Dear Motorist: A Short Letter to Anyone Who Drives

You don't know me, but you more than likely are acquainted with or related to some facsimile of me, and even though we may have no direct connection, I am making a plea to you today: please stop driving inattentively and too fast.You are going to kill someone. It's only a matter of time.

You may wonder how I can say this with such conviction, or you may see the same issues yourself as you mosey down your daily path and think that it's a rarity, a situation that transpires because of one person's reckless behavior. You may believe that you would never hurt or kill someone while driving, but if you ever drive with your focus on something other than the road around you, if you ever speed, if you ever roll through stop signs or yellow (or red) lights making a right turn, if you have ever not come to a complete stop when required or not fully looked in all directions, if you've ever had a moment during which you've swerved/drifted into the shoulder or bike lane, you may be the next murderer behind the wheel.

I am a person who rides bicycles, a cyclist, if you prefer. You may now be rolling your eyes and saying to yourself that you see cyclists "all the time" who "run stop signs" or "ride carelessly." You may be telling yourself the long-repeated and still-erroneous statement that I don't "pay for the roads" because I'm on a bicycle. In truth, I would take this moment to remind motorists that cyclists were the ones who originally lobbied to have paved roads long ago. 

I will also say that I see the same things you do, and I see motorists do the same (or worse) far more often, and motorists are in two-ton machines that have the potential to do far more harm. Two wrongs do not make a right. We teach children this saying from a young age. We also ask them if they would do something just because a friend engaged in an unsavory activity. 

Yes, cyclists sometimes run stop signs or lights. Sometimes a cyclist may perform a lane change that seems unsafe, but I assure you most of us are far more concerned about our physical safety and do our best to be predictable so that you don't hurt or kill us. Most of us are very aware from our time on the roads that you don't like us, that you believe we are taking up your space or you think we don't "belong" on the roads. I could remind you, as others have over the years, that a person on a bicycle is taking up far less space than a person in a motorized vehicle. I could point out that we are not polluting the environment with the same intensity of a motorized vehicle - really, there's not much pollution to speak of for a bicycle. But, that is not my purpose today.

Cyclists come in all sorts of bodies and from all different backgrounds with different purposes on the road. Some are traveling to school, work, or to run errands. Some are out to exercise or clear their minds. Some are young, others are old, and a whole range in between. We have MAMILs (middle aged men in Lycra) who are riding their rides, there are racers and professionals out training, there are young children who are getting their first glimpse of freedom as they ride to school or to a friend's, there are moms and dads pedaling with their kids to make trips around town, there are group riders and solo riders, and so many more. People on bicycles dress differently too. Some wear stretchy tight clothing for aerodynamic and anti-chaffing purposes, some ride in work or everyday clothes, others choose to ride in gym clothes or baggier clothes, and there are so many other variations possible. Some of us (most of us other than young children) also drive, at least occasionally, a motorized vehicle. But what we all have in common is that we ride a bicycle, and we all want to arrive safely to our destination.

I could recount my personal tales of motorists coming very close to killing me (and there are many), but the stories have been told so many times in some form by others that I doubt it would make a difference in anyone's mind. I'm just another anonymous, faceless person. Until it's personal, most people don't seem to want to change. So I ask you to do this: make it personal. When you see a person riding a bicycle, imagine that s/he is your family member or friend, someone you love and care about. Would you want a stranger to show him/her/them consideration on the roads, to allow them to go about their business without harm? Would you want to be the family member who gets the call that your loved one has been killed or injured because of an inattentive/reckless/drunk/high/speeding driver?

My own mother has told me repeatedly that she worries every morning about my (and my husband's) safety while riding our bicycles.  She knows that we spend a lot of time on our bikes and having only shared a few of the many, many incidents I (and we) have had on the roads, she frets that one day she will get that call she dreads - one or both of us has been hurt or killed. I hope that day never comes, but after experiencing the roads first hand, I know her concerns are valid.

The answer is not, however, for people who ride bicycles to stay off the roadways. I do believe we can all share the space and reach our respective destinations without anyone being harmed. Safer passages are always nice, but realistically I know they are not likely to happen in most places - at least in the foreseeable future. That doesn't mean they shouldn't be built or fought for, but we - motorists and cyclists - are going to have to find a way to live and travel together peacefully, and without the ever-increasing threat to cyclist's lives.

My intent today is to plead with you to slow down, to take a breath when you're frustrated or in a hurry, to realize that wherever you are going, even if you are late, it is not worth someone else's life, to drive more cautiously when there are slower moving beings in the vicinity. If we start to live by the philosophy that we yield to and have patience for more vulnerable and slower road users, it would end so many needless injuries and deaths. I ask you to remember that when encountering someone on a bicycle who makes a questionable move on the road, it is not a reason that their life should come to an end. We are all human and have all made errors in judgement at one point or another. When you are in the heavier more dangerous vehicle, it is your responsibility to ensure you allow enough space and to slow down when passing safely isn't possible. I assure you the few seconds you may lose will ultimately be a far more acceptable price tag than the potential loss of life. 

Tern HSD - It's Electric!

I have found a new love. 

And I fear that I have become completely obsessed.

But first, let me go back a bit to tell the tale of how this all started. For readers who have hung in with me during our 2021 move, you know that it's been a bit challenging for me to sneak in rides since the move. Don't get me wrong, I still ride, but with time constraints when engrossed in a complete house redo/renovation, the usual carve out of time just isn't there. My life has become consumed by house fixing and I spend most of my days doing work to repair this severely-neglected, old house. 

Over the last many months, I have found that not only have I lost my cycling strength due to not riding as frequently, but my many ailments have compounded that loss of strength. To boot, we have moved ourselves to a nice little hilly area where it's nearly impossible to go anywhere and avoid some sort of climbing (a skill I'd mastered, living at the base of the Rocky Mountains somehow - of course, there was more flat land to be found there, too). I've just never been a great climber, and when I'm prepared for it, the work can be done, but it's definitely not my strength.

With our move, the typical going-to-my-bicycle-to-run-errands has pretty well diminished to near-never. To be fair, a lot of this is due to what I'm picking up when running errands these days, but I wasn't feeling great about what had happened. Not only was I not riding much for sport, but I'd also pretty well eliminated my transportation riding. Ugh.

One day, I decided to ride to the gym to work out. I was feeling a little jealous watching Sam do his rides to the gym every morning and then continuing on to work. I kept telling myself, that used to be me - I always rode to the gym and to run basic errands around town, but it's amazing how easy it is to fall into habits without even realizing it has happened. The need to grab some giant load of materials often meant that it was easier to drive and then pick up what was needed on the way home, rather than taking my bicycle. It doesn't help that we're on the opposite side of town from the home improvement stores and that there's no direct/easy path to get to them via bike (well, there is one if I ride on the highway - but that is its own special nightmare). It is doable, but it takes some effort and frankly, as drained as I have been, I just couldn't muster the energy needed to make it happen. Granted, it's a lame excuse (I'm not denying that), but it is reality.

Anyway, I decided to ride to the gym and took my road bike. It was not my smartest idea, but I was thinking it would be easier to ride and I'd get there faster, but I remembered quickly how much better it is when one is more upright in position for city riding. I have a more upright bike I could've chosen, that has a rack and a bag, etc, but it weighs twice as much and I didn't want to fight with the hills. 

