle users, as the s-bends in Grinstead have been the scene of many crashes, especially in inclement weather.

In general, I'm a fan of road diets, and for several reasons. I find that they enhance safety for all road users, including folks walking beside the roadway. Crash frequency is often reduced by implementation of the two-way-left-turn lane, as folks in the "passing" lane are not suddenly confronted with a motorist stopped to wait for a chance to make a left turn from the street in question.

I found the execution of the Grinstead diet to be good overall. I have mentioned that having a bike lane on the "inbound" side of Grinstead makes a lot of sense to me--there is only one place where a right hook conflict could come about, and traffic into that side entrance of Cave Hill Cemetery is pretty rare. Places to make right turns from the outbound side of Grinstead are more numerous, but in practice are not used very often. Left hook conflicts at most of those locations (primarily driveways to apartment buildings and a couple of small side streets) should similarly be pretty rare. My biggest concern regarding left hook conflicts as it is now configured is where people turn from inbound Grinstead to Glenmary Avenue. A cyclist in the bike lane should watch for left-turning motorists at that site, and be relevant AND prepared to take a different path should a harried motorist not pay enough attention to oncoming traffic at every intersection, but the cyclist's speed could be a bit higher here, making it a slightly larger concern.

I love being able to ride under shade, but I noted a LOT of organic debris (twigs, sticks, and such) in the bike lane that was harder to see at the time I was riding through--about 4:00 in the afternoon. This is a frequent complaint of mine regarding bike lanes in general--debris doesn't get swept out of them by traffic so much as swept INTO them.

My reservation prior to the implementation was that I'm particularly against a bike lane on a descent. Cyclists need more lateral space than the typical five feet at higher speeds in many cases, especially if there are curves involved. Not all cyclists can hold a narrow line in such cases. However, as I rode the stretch approaching Cherokee Parkway from the west, I decided that to eliminate the bike lane so early would add confusion rather than serve any real benefit.

Now that it has been done, my biggest gripe is that there are several places along the inbound bike lane where storm grates are well below the pavement grade, and the transition from grade to grate is abrupt. I don't know that this is a design flaw so much as a flaw at the level of the paving contractor. A cyclist paying more attention to surrounding traffic who hits one of those grates could be thrown a bit too easily for my liking.

As I was riding up and down Grinstead Drive, I noted some coins on the pavement. I have a habit of collecting such coins, as money is money, so I stopped in the parking lot of what had been built as a gas station at the corner of Grinstead and Everett. As I collected the assortment of coins, a van with markings from WDRB41, a local television station, was driven into the little parking lot, and the on-air personality hopped out and asked for an interview. Of course, I wasn't the only person interviewed, and some of what I thought were my best comments were not used. I at least didn't sound like a doofus.

Here is the result.

Cardinal Harbour "practice swim" and race

Today's excursion was the Cardinal Harbour Open Water Swim, used by some athletes as a practice event for their swim during the Ironman event coming in a couple weeks.

I got my kayak wet for the second time at this event (my first time at this event was last year).

While it's not as busy a time on the water as Ironman is for me, I enjoyed it. I didn't really feel like hauling my boat to Cardinal Harbour, well out Rose Island Road, by bicycle. The terrain isn't too bad, nor is the distance (thirteen miles or so), but on the roads in question, at that distance, pulling the trailer at an average speed of ten miles an hour, I would have had an unpleasant bike ride. Motorists on US42 have little patience for cyclists, as that and River Road are key corridors for cyclists training in preparation for the Ironman event. Sometimes it's just not worth the hassle to do a thing by bicycle.

I made mention of this on a local kayakers' forum, and was offered a ride by a fellow I had met when I DID use my bike to pull my kayak to the Buckhead Border Challenge Triathlon in July.

En route to the event, I realized that I had left my GoPro at home, and decided that we didn't have time to go back for it. I plan to have it in use during the swim portion of the Ironman, in effort to show a sense of how amazing it is to see a thousand people swimming by (out of the roughly 2700 who will start that race--it's hard to see all of them at one time!). I had the camera on during portions of the Border Challenge swim, and while I wasn't disappointed with what I got as a starter point, I wanted to try some different ideas this time. Phooey!

Once on the water, I had a new reason for wanting to have my camera: One of the other boaters had her dog on the back of her sit-on-top kayak. The dog, a Golden Retriever, had her own PFD (or is that CFD, for Canine Floatation Device?), and was quite comfortable with being on the water. She obviously had done this quite a bit in her two years of life. She (the dog) even understands how to drink from a water bottle! I kept wondering what she was thinking about all those humans in the water--she sometimes looked like she wanted to jump in and play (although I was told that she doesn't jump in the water from the boat--she will, of course, enjoy a swim from shore, since she is a Golden Retriever!). I kept expecting her to bark at the swimmers who had gotten off course, but I suppose she was letting her human handle that task.

