Lazy summer riding: 215 days and counting

Smile from the trail.

A few odds and ends from the past week or so. It is now at the point in the summer when the time seems to be speeding toward Labor Day; it's the same sort of phenomenon that made it difficult for me to enjoy Sunday afternoons as a kid. Looming responsibilities and school somehow seem to cut into enjoying the moment.

In any case, I have maintained my consecutive days of riding, which total 215 as of today. What may have been a bit of a challenge to continue early on has considerable momentum now, and even a family road trip coming up soon doesn't hold much threat to breaking my streak. Daily rides for transportation and daily rides to keep either kids or dog happy contribute to the mass of the spinning flywheel.

A few nights ago, we came upon a fire burning near the dirt trails in our neighborhood park. Julie saw a few teenage boys running from the direction of the flames, but I was too concentrated on the flames themselves and whether anyone had yet called the fire department to notice them. Within minutes, the flames were more than ten feet tall and the area was crackling.

Julie rode to the site of the fire to see if anyone needed help.

Several people at the park called fire and police, and trucks arrived within a few minutes.

We haven't yet found out exactly what happened, but it's likely a group of teenage boys were up to no good. For our girls, it was exciting to be on the arriving end of a fire truck excursion. The firemen had the flames out within a couple of minutes, but smoke and falling ash stayed in the area for some time. Fortunately, there were no injuries and the damage was minimal. A couple of days later, we surveyed the site.

Poor quality phone cam doesn't show a lot, but much of the underbrush here was turned to ash.

The trees in the fire area appear mostly unchanged.

A day after the fire, we attended a local outdoor concert. The highlight of the music was Sousa's Washington Post March, which seemed just about perfect for an evening ride.

The Dummy makes a good seat or picnic table, or provides a little shade during outdoor events.

The low evening sun and a backdrop of threatening clouds makes for some great imagery that I am just barely capable of capturing.

Earlier in the week, our out-of-town guests departed, but not before I took the girls out for one last ride. They took the opportunity to practice some skidding, and were impressed with my stories as a kid of skidding my way through tires all the way down to the cords. Perhaps their parents will have to foot the bill for some new tires for their bikes back home.

Yesterday, I was among a small group who took a B-cycle ride with Mayor Hancock of Denver. The purpose was to observe some infrastructural improvements in a couple of neighborhoods, as well as to see where there are shortcomings in the network. From an advocacy standpoint, it is encouraging to see bicycling issues taking a higher profile than they have in the past, though I have enough experience to know that improvements are hard won and take a lot of time and effort.

Mayor Hancock on the left, as Phil of Denver B-cycle leads the way.

After the ride and on the way to the office, I spotted a derelict and partially stripped Fisher Advance, predating the Trek buyout, circa 1990. It's always sad to see a nice old steel bike go out like this. 

Other people's bikes: Unexpected Bridgestone edition

A 1993 Bridgestone MB-1. Crappy phone-cam pics to follow, this one with the saddle artfully cut off. 

Fair warning: the following may only be appreciated and/or comprehended by extreme bike nerds. Proceed at your own risk.

Few bike brands stoke devotion to such a rarefied degree that a loyal following remains dogmatic nearly two decades after going defunct. Indeed, it may only be Bridgestone that fits this description. I admit that I have long been within the spectrum of Bridgestone devotees, though certainly not as close to ideological purity as I once may have been. Yet, I still have an ingrained ability to spot and identify a Bridgestone bike with even a fleeting glimpse.

At the Wellington E. Webb Municipal Building today, a 1993 Bridgestone MB-1 drew my focus from a block away. In its day, this was the top of the line off road machine Bridgestone offered, during its penultimate year. As I approached, it was clear that this particular bike had few, if any, parts original to the frame. In fact, the bike exhibited many of the characteristics of a cast-off frame turned ignominious workhorse; a semi-abused daily commuting mongrel, cast to a lot in life more typically assigned to much "lesser" models and/or brands. Such bikes often have the outward appearance of having been flogged to within an inch of life, but are generally in fairly honed operational condition. In an urban setting, such a bike is not appealing enough to steal, but well suited for transportation.

Please note that the following comments are not meant to be disparaging, but are merely a processing of the incongruity of the sighting with which I am apparently still struggling.

Its solitary shifter predates the bike by about a decade: a Shimano Deer Head (XT) unit, circa 1984. The circa '88 Ritchey stem looks to have been painted with bronze-colored nail polish.

A rider too tall: the modern cheap-ish saddle is jacked up high on what I'm estimating to be a 49cm frame. The bike is locked with a cheap cable lock, almost as an afterthought.