I've been thinking a lot about electric bikes as well and how I believe they have a real chance of changing the minds of more people when it comes to getting around. I have always thought that an electric bicycle wasn't something I needed or wanted. I've never objected to others riding or owning them, but I guess I felt a bit like it just wasn't something for me. I like the idea of getting around under my own power, the work that goes into that, but after test riding an e-assist bike, it really changed my thought process. I realized how beneficial it can be for a variety of people - both those who are fit and those who are perhaps still working on fitness. Maybe now was the perfect moment in time for me to look into an electric-assist bicycle for transportation? 

So, I started doing homework, investigating, digging, reading, and trying to figure out what would make the most sense. I wanted something that would be able to carry stuff - more stuff than I'd normally carry on a bike. I wanted to be able to get a few bags of groceries, take packages for drop off, and things of that sort. Perhaps a cargo e-bike made sense? Years ago I'd looked at Yuba, so I took a look at those again, but it seemed like a lot of bike - as though it made more sense for someone with young children being transported regularly. Still, it was a possibility. I'd seen some good things about Benno as well, so did some research on those too. Of course, there are tons of options to look into from Rad Bikes to Blix and so, so, so many others. I'd also seen and read a bit about Tern, but honestly, I pretty well glossed over them because I just didn't like the idea of the 20 inch wheel size. I've always thought that folding bikes were adorably cute, but I have also always thought I'd feel like a circus bear riding a tiny bike, such as the Tern.

G.E. rides a tiny bike... or at least my mental image of what I look like on a tiny bike.

All the research was giving me a headache though and one can only read so much before actual rides need to happen -- and I did think it was important to ride the bikes I was interested in to get a real-world opinion of how they could function for me. Fortunately, we have an electric bike store in town and they happen to stock a slew of brands, so I could test ride to my heart's content. Not one to ever turn down a test ride, I was off (with poor Sam in tow for this slightly unnecessary adventure).

Upon arrival at the shop, I was feeling pretty set on the Benno brand, so that was what I wanted to ride first. I did ask if there was anything that the shop thought I should test out and they recommended the Tern. I listened as the shop worker described the good things about each of the two and recommended that, since the two of us were there, that we take one of each, and then we could switch out to see if there was a preference for one over the other. So, we were off on our way, me on the Benno Boost and Sam on the Tern HSD P9.

It was Sam's first experience riding an electric bike, so it was fun just to see what he had to say. When we stopped to switch bikes he said, "Wow! That was a bit startling in full-blast mode." I just smiled. Moving among "eco," "sport," "tour," and "turbo" it was easy to feel that there is definitely a difference in the level of assistance being provided. 

The features of these two bikes were quite similar, but the Tern felt a bit more steady to me (and to Sam). This could be simply because neither of us are tall, so being closer to the ground with the 20" wheels of the Tern helped us each feel more stable with a lower center of gravity. But, when returning to the shop, I knew that the Tern was a much better fit for my needs/wants. Still, I wasn't loving the idea of the small wheels. It seems silly to get hung up on such a little thing (no pun intended), but it was a difficult mental barrier to get over.

When we returned to the shop, another employee recommended that I test out the Tern HSD S8i (the internally geared option), which is the same bike with a Gates belt drive and 8-speed Shimano Nexus hub. I didn't really think that was necessary, but after asking if it would feel different, the shop recommended giving it a try. 

I haven't ridden or owned an internally geared bike for a number of years, but didn't have a real objection to trying it, so off I went with one of the shop employees for another ride.  I started to think about the potential benefits of an internally geared city ride with the belt drive, such as making weather a little easier to deal with, being able to shift from a stopped position, not needing to lube a chain, and so on. But, I also didn't object to the derailleur either. It's not that big of a deal to lube a chain, and I don't need to shift from a stopped position as (at least most of the time, unless I'm having a lost-in-thought moment) I do know how to shift, and the fenders make dealing with weather easier on either bike. 

One thing I did recognize as the two of us rolled along the trail next to the river on a gloriously sunny afternoon -- I was falling in love with this bike. 

Uh oh. 

I forgot about the mental image of looking like a circus bear riding a tiny bicycle and I was just... enjoying the ride. I was picturing riding to the grocery store, delivering packages to UPS/FedEx/USPS, and, deity help me, I was even imagining getting a dog trailer to pull Miss B-dog to parks, trails, and the river -- all without ever getting in a car. Each of these brought a smile, and all of it made me picture life getting back to something resembling what it used to be in the not-so-distant past.

I do have some level of restraint (though some might argue otherwise), so we left the shop without a bicycle. Sam and I chatted as we walked away about the possibilities and what could make sense, so I said I would do more research and make some sort of decision in the not too distant future. We watched a few video reviews at home later that evening and I read a bit more, but I could feel that I had already made my choice.

I didn't sleep that night. I tossed and turned and obsessed about how great this bike had the potential to make life. It is a lot of money to spend on a bicycle, so I was also aware that it would need to be viewed in more of a car-replacement light, and in less of an n+1 type of light, and I think that made the most sense. Anything that allows for less driving, I am happy to lean in that direction.

The next day, I felt ill as I mentally debated whether it would be worth the cost, but knowing that Sam was okay with the purchase, I headed to the shop. I asked a few additional questions, and inquired about accessories they had available, and then... made the purchase. Ack! This was a big purchase, but I really believed it had the power to change not just a mode of transportation, but my currently diminishing enthusiasm in regard to riding. I knew that my excitement about riding would return at some point, but this was something that had potential to get me back on my path quicker.

When Sam got home, I heard him state as he clomped up the back stairs to enter the house, "You made up your mind the minute you rode it. I'm not sure why we even left without it." 

I realized he'd seen the Tern as he'd parked his own bike and I couldn't help but smile... he wasn't wrong.

To address something that I know will bother some, I'm going to touch briefly on the electric piece of this bike.  Perhaps one of the reasons some people object to electric bikes is the perception that there is no work involved in riding. We've all heard the term "cheating" in reference to those riding electric bicycles, but there are such a wide variety of options, that I don't really think it's great phrasing to use (not to mention that anything that gets someone on a bike shouldn't be thought of as cheating). People often tell us we're cheating when riding our (non-electric) tandem bicycle (though, anyone who thinks this is cheating should really try riding it), when that is not the case at all.

This particular category of electric is e-assist. There are some electric bikes that have a throttle (akin to a scooter or motorcycle) and allow a rider not to pedal but still maintain momentum, however the electric-assist type requires the rider to pedal in order to get any benefit from the electric part of the bike. It truly is just a bit of a boost to help with wind  - or hills - or lack of fitness, if/when needed. It should be fairly obvious that when carrying a load of cargo on a bicycle, the assistance could be quite beneficial. Who wants to run errands and be dripping in sweat after climbing a few hills with that extra weight? Maybe it's okay in some circumstances, but there are many times when having a little boost would be very appreciated.

The Tern HSD S8i is not lightweight for a bicycle, but is fairly light for an e-assist cargo-ish type bike. The stated weight is around 57 lbs (without racks, bags, etc), which, for anyone who's weighed a standard road bike will attest, is certainly stout; but when compared to some other electric options weighing in at over 100 lbs, it's truly more of a featherweight by comparison. 

