Beyond MF: Asphalt Risin'

October 4th, 2009: Asphalt Risin'


Song of the Day: Fu Manchu, Asphalt Risin' from In Search Of...



Would it seem like life in fast-forward? Would it seem like magic? I put my car into reverse and back out the driveway. I'm disappointed; it all seems so normal, so familiar. Just like getting on a bike, how ironic. I'm sitting in a car for the first time in 35 days. 35 days of auto-self-denial, killed off by a driving trip to Denver. I was hoping that it would feel strange, being in a car again, but it just felt like any other day. Maybe that was the problem; the previous 35 days were the exception, they were the aberration. This was reality.


One thing I enjoyed right away; interior climate control. What a feature! You want to warm up? Red bars! Cool down? Blue bars! I don't really have to plan ahead when I go out in a car. Is it hot out? cold? windy? raining? Don't care so much. Got this miniature self-propelled shelter on wheels here. Very convenient. And I'm hopelessly overdressed, sitting in the car at this moment, wearing a sweatshirt and a jacket. I'll have to peel off those items in a few minutes.



On to the stereo. I look at it. What a delight! I absolutely love music. When the stereo died in this car earlier in the Summer (wouldn't play CDs anymore, just the radio), I immediately sprung for a new car stereo even though I don't drive the car nearly as much as my wife. C_ thought I was a little nuts for that. On the bike there are no tunes to distract and amuse yours truly. Some choose to ride with music anyway; I think it is rather dangerous to do so, but I understand the appeal. I missed cranking the tunes in the car during my exile on bike street. I really do think rock music was made for the auto. In fact I'd go so far as to say that we might not really even have rock music if it wasn't for the auto. Just think about all the rock songs about cars! Little Red Corvette, Thunder Road, Truckin', Little Deuce Coupe, Highway Star, that Gary Neuman song, the list goes on. A comparative list of rock songs for bikes pretty much begins and ends with Bicycle Race by Queen. A solid entry no doubt, but a lonely stalwart in comparison. So sitting now with the car stereo in reach was a joyous reunion after a long forced absence from a best friend. And yet, there sat the stereo, silent. I'm not sure what I was thinking, maybe I felt like it would be too much of a distraction right away. I have to admit I got used to travelling without it. Maybe I wanted to savor the thought of listening to music in the car before actually participating in the activity. The knowledge that I could listen to music was quite enough to satisfy. Maybe I wanted to listen to the music of the engine for a while. To experience the new sounds of driving. I was content without the stereo, for now.


It all came back to me right away, the actual mechanics of driving. So many movements of hands and feet! The mechanics of riding a bicycle are fairly straightforward on city streets, provided one is relatively sober and the roads are dry and there is some available light. Left foot, right foot, steer, brake, shift if you have gears, even that's optional. Cars, particularly manual transmission cars, are a spasmodic dance routine in comparison. Right hand shift. Left foot clutch. Right foot brake. Left hand steer. Left foot off clutch/Right hand off shifter. Right foot gas. Left pinkie turn-signal. Right hand air-vent. Right hand steer. Repeat. Why it's quite difficult, actually, all these coordinated movements. We take it for granted because we do them so frequently. And I'm doing them without having to think about it, I haven't skipped a beat. There's a certain rhythm to it. I imagine drummers make good drivers, at least provided the traffic signals are timed properly, and they're not too distracted tapping out "YYZ" on the steering wheel to be bothered to actually steer the wheel.


I remember once driving in New Zealand, where they drive on the "other" side of the road. I was all messed up then. Of course the shifter was on my left, and the turn-signal on my right. And the car window was on my right shoulder. Thank goodness the pedals retained the same configuration. Could you imagine if the gas and brake and clutch were reversed as well! Not to mention the act of turning that turned every intersection into an Esher drawing, with cars coming out of impossible places and surprising configurations. It's small wonder that I ran into a curb on a bridge and caused a flat tyre some 15 minutes after taking the wheel on those narrow Kiwi roads. That backwards Queens-driving I fear I'll never get used to; but driving American-style was no problem after a prolonged absence.



We spend so much time in our cars, perfecting these movements, that it actually gets a little boring and routine. So we feel the need to spice it up a bit. Time to get a cup of coffee! And call my friend on the cell phone! And update my facebook profile ("I'm driving!")! And read the liner notes from one of my CDs in the passenger seat! All at once!!! Now we're talking; this provides the necessary degree of difficulty to make driving exciting again. And I must point out that it would be well nigh impossible to do all of these things while riding a bike. It's merely stupid to do them in a car, which puts me in the fine company of 98% of the rest of the drivers out there. Oh yes, I'm watching out for cyclists and stuff. Uh-huh. I must admit that I've frequently ridden my bike to work with a cup of coffee in my hand, it's not too difficult. Mostly you have to wait until stops to take a sip though. And I've had more phone conversations than I care to admit from the seat of my cycle. Yeah (pant, pant), I'm on my bike (pant, pant), I know it's stupid (pant, pant), well you (pant), called me (pant), k c'ya bye. Riveting dialogue there. No one said bikers were the most intelligent ones. But we can't claim any moral superiority to drivers here. If bikers could figure out a way to do their makeup and text their bff's while riding, they would.



So I got my cup of coffee, wound my way through town, and headed out towards the interstate. I made a right turn on to the access ramp, and pressed the accelerator as I merged into traffic. 5th gear engaged as the needle arched over the top of the speedometer. 50, 60, 70, 80 mph. There it happened, finally, the moment I was hoping for; just for an instant I felt it. I felt the car accelerate, I felt the force of acceleration literally push me back into my seat. Just a little, but it was a sensation I'd not experienced in several weeks. This power of acceleration! Exhilarating! In the car, going fast, isolated from the environment, one really can lose touch as to how fast one is actually going. Maybe I should have opted for a convertible or a motorcycle. Regardless, once I attained interstate cruising speed it didn't really feel all that fast. Doubtless caused by the separation between me and the road as much as anything else. But there was no denying the force of acceleration as I took the car from 50 to 80. Going fast, ho hum. Getting fast, now that's something! Does it have a hemi? Sweeeet!