In two weeks or so, I plan to be on the river for the Ironman practice swim and the swim portion of the Ironman race itself. Hopefully, I will figure out how I want to capture video by then, and remember the silly camera!

Kirby's article is online!

At the end of February, I got pulled over by a police officer in Oldham County, for, as best I can tell, driving my bicycle defensively.

As you may recall, I had just returned from the I am Traffic Colloquium, and while there had met Kirby Beck, who spoke to us about the role of law enforcement education in the organization we hoped to create. I had Kirby's email address due to our discussions on other things, so I asked him for suggestions as I crafted the letter I would eventually send to Oldham County. He gave me some good pointers to ponder, and included a .pdf file of this article, mentioning that it would be published "soon," but that no date had been set.

It's finally been published! It appeared in the July edition of Law and Order Magazine, and is now online so that the general public can read it.

Many of us have some idea of how we think police officers think. Some of that is stereotypes drawn from bias-confirming behavior, some from popular portrayals. Let's face it: some cops act the asshat, seemingly for the pure pleasure of acting the asshat. They may be reasonable people when not in uniform, for all we know.

The article is good reading. It might give you some ideas worth keeping in mind should you ever have to discuss your lane position with a police officer or that officer's supervisor (or further up the chain of command), or, should things really go wrong, a judge.

I don't know that I've had a lot of folks watch this video before. This is raw video from my GoPro (save that I've added some comments in text). When he opened with his "I understand that you have the right to ride on the road, but..." bit, he showed his anti-bicycle bias. A parallel sentence structure would be to say that I have the right to ride on the bus, but only in the back seat.

His claim that he "is the one that decides what goes on out here" is a fallacy argument from authority (aka bullying)--he does NOT decide what is practicable for me. Of course, a roadside argument would have led to more trouble than I wanted that day. I wasn't ready to go to court to argue my case further.

This incident led me to do a LOT more reading of KRS and KAR. If I had this happen again, I would be tempted to ask what statute the officer thinks I'm violating, so that I can better prepare after-incident comments for the officer's supervisors.

The problem stems from...

I've had my Surly Big Dummy for almost fourteen months, now. It has about two thousand miles on it, according to the cyclometer, although apparently I've not been logging all those miles, as my records on mycyclingloc.com show a bit under nineteen hundred.

In any case, it's been a great bike--versatile if not fast, capable of hauling big loads if not quick. I've been happy with the component specifications (stock bike, except for the handlebar and saddle). I've also had fun with the "what ELSE can I do with this bike" exercise from time to time.

Except that I get finger numbness on longer rides, especially if the load makes the bike anything other than rock-solid stable and I have to keep my hands on the bars all the time.

Looking back, this hand position issue has been on my mind since shortly after I put the bike in service. I like the hand position of the Surly Open Bar, and I have liked the Ergon grips since I got them a year before getting the Dummy.

As big as I am on bike fit and comfort, it's weird that I haven't taken time to work on my own comfort on this bike for over a year. My mind must have been elsewhere. Or something.

A recent trip home from downtown, pulling a friend's bike so that I could work on it, was apparently the trigger I needed to start really giving the handlebar position some thought. I realized a couple of things: a) I had done myself a disservice when I only brought home 40mm of stack washers, b) I was holding off fixing my handlebar position for the wrong reason--not wanting to buy a new fork and more stack washers, when I could more easily (and affordably) install a stem that is shorter and has a steeper angle than the stock stem.

When I ordered the parts to fix that friend's bike, I ordered a shorter stem with more rise. I put it on the bike today, and went for a short spin (about two miles). I need to spend more time with it to know for certain whether it helps enough, but I found a couple things to be true right away.

This bike has always felt "wide" to me. The handlebar has always felt wide, the q-factor has felt wide (even though it's similar to my Globe in that respect), the saddle even felt a little wide (even though it's the same top as the saddle on my Raleigh, which is quite comfortable). I have typically shrugged it off as a function of that it's a big-assed bike. It SHOULD feel big. It's the bicycle version of a pickup truck, for cryin' out loud.

However, the handlebar feels more like it should, now. It feels like I've narrowed it a smidge, although I haven't done anything to it.

My torso feels more comfortable, now, although I really don't think two miles is far enough to get a good sense of how much better it will be.