What I find super useful on this bike (beyond the e-assist, which is definitely a fantastic feature) is all of the potential carrying spots. This particular bike is outfitted with a front porteur rack, a rear rack, double panniers, wired front and rear lights, a kickstand, a bell, and the potential to add other options (like a seat for kiddos, if needed, or a flat bed rack for additional carrying capacity). For such a small bike, it really packs quite a lot. While a lot of these things could be added to most any bicycle, it all seems to come together nicely on the HSD, and it has a fairly hefty carrying capacity at 374 pounds. 

I had plans to ride the HSD on its inaugural post-purchase ride to the gym and to drop off a few items at UPS; however, it was snowing that day and, silly as it sounds, I didn't want to have our first ride together in the snow. I know, I know, it sounds so nonsensical, but there's something about making the first trip in the snow that just seemed disrespectful. It's not that I won't ride it in the snow or rain, but I didn't want that to be our first. So, instead, it ended up being the following day to get a few groceries. 

The purchases that day fit easily into one of the panniers, along with my wallet, the bike lock, and a few other small items - with space to spare. I was struggling a bit with the cafe lock, and finding a suitable place to lock the bike itself up was a challenge, but other than that, everything went splendidly. 

The second ride was to the gym, during which I threw my packed backpack into one side of the panniers, after which Sam and I rode to pick up breakfast bagels and a coffee. I realized quickly that it would be nice to have some sort of cup holder, so went on a hunt for one that would work well because strapping it to the front rack with a bungee was less than ideal, as was evidenced by the liquid remaining on the rack when we stopped. 

Subsequent rides were very similar, until it was time to head to the grocery store again. The next trip to the market the panniers did a decent job, though they still weren't absolutely packed to the limit. Each one will fit two bags of groceries (at least), which is great as I typically don't buy more than 4 (maybe 5) bags of groceries in a single run.

As can be seen, there is still more room inside the panniers, if carrying more items was necessary. My reusable grocery bags are fairly large themselves (they have more capacity than the typical paper or plastic grocery bag), and they fit side-by-side inside without issue.

There is also an interior mesh pocket and a second pocket with a zipper, which I find very useful for a variety of purposes. They pocket without the zipper is great for holding a cable lock, gloves, a mask, and other smaller items that may get lost inside the main compartment.

Please forgive my dirty-looking hands. I'd been grouting tile and despite all of my hand scrubbing, couldn't get the grout haze off my hands. :(

The zipper pocket is good for things that may have a tendency to move around a lot that get misplaced inside the main compartment, such as keys, cards, and items of similar size.

As for things I find a bit unsatisfactory or challenging (after all, nothing is perfect), I will say that it's a tad more difficult to maneuver this bike than I anticipated when getting into/out of areas (like storage, parking, etc) that are more cramped. For such a small bike, it's a bit of a pain in tight spaces. This may be partially due to the front rack, but even before the rack was on, I didn't find it super easy to move. Because of the weight, I don't want to pick it up unnecessarily, but find that I often must, simply to get it where I need it. It's not a deal-breaker, but it's also not ideal. If I lived in an apartment with stairs, I definitely wouldn't want to be hauling it up and down - but perhaps that is just me and the fact that I've grown used to having bikes stored at ground level.

Another flaw I've found is that it sits so upright that I wish it was just a bit leaned forward (just a bit). It's nice to have a view of everything around, but when I take longer in-town rides, my backside feels more pressure than I'd typically want. Usually, city trips mean lots of stops though, so I can make do with the bolt-upright position on the bike -- though I probably wouldn't use it for touring or things that took me far outside of town. Again, for some this may not be a flaw at all, but for me, it's not the best position to ride in, particularly over longer distances. I'm still fussing a bit with positioning on the bike, so hoping to find a good spot for me to ride that relieves a bit of pressure, though in my experience, this is simply the nature of an upright bicycle.

As has been mentioned in reviews, I find the cafe lock on the rear wheel a bit challenging, though not for the reasons most mention. Many have found it an annoyance to have to leave the key in the lock when riding, but honestly, I don't mind that aspect. I have a much bigger issue getting the key into the lock and then releasing it. I have discovered that it often sticks and doesn't want to budge. With use, it seems to be getting a little easier, but I find that I need to allow extra time to deal with potential problems, and inevitably, it's uncooperative when I'm in a hurry. The solution seems to be not to use the cafe lock for the rear wheel, but this leaves the bike vulnerable to battery theft when unattended, as the key is coded for both the battery and the cafe lock, and must remain in the lock when unused.

In retrospect, I probably didn't need to have the internal hub and belt drive for this bike, but I don't regret it (at least yet) either. I do appreciate that it will require a little less maintenance, and when having more than one bike, that can be a nice feature.

Despite any of the things that may seem derogatory, I really do like this bike! I am thankful to have it to use for daily purposes and it's been an excellent addition to the bike fold. I also appreciate that both of us in our household can use it, though I will likely be the primary user. 

Has anyone else had the opportunity to pick up an electric bicycle? What do you like and/or dislike about it? Would you buy one again? Would you do anything different regarding your choice? Would love to hear about others' experiences, if you're willing to share. 

Bike lanes and sidewalks

Life is... well, it's likely taking some turns in the coming months. I'm not at liberty at the moment to discuss any of it, nor do I really have many details, but my mind is having a field day with all of the potential outcomes. As a person who likes open options, I find myself playing out scenarios and possibilities, but in the interim, there is so much that must be done, and my body is exhausted. I wish I could say that it is from riding so much, but as I pointed out to Sam just days ago, my cycling miles from January 2021 to January 2022 dropped off. 

Significantly. 

Like, by ninety percent. Ugh. 

It's funny how life upheaval can change so much of the usual routine. I'm also amused that as someone who likes open options and change, I do have parts of life for which I appreciate having a schedule or routine to depend on. When those things get disrupted, destroyed, or completely obliterated, I find the rest of life feels more chaotic than it normally would. I mentally struggle, which quickly turns into physical stress... and then, well, it depends on how quickly I come to that realization as to how it all gets handled. 

Last week I rode more than I have in a very long time (and it wasn't even close to as much as it would've been just a short three-quarters of a year ago) but it felt -- fantastically normal (except for perhaps a bit more saddle soreness than I'd normally experience). And yet, I am still struggling with finding balance between fixing our project house and the rest of life. I have not made art since, oh, around March of 2021 (although Sam keeps reminding me that the house is an art project all its own), and I haven't even bothered to try and find any sort of part-time gig (to replace or continue on with substitute teaching).

Last week, I pretty much opted out of the project house and focused on riding and other activities. We had a warm winter week in central Oregon, finding temperatures close to and right at the 70ºF mark and I wanted to take full advantage of the weather. Yet, somehow I still felt guilty spending several days during the week going for relatively short rides and ignoring the work that I know needs to get done. But, I know both my body and brain needed a break, so am trying to cut myself a little slack.

On the subject of cycling, one thing I've noticed here when riding is, as I pointed out early on, there seem to be quite a number of cycling lanes. Although I see bike-specific lanes in cities more frequently in the last decade or so, I still wish for more protected cycling lanes/areas.  When I find them, they are such a joy -- even as someone who doesn't necessarily mind riding in motorized traffic. Just being able to relax the body and mind a little in traffic is always welcomed.