And that was it, really. And just the one time too! That was my one and only Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer moment. The next time I did that, accelerated quickly that is, I felt nothing. I mean I felt the force push me back into my seat again, but I had grown accustomed to it once again, the novelty had worn off, it was not exhilarating, I had assimilated.

Then, finally, it was time for the stereo. I turned the volume up to 11 and felt the music fill the space in the car. The music never sounded so good, tearing down the interstate on a sunny Autumn day. I settled back and cruised, and thought about how much farther back I'd be on my bike on this day. I really felt no regret or guilt for driving the car this day, more like an academic curiosity about what it would have taken to ride to Denver again. I appreciated the fact that I could zip down to Denver in 1 hour instead of the 6 or so it took me the other week. I thought also though about what I was giving up, driving in my self-constrained box. It's not a sense of eco-superiority, although I surely gave that up. I think I felt a little melancholy remorse at missing out on the chance of adventure. Everyone drives, it's easy, it's convenient. It's isolated, too, and lonely. I hit some traffic on the interstate on the way home from the game (go Broncos!). The light was fading and I was facing a sea of red brake lights on the road. Everyone else was in their cars, facing straight-ahead, lost in their own little worlds. There was no interaction between us, between them, no awareness of our environment. There was no anger, just bland resignation, just another traffic jam on the freeway in the dusk. It was all rather depressing. Is this what we do now? Sit in our cars and stare ahead at the tail lights in front of us? The whole world at our disposal. I could be in Mexico in less than 24 hours in this thing. But mostly my world has shrunk to the span of the interior of this car, and the space of asphalt between the front of my car and the rear of the car in front of me. I can be bounded by a nutshell, or a car-shell, and call myself a king of infinite space, but those are just words (words, words); I'm still bounded, no matter how much freedom I tell myself I have.

On a bike things are different. Like it or not, you're connected to the environment. You feel the sun and rain on your face. You hear the sound of the wind in the trees, the other cars and bikes. You interact, you say hello to the crossing-guard at the school. You wave to the other cyclists, the joggers, the moms with their strollers. You don't really do that in a car. They all go by too quickly. You don't have time to really see anyone else. Particularly other motorists, but pedestrians as well. And they don't really see you in your car, they mostly just see the car. You're just another automaton on the Autobahn. In a car you affect the scene, but you're not part of the scene. On bike the scene effects you as much as you affect it. There's an interplay you get that doesn't exist in car-travel. It's the play of life, really, and you get to participate. It may seem insignificant, but at a minimum you get used to it, and may start to miss it.

I'll be back on the bike on Monday, I've grown accustomed to it. I'll call my new campaign "MFMF" -- Motor Free Monday Friday. But it's more of a guideline than a rule. You'll see me in the car, driving fast, eating a sandwich and blasting tunes. I am still American, after all!

MFM Day 35: Don't Let's Start

October 3rd, 2009


Motor Free Month Day 35: Don't Let's Start


34 degrees. That'd be 34 Fahrenheit, not Celsius. Maybe we should have started the ride at 9? Well it's 8, and that's that. The blood in my brain was moving like the syrup on the pancakes I just ate at the Rainbow Cafe, and those synapses were not firing. Must. pedal. bike. We started the ride and I immediately took our group of 8 the wrong way through CSU campus, so we had to backtrack to get back to the original route. Can't stick to a plan for more than, oh, 30 seconds it seems like. Also we were all moving very slowly at this early and frigid hour of the morning. My knuckles were freezing and my toes were numb.


This was the final day of Motor Free "Month", 35 days of living without setting foot in any sort of motorized transport. To celebrate this final day, I and some friends rode our bikes from Fort Collins to Boulder for lunch, and then back to the Fort. A nice 100 mile ride. The ride was named "Noodles 2 Noodles" (everything has to have a name) since the start, turn-around, and end were at Noodles & Co. locations. I suppose it could have been called Noodles 2 Noodles 2 Noodles? I wonder if I could figure out a ride whose initials were H1N1?



Regardless of the name, or perhaps because of it, I was actually able to convince 7 other people to join me on this ride. It was to be C_'s first century ride. Several friends of mine also joined: Jim and Katrinka were game as well, and also Jeff and Emma. The 4 of them had rode "E-Rock" earlier this year and were excited to ride another century, particularly an easier century ride with a cooler name. Tony joined us as well. He was an experienced cyclist who also rode with us earlier this year at the CFF charity ride to Ward. Rounding out the 8 was our ringer Felix, who quite recently successfully completed a solo 200 mile ride in one day, from Fort Collins to Walden and back, surmounting Cameron Pass twice on the attempt. I wasn't too worried about Felix finishing the ride. Or breaking a sweat.


Our route to Boulder took "The Back Way". This is a lovely and flat route that generally tacks West towards Boulder at is meanders through the back roads of Larimer and Boulder counties. It's a nice way to get between the two cities by car as well, if you have a little extra time. On bike it's probably the fastest route between the same two cities. Curious that the same route could be the slowest (Standard route) via car, and the fastest via bike. Clicking on the map will take you to an interactive map of the route. Much of the first 10 miles of the route were the same as my ride to Denver the previous week, due to the paving detour fiasco that time. Today there would be no construction messes; we knew that Hwy 66 between Longmont and Lyons was all torn up, so we opted for the straight shot through Hygiene instead of the more scenic but more difficult "36" route via Lyons. Ironically we had to stop on the route in nearly exactly the same spot as my construction detour, but one mile West, when Jim got a flat tire not even 10 miles into the ride. This was to be our only mishap of the day, thankfully. And now that I've given away that nothing really crazy happened during the ride, I'll be hard-pressed to keep your interest, patient reader. But I'll try nonetheless.










I found that it was easier riding with a group instead of solo. I frequently found myself happily putzing along in the back of the group, enjoying the nice draft effect. When I rode to Denver I was completely on my own, so I obviously got no drafting benefits. Apparently drafting can reduce the effort required to cycle by 25% or more. Meaning if I drafted the whole way, I could expend only 75 miles worth of effort on a 100 mile ride. Of course someone has to lead the pack and put forth the 100% effort -- we can't all draft! I did take a few turns up front but I don't think I pulled my weight there; mostly I was content to hang out back. With 8 people on a 100 mile ride, if each person did their share of leading, then each person would lead the pack for only 12.5 miles. If we were organized we probably would have come up with a system for switching up leaders and what not. As it was we were not terribly organized, nor were any of us racers, so we really had no idea what we were doing. The group tended to get split up into two or more smaller groups fairly frequently, which meant that 2 or more people had to put forth full effort instead of only one. And none of us were all that great at maintaining a steady pace, which made staying together difficult and somewhat dangerous. And frankly I wasn't paying much attention to staying on the wheel of the person in front of me, and I frequently found myself far behind the slipstream of the pack, and needing to bust my butt to get back in the pack several times.