Now, why didn't I do this a year ago?

Sidetracked, er...

Sidecar!

As I mentioned a couple months ago, I received an Xtracycle Sidecar to fit my Big Dummy as a birthday gift. 

Since my typical loads either fit in the Big Dummy's bags easily, or are big enough to require that I use the Bikes at Work trailer, I haven't really done any testing on the sidecar.

Until today.

We were low on cat food and cat litter, and completely out of bird food, so a trip to Feeder's Supply was on the schedule for today. As the intended purchases are all fairly dense bags, the sidecar got attached for this trip.

My route to and from the nearest Feeder's Supply involves the Shelbyville Road/Watterson Distressway interchange. Having ridden through this interchange for over a dozen years, I am quite accustomed to its quirks. More on why the intersection matters in a bit, however.

I rode to the store with the sidecar stowed, made my purchases, loaded the bike, adjusted the load a bit, and played in the parking lot for a while. I wanted to see how the bike felt with this load before moving in traffic. Several months ago, I hauled a similar load without the sidecar, so I compared my mental notes on that experience to the current one (the prior load was far more top-heavy, so the bike was a bit squirrelly, but still manageable). While I didn't think it would offer any race-bike cornering, I found it acceptable (backstop option was to reload as I had done before, as that was a known quantity).

Onward to home I rode. Yes, the handling was a bit different than what I have been accustomed to, but it was quite manageable. I had a brief moment of concern when I first got on the bike, but realized that I was trying to move the rear bike tire and the sidecar tire in relation to one-another. They are two points on a triangle, the sidecar pivot being the third, rather than points on a parallelogram. 

The only problem I had on the way home was that as I was setting up to enter the aforementioned interchange, I got caught by a couple seconds at the light in front of Mall St Matthews. I was there long enough that I had a BIG platoon of motorists behind me--enough that I couldn't get to the left lane before the next light at the Watterson exit ramp. I negotiated with a couple of cooperative motorists who let me get across their paths so that I could make my left turn at New LaGrange Road. Once I turned onto Washburn, I found a place to pull over and address the cause of the noise I was hearing--the paper sunflower seed bag had moved over until it was getting rubbed by the sidecar tire, but not enough to damage things or lose seeds. I adjusted the placement of the bag and went on my way.

So, one might ask, how about that sidecar?

It does well for dense, low-center-of-gravity loads like the hundred or so pounds I was hauling on it. It takes some time to acclimate to the subtle differences in handling. It requires a bit of understanding of its characteristics, as they are different than just hauling the weight around in the bags or on the rear rack. I go back and forth on whether I like it or really like it, but I certainly don't dislike it. 

writing dry spell is over for the moment

For a couple of days, now, I've been wondering what to discuss in my next blog post. I wanted something worthy of getting back on the keyboard for a missive more involved than a pithy comment on Facebook.

Thanks to Mighk Wilson, I now have such a topic--his new essay posted on the I am Traffic site.

It's not a short essay. There are several complex thoughts presented--enough so that I cannot give an adequate synopsis on a first reading.

There are some gem-level tidbits in Mighk's writing, but quoting them here limits their effectiveness. To really make sense, they need to be read in the context of the entire essay. A couple of his statements have become axiomatic to me, although not as well put into words:

Adding more rules will not solve the problem, because adding more rules adds points of failure. Instead of more rules, cyclists need more options to avoid the errors of others. Our most important options are sufficient operating space and adequate line of sight.

 The essential fairness of the rules of the road is based on the idea that all people are equal, no matter their mode.

Or a point that I keep reminding folks of when talking about the Lusk, et al study and the Teschke study that figure so prominently in the arguments put forth by fans of painted-on bike lanes:

But I was being charitable to those bikeway studies a few paragraphs back. Their claims of crash rate reductions are highly suspect due to poor methodologies. None of the studies address cyclist or motorist behaviors. They simply look at all the crashes before and after the installation, or compare crashes on streets with and without bikeways. In order for such comparisons to be valid you have to screen out crashes that wouldn’t have been affected by the bikeway presence, such as someone running a red light or a stop sign, or a cyclist entering the roadway from a driveway, or one out at night without lights.

In other news, Grinstead Drive is getting a road diet! There had been talk of this for a while, and I had a very small degree of input at some point (mostly agreeing with a couple of points made by 8Dave during the design phase). I haven't seen the final design plan, but I'm cautiously optimistic, at least for the westbound side of Grinstead alongside Cave Hill Cemetery. A bike lane there actually does make sense, as there are very few (one--the side entrance to Cave Hill) chances for right hook conflicts and that section of Grinstead goes up a hill such that a cyclist climbing lane would be appreciated by many.