This path (above) that B-dog and I walk regularly doesn't have a protected bike lane, but I do appreciate that thought was given to various forms of transportation. There is a sidewalk for walking/running, a raised bike lane for riding, and a lane for motorized traffic, and it runs on both sides of the road. It works seemingly well here, particularly as it's a lower speed limit spot, but more than once I've witnessed SUVs, trucks, 16-wheelers and other vehicles that have driven up onto the bike lane, making it one of those spots that I'm always a little leery to ride through without having full focus on motorized traffic. I would think that adding a protective barrier would make this more ideal, but because (as with most of the US) focus is on the convenience of drivers, I don't think that will happen any time soon. Adding a barrier would encourage drivers to actually drive the speed limit, whereas now, they are able to whip through, often 10-15+mph over the posted speed limit.

As can be seen in the same photo, cropped in a bit (below), people also like to use this area to park their vehicles, or use it when they break down (or hit one of the roundabout barriers, as I've personally witnessed). I am aware that the trucks parked here are doing city work, but there are literally parking spaces on the other side of the road at a public park, as well as plenty of residential street parking one to two hundred feet away that could be used if they were willing to take a few steps to the work area.

It may not seem like a big deal, but when the few spaces that are put in place for more vulnerable road users aren't respected as such, it does make people less likely to use the space. Plus, if I (or another walker, runner or cyclist) had been traveling on that side of the road, the only way to pass would be to enter the motorized traffic lane.

Not unlike this Twitter thread from last week.

As stated in my comment on Twitter, this is not a problem exclusive to Columbus. It seems to happen anywhere and everywhere, and yes, if this same closure were to happen where people drive, there would be an instantaneous uproar and solutions would be found immediately.

Sadly, as a cyclist and pedestrian, these are very common encounters when trying to navigate most cities. Bike lanes are used as a staging area for road closure signs, delivery drivers use bike lanes and narrow shoulders as their parking area, sidewalks are fenced off, forcing pedestrians or those riding on sidewalks into traffic lanes, and then people start to give up and instead get in their cars to drive because it becomes too much of a risk and too difficult to deal with not to be in a metal box. 

Although I didn't take a photo, I did recently encounter a fenced off sidewalk which had large, directed signs, pointing cyclists and pedestrians to a workaround path for the construction zone. I was honestly a little surprised to find this, but it made navigating around the area much, much easier, and I couldn't help but think that this is how every blocked bike lane or fenced off sidewalk should be dealt with on a regular basis. 

It seems as though the answer is pretty simple to this problem, but my presumption is that closures don't inconvenience enough people to make it worth the time and effort to put in a safe passage area during the length of construction or work projects. Yet, it almost feels more like a chicken or egg argument. Not enough people are cycling or walking, so no one bothers to put in alternative passing areas, but people don't feel safe on passageways because they've encountered the scenes above too frequently.  

Perhaps as fuel becomes more costly and the climate crisis is becoming unavoidable, changes will start to be seen? Unfortunately, it saddens me to say that it is more likely that things will continue on in the same manner, but I do hold on to hope that as more people use alternative forms of transportation, safety for all travelers will come to the forefront and change will take place.

Catching Up

It's been a minute since I've put anything up. I have not disappeared off of the planet (at least not yet), but life has sort of been in the way of many of my more usual activities. We were very excited to finally have a home again, but that new home is sucking up so much of our time that it feels like there still isn't much that is normal in the day-to-day operation of life. It is what happens when one purchases a large project. I'd promised myself that the house would not take up all of my time, but I don't enjoy living in a rundown shack, so that pinky-swear to myself has disappeared as we sludge through the mire of fixes. Every week I tell myself that the following week will be different -- and then it isn't.

Frankly, I haven't really been riding a bike much. Sam gets in some short rides during the week to and from work, and we try to ride the tandem at least one of the days on the weekend, but I can easily count the number of solo rides I have completed over the last three months. It feels as though I went from riding fairly significant daily rides to forgetting that I even own a bicycle (or several, I suppose). 

On a morning walk with B-girl.

The transition to life in Oregon has been far more challenging for me than I anticipated. Initially, I believed that the trouble was that I needed to have our four-legged fur-kid with me 24-7, but as I have discovered, even having the ability to leave her at home alone has still not managed to get my rear end back on a saddle with any kind of frequency. I am disappointed in myself that I haven't been able to keep things going as I had hoped. 

Mentally, I am struggling. While I believe myself to be fairly adaptable, I miss "home." I miss the riding more than anything and I just can't seem to find equitable routes here that I enjoy as much as those out the door in our previous home. I don't think I truly comprehended why so many people would visit to ride in Colorado, but after riding here, I have a better grasp of just how good it really is.

In many ways, the city-cycling in our new home is much better. It's tough to find roads within city limits that don't have a bike lane, and as shared in a prior post, there's even a bike lane running along the highway through town (though I still find it an entirely startling experience to ride it), but once out of the more lived-in areas, bike lanes and shoulders seem to vanish and road quality diminishes significantly. 

I keep telling myself that it just takes time to adjust to a new place, but riding is such a big part of life that it feels as though part of me has died. I spend at least a few minutes every day telling myself that everything is good and that I have no reason to be upset, but inevitably something comes up in reading or conversation that brings me back to my homesickness. Though I am aware the feelings will pass (or at least dull) with time, it doesn't make it any easier while in the middle of it.

I've also discovered that I have a fairly substantial allergy to Juniper trees and this type of tree is quite abundant in this part of Oregon. Already having several allergies to various plant life, it was not something I was expecting would affect me so severely/regularly, but it's made breathing a bit more challenging and many days I look like I haven't slept because my eyes are puffy and/or red.

It isn't all bad though. I do very much enjoy having so many places to run/walk the pup. I think those paths are in much greater quantity than in our prior home (at least with the ease of being able to walk to them from home). I have thoroughly enjoyed getting out on foot to explore and see the various areas within walkable distance. I mean, come on, how many people get to have views like the one below on their morning walk?

I am also grateful that Sam is having an opportunity to explore a job and work with people he enjoys, which was the primary purpose of this move. Having the opportunity to experience a different place is always good too - whether for the experience alone, or because it teaches some type of lesson. 

And so, while life marches on, we are figuring out this new area, trying to get back to some sense of whatever normal is or should be, and realizing that there is always a yin/yang with anything - the good and bad, the up and down, but hopefully in the end, it brings some type of balance and harmony to life. 

Finally, a ride in Oregon

 "I have lost all of my riding muscles," I said to Sam, as we sat in our hot box (aka the camper we are currently living in). I just don't know if I'm going to get to ride at all until we have some sort of home. Not being able to leave our pup anywhere, not currently having the dog trailer I keep thinking about purchasing, and with Sam gone at work all day, I just haven't been able to get in any two-wheeled time.

"We'll figure something out," was his response. 

I knew that this was going to be an issue when we came to Oregon (well, during the transition period anyway), but I had no idea how much I would truly miss riding a bike. I knew we'd have to adapt, and I thought that I'd be okay with not riding for awhile. I suppose I also believed that finding a place to live would be much easier than it has been, so after having been here for two weeks and having spent the two weeks prior packing up the house, it had been nearly a month since I'd really had a chance to ride outside.

