Air Apparent

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Flat back tire.

We had Monday off for Presidents Day and so Tuesday felt like Monday and it was the beginning of the work week so I take off on my morning commute and I’m about 2 miles from my house near the church with the substantial parking lot. As I crossed the busy intersection it sounds like a small train is behind me and of course I have a flat. I stop at the church which is weirdly THE PLACE where my last two flats have been and I call my husband who thankfully comes to my rescue to deliver me to school to still be early. He also trasports my bike to the shop to have the flat fixed and get the liners to help with this in the future.

It was a construction staple that took us down. I hate those things. How can something so small be so hideous and flatten an otherwise perfect morning? This is why people don’t ride or want to ride. They hate flats and they are terrified they will be helpless by the side of the road in a church parking lot waiting for help. Plus it’s a staple and those are supposed to bind, to keep things together and yet the irony is that it punctured my beautiful nubby tires and pierced the tube so much that it will need to be replaced. I have had so many flats over the years and it’s always the same story. Some little thing topples the plan. I’ve fixed some but mostly I prefer a mechanic to do it becuase they are fast and far more adept at it.

Constrution staple.

I should have taken the side road I chide myself. I wanted to but I thought since the roads were a tad icy that maybe I should stay on the main drag and this is the thanks I get. By the time my husband gets to me I am as deflated as my tire but I’m also feeling like the day is doomed.

By the time you are 2 miles into a ride, you’re IN! The cold air is bracing and yet you are out there doing it and feeling all the feels and I’m listening to a new book and all is well with my soul as the spiritual hymn says.

I see our little red electric mini turn into the parking lot and we load my bike on the rack. We are quiet on the drive just thinking about what needs to get done and still sort of waking up and considering more coffee but don’t want to take the time to stop. How do I not have protective tire liners and how can such a small staple kill my tire? I’ll get to school still early enough that no one would know my drama. I’m pondering the list of things I need to do to pump up my morning, but all in all, the tire is what’s on my mind. The tire and the concept behind a spare because this is my second tire incident in the new year.

About two weeks ago a colleague of mine and I were heading north to Olympia, Washington, the State capitol to testify and meet with legislators about some House and Senate bills. It’s called Legislative Day and it’s such a great experience. This is the second time I’ve participated. It’s invogorating to meet with representitives and senators about what concerns you and how you want them to vote on bills.

Olympia, Washington-Capitol Building

But on the car ride we both had a first time experience with car tires. CARS! She was driving and it sounded like a train was behind us. The freeway does run parallel to the tracks but the sound was deafening. It was as if the train was tailgating us. Do you have a flat? What does a flat on a car even sound like I remember thinking. The thumping, rock tumbler, gravel grating was a roar I’ve never heard before. I am old and I have never experienced a car flat. I don’t know anything about car tires except that they use the Schrader valve (same as some bikes).

I checked the passenger side mirror and no, it was not a flat on that side of the vehicle. It was the driver side.

Car flat.

Now, we’re both librarians and we know things but this is not an area of expertise for either of us. We’re bookish women, who are teachers and feminists and we do it ourselves but we don’t know how. We could get a YouTube video, but there’s the whol jack thing, right? Where does that even go? We’ve never been here before so maybe we do need some assistance. She checks on the spare and I head into the quickie mart to see if someone could talk us through it. Just before I open the doors there’s a woman putting oil in her engine and we catch eachother’s eye.

Candace teaching us about the jack.

Hey, would you be willing to help a couple of library women learn how to change a car tire. Sure she says as if it’s really is all an adventure. I’d love to! Wow, I think, we’ve hit the lottery! Her name is Candace and she drives a truck and she helps us with the jack which frankly looks like it couldn’t lift a 4th grader let alone a 5000 pound SUV.

Screwed.

Typically cyclists don’t have a spare tire in the same way you do on a car. Just sitting back there in the boot waiting for it’s occasion of glory. The moment the understudy in the theater of transportation comes onstage to take its turn. Having a patch kit, or a spare tube or CO2 or a packable, yet highly rated pump to save the day isn’t even close, really.

NASCAR called and they want us for a pit crew. Candace did most of the work but we helped by giving her some great new book titles to read. I marveled at how fast and efficient the process was versus changing a bike tire. Put side by side I wonder which would take longer and I still think changing, patching or in any way dealing with a bike tire takes more time.

You can triple check your tires (either bike or car) and you can always have patch kits and all the accoutrement for dealing with flats but they still happen and they require time to change and adjust. Like the spare on the car felt weird and wobbly to the driver. But the spare is temporary until a new proper tire can be installed.

Then of course that all leads me to thinking about Prince Harry and being a spare king (recent royal memoir) riding along never knowing when your moment to come out of the boot and into the spotlight will come. You can’t overthink stuff like that though because otherwise you’ll never get on the road of life and ride. I guess the lesson is to keep learning and growing and recognize that staples and screws are part of the path we’re all on and it’s good to have people in the pit ready to help us out and get us back on the road.