Inexpensive chromed replacement fork with ill-fitting fender, sans brakes. Originally, the bike would've had a revived Ritchey biplane fork; bewildering to all but the devoted during the suspension boom of '93, but now highly sought.

Off-kilter rear rack and fender with a custom mounted rear light, courtesy of about half a roll of tape.

Neglected drivetrain features an era-inconsistent XT derailleur, a 7-speed freewheel, and a yellowed pie plate.

While the case is strong that Bridgestone made good bikes, in a time of explosive technological bike development, the company seemingly became too esoteric for its own good. Exhibit A in this argument are the company's entertaining, yet increasingly ethereal catalogs. That's not to say that many of the concepts embodied by Bridgestone weren't correct, as many of its best ideas have found renewed, strong affirmation since the company's demise. However, as a too-small-to-be-large-but-too-large-to-be-small, and perhaps too fundamentally serious bike company, it couldn't control the growing industrial beast that its innovation initially helped to create. In the end, Bridgestone's undoing was its dependence on the stolid rationality of its artisanal analog instruments, in the midst of an increasingly disposable digital world. Though the model didn't work at the desired scale, its proponents, most obviously Grant Peterson, have established residence in more viable climes.

It is within this context that I was oddly struck with the application put to this particular MB-1. I'm not exactly sure why I perceived the encounter as being so strange, as within my own general philosophy, a bike serving a useful transportation purpose is the best kind of bike. The cumulative nonchalance of the construction of this brute indicates a utilitarian survivor in the most positive sense; the polar opposite of a garage queen. Yet, my gut reaction reveals something about my psyche. To see a revered upper-echelon Bridgestone frame so mundanely and apathetically outfitted is unsettling, regardless of its usefulness. Something to ponder.

Congrats if you've made it this far, bike nerd. Continuing gratitude to Shawn (who also happens to be a newly minted Bridgestone owner) for putting the term "other people's bikes" out there, aptly describing the bike gawking activity in which I have been participating for decades.

For the record, only trace amounts of snow from yesterday's storm remained in the basket of this Denver B-cycle during my evening commute.

Visit to Albuquerque, Part 1

Seven year-old dirt bikin' cousins; each sporting pink and polka dots in her own way.

Update: See Part 2 here.

It had been quite some time since we traveled to another place as a family. So, this past weekend we took a road trip to visit my brother Chris and his family in Albuquerque. Between the two groups, we have a lot of girls and a lot of bikes, so naturally this situation called for some riding. Luckily, Albuquerque has a lot of great places for bikes, and among the best for biking families is the Paseo del Bosque Trail.

Scout and Pugsley are just as happy in the warm and dry as they've been in the cold and snowy.

My sister-in-law Jen recently surprised my brother with a new bike as a gift: an enormous XXL 24-inch frame Surly Ogre 29er. It was the first new bike for Chris in 23 years. He gave me his previous new bike in 2006, after 16 years of heavy service. In the interim, he had been riding his original mountain bike that he bought with earnings from a job at Dairy Queen during high school, a 1989 GT Avalanche that I rebuilt for him several years ago. The old GT had been his commuter/do-it-all bike, going through numerous drivetrains and a couple of DIY paint jobs. He deserves a lot of credit for making do with an existing bike, but as with any infrequently maintained machine under constant use, at some point it just makes sense to start anew. When Jen asked me to surreptitiously help her in the search, I didn't hesitate.

Chris remarked that it took him a while to become accustomed to riding the new bike, and I don't doubt it. At six feet, six inches tall, it's probably the first bike he has had as an adult that actually fits him. Curiously, at 6'1", I was able to ride his Ogre without feeling too stretched out, and cleared the top tube, if only by a slim margin. However, I would likely feel uncomfortable on the bike in rough trail conditions.

A big galoot on a giant Ogre.

One of the many snazzy houses along parts of the trail.

After inevitably taking a bit more time than expected both in exploring the trail and in the general nature of any activity involving a gaggle of kids, we neared one of our planned stops. We were met by a familiar-looking Gypsy on a familiar-looking bike, who led us into the Old Town Farm. Nicholas and Lael are world-class bike adventurers who have lived on the farm along the Bosque Trail for much of their time in Albuquerque, where they landed long enough to spend the winter.

The Old Town Farm is an idyllic oasis along the river, full of gardens, animals, old buildings and sundry equipment. The two adventurers seem to lead charmed lives, as one would be hard pressed to find a more pleasant place to winter in Albuquerque. One of the features of the farm is Bike-In Coffee, a food and drink establishment housed in a vintage RV, and which caters to bike traffic along the trail. Lael and Nicholas are naturals to operate such an enterprise; their fine rhubarb cake, chai lattes, hot cocoa and conversation were much enjoyed by our horde.