We were preparing to move "home" to a new location (as we aren't able to stay in one spot for very long, thanks to summer bookings) and Sam said, "Why don't you go on a ride in the morning before we leave? I'll take the dog on a walk and it will give you a chance to ride."

I was excited. And then worried. Unlike most who seem to retain their cycling fitness, if I don't ride for any stretch of time, any ability I had seems to leave very quickly, even if I'm doing other activities. I figured even if I could only do a few miles it would be worthwhile to get out and pedal, so I planned to wake early before the sun had a chance to start the heat (we were expecting temps to reach 105F that day) and knowing that we had to leave before 11a from the site, I believed it would give me a little time to ride, get back and help with packing up and we'd be on our way.

Sleep was nearly impossible that evening because the day had been so incredibly hot and the extreme warmth was retaining well in the tiny aluminum box in which we currently live. I was also so excited to get to ride. I know it seems silly, but it felt like an event that hadn't happened in an eternity.

When I woke in the morning (not nearly as early as I'd hoped), I dressed and prepared to ride. I had no idea where I was going, nor how far I would ride, but I was going to go. I told Sam that I'd probably only make it a few miles and I was off.

As I started pedaling, I heard all of the noises - the noises I'd ignored over the last several years. You see, this bike I brought with me is the same bike that's been sitting on my home trainer, getting used primarily over winter months, and that has really been neglected when it comes to maintenance and cleaning. I'd complained about noises even as it sat on the trainer, but it's easy to ignore when my preference is to ride outside. 

The pinging metal sounds, the scraping and creaking, the weird derailleur noises, all of the sounds began and I hoped it wasn't going to take away from the ride. I saw Sam standing at the fence, watching me pedal down the road and as I pedaled the first couple of miles, I started weeping. I think it was a combination of emotions: getting to ride for the first time in awhile, not having my usual outlet to work through feelings (there's been a LOT going on over the last couple of months), and maybe even a little sense of relief that I was still able to pedal (even if I wasn't convinced it would be for long). 

There has always been a piece within that knows how important riding is to me, but I don't think I truly understood the magnitude of that importance until this ride. As the waves swept over, under and around, I just permitted myself the time to cry, and it felt good. 

Riding toward Sisters on the highway.

Still unsure of where I was going, I thought about a highway path we'd driven to see a house in Sisters, Oregon, so I headed in that direction, thinking that I would just turn around when I was tired or ready to do so because of the heat. I just kept pedaling. Not fast, mind you, but pedaling and smiling. The more upright position of this bike was a little frustrating to my posterior (which is also out of saddle shape because I haven't been riding), but it gave me great sight lines to take in my surroundings. 

The day was already growing hot. It hadn't hit 8:30a yet and the temperatures were quickly closing in on 90F. I wasn't really focused on that though. It was just nice to be on a bicycle, pedaling without a care in the world. 

One of the interesting things I've noticed here (versus where we were in Colorado) is that when one rides "up" to a destination, it doesn't mean quite the same sort of ride. Typically, when we ride up, it's up the entire way and then a fantastic downhill return, but here the terrain seems to be more rolling, even if the general direction is up. I hadn't really taken this into account as I rode because I was just enjoying, and as my body began to fatigue I couldn't quite remember if it had been 15 or 20 miles out to Sisters from the starting point. I'd convinced myself it was 15, but when I hit that marker, I still hadn't arrived, so I just kept pedaling. 

Dismounted in Sisters for a couple of minutes... this poor, neglected bike held its own. Also, I did have tools with me, they were just in my Camelbak because I'd forgotten that this bike had no saddlebag and no bottle cages for the time being.

At around mile 21, I arrived in Sisters. After dismounting, to give my backside a break for a couple of minutes, I realized that the heat was coming in faster than I'd truly grasped and decided to head back. As I rode, I began to understand my mistake in thinking that the ride would be all downhill on the return. I tried to stand and pedal a little more, but that seemed to make the bike noises even worse. Around 5 miles into the return trip, I received a text from Sam:

Hey, you doin' okay? It's gettin' hot fast.

I was a little annoyed, honestly. I just wanted to go on one lousy ride and enjoy it. He had my tracking info for the ride that is sent by Strava when I began the ride, so why was he bugging me?

The auto-generated reply options for the Garmin popped up and I hit the "Yes" response and kept on pedaling. I could feel everything setting in though - the lack of riding recently, the heat, my annoyance from the noises of the bike. My cadence was starting to slow. I had to remind my body that it knows how to do this, and that the distance really wasn't that far. 

Yes, my body said, we know how to do this, but it's been awhile, and we're not normally on this bike.

It's amazing how slowly miles pass when one is tired. When I want a ride to last, it feels as though it's over so quickly, but every mile felt like ten, easily, on this return trip - at least to my body. My mind was content to just stay out in the heat and ride as long as possible.

Over the rolling hills I pedaled, slowly inching my way back to the campground. One last push on a hill before the upcoming signal that would have me back to base in a couple of miles. As I arrived back at the site (later than either Sam or I had anticipated), he'd already packed everything, attached the camper and was ready to roll. 

"You okay?" he said, with a smile that was both concerned and happy for me that I was able to ride.

"Yeah. Realized about half way through that I never buckled my chin strap for my helmet. Saw it flapping in the wind as I was headed back," I responded.

"Where'dya go?" he asked.

I was confused. Hadn't he been watching where I'd gone?

"Your phone did that thing again and never sent the email, so I didn't know where you were," Sam said, obviously guessing that I was not understanding. 

It all became clear in that moment that he'd simply been concerned because I'd said I was only going to ride a few miles and he had no way to know where I'd actually traveled because the message never sent. 

After a brief conversation about the ride, I changed quickly and we got on our way to our next temporary site. I was entirely grateful to have had the opportunity to finally ride, tough as it may have seemed in some of the moments. The good moments far outweighed anything that seemed less-than-ideal. Hopefully, we've worked out a system so that I can ride at least once each week until we have a more permanent setting for home... and who knows? Maybe we'll end up with that dog trailer and I can get in even a bit more riding with our pup in tow.

Riding the Rio Grande Rails-to-Trails

During the last weekend of July, Sam and I headed to Glenwood Springs, Colorado, for a friend’s wedding. We have traveled through this area on many occasions when driving via I-70 to California to see relatives, but had never stopped or spent any time here — shockingly, not even to refill an empty gas tank. So, when we knew we were headed in that direction for a couple of days, we wanted to do our best to take advantage of the opportunity and ride as much as possible.

Our time in the area was going to be pretty limited and with Sam participating as a groomsmen in the wedding, we knew that rehearsals and other festivities would likely take a big chunk out of our already limited time, but we were intent on carving out a chunk of at least one day to explore a bit.

I had done a bit of electronic exploring of the area before we left home and discovered what appeared to be a decent Rails-to-Trails route that we hoped to ride, but it would all depend on the other commitments and how much free time we’d actually have to ourselves.

On Friday, we arrived mid-afternoon to a fast-and-hard falling rain-mixed-with-hail storm. This is very typical in the Colorado mountains (or even at home) in the summer, so it shouldn’t have surprised us, but we were still caught a bit off guard and sat pouting a bit as we waited for it to pass, and watching as our bicycles got drenched in the downpour.

Just before our arrival at the campsite (and the rain/hail storm).