For you non-biker-types, that's why you see all the bike racers all bunched up in the big peleton during le tour. They're just straight-up lazy, ha ha. I suppose that's why those flat Tour de France stages are so boring; there's hardly any reason or opportunity to break away and win those stages until the very end. Why don't they just do a 5 mile race on those days? Only the last 5 miles seem to matter anyway! It is interesting being in the slipstream of another rider's wake. You can tell you are drafting by the lack of wind, and it's even a little warmer. You start to catch yourself wondering, "jeez, why isn't (so and so leader) pedaling any faster? This is a really easy pace!" not remembering of course that they are having to work 25% harder than you to maintain that pace. If it feels easy, big boy, why don't you take a turn up front!



Overall we were not as organized as the massive groups or riders we saw in Boulder County that day. But when the group was all together it really worked! And besides, it was a lot more fun to ride with friends than on my own. A 100 mile solo ride is an awfully long time to be without any communication aside from the voices in one's head, which in my case are fairly entertaining, but probably not good for my mental state.






We arrived at the turn-around Noodles in Boulder (the one by Ideal Market) at about 11:45 am. That was about 3 hours and 17 minutes "in the saddle" as they say, and close to 3 hours and 45 minutes transit time when breaks are taken into account. I was able to meet up with my friends Mike and Valia, Ken, and Kathy, and assorted progeny for lunch. The MFM theory tested today was, how difficult is it to meet someone for lunch in Boulder? Apparently it's possible, provided you have about 8 hours to spend doing it, and your friends don't mind waiting about 30 minutes at Noodles & Co. for you to arrive. Not terribly convenient, truth be told, but kind of fun.



Our gang spent at least an hour at the cafe before saddling up and starting home again. The weather had warmed up nicely and there was little if any wind. We really got lucky with the weather this day. Unlike running which one can do under almost any conditions, biking does have a threshold of atmospheric crappiness below which riding really can't occur. Aside from the cold temperatures that bedeviled us in the first hour, we were far above that line and enjoyed a beautiful ride home. Emma's husband Blake met us at about the halfway point between Boulder and Fort Collins, and we enjoyed a bona fide aid station complete with bananas, cookies, bagels, and water. That was awesome!



Like I said, the ride was uneventful in the epic sort of way, unless one considers the accumulation of miles in and of themselves to be epic. We hit 90 miles just north of Loveland, and with just one more hill to climb on the South ramparts of Fort Collins, we knew we had this ride "in the bag". Consequently it seemed like the group really started to splinter at this point. Every man for themselves! Last one to Noodles is a wet noodle! All the stoplights in town served to keep the group together, but everyone was excited to be done, and ready to be done. And after a quick shortcut back through campus that actually was a shortcut this time, we found ourselves back at the original Noodles.



Done at last! A quick celebratory drink at the Pickle Barrel, and the group split up for good. Thus concluding Motor Free Month for yours truly. But that zombie wouldn't die. There was one more trip left in the 'ol month it seems. Besides, even considering the extra distance to and from our house to the start of N2N(2N) I don't think we had covered the requisite 100 miles to consider our journey a "century". So back on the bikes we got, to go to a friend's house for a housewarming party. The riding was slow on tired legs but C_ and I sucked it up and did it. This was one trip I'd have gladly done in the car had I not been Motor Free.


Now finally, returning home, I was done at last. 35 days of motor free travel, "in the bag". It was quite the adventure. Thanks for following along on the blog! I plan on posting about driving a car on October 4th, what that felt like. Until then, ride on, courageous reader, and I'll see you at the bike rack!

MFM Day 34: Take the Weather With You

October 2nd, 2009

Motor Free Month Day 34: Take The Weather With You

Motor Free Month just will not die! It’s a Zombie. “Miles! More Miiiiiles…” it groans. Well I think I know how to lop the head off of this monster and send it underground for good. The Century ride! That’s right, I’ve got a century ride coming up tomorrow. 100 miles on the bike. The “hundie”, “hundee”, “hundy”, or “Hyundai”, as is it’s affectionately known around our house. No matter the spelling, it’s going to be a long ride. This will be my fourth hundy (preference shown), my second this year. There’s something quite alluring about being able to ride 100 miles. Two years ago I made a resolution to do it, as I’d never gone that far before and I thought it would be a good challenge. It ended up being a great challenge, as I decided to go to Estes Park for my first hundy. That took all day!

Tomorrow’s ride is less hilly and more straightforward. We’re riding from Fort Collins to Boulder and back starting at the Noodles & Co. in the Fort, and turning around at the Noodles & Co. in Boulder. It’s called “Noodles 2 Noodles.” I did it on my own last year, in November. Not the recommended time of year for a ride of that distance. This year C_ will join me, and 3 or 4 other friends. And it’s in October, which contains a much higher probability of it being above freezing. Although I suspect the first hour or so will still be quite cold. We’ll just have to ride fast to keep the blood going I suppose.


Why Noodles 2 Noodles? I really have no idea. I have so particular fondness for the place. There’s a Noodles & Co. very close to our house, which must be what started the idea. I think I’m incapable of just going for a ride. It’s got to have some sort of epic or novel quality to it. Eat at two Noodles & Co.’s in the same day! Step right up! Whoo-hooo! Truth be told I doubt we’ll eat Noodles when we return tomorrow afternoon. We might get a beer there though. It’s more for the landmark I guess. And something about that name. Noodles 2 Noodles. Reminds me of “Soul II Soul” from the 80s. People respond to Noodles 2 Noodles. I can’t get anyone to go on a century ride with me. But a Noodles 2 Noodles ride? Sign me up! You’ll see, this will be bigger then E-Rock in a few years.