Rolling past the paddocks on the way to the farm.

Bike-in Coffee would do well in a lot of places. Great idea and execution.

It's unlikely that many Pugsleys have seen as many miles and places as this one.  It's in need of a new owner, so if you're in the market for a well-equipped fatbike with good karma, contact Nicholas.

Lael's seasoned '08 Raleigh XXIX in the foreground, Julie's new-to-her '09 Raleigh XXIX in the middle, and Jen's '99-ish Gary Fisher Big Sur with a Trek tagalong.

24" Surly Ogre, Trek Mountain Lion, and Kona Makena.

Getting close to closing up shop for the day. Lael's got a new pair of the Clarks boots she favors for seemingly all things, short of winning ultramarathons.

Sky-high five. 

Meeting Nicholas and Lael on their way to the Colorado Trail last year captured her imagination on what can be done by bike. We'll be keenly following their European travels.

Jen and Rosa are under way. Doesn't Jen look like she could use a nice steel 29er with a more upright riding position?

The farm's circa 1938 or '39 Ford truck.

Nicholas and Lael have ridden in some very scenic areas along challenging routes, and in a broad variety of locales. As impressive is the way in which they live; life on a bike encourages material simplicity, and a portfolio of experiences accrues value more dependably than many other investment possibilities. While it's not feasible for many of us to pursue the same path, a lot can be said for attempting to limit material accumulation and enjoying life as it occurs.

I bought this Revelate Sweet Roll bikepacking bag from Nicholas, who is dropping ballast in anticipation of a new adventure. I hope to put it to good use this year.

Back on the trail, this time on a paved stretch, though I stuck to the dirt alongside. 

I chatted for a while with the rider of this heavily modified three-speed mixte, and only thought to get a photo as she rode away.

At the end of our ride, kids, adults, and even dog were tired and hungry. We ended up at El Pinto, a restaurant and manufacturer of one of my favorite brands of salsa. Overall, a great day in Albuquerque. Part II coming soon.

81 days and counting

My Pugsley sporting a borrowed 29er wheel on the front for a test fitting.

I haven't had much time for the old blog as of recent, but that doesn't mean that I haven't had time to ride. In fact, I've now ridden a bike every day consecutively for the past 81 days. I don't have an established record of consecutive days of riding, as I've never previously kept track. I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who have by far surpassed this number, like this guy, but keeping up the streak has become enough of a game that I'm now angling to hit 100+ days in a row. This all started with the TSBC challenge toward the end of last year, which has, at least for me, been ongoing and wildly successful. Thanks again, Tarik!

As for the photo above, I have not yet jumped to acquisition of a set of 29er wheels for my Pugsley, but continue to weigh the possibilities as I gather funds. As the photo shows, I test fitted a symmetrical rear 29er wheel on the Moonlander fork of my Pugsley, and am happy to report that it all fit perfectly. By extension, I can also report that there is a new-to-us bike in the family. Nope, it's not mine. Julie enjoyed riding on dirt and gravel last year enough that she asked me to help her find a more suitable off-road machine than her venerable, but pavement-centric Breezer mommy bike. As you may have guessed, the new bike is a 29er, details of which are to follow in a subsequent post. As you may have also guessed, I'm probably even more excited than she is about the prospect of a future filled with dirt biking family rides.

Until next time, enjoy a few random images of things that I've seen or encountered since I last posted here.

I made a trip to Boulder, where their B-cycle system remains open year-around. It was nice to be back on the red bikes. 

Bike gawking opportunities abound in Boulder, where I spotted this ship-shape Kona Ute at a grocery store.

I was a fan of Peugeot mountain bikes in the old days, so I enjoyed seeing this one in Boulder, which is a cobbled together survivor with a 700c front wheel.

This is a bike blog, but there are a few motorized rigs I enjoy enough to include. I spotted this circa-mid '70s era International Scout during a ride.

I've long admired the simple utility of International four-wheel drives. I've written before about the lost prowess of quality American manufacturing of days gone by, of which vehicles like this are an enduring monument.  

Yesterday, I took part in a Denver B-cycle event to celebrate the opening of two new stations at the Denver Zoo and the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. Here, Mayor Hancock speaks just before the ride.

My inaugural Denver B-cycle ride of the season was on Number 045. The system officially opens for the year next Monday.

Here are some of the VIPs riding B-cycles to the event. Believe it or not, I'm one of them. Not shown: me in a suit. You'll have to take my word for it.