About an hour later, everything cleared well enough for us to venture out a bit. We were staying at a campground just outside of Glenwood Springs proper, but saw as we drove in that there is a bike path just outside the campground. So, we hopped on our bikes and decided to see where it would take us.

The path took us along the Colorado River, and then runs parallel to I-70 before dropping off in the city of Glenwood Springs. From my sleuthing prior to our arrival, I knew that there was a way to connect to another trail from the city, but because I was having difficulty getting cell coverage, I couldn’t quite figure how we’d connect to it from our location, so instead we pedaled around the city a bit and took in the sights.

Later, when I had an opportunity to check a map, I realized that we nearly ran right into the path, had we just been paying better attention. So, we decided that on Saturday morning we’d go back and attempt to make our way on the Rails-to-Trails route of the Rio Grande Trail.

Like many railways, the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad stopped running several decades ago, but thanks to the conservancy program, was turned into the Rio Grande Trail. I have personally not had an opportunity to ride any of the Rails-to-Trails paths, so this was an opportunity I was looking forward to experiencing.

This particular trail runs a little over 40 miles between Glenwood Springs and Aspen, Colorado. Our intention was to ride the entire length, but due to time constraints and other obligations, we knew that we likely wouldn’t be able to do so.

The Rio Grande Trail Map

We started our ride fairly early and rain was predicted (though thankfully we never got more than a drizzle during our ride). I came ill-prepared for anything other than blazing hot riding weather, so was fairly cold for most of our ride (and I should know better!) in my sleeveless, ultra-lightweight jersey. Sam, smartly packed layers so had both sun protection and some warmth.

From the campsite, we traveled back into Glenwood Springs and then on to the actual Rio Grande Trail once in the city limits. It is pretty well marked (despite missing the signs the day prior) for the most part, so I don’t think most people would have difficulty finding their way to the start.

Roaring Fork River

The path starts off in the city park area and travels along the Roaring Fork River. The trail has both curvy and rolling, small hill portions for a few miles. It is also incredibly green and lush. After those first few miles, the path is fairly straight (which surprised both of us as we’re used to twisty and turning paths), and has a very slight uphill grade the entire distance toward Aspen. The greenery also turned a bit into a mix of foliage propped up against red mountains.

The trail is, for the most part, in really great condition, and seems to be well-cared for by the conservancy. Even the bridge in the distance seemed to have just had the planks replaced recently.

Since we were riding early, we had the luxury of taking up the entire trail on our outbound trip (we’d have significantly more company on the return). It was a luxury that we enjoyed for as long as possible. I was also impressed that there were several outhouse/bathroom stops along the trail (the one we stopped to use was remarkably clean and well-stocked too), as well has having stop off points in little towns along the path. There were also several benches and picnic tables, which made the entire path feel welcoming to all sorts of people.

One of the many outhouse stops along the trail.

We spotted all sorts of people at various points on the trail. Runners, dog walkers, families biking together, group rides out for a spin, old, young, and everyone in between were taking advantage of this system. We even spotted a tandem duo (which made us a little sad we weren’t on ours – though we were glad to be on all-road/gravel bikes for a couple spots on the ride).

Unfortunately, we knew we were running out of time and ended up only able to ride about half the full length of the Rio Grande Trail, having to turn around just on the outside of Carbondale.

Sam has been playing with a GoPro camera, so there is a short, 1-minute clip of some of the ride below to give a better idea of this particular path, if anyone is interested.

My only real regret about this trip is that we didn’t have the opportunity to ride the entire distance of the trail. I was amazed at the mileage it provided to users, and it also made me realize that I would love to see more of this type of trail system throughout our state. While I realize there are a number of Rails-to-Trails paths throughout the country, having not ridden one myself, I had no idea that they could cover such a long stretch. From what I’ve read, this 40+ mile stretch is nothing compared to others, as some cover over 200 miles!

Hopefully, at some point in the future, we’ll have an opportunity to return and ride the entire length of the trail. Perhaps we’ll even have the chance to ride one in another area. I’d love to be able to compare more than one and to know if they are all as well-maintained and groomed.

If you’ve had an opportunity to ride any of the Rails-to-Trails paths, what did you think of your experience? Have you ridden more than one? What were differences you experienced from one to the next? Feel free to leave your thoughts.

Another Road Bike Testing Adventure: Bianchi Titanium

Road bikes and I have a painful and somewhat traumatic history. I go through spans of time during which I want to be able to pick up speed a bit easier and find myself on a hunt for a lightweight road bike. Generally, after riding the road bike for a short amount of time, I realize that while I am faster on a lighter bike, I am also uncomfortable and end up riding something heavier/slower to not be in pain. At some point, I pretty much decided that I wasn't going to put myself through the agony of a thin-tired road bike anymore. While my body is pretty adaptable to this type of bike, injuries to my hands have made riding such a bike a chore and just generally unpleasant.

But, we all know how things can go. After a few frustrating rounds with various types of bikes and trying to find a happy point with speed, I had decided that I needed to give a dedicated, lightweight road bike a chance again. After a few rounds with bikes that I thought could be happy compromises between comfort and speed, I started to realize that if I genuinely desire a fast road bike, I needed to seek out that sort of bike and stop playing in the middle ground.

In short, I was on a hunt for something that typically doesn't appeal to me, though I still hoped to find the road bike in a steel version. There simply aren't a ton of these available and although there are custom options, goodness knows I have not had great luck with custom made frames, so I was doing everything I could think of to avoid this route. However, not having any luck finding what I wanted, I had given in to the notion that a custom frame was likely in my future yet again.

As stated though, I had no desire to go custom and after hours and hours of researching, I had decided on a stock titanium road frame. It wasn't steel, but it also was not a custom frame, which seemed to put my mind at ease. The one hiccup was that I'd have to wait about six weeks as the frames were still in production. I plunked down my deposit and decided to bide my time while waiting for the frame to arrive.

This frame was being funded with the sale of multiple other bikes, and the thought of spending so much money on something I couldn't test was not ideal nor was it settling well in my mind. After many back-and-forth conversations with the manufacturer, I was pretty convinced that the geometry would work for me. Still, the thought of spending so much on one bike - and not even the whole bike - was really eating at me. Surely, there must be something that would work that I wouldn't have to spend so much money on, I thought.

A few weeks into waiting for the frame, Sam sent a link to a frame that was for sale at a local bike re-seller with the question attached, "Do you think this would work for you?" After taking a peek at the geometry, I really wasn't sure. It had the potential to work, but knowing my history, I was hesitant to even consider it. However, the price alone was reason enough to give it a try. Plus, the company has a 30-day return policy so it seemed a no-brainer, particularly given that the new ti frame I'd planned to buy was going to run 7-8 times the cost.

To be honest, I was a little confused by the frame. I had no idea that Bianchi had ever made a titanium road bike, but here it was, sitting in front of me, clearly marked as such. The fork had been replaced with a new one - nothing special or out of the ordinary - but definitely not the original. So, a full-out internet search was done in an attempt to get any bit of information I could find. Sadly, there really wasn't much to be found.

This 2004 Bianchi EV Titanium frame was a bit of a mystery. There were a few random questions/posts I could find online, but nothing was giving me much information in regard to what to expect of this bike. Having a Bianchi dealer nearby, we went in to see if they could provide any information on the bike, but that was fruitless as well, as they could only share what I'd already been able to determine for myself. I was incredibly curious about this frame though and I just couldn't find answers.