Brian helped me get my bike all tuned up for the ride. As you may recall it was not riding all that smooth last weekend on my trip to Denver. The rear derailleur was off kilter, and it was making awful squeaking noises. Brian, Super-Bicycle-Repairman, assisted me in adjusting the derailleur and determining the source of the squeaking (those little pulley wheels were to blame). See how he uses a spanner to tighten that nut! Bicycle repairman, how will we ever repay you? So Eric is ready to go. C_’s bike, named Black Beauty or Bête Noire depending on the sort of ride she’s having, is also tuned up and ready for action.


So adventure awaits us, and that as it should be. You may have picked up on how my desire for “adventure” has propelled me towards this Motor Free Month challenge. Like many I spend much of my life working my job, doing the dishes, avoiding doing the dishes, and trying to avoid just going through the motions. But I know people that have done amazing things, had incredible adventures! My (ex)-co-worker Andy, for example, quit his job and sailed from Mexico to New Zealand. Dave recently returned from hiking the Appalachian Trail. Mark’s climbed Himalayan peaks.


Song of the Day: Crowded House, Weather With You (from Woodface )


There’s a tremendous amount of adventure out there to be had, but sometimes I get sucked into the day-to-day and lose sight of the adventure that is right in front of my nose. Hence the Motor Free Month. Was Motor Free Month about the environment? Fitness? Blogging? Certainly those things to some degree. But Adventure comes closest to the mark. And it’s almost a subversive sort of adventure, one I can do right here at home. I may be sitting in my cubicle staring at the computer screen all day, but I’m on a Motor Free Adventure, sitting in my cubicle, staring at the computer screen all day. Somehow that makes all the difference. That’s the same spirit that drove me to add golfing, a trip to Denver, a hike in the mountains, and now Noodles 2 Noodles to the Motor Free Month.


If I was only doing this for the environment, I don’t think I would have approached it with nearly as much zest. Billy Bragg sings, “There is drudgery in social change.” Clearly his revolution was not of the 2-wheeled variety. Thanks goodness for adventure, even, and maybe particularly, adventure on a local scale. I’ll be happy to end Motor Free Month as it has entailed some hardships, but I don’t regret the experience.


On another note, I’ve taken down the song of the day links; my home page hosting site was none too pleased with the songs on my web page and asked me to take them down, which I happily did. It was a bad idea for me to post songs, they were not central to the posts anyway. If you listened to and enjoyed the music, I ask that you consider supporting the fine artists who work hard at creating this music, and purchase their songs and cd’s! I’ll replace the song links with a handy link to amazon.com so you can purchase them yourself; makes a great gift too!

More tomorrow on the 100-mile epic noodles 2 noodles ride!

MFM Day 33: Over and Over

October 1st, 2009

Motor Free, uh, Month, Day 33; Over and Over

Clearly I've been Motor Free for over a month now, making the whole "Motor Free Month" sobriquet a little awkward at this point. But it always was a little incorrect, since I started Motor Free Month before September even started, on August 30th. I suppose I could have stopped at September 28th, giving me 30 days of Motor Free living, but that's not a entire calendar month, so to stop then would have been disingenuous. And I suppose I could have waited until September 1st to start Motor Free Month, but honestly I had no reason to drive either of the two days preceding the start of September, so I figured I'd just get a little head start on the proceedings. So the by the end of September I had 32 days under my wheels. And now I'm into October, and I'm still going; October 1 makes it 33 days and counting.

Feist, I Feel it All, (from The Reminder )


How much longer can I keep this up? Forever!!! Naah, just kidding. This all ends on Sunday, October 4th. I'm driving to Denver to see the Broncos-Cowboys football game. Yes that's the only reason I'm stopping, I suppose! Hummm. Anyone want my tickets? Just kidding, I'm going! Ever since Super Bowl XII I've always sort of hated the Cowboys. I was just a young lad in 1978 when Roger Staubach and Ed "Too Tall" Jones blew out my heroes Tommy Jackson and Craig Morton and the rest of the Broncos in that game, and I'm excited to see them match up again in person. Super Bowl XII is really the first football game I can remember. Mostly I remember being very sad, and also that I drank too much Orange Crush soda and ended up puking in my parent's friend's house sometime in the second half. I'm blaming it on the soda but it could have been due to my agony over the game. Nothing like sealing your life-long allegiance to your team with a devastating loss and neon-orange colored vomit. Yeah, I'm a lifer.

Anyway, Saturday October 3rd will be the final day of Motor Free "Month", and I'm going to go out in style by riding my bicycle from Fort Collins to Boulder and back. Going out in a blaze of glory. This will give me a 35-day month. That's agonizingly close to a full 10% of the year, actually. I guess I'd have to go 36.5 days to hit that milestone. Gives me something to shoot for next time, perhaps.


So really, I suppose I could get into a car now, I've fulfilled my goal. But honestly I've no pressing need to drive anywhere, so why should I do so? And you know, if I didn't have the game to go to on Sunday, I could probably stretch this out another week or two.


But I won't. Honestly, the tyranny of not allowing myself to set foot in motorized transport is a little wearying. It will be nice to know that I can get in a car, accept a ride, drive to the mountains, take an elevator, without feeling guilty about it. I'm genuinely excited about driving to Denver on Sunday. I've not gone faster than about 20 miles per hour since August 29th. I suspect it will feel pretty exhilarating to drive down the interstate at crazy-fast speeds on Sunday. Gets me thinking about our ancestors. I suspect that before the 1800s, the fastest form of transport was the horse. Horses max out at about 45 mph, but obviously can't sustain that rate of speed for long. I suspect a horse and rider probably went about 10-15 mph over distance. I feel like I've been living like my great-great-great-???-great-grandparents the past month, or even an unfrozen caveman. I should start wearing animal skins. But Sunday I re-join the modern world, transportation-wise at least, and I'm pretty excited about it.


So I'll continue to post something for Friday and Saturday, and I'll definitely post something after I drive on Sunday to offer my observations on driving once again. After that, I'll probably fall into a pattern wherein I don't drive much, if at all, during the week, but I will drive on the weekends. That seems like a sustainable lifestyle for me.