Thank YOU dear readers for being out there and sharing in my somewhat off the beaten track adventures. I love your Likes and it’s nice to know that out there someone gets me.

Have a brilliant day!

Bike Goddess

Degrees of Dull

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HollyBerry near the river.

The sky looks like Milk of Magnesia and I’m not impressed with the forecast for the day. Not raining does not mean sun. There isn’t rain today but I did experience a brief misting. There is snow in the forecast for Wednesday, but for now it’s just dull.

I won’t say how stunned I am about how quickly this month is passing. I won’t drone on about the fickleness of the weather. I won’t invoke the various frustrations I’m having with the morning temperatures which hover in the high 20s and only climb to the mid 30s. I’ll reject the notion that spring is in the air, because it’s not. The gardening shops are putting out the pansies and it’s all I can do to resist the urge to buy them to brighten up the yard, but the fact is that there’s still frost on the roads and rooftops in the morning and I’m going to stay firm in my commitment to waiting. I’m here to announce that I’m trying to keep a steady cadence in life and I’m overjoyed that Monday is a holiday.

Holly Berry, my newest bike, is simply lovely and I enjoy taking her on rides she hasn’t been on yet. Today we went to the waterfront and looked at how the Milk of Magnesia sky met the gunmetal gray of the Columbia River and I enjoyed looking at her candy apple red frame against the backdrop of winter dull. She’s gleeful in a sea of dullness.

Icing on the paths.

Last week I decided to ride in spite of the weather. I didn’t care if it was icy, I was going to give it a go and commute anyway. We had a late start on Tuesday because there was a bit of a dusting of snow at higher elevations but since school started 2 hours later I figured it would be okay. I’m glad I did so at least I have a sense of what it looks like when I ride in those conditions but I don’t know if I would do that again. Probably I would but I hopped up onto the sidewalk at several points on my commute since the bike paths were icy.

Frosty sunrise commute.

Why do you do it? People ask me that all the time. They cite various issues, like safety and time and of course the unpredictable weather. I guess I do it because it’s beautiful to see how nature works and behold with my own eyes how spectacular it all is. That and bragging rights! There are things about commuting that people often say seem dull. I don’t really get that because I can’t fathom commuting by car. While it is a challenge some days to get in gear and ride, I’d much prefer that to the alternative. I get to witness the sunrise and sunset and the birds and the blooming of everything. It’s like having a front row seat to a performance and sometimes it’s beyond awesome.

God rays and the ride home.

Winter is long and cold and sometimes it feels like it will never be over. I often remind myself in a commute that the seasons will change and to settle in and enjoy the moment I’m in. It’s not easy but when you breathe in that cold air and open your eyes wide you can see that it’s pretty special to just be in it all.

Wherever you are in the world and with whatever the season, I hope you’re doing well and enjoying the ride.

Thanks for reading!
Get out there and ride your bike

Bike Goddess

The 4-1-1 on 3-1-1

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If it was raining would you know if someone threw water in your face? I ask because last week while riding home from school a kid in the backseat of a car emptied his water bottle in my face and then threw the bottle at me.

Not being one to litter, I stopped and got the bottle and I was so confused by the whole incident I didn’t get a license plate but I did get a good look at the kid and the white Scion hatchback so even though I couldn’t “catch” them to throw the liter bottle back in the car and say, “Hey, dingdongheads you dropped this!” I did manage to think it over well enough to compose a decent blog post.

Over time I have been extremely lucky and had very few encounters like this out on the road. As the rain got a bit heavier and I thought about the times I’ve yelled back at a driver I can say it’s enough to count on one hand.

This sitch was different because there was someone else driving and the kid in the backseat seemed to be gleeful about his actions. I heard him laugh as if he heard a hilarious joke.

After retrieving the bottle I thought I saw them on the opposite side of the road but my glasses were dotted with drops and the din of rain and traffic noise made it hard to tell what was going on. Plus, there are lots of white cars out there.

Once I got home I was telling my husband and he said I should report it. Uh, how do you do that? It’s nonemergency and so do you call 911 or is there another number.

It’s 3-1-1 and there’s a dispatch operator who took down the details I report and asked me a few clarifying questions and then an officer called me to go over the the incident.

Bear in mind that I ride this route every single weekday. Monday through Friday, if I’ve ridden my bike to school I’m very likely riding this East-West stretch home. It’s wedged between a high school and a middle school and in a dozen or more years I’ve never had something hurled at me. Drivers along this segment are accustomed to the bike lane which is what makes this whole event all that much more startling.

“Would you recognize the kid if you saw him again?” Inquired the officer.

“Yes, I defintely could recognize him. He had reddish hair, no mask so I could see his face. He was 15-16 years old.” I replied.