So, I decided to just ride the thing and see how it went. On my first outing, I got a flat early on and didn't have the means to address it, so after a bit of grumbling, I ended up walking the bike home. It wasn't the best start (though I can only blame myself for not being prepared), but many first rides don't begin well for me.  After getting set up to deal with a flat if it should occur, I began riding the Bianchi for test purposes.

The stack of spacers on the fork is a little intense, but with the short headtube, it's necessary for me. It would likely have helped if I cut a bit off the top end, but I'm always hesitant to lose too much on the steerer too soon.

It was a little strange, I must admit. After not riding a true road bike for several years, my body was not used to the positioning and I couldn't determine whether the bike fit me or if I'd just forgotten what it's like to be more leaned over (read: sore neck muscles). The ride itself was smooth, as I'd expect from titanium, but it was going to take a bit of time and miles to see if this bike worked.

What I had determined is that I have become noticeably slower over the last few years, even though my mileage has actually increased. It was a little disappointing to make this realization, but the full build of the bike came in at just about 17 pounds (7.7kg), including my leather saddle and platform pedals, so I knew I certainly could not fault the weight of the bike for my slowness [insert frowny face].

After a few rides on the Bianchi, I was becoming frustrated. Sam followed behind me on one ride to see what was happening and to check my positioning to see if I looked "off." There had also been an annoying grinding sort of sound that I couldn't seem to get rid of over the rides, but I had shrugged it off thinking it had something to do with my bizarre road set up.

We had built this frame up with the same gearing I'd had on a previous bike, giving it a compact crank and 11-40 cassette in the rear. In order to do this, we have to use a special part and I had assumed that the grinding noises had something to do with that.

As it turned out, the chain was actually running through the derailleur incorrectly. In Sam's haste to reassemble after cleaning the chain after my first ride, he had inadvertently reassembled things wrong. Who knew the derailleur would even work like this? After making the change, the grinding noise went away, but the drag that had been created didn't seem to speed me up [insert another frowny face].

I did keep riding though. I was annoyed that I was slow, but I was also determined to figure out if the slowness was entirely me or if it was partially the bike. We did a couple of swaps on the stem to see if that would resolve some of the neck soreness and I would leave for rides determined to push as hard as I could.

The results were a mixed bag. I had days when I was faster and I had days when I was just as slow as I am on any other bike. Sam came along on a couple of rides with me, trying to help me understand if I just wasn't pushing as hard as I thought I was, if I've become slower, or if the bike had some part in it. To be honest, we both have our theories, but my suspicion is that there is a combination of factors at play.

One of the big realizations we made was that I have been comparing rides that are nearly identical to those I'd ridden several years ago and was seeing that I was at least 0.5-2 mph slower overall, which was angering me. What I hadn't calculated is that those rides didn't have a climb at the end of the ride (because we've moved since then). As Sam watched me virtually on one ride he noted that I had been averaging a faster speed, but as soon as I hit that steep climb back home, my average dropped dramatically. Not being a good climber, it started making sense to me and that the only way I'd be able to match prior speeds on the same route would be to go even faster on the ride before I hit the climb at the end. Whether or not that's possible for me remains a question mark.

I pretty well put the Bianchi aside from mid-January until mid-March. The roads were not ideal for this type of bike and I was spending more time on the Surly, so when the season started to have some nicer, sunnier days, it seemed appropriate to get back out and try riding the Bianchi again. I wondered if I'd want to ride it or if it would feel strange after spending so many hours on the Surly.

It surprised me a bit when I took the bike out and found myself happy to push my body. It was nice to have the lightweight option and my legs felt strong, capable even. I still wasn't hitting those average speeds of several years ago, but for some reason having a bit of a break from the bike seemed to let my brain settle and be okay with the fact that I may just be a slower version of myself today than I was 6-8 years ago.  I'll always fight that thought a bit (it's just who I am), but it seemed as though I wasn't as hung up on that piece of things as spring started rolling in. The bottom line is that I can be faster on this bike than any of the other bikes in my fold, I just may not be able to compete with my former self or speeds.

I've realized that the Bianchi is comfortable for what it is, which is not to say that it's "comfortable" in a traditional definition of the word, but rather that I have made peace with the reality that a road bike is a road bike and not a comfort/cruiser/city/all-road/mountain bike. It's just going to feel different than other types of bicycles. I know that I have to be in the right frame of mind (and body) to fully utilize this kind of bike and that's really okay as it was the point of this one.

There may always be a small part of me that will wonder if the newer titanium frame would've suited me better, but deep down, my gut sense is that it would not have been better-enough to justify the difference in cost. The Bianchi has been and continues to be a spirited, excellent ride and if it weren't for my hand/wrist issues, I doubt I'd question anything about this build/bike for its purpose. Even Sam returned from a test ride recently on it and said it's the nicest bike he's ever ridden.

I feel fortunate to have happened across this frame (or rather to have had Sam come across it), and although the first few rides weren't necessarily entirely pleasant, the bike has grown on me as I've reacquainted myself with riding a road bike and I've slowly come to appreciate it for what it is. It is certainly excellent as a road bike.

It is said that titanium is a lifetime-bike material, and given that this frame is 15 years old as of this writing, I hope that those sentiments are in fact actuality. I hope to have this one stick around for many years to come. I may not always want to ride and push myself, but when I do, I think this is and will be a fantastic choice. I'm looking forward to some longer, faster rides on this Bianchi as the weather continues to improve and am glad to have this one among my bikes.

Bicycles and Dogs

Images of dogs running trails/roads with people on bicycles is not an uncommon find on many social media feeds, outdoor websites and the like. In the summer months, this is a very common happening for individuals across the US and the world. I find myself with a bit of envy as I watch others ride trails with their off-leash dogs and consistently also find myself wondering where they are riding that allows this activity.

*Image from Redstone Cyclery's feed

Locally, there are designated off-leash trails that can be hiked with dogs (assuming that the proper paperwork/classes have been filed/taken), but most riding trails I've discovered do not allow this activity. I suppose it's entirely plausible that people ignore the signs and let their dog off leash anyway to follow and romp while they ride their bike. But, when I see these images online, it causes me a bit of pause as I find that I feel guilty leaving my own pups at home to go and ride. While the dogs most definitely get more than their share of exercise, I often think it would be such a fun activity to share with them - at least in the right circumstances. Granted, one of them is nearly completely blind now and can't run very far at this point in life, but the other would completely enjoy this activity, I'm certain.

With short and rare exceptions, I have had a dog the entirety of my life. I consider them part of the family and treat them as such (perhaps they are treated too much like family in some people's eyes). I consider them my "children," though I'm entirely aware that they are canines and when I communicate with or scold them, it is really more for my benefit than theirs. Still, I like to include them in as many activities as possible throughout the day. Dogs are people/pack-creatures and don't like being left alone for long stretches of time (or at least, I've never had a dog in my life that enjoyed being alone for several hours).

*Image from Ten Meters from the Hut feed

Over the last several years, I've tried to come to terms with having dogs and enjoying riding bikes. It may seem a strange thing to struggle with, but these are probably the two biggest joys I have in life, and often I find that they can be at odds with each other. My dogs are nearly always with me, a habit that has developed over the years of primarily working from home. They know there are certain times of the day that they will be alone and they are fine having that time, but if I'm gone for several hours during the day on a regular basis, they start to find ways to show their dissatisfaction.