This sounds like a goodbye post, which it's not. I plan to keep posting on this blog in the future, certainly not everyday, but once in a while. I've enjoyed writing this and I hope you've enjoyed reading and following along on this adventure. It's been incredible, and it's not quite over yet! In fact I'm about to head out on my bike now; going to ride to a show at the Aggie tonight, Galactic is playing. I heard they're pretty good, I've never heard them before. I think they're playing in Denver or Boulder this weekend, as well. Time to ride!

PS, the show was a lot of fun!

MFM Day 32: Whichever Way the Wind Blows

September 30th, 2009

Motor Free Month Day 32: Whichever Way the Wind Blows

Bob Mould, Whichever Way the Wind Blows

We know that if March comes in like a Lion, it will leave like a Lamb, and vice versa. I postulate that it is also true that September, being March's mirror image, does the same thing. Well not quite exactly the same thing. Since September seems to be in a hurry to get to October, it compresses this proverb into one day. If the final day of September comes in like a lamb, it will leave like a lion. I should have been suspicious when I rode to work on such a fine Fall day that things would turn for the worse.

I work in the middle of a large office building. As such I really can't see what's going on outside with the weather that much. About 2:00 in the afternoon on Wednesday I chanced to look outside and noticed that the trees around our building were being bent violently with the wind, and a little dust storm was raging in the vacant lot just South of our office building. I was just out there for lunch and it was so nice, what happened?

My first instinct was to go to the greatest web site in the world, Weather Underground. The weather map displayed two curious items; we were still enjoying 70-degree temperatures in Fort Collins, but Red Feather Lakes, some 30 miles North-East of us, was down to 35-degrees. Further West, Salt Lake City was down into the 40s. Cold was on it's way! Also the little temperature dots had lots of feathers on them. Indicating a lot of wind. I didn't need a web site to tell me that, but it was frightful to see it so widespread. Yea, Motor Free! Obnoxious, gusting winds are a mortal enemy to cyclists.




Most reasonable people would have just high-tailed it home after work, but I'd made plans to go running with some friends at the West end of town. So I hopped on my bike into the maelstrom of wind and pedaled up to the foothills. It was crazy. I was in the granny-gear for much of the ride, I got a solid workout in even before meeting my friends for the run. The run was just as nuts. We ended up on a trail on pine ridge, trying to keep our feet as the winds pummeled us. I felt like I was getting punched in the shoulders as we tarried forth against the gusts. The end of the run was with the current so that was nice!

Sandro Botticelli, Primevera (detail), c. 1482

By the time we finished it was dark so I had to ride across town without ambient light. The first part of my ride was with the wind at least, but it actually made me pretty nervous. I didn't have to pedal at all, the wind just pushed me along at speeds easily in excess of 20 mph. I was nervous about hitting a downed limb, about running over a pothole, about getting blown sideways into the road, into traffic. Luckily almost no one was out on the streets that time of night. Animals tend to get out of sight when the weather turns nasty, I think people share the same instinct. I even entertained the thought of accepting a ride home myself, but thought that this was exactly the sort of moment I needed to experience during Motor Free Month.

Sandro Botticelli, The Birth of Venus (detail), c. 1482–1486

After turning North towards home I was no longer riding with the wind, so I now had to pedal. The wind was now mostly hitting me from the side, which was much more chaotic! I had chosen to come home via the Mason Trail, which is a nice new bike trail that parallels the famous train tracks that bisect Fort Collins. I was happy to be off the road, and since the trail was wide I could ride down the middle of it and adjust to the nasty cross-wind gusts that were assailing me. I passed a couple of other riders and one runner on the way home, we acknowledged each other with grim subtle nods. This was no time to be out but there we were. Eventually I made it home, thankful that Motor Free Month was almost over, and happy to be home at last. There was a huge downed tree branch from our tree sitting in our neighbor's yard. Just the sort of thing I was worried about hitting my during my ride. Cars are so much better at protecting one from random flying objects!

J. M. W. Turner, The Slave Ship, 1840

After I got home I literally felt dizzy for a while, as if I had been sleeping on a boat or in a hammock and just got on solid ground. My brain took a while to get used to being steady again! Unfortunately it looks like I'll have to deal with this wind for another day or so. Some finish to Motor Free Month! I was hoping to coast these last few days. I guess I still can, provided I only have to travel East.

PS the Lyrics to the Bob Mould song are difficult to make out the way he sings them (that's an understatement!), but they're pretty appropriate for the nerve-rattling ride I had last night:

"If ever you travel that road
You better keep over your side
And keepin' your hands on the wheel
That road be a long road to ride"

-- Bob Mould, Whichever Way the Wind Blows

MFM Day 31: The Thin Man

September 29th, 2009

Motor Free Month Day 31: The Thin Man


Looks like I've hit a month, in a way. 31 days of Motor Free Living at any rate. I'll have to get through tomorrow to make it officially a calendar month, and I intend to keep this carnival rolling through October 3rd so we're not quite done, but today does mark a milestone of sorts nonetheless. I've been asked several times about how many miles I've put on the bike and on foot since I started on August 30th. I actually don't know for sure; between being Motor Free and blogging about being Motor Free, I've not had much spare time to add up the miles.

(Ballad of a Thin Man, Bob Dylan, Stephan Malkmus Version, link removed)


My days seem to fall into three categories; epic days with many miles of Motor Free travel, typical days with less travel, and bad weather days. By a rough count I've had about 6 "epic" days, 23 "typical" days, and 2 "weather" days. As you can imagine the epic days frequently occur on the weekends, typical days during the week. Thank goodness I've not had to combine an epic and a weather day yet. Speaking of, apparently I'm in for a couple more weather days and one more epic day, we shall see. On a typical day I probably put in 15 miles of biking and running combined. Weather days are about the same, they just seem a lot longer. Epic days will range from 20 miles to 100 miles, we'll give them an average of 50 miles.


All added up that's about 675 miles of Motor Free Travel in the past 31 days. Sounds like a lot when I total it up like that. I wonder, how much money did I save on gas? Figuring a car that gets 30 miles per gallon of gas, and a price of $2.50/gallon, I saved a whopping $56.25 in gas over the past month. Not that much money, really. Although I suppose if gas shot up to $5.00/gallon or something, Id' be saving, what, all of $110 per month. You know, still not impressive! So there must be another reason why I'm doing this.