In the same C-J article, we learn of a public information meeting on the topic of expanding the successful Brownsboro Road diet section from Ewing Avenue to Hillcrest Avenue. The C-J cites the Mayor's office claim that the crash frequency has dropped by 40% while transit times have remained roughly the same (no doubt aided by the reduced need to slow to avoid others' crashes).

Again, I'm cautiously optimistic on the Grinstead Drive road diet. I'm eager to see the results of the Brownsboro Road diet.

And I need to spend some more time thinking about Mighk's essay. I'd enjoy reading your comments on it as well!

Stirrin' up S&!#

As noted in a recent post, Louisville Metro has installed a couple of bike boxes--on Spring at Mellwood and on Adams at Story (Adams becomes Spring when it crosses Story, or Spring becomes Adams as one crosses Story, depending on one's travel direction). I've not been overly delicate in expressing my opinion of this move, citing, among other things, that bike boxes:

1. create right-hook crash hazards as cyclists follow a bike lane that is situated to the right of a lane from which motorists may make a right turn
2. teach unwary cyclists that "queue-jumping" is acceptable practice, in violation of the basic traffic principle of "First-come, first-served."
3. teach unwary cyclists that being off to the right of traffic is somehow a safe place to be (despite all evidence to the contrary showing that cyclists are far safer in the center-left of the travel lane).

To offer a quick review of what a bike box supposedly does for cyclists, the original intent was to enable cyclists who wished to make left turns to get ahead of the queue and get across the main travel lane (presumably from a right-edge bike lane). In practice, cyclists were not using the boxes as intended, so the goal post got moved and the current claim is that bike boxes allow cyclists to get to the head of the line and leave the intersection first AND somehow avoid right-hook conflicts. The mechanism for prevention of right-hook conflicts is the farcical notion that motorists making right turns will grow eyes in the backs of their heads the better to notice a cyclist approaching in what would otherwise be the motorist's blind spot. There is a recent video from Portland Oregon from a bicycle user who, despite the motorist making a right turn, rode right in to a right-hook conflict and had the audacity to blame the motorist when the cyclist could easily have avoided the conflict by slowing a bit.

Several friends have noted that significant numbers of the folks who advocate for such majick painte solutions as door-zone bike lanes, gutter-zone bike lanes, and bike boxes are in fact advocating for abdication of the personal responsibility of cyclists to manage their own safety. They are holding everyone BUT cyclists responsible, and making complicated demands on all involved.

Anyway, as noted in the title to this blog entry, my sharp tone and numerous comments didn't go unnoticed. A subset of my three or four readers likely read LEO, the Louisville Eccentric Observer, a weekly printed paper that at least used to have a decidedly progressive take on things AND offered some great commentary (LEO used to carry a column from the late Molly Ivins, a wonderful voice for many years). Apparently advertising revenues no longer support such things as a weekly dose of This Modern World by Tom Tomorrow or other similar comics, nor national columns on par with the aforementioned one from Molly Ivins (who, as noted, is no longer among the living and thus no longer publishing her column).

A writer from the LEO contacted me a bit more than a week ago, asking for an interview. She and I met over some form of refreshment at a Heine Brothers' location, chatted for a while, and bade each other a good afternoon. I didn't expect I would be the only one interviewed, and was not surprised to see comments from a friend in the resulting article.

As I read the article, I noted that Mayor Fischer apparently used the Geller Taxonomy for classifying cyclists. In short, this classification system tells us that a tiny percentage of cyclists are "strong and fearless," a small (~7%) percentage are "Enthused and Confident," a much larger percentage (~60%) are "Interested but Concerned," and the remaining 33% or so say, "No way, no how."

I rankle at the notion that my thought processes involved in self-preservation by riding with my safety in mind are somehow "fearless," or that I am some sort of superman on a bike. I ride the way I ride BECAUSE I am risk-averse.

And, anyway, the classification is hokum. Pure hogwash. It's far more productive to consider riding behaviors, since personal safety is, first and foremost, a product of one's own behavior. A friend put forth that the behavior classes could be called "pedestrian behavior," "edge-riding behavior," and "bicycle-driving behavior," where the first refers to using a sidewalk or path at mostly walking speeds, the second to riding against the curb or fog line in attempts to "stay out of the way of (presumed) more important traffic," and the last means "integrating into the traffic system by controlling one's travel lane and releasing faster traffic to pass as safety allows."

I hasten to mention that I have over-simplified the descriptions a bit.