This reality is one of the biggest factors that has kept me from moving in a direction of bike touring. I simply cannot imagine leaving these furry, four-legged loves alone for several days or in a dog-motel. At one point, I had pondered taking them with me - towing them in a carrying container; however, pulling 115-120 pounds of dog, not including the gear we'd need just strikes me as unreasonable - at least for me, though I'm sure there are those who have done it.

These fur-loves of mine are also a big reason I don't pursue longer distances on a bike. I watch others who participate in brevets of varying sort and I find myself wanting to push some of my personal limits to see what I am capable of doing. While I know it's possible to do these events and still have dogs in my life, the amount of saddle time training required of me and knowing that I'd be leaving them for very long days unattended breaks my heart. An occasional century or all-day ride is doable, but multi-day events become a much bigger challenge.

*Image from Randi Jo Fabrications feed

There are many people who have dogs and still ride bikes. These two don't necessarily have to conflict. Obviously, I do ride a bike and have dogs, but I cannot help but find myself wanting to combine the two facets of life and enjoy them simultaneously.

Admittedly, I seem to have made my choice, whether it's a conscious one or not. I have definitely chosen to limit time on a bicycle to have the ability to devote an equitable share to these critters I love so much. I suppose in some ways it is the best balance I've been able to achieve to date without feeling as though one area is lacking. Maybe one day I'll find these mysteriously hidden trails where dogs run freely, but until then these two areas of life remain separate. Thankfully, I don't have to choose one over the other, but I do have to make periodic concessions in order to keep the balance.

Bring on the new year!

It has been a bit of a struggle to write an end of year post, as must be obvious given that we've now entered the new year. Though 2018 wasn't a horrible year by any means for me personally, it's always a challenge to figure out how to sum up the prior months without sounding at least a bit trite and/or making myself somehow feel bad about what I didn't accomplish. Still, I find myself wanting to review a bit and acknowledge both the good moments and the areas that could use improvement in the coming year.

The year did not start off as great as my brain seems to want to recall, but this lack of riding is typical, I suppose, when the weather turns cold and snow is expected. However, there wasn't much snow to contend with, so I suppose this fantasy memory is more a way to mentally deal with my own failure to get motivated by blaming the weather.

February was my absolute worst month of 2018 in regard to both working out and riding. I rode to the gym twice that month (I went to the gym slightly more regularly, but didn't ride there), and that was the extent of my riding for February, sadly. Not even a single tandem ride that month, which, when pointed out to Sam, surprised even him as we both felt like we rode quite a bit during the prior winter. I was also quite sick during this time and that's something I suppose should be accounted for in my lack of activity for February. When feeling near-death, it's difficult to do much of anything (for anyone who went through the rounds of the nasty flu spreading around last year, I'm sure you can identify).

Oddly (though not surprising to me, as I've stated prior that the end of year tends to be a good time for me), December was my best ("best" in this instance being defined as longest amount of time spent doing an activity) month for both working out and riding a bike. Truly, October through December I was in my groove for the year, which gives me hope for 2019, and a glimmer of possibility that things will improve from that point. But, I am also aware that I cannot control the weather, and while I'm willing to brave the cold, I am far too klutzy to venture out on two wheels when ice is covering the roads.

I spent a good portion of the year trying to "figure out" my bike situation. Having sold off several bikes, I was at a bit of a loss as far as which direction to go to settle in on a small group of bicycles that would suit my purposes. Road rides (or dirt ones for that matter) were taken on with my trusty Hillborne for much of the year. I went through a trial with an adventure bike that I believed I could turn into a road bike, which was quite unsuccessful. I also tried out another Rivendell as a road bike and found that it was just too much a duplicate of the one I already own to be practical as a true road steed. Another trial made its way to me later in the year (I'll be writing about that at some point too, but want to spend some additional time with it before sharing more) which helped add to my road mileage for the latter part of 2018.

A mountain bike came into my life during the summer, and while a mountain bike itself is not all that surprising a purchase, the type of mountain bike and the fact that it's been a bike I've truly enjoyed was quite a shock. Riding some technical routes has been an interesting change up to my typical riding habits and hopefully will provide additional strength for all sorts of activities.

Sam and I continued to ride our Hubbuhubbuh tandem throughout the year and even added another tandem to our bikes. We still haven't decided which is our favorite (we've had good and bad rides on both), but we found ourselves doing our best to switch back and forth between the two so that neither is favored over the other. Still, the HHH wins as far as mileage is concerned for 2018 - by far, with about three times as many miles traveled.

Although I usually try to throw in some kind of race or event during the year, the only athletic event that made the list for 2018 was the Fight for Air stair climb in March. I try to throw in at least one event to keep myself in training mode, but the right event just never materialized. I had hoped we would complete one on the tandem too, but I suppose there is time for that in 2019. I suppose we did ride in an ALS fundraiser on St Patrick's Day, but that didn't quite qualify as a true athletic event in my mind.

This is the first year in many that I have felt at all capable. Which is not to say that I am in my prime -- I certainly am not -- but it is the first in several that I have felt the fire inside, that drive to do more and actually had the ability to, at least partially, execute. Whether this is actual, physical improvement to injuries or just a stronger will to push past them, I frankly don't know, but it's been nice to feel things -- strength, good pain, internal changes to my body -- that I haven't felt in some time. This feeling didn't quite get to me until about halfway through the year, but I'm glad it made it and hope that it is a start to build from and that the current year will bring further improvement.

I am doing my best to be cautious with ambitions for the new year. As has been stated in the past, I'm not one for making resolutions this time of year, but I also don't want to sit back and allow excuses or injuries to take hold. I want to set myself up for successful moments, but don't want to become overwhelmed by too much either. It's a tricky balance sometimes to find the right amount of push with an appropriate dosage of rest as well. I can easily be taken in by an all-or-nothing type of thinking, and I don't want that to be the case, especially when it comes to riding.

One of the things I'm grateful for is that riding in adulthood didn't start out as an attempt at racing, as it does for some. I enjoy being on a bicycle because I get to experience sensations that I wouldn't while driving, like smelling bread baking in a shop or seeing the first blooms in spring, and I don't want to lose that side of riding a bike with a desire to go farther or ride faster. It's always important to stop and smell the roses because it's one of the beautiful things about riding. I am continually striving to find the balance between stopping to observe moments and pushing limits, and which side of me wins out on a particular ride seems to be very unpredictable.

I have hopes to write more on the blog this year too. It's slowed down over the last few with life happenings and time just feeling as though it's at a premium. Being able to ride has taken precedence over writing about riding, certainly, and I think most of us can understand that. Still, I want to make time to share and to hear about others adventures, so perhaps the balance in this area will become better in 2019. Only time will tell.

Knowing what is coming this year is not something I can foresee, but I look forward to continuing to ride and enjoy, as I hope you do too. I'd love to hear what others have planned for 2019 as well, so please do share your goals, dreams, and aspirations for the coming year as you see fit.

From the EVL family to yours, wishing you a happy, healthy, and prosperous new year with the most fun riding you've enjoyed yet! Happy New Year! Let's make 2019 a great year!