Looking back on my original post, here's what I said:
"I conceived of this as a social experiment, as a way to get into shape, as a way to raise awareness of bicycle travel, as a way to understand the importance of motorized transport in our society, and just 'cause I'm a little off my rocker. Ironically I expect to obtain a greater appreciation for motorized transport as a result of this experiment."

So not to "save money", so that's good. I should have added "a way to force me to write a lot in my blog" as that has been one of the major side-effects. Other than that, how have I done?

• Social experiment: I do feel a bit like a rat in a cage on a wheel, but I think I figured I'd be the one doing the experimenting, not the one being experimented upon.



• Get Into Shape: I feel like I have improved my fitness. I just did weigh myself and I'm down about 7 pounds since the last time I weighed myself, which was a couple of weeks before Motor Free Month. I also set a personal best time at the Half Marathon I ran a couple of weeks ago. I can easily recommend going Motor Free as an effective exercise program!



• Raise awareness of bicycle travel: Hence the reason for this blog. Time-consuming as it is, I've enjoyed writing it, and I hope you all have enjoyed reading it, and maybe it's gotten you to leave the car at home and get your bike once or twice this month. I know it has for some of you, I've really enjoyed hearing about your own Motor Free adventures. I don't think the Mayor of Fort Collins has gone Motor Free, but we'll keep working on him.



• Understand the importance of motorized transport in our society: I think I get it now! Cars are quite useful at times. Giving us freedom of mobility, protecting travellers from bad weather, hauling heavy or bulky items, impressing people, just straight up rollin. We tend to rely on them too much but I can't discount them completely.



• Little off my rocker: Well I admit to being a little off my rocker in order to keep you all from thinking that I am actually completely insane. I think it worked.



• Greater appreciation for motorized transport: I think that's true. I look forward to hitting the open road in the car for far-off places. When all is said and done, I'll probably try to go Motor Free during the week, but use the car on the weekends. And I want a nicer car, too. Hey if I'm going to have to drive, it may as well be in style!

One other thing I've learned that I didn't know when I started: I live in a unique environment here in Fort Collins that is ideally suited for bike transport. So I've learned to appreciate my little town quite a bit more now than when I started. Love the Fort! Defend the Fort! The town's size, the wide streets, the (mostly) beautiful weather, the progressive attitude towards bikers, they all create an environment that incubates and encourages one and all to ride all over town. And it feeds on itself. The more people doing it, the more people start doing it. How you you think I was inspired to got Motor Free in the first place? It didn't occur in a vacuum. And it seems like everyday I see more people get out of their cars and onto their bikes.



I mean, it's crazy around here with the bikers. Maybe I just notice it more now that I'm a full-time biker, but I see bikes everywhere now. Way more than I saw in Denver, that's for sure.



College kids on bikes, sure, that's normal. That's probably where it all starts. And people out for exercise. But that's not all. I see professionals such as myself, commuting to work. I see mothers and fathers towing their children in Burley trailers. I see people going to the grocery store in their bikes. Older people riding around the senior center parking lot. Hordes of people in old town, clogging up every available bike parking spot. The city has even started putting bike racks in parking spaces just to the cyclists will have a place to park.



What I'm doing is not that strange in this town. I'm certain there are others around here who are living a motor free month by choice (they're just not blogging obsessively about it). Heck there are some who are making an entire year of it. What I'm doing is not even really noteworthy in this town. And that's fantastic. It's like everyone around here just woke up and decided, "hey, you know, it's time to ride!" I've been nurtured, inspired, and encouraged by my environment to go Motor Free. I don't know if I would have done so living somewhere else, somewhere less Motor-Free Friendly. Like the Southern half of Fort Collins, for example, ha ha ha.

MFM Day 30: Nightclub Jitters

September 28th, 2009

Motor Free Month Day 30, Nightclub Jitters

The Replacements, Nightclub Jitters

Well it's back to normal, what constitutes normal for Motor Free Month I suppose. A typical weekday: Bike to work, back home for lunch, back to work, then a work out, and then maybe out for a beer at our favorite local watering hole, the Trail Head. T-Head is a divy sort of place, with cheap food and beer, and it suits me. It seems to suit me more when I'm Motor Free. It may be the jumbled mass of bikes out front, secured to every inch of railing and street post; everyone seems to ride their bikes here. Why, they're just like me! Also the dress code is super-college-casual. No one is dressed to impressed in this dump. And riding my bike everywhere, I'm really not going for a fashion statement. I've frequently got on my hat and gloves, my windbreaker and my little reflective pant leg protector. Oh yeah, looking good.

We did ride our bikes to the steak house for C_'s birthday earlier in the month, and we did dress up for the occasion, but it didn't seem quite as natural as Trail Head attire. The point of all this is that being motor free kind of does pigeon-hole one into a certain style of nightlife.

Let's survey Motor Free compatibility using fine works of art to represent different types of nightlife options:

Here we see the fancy bar. Like a Martini bar, I suppose. Far too fancy for the Motor Free Set. Whatever would we wear?

Édouard Manet, Un bar aux Folies Bergère, 1882

Now the late-night diner. Denny's or Perkins I suppose, though this place looks much cooler. I think one could barely pull off Motor Free at this particular diner, but there's be no problem hanging Motor Free at Denny's or some coffee shop.

Edward Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942

Aaaah, the Moulin Rouge. Or a modern dance club equivalent. Motor Free Folk have the right spirit, but entirely the wrong dress. I'd like to say yes but alas I don't think we'd fit in.

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, At the Moulin Rouge, 1895

What about a punk Rock show at the Aggie? "Come as you are," you know? I think Motor Free Freaks will fit in just fin here. Motor Free Month approved.

Jackson Pollock, Number 8, 1948

Looking for more information on Jackson Pollock?  Look no further than Here!


The seedy pool hall. This is probably the closest representation of the Trail Head here. I think Motor Free Folk would fit in nicely here. This is probably our best bet.

Vincent van Gogh, The Night Café, 1888

Observe now the boat cruise ("I'm on a boat, y'all!"). It has a nice outdoor feel which suits Motor Free, but ultimately I'm skeptical that we'd fit in with this crowd.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Luncheon of the Boating Party, 1881

Even before going Motor Free I preferred the Trail Head to the Dance club or the Martini bar. So it could be argued that my natural preference for a place that welcomes the Motor Free set indicates a predisposition for going Motor Free. You high-class martini-lovers are at a disadvantage!