“Yes, that’s consistent with other reports. Were you injured?” He wondered.

“No. The bottle missed me but it was certainly aimed at me. He emptied the water in close proximity to me and seemed like I was being splashed with extra water. It was as if I hit a branch on a tree that was heavy with water on its leaves. But I wasn’t near a tree. Then I saw the bottle and heard his laughing.” I explained.

“Hmm. Do you want to file a report in such a way that you have a case number?”

“No. I want you to know in the event that it happens again.” I continued.

“There have been other reports of a kid in a white hatchback who throws stuff at people walking or riding their bikes. We think he’s being picked up at school. That’s my beat, so I know.” The officer elaborated.

“Really?! Wow! I ride this all the time and this is a first, but I’ll keep an eye out.” I declared.

“Yes, and you have my number so if anything comes up don’t hesitate to let me know.”

After I hung up I felt like it was a small win for bikers. I also loved hearing the word “beat” in the conversation and I thought maybe he had one of those notebooks you jot down notes in like all the cop shows.

The next day, Friday, I took off like normal but when I got to the spot where the bottle was thrown I stopped for a moment to see if I got the cross street correct. Yes, it was 144th. Okay, good. Behold in front of me was the hatchback.

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I took a few pics of it and called the officer and gave him a license plate. This is consistent with the other part of the story in which I heard the deliquents again on the other side of the street. I just couldn’t see since they probably passed as I was passing on the other side. They didn’t have school on Friday, but my school did, so I was out and about gathering evidence, I mean riding to school.

Overall, this was an interesting experience. The 4-1-1 on calling 3-1-1 is that you should do it. What’s the worst that can happen? You take a little bit of time to report an incident which could lead to helping out the next person. It’s important to the safety of others if you or someone else is harmed or threatened.

Be safe out there! Don’t let the dingdong heads keep you from enjoying the ride. As I mentioned before this incident was rare but it rattled me until I got it on the record and now I feel like I did my civic duty and maybe helped someone in the future. There’s strength in numbers and my dear readers and fellow bikers, we have to stick together.

Watch your 6 o’clock and get out there and ride.

-BG

Box Me In, Please!

Aside

“A small group of thoughful people could change the world. Indeed, it’s the only this that ever has.” —Margaret Mead

In January 2016, I joined a small group of thoughful people who advise, advoate and work to change our little corner of the world. We meet once a month and there are some people who are always present and others, like me, who try very hard to make each meeting but run into schedule problems on occasion. We are the Bike and Pedestrian Stakeholders Group (BPSG) and we work to make streets safe for pedestrians and bicyclists. In the early days, I sat and listened and I was completely intimidated by all the traffic-speak, acroynms and history. It was hard to keep up and I often felt inept and out of the loop. Frankly, it was humbling on many level, since in my actual line of work I perform competently and with poise. In this new arena, I found it hard to find my words. The content of the meetings continues to be daunting and yet I keep going because it’s interesting and I think what we’re doing is important to the safety of our citizens.

Often times a citizen like me gets involved because they had a particular issue they want addressed. My issue was bikes more than pedestrians, and yet, through time I could see that if a project was good for peds it was usually something you could also expand to bikes. My first two concerns were bike parking in the downtown blocks and the other was an intersection near my neighborhood. The intersection had a history of challenges. At each meeting I would hear that it was being researched for bike box. A bike box is a designated area at the head of a traffic lane at a signalized intersection that provides bicyclists with a safe and visible way to get ahead of queuing traffic during the red signal phase. Bike boxes have positive benefits on both safety and traffic. Read more here.

There hasn’t been a meeting I attended that I haven’t asked about the status of a bike box in that tricky intersection. It was supposed to happen over the summer, then fall. A few weeks ago, my wish was granted. I saw that the road was closed for construction and I could feel myself getting fussy and frothy. I took a detour onto the sidewalk. Then in my periphery vision I saw this puddle of green paint and the work crew waxing on the color. Could it be? It is really? My bike box!  As I approached my left turn I saw a kid and his mom on bikes about to cross the street. I exclaimed something about the bike box and when they didn’t understand I said, “Follow me and I’ll show you.” They followed as I crossed the berm to talk with the workers.

Proudly I exclaimed that I was on the committe that requested this bike box.

The worker knew about the group and gave me a thumbs up. As I got into the traffic lane he said, “Miss, you’re in LIVE traffic.” But the other one told him to hold off the traffic so I could get my pic. All in all, it was a perfect moment.

I use it every day. Drivers are staying out of the bike box. In fact that was one of the constant issues on that street; drivers pulling up beyond the curb line to see traffic. For the first time in three years I feel safe, protected in my green bike box. I was part of making that happen. You could say I helped stop traffic. This victory gives me momentum that will carry me through the next issue, bike parking.

Be safe.

Get out there and ride!

BG