One reason the behavioral model is helpful is that a given cyclist may exhibit each of the three types of behavior at various points in a single trip, depending on circumstances. An example: If I am in St. Matthews, my most common route home includes using a sidewalk that links the back side of a Kroger parking lot to a neighborhood, then using the neighborhood streets to avoid some of the Westport Road bike lane. Once on Westport Road, I am all but compelled to use the gutter bike lane (or face harassment from motorists and/or law-enforcement officers who have read some of 601KAR 14:020 (9) (2)). When I leave Westport Road by turning onto Washburn Avenue, I again resume my preferred bicycle-driving behavior pattern.

In other words, I don't fit into any one category of Geller's model.

And, because I was really following meaningless numbers for a while, this is my 567th blog post.

On a more positive note, however:

A few weeks ago, I received an email message from one of the folks at the Undriving site, asking me for an interview. Apparently something about one or another of my responses to their posts on Facebook caught the collective eye of their writers, and one was nudged into initiating contact.

A few emails and a phone call later, this post on the Undriving web site appeared!

A tip of the helmet to David C, who reminded me some years ago of the existence of the Disney short mentioned in the article. I've cited and linked that short many times, here in my own blog and on Facebook. I still find it wryly amusing, and relevant in a stereotypical manner.

Egads

I was truly hoping that Louisville would remain behind the curve on this mad rush to spill green paint on the streets and call it a bike box.

'Twas not to be. Louisville now has a couple of bike boxes.

Pretty green paint does not make an intersection safer--behavior does. New "No Right Turn on Red" signs don't make an intersection safer--many motorists will ignore those signs (I ride through an intersection featuring "No Right on Red" regularly, and see someone turn right on red at least every other time I am sitting at that light). Unwary cyclists will think it safe to barrel through the intersection, never mind that car with the right turn signal flashing.

What can go wrong?

I wonder how many cyclists will get mowed down before people realize that they need to sue the city for criminally bad "engineering?" Is the city immune to such lawsuits?


Edit: After a few questions here and there, I have learned that someone in Public Works has "wanted to try bike boxes" for some time.

"Try" implies a trial or experiment of some sort. Who would be the subjects of this experiment? Humans, of course.

A small problem comes to mind, however: Over the last sixty or seventy years, human society has increasingly frowned on the idea of subjecting humans to trials unless said subjects have expressed informed consent. This is especially true when there are known risks involved, such as the blatantly obvious potentials for hazardous interactions I've mentioned above.

I cannot imagine an informed human who would be willing to consent to such an experiment.

It's been three weeks already!

...and we haven't gotten ready to put on a Cycling Savvy class!

As mentioned, there is a fair bit of work to do in preparation for opening the school, so to speak. Jenn has been busy with work-related projects, I've been adjusting to the sometimes-random-seeming schedule associated with being a part-time "associate" at that orange box of lumber and stuff, and doing the odd job here and there for existing clients.

I even did another stint on the sidewalk the other morning. By "on the sidewalk," I mean that I was one of those folks wearing orange vests helping clients of a clinic get past the phalanx of anti-choice zealots there to shame them out of caring for themselves. There was some web traffic regarding the crisis pregnancy center next door to the clinic, and a call went out for a few extra volunteers. I was able to help out, and did.

That was the only time I remember being in the car over the last week.

For a recent job, I needed to rent a ladder, as my extension ladder was a bit short for the task. Of course, my Bikes at Work trailer makes easy work of such hauling tasks. I had used it a week before to haul two loads (ten 2-cubit-foot bags) of mulch home on consecutive days. Some of the folks at the store know how I roll, and get a kick out of it.

I had the video camera going on one of those mulch-hauling trips, and as it was facing rearward, got to see just how far back most of the overtaking road users were changing lanes to pass. It was pretty cool to realize that motorists can figure out that they need to change lanes at a quarter mile distance in many cases, and at least a tenth of a mile most of the time. A few fail to recognize the situation until they are closer, and I figure that having to wait a while is a mild punishment for their inattention to the road ahead.

All that said, I was pulling the empty trailer to work on Tuesday, figuring to haul the aforementioned ladder home from the store, and felt a nudge while sitting at a traffic light. Sure enough, the motorist behind me had eased up and nudged my trailer. I got off the bike and walked back to about her fender, yelling that she had hit my trailer (having figured out on the way that no harm was done--this time). She had the nerve to respond that my bike was well ahead of her car, after which I reminded her that I was, indeed, pulling a trailer and that she had pushed my trailer (and, thus, ME), which led to my yelling at her to get her head out of her car seat.

Some clueless people!