Slush, Stay thirsty my friends, 2009

MFM Day 29: Take the Long Way Round

September 27th, 2009

Motor Free Month Day 29: Take the Long Way Round


Song of the Day: Teenage Fanclub, Take The Long Way Round


You know, it's funny; in those "epic journey" movies, like Lord of the Rings for example, it seems like 90% of the movie, if not more, is concerned with the journey out and the big event at the turnaround point. You know, like with the ring and the river of lava and all that. But scant time is typically spent on the journey back home. I wonder why that is? A few reasons, probably. One, having made the trip to the turn around point, you've proved that you can probably make it back, that you have the requisite strength and stamina to make it back home. Therefore some of the suspense is missing from the return. Additionally, there is much emphasis placed on the event, whatever it may be, that occurs at the turn around point. Might be attaining the summit of a mountain. Might be casting a ring into the fiery chasm from whence it came. There is some assumption in either case that the "turnaround event" is more important than the journey to get there and back. In that case, the journey to the event is only important because it is the thing keeping the event from happening. And the return, well, it really isn't worth mentioning much at all after the event has been concluded.


But surely exciting events can and do happen on the return journey, and truth be told, the trip, the mission is not a success until home is attained once again. Any soldier will tell you that. In fact, any mountain climber will tell you that the return is frequently more dangerous than the trip out. This is particularly true of mountain climbing, but I think any return journey could be fraught with peril and excitement.


As I got up Sunday morning and rode my bike through the now-quiet downtown Denver towards Mona's for breakfast, certainly I felt confident that I could make it back home, but I also knew that it was going to be a long day, a hot and sunny day even, and that my bike was still not working all that well, and I was probably a little more fatigued from Friday's ride than I wanted to admit. At this point I made several prescient decisions that helped to maximize my enjoyment of Sunday's ride. First of all, I resolved to get on the road early, but take my time. I had all day, and what would I rather do besides go out for a nice ride? Also I resolved to eat a great big breakfast at Mona's, which was highly recommended to me by Lou, and half the staff at REI. Lastly, I decided to avoid Lowell Boulevard, although I know she would be sad, and stick to the bike paths out of Denver, even if it meant a longer ride. All of these decisions helped to make my return journey a success. But that's not to say it was entirely peril free; and thank goodness, for what would I write about otherwise? To steal from Tolstoy: All happy bike rides are alike; every unhappy bike ride is unhappy in its own way. And therefore more interesting.


Mona's, I can tell you, is a delightful breakfast spot just there by the REI store. Do go there, but go early, apparently it gets crowded. But at 7:45 am on a Sunday I was literally the only customer in the place! I loaded up on pancakes and coffee, paid my bill, and by 8:15 I was on the Platte River trail. The day before when I was in REI stocking up on spare tubes and chain lube, I poured over a Map in the store that detailed all of the bike-friendly streets and designated bike paths in the metro area (Lowell was not highlighted on the map, for future reference). My friends Greg and Mark had both recommended the Platte River Valley trail as a good downtown ingress route. I followed the trail out of downtown with my finger, all the way to Commerce City before the Clear Creek trail joined it for a Westerly route that I wanted to take. This was certainly several miles out of my way and I debated; take the trail which is longer, or try Lowell again? Traffic certainly wouldn't be as bad on a Sunday morning, so Lowell might be quite a bit more pleasant.


But those hills, those blasted hills! And what about adventure! I already knew that Lowell was no fun, how about trying something new? The trails then, it was decided. I would take Platte to Clear Creek to Dry Creek Trail. This route would deposit me on Wadsworth and 80th st. From there I could make my way to 95th st in Boulder county, which becomes Hover in Longmont. From Longmont I had a couple of choices. This was the plan, and incredibly enough, I stuck with it. But it wasn't easy to stick with the plan, as we shall soon discover. In fact, here is another interactive map of my return journey. I had to guess at some of the bike trail stuff in Denver but it's pretty accurate.

And the bike trail was just great. Not crowded like the Cherry Creek trail. I guess the Platte River trail is not a place to see or be seen. Or it could be that Denver is just not an early-to-rise kind of town. Whatever the reason, I basically had the trail to myself. I had visions of riding through a vagrant-infested post-apocalyptic industrial wasteland, but even the Platte river trail was fairly bucolic and scenic. Amazing what a few trees will do for you, I suppose. I only saw one bum, face down on a picnic table asleep. Where are the scary parts of town now? Aurora? Perhaps. I never made it out that far this trip.

The trail kept tacking North and East, following the river, passing under the freeways; I-70, I-225, I-76. I was starting to get a little nervous like I had missed my turn to the left onto the Clear Creek Trail. I had visions of riding this bad boy all the way out to Greeley. Something about that didn't appeal to me. Probably the Greeley part. Or maybe the Brighton part before the Greeley part. But as it turned out it was pretty obvious where the Clear Creek trail turn was, so I was spared the twin delights of Greeley and Brighton this day.

I continued up the Clear Creek trail, passing now under I-25, Broadway, Pecos, and Federal. I knew that somewhere around here I was supposed to get on yet another bike path, but frankly I didn't study the map all that carefully. Those of you who know me know this is shockingly out of character from my normal behavior. And I paid for my lapse in vigilance! Somewhere after Federal and before Lowell my trail turned abruptly into a dirt road. Not dirt again! I Stopped the bike. Lost so soon, not even out of Denver! I debated on turning around. Maybe I just missed the turnoff. This looked more like a driveway than a bike path. A driveway into some backwoods and distinctly non-bike friendly abode, replete with large unleashed dogs and hicks with shotguns.

But I did see some bike tracks in the dirt. And I really hate backtracking! So I went for it. Down the dirt road. Wasn't long before I popped out right onto my old friend Lowell Boulevard! Well I had somehow missed the path but at least I wasn't lost. I could take Lowell I guess. Maybe it was meant to be. but wait, out of the corner of my eye I spied a bike path, heading under Lowell towards parts North-West. My path! I guess I wasn't lost at all. Fancy that. Funny how your mind can play tricks on you sometimes. I got on my new path which I assumed was correct, and continued on my merry way. This path turned into some sort of strange but cool storm drainage aqueduct with a bike path next to the creek drainage. Must be safe during heavy rains, huh. Luckily the sky was clear. I saw a mangled old bike in the creek. I wondered how long that bike had been there?

Super bonus Song: The Smiths, Is It Really So Strange?

Before too long the path ended and I found myself on Wadsworth, heading North. I had wanted to avoid Wadsworth due to traffic concerns, but between the wide breakdown lane and light Sunday morning traffic it really wasn't too bad. Just before Wadsworth crossed the Boulder-Denver Turnpike I turned West, into the Interlocken business park, into Boulder county. I knew I was in Boulder county because instantly I saw other cyclists! Interlocken. Named after the giant lakes that dominate the landscape here. Wait, no, that's not it. Named, uh, well named to sound vaguely pretentious and wealthy. And featuring my old office, Level 3 Communications! I took a slight detour to go see my old office building. For 5 years I worked at Level 3 and lived in Fort Collins. For 5 years I drove my car 55 miles each way to work. It took about 1 hour each way. I marveled at the sheer impossibility of commuting to Level 3 via bicycle. I mean, I was still 55 miles from home at this point! What would that take, 3, 4 hours to get home, assuming no stops? I felt fortunate to have a job so close to my home now. In fact that was one of the reasons I left Level 3. Just got tired of the commute. And it wasn't good for my fitness either, spending 2+ hours/day in the car. And yet it was fun to see the old building. They sure picked a scenic spot for it, that's for sure.

Employment reverie concluded, it was time to get on 95th street and make the big Northward bee-line to Longmont. I crossed over the Boulder-Denver turnpike just at the Flatirons Crossing mall and the giant StorageTek plant. Or what used to be the StorageTek plant. Uh, can anybody tell me what happened to the StroageTek plant? I mean, unless I was looking in the wrong spot, that place was gone. Did I miss something important here? There used to be a huge hi-tech company right here, with a giant engineering and manufacturing plant. And all I could see was three empty flagpoles and piles of dirt. Seriously; if anyone know what happened to StroageTek, please do tell. I know they got bought by Sun, did Sun move them all to their little dojo palace in Interlocken?

Anyway that was odd. But not the new little 95th street by-pass in Louisville. That was cool! I wonder why they didn't put that little by-pass in a long time ago. Guess they had to pay to put a bridge over the railroad cut to make it happen, probably was expensive to do that.

And speaking of bridges, apparently the 95th street bridge over Boulder creek was being replaced. This I did not know until I was stopped by more detour signs at the intersection of 95th and Valmont. Not again! This happened to me on the way down! Well, I thought, it is Sunday. they won't be actually doing any construction today. I could see a bunch of construction equipment a half mile down the road. I was pretty sure that it would be a 4-mile detour if I took Valmont over to Gunbarrel. I thought I saw some movement on the other side of the construction equipment. Construction workers? On a Sunday? Damn my luck. No wait, it was a cyclist in a yellow jersey. Two cyclists, actually. Hiking their bikes towards me from the other side of the bridge. So it is possible to get across!

I rode my bike down to where the pavement ended and hiked it up to the edge of the bridge. I noticed that the other bikers had turned around. I soon learned the reason why. I was able to easily gain access to the south side of the old bridge, and the bridge was still structurally sound so I was able to cross the creek with no problem. But on the other side, the bridge ended rather abruptly and I was faced with a 6-foot vertical drop to the ground! There was a ladder but someone had kicked it down, so that was no use. I don't really know how I would hike my bike down a ladder anyway, even if it was available. Well this is just peachy, I thought.

There was one possible way down. On the corners of the bridge there extended two concrete abutments. These were about 10 inches wide, and descended at a 45-degree angle from the surface of the bridge to the ground. If I could carry my bike on my shoulder and walk down the top edge of the abutment, I could make it down and continue on my merry way. It was obviously quite dangerous and stupid, but I was too stubborn to turn back now. It was meant to be, I thought. I was turned around on Friday. I will not be turned around today! And besides, I could see 95th street as it stretched to the horizon on the other side. No cars anywhere! It looked glorious!

I hoisted the bike over my left shoulder, and took one tentative step down the abutment, hoping my bike shoe had enough traction to hold to the concrete (I do have bike shoes with some semblance of a sole, by the way). It seemed to hold. I lifted my other foot off the bridge surface and took a second step down the abutment. I held my ground. Slowly, another step, a small step. Then another. I was getting close to the ground! I took a couple of larger steps as I got closer to the ground, and miraculously made it down without a scratch. Adventure!!!

I hiked my bike past the construction equipment and dirt on the other side to where the pavement began again. I had to take a break after that. Wow, that was stupid. But awesome. I wondered if I would have been able to make it from the other side, if I would have had to climb up that thing? I can see why those other cyclists turned around. After a bit another cyclist came up behind me from the same direction. "That was interesting," he said, as he clipped in and rode off. My thoughts, exactly.

The rest of the ride home wasn't nearly as eventful, thankfully. See, here I go. Spend 90% of the blog getting to the big event, and then 10% on "The return". Or I guess "The return of the return." It is the expected form for story-telling. Who am I to dispute? I can try to spice things up a bit, I suppose.

I visited my mom in Longmont and watched some football and ate lunch, and then I made a stop at Schmidt's German Bakery and restaurant in Loveland on the way home, to enjoy a cold refreshing beer and a free miniature bratwurst. Clearly I was in no hurry! Schmidt's was great. The beer was cold, the polka band was rockin', and the staff was doing the chicken dance. How's that for action? Then as I left Schmidt's I noticed that my front tire was flat again! Oh bother. I must have had another slow leak. It did last me about 60 miles I guess, so I figured it would take another 15 if I just pumped it back up. This I now did, sitting next to a statue of a guy sculpting a statue of an Indian chief. Then it was back on the road and a final push for home. I got home at about 3:30 I think, in time to see the second half of the Broncos game. 75 miles all-told. A fantastic journey home. It was satisfying to think that I could ride down to Denver and back on bike. Was it difficult? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes, particularly with the correct route now mapped out.