One Thing Leads To Another part I

About a year and a half ago now, we got new neighbors. There was concern that the fence between our yards that has been standing since 1960 was going to fall down at any moment. Being a good neighbor, I offered to re-build it but was met with hesitation. The neighbor was concerned such a project was beyond my reach. He wanted something better than wood. Something waterproof, something that might last a little longer than half a century.  Something I feared would not be mid-century-modern-cool.

I nodded, bid good bye and tended to other responsibilities. Months passed. He asked me again as winter set in last year and I said we’d discuss it in the spring.

About that same time, my buddy Seth wanted to borrow the Thomas bike to put in the window of his high traffic Chiropractic Clinic for the winter. I wasn't surprised then in the spring when he said he was going to buy a Bullitt cargo bike to haul his two boys around. His older son is about the same age as G and the two are thick as thieves. In fact, we often swapped kids on adventure rides when they were 3 and 4. G liked riding on the tail of his Surley Big Dummy, "because it felt like riding on a motorcycle".

 Through the winter we came up with various box design ideas. Finally we decided on building a helicopter cockpit complete with a Gatling gun that shot water. In April I took my rough sketches and Pinterest "Choppers" page to my dad's shop and got busy building what I dubbed the, "Three Headed Monster." When I floated the idea of the squirt gun, the old man off handedly recommend using a windshield wiper motor since Seth was going to have an e-motor to get the boys up their steep hill home.

As spring began to blossom, the neighbor caught me between trips to Mr. Plywood and asked me again about the fence. I told him again I was happy to build it and had some design ideas that would be rad. He again shared concern for my ability to build a fence. I reminded him that I built the shed he could see from behind our geriatric divider. He was not dissuaded from concern. I then made it a personal challenge to find creative ways to park the Thomas in front of his house, leave for rides while he was outside, or stop by to say “hi” when we returned from rides with the Thomas bike. Mostly just to remind him that a fence was not going to be a problem.

 

Building the 3-headed-monster went well. I tried a new tactic of using foam core board from the Dollar store to cut out a rough profile of the cargo box, but in the end, I think it just created more work. Having a beer or two, squinting at the bike, looking at pictures on my phone, then sketching a shape before cutting up a bunch of wood I think works just as well. But the beer costs more than the foam core board.

Work started getting the better of me and the 3 Headed Monster was taking up valuable space in my dad's shop. He took over on the canopy, elevating the craftsmanship from my solid ability of a 6, to his standard 11. Seth's Bullitt arrived and the e-motor was being installed. Time was ticking and spring was quickly becoming summer. Seth, the old man and I got busy on the finish work and cranked out the sanding and paint work.

Portland being Portland, there was some minor public pushback for making a weapon of death and destruction for innocent boys as a play thing. Those comments gave me a better sense of accomplishment than even the guy in his rusty Bronco that yelled, “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever seen!” at us while riding the original boat bike. But the neighbor still wanted a new fence.

A Very Useful Engine

Sunday G and I went to the Fiets of Parenthood event at the Portland Art Museum. We showed up at the first FoP event a few years ago with the boat, but G was still pretty young and as baby's do, he changed our plans and we left pretty early. This year though was much different. He was fully committed to racing the Kid's Obstacle Course event as well as the Family Obstacle Course a few hours later. In between races we even got to step inside the Museum to look at bikes for a few minutes, make a Pinwheel, have some Salt & Straw Ice Cream and pedal on the generator bike that mixed $5 fruit smoothies. 

The side note to this post is that we recently got a GoPro camera. So until I learn to edit videos I will fill these posts with choppy raw footage. I was experimenting with camera locations and didn't realize until later that I can download an App to my phone that will let me see the POV of the camera. For G, I mounted the camera on his handlebars. On Thomas, I had 3 locations, on the side, on the roof and on the handlebars. I think the sideview gives the best perspective but unfortunately I only used it on the trip to the start of the event. 

Anyhow, we rode over to the eastside roll-out of cargo bikes heading across the river to the Art Museum. I enjoyed seeing all the different bike configurations and meeting families. G was a little embarrassed by the attention of rolling up on a group of 35 families in Thomas so he played that he was napping while a bunch of little kids checked our bike out.  He warmed up though and by the time we were eating sandwiches under the shade of the Park Blocks, he was explaining to passers by how we made it, how we ride it and the sounds he makes when we go down hills. For the latter, he would lean back, shake his head and arms and scream, "Whoooaaaahhh!". People who didn't have kids were kinda freaked out by this and looked at me with concern.

G got signed up to go last in the kid race. I was a little worried that he wouldn't have the patience to wait out some 30 kids before his turn. He was a champ and spent the whole time warming up on the vacant block behind the start line. The positive in his mind was that even though he went well after all the other kids in the 5 and under age group, he was able to pull down the hanging ring obstacle and ride over the jump that were only added for the 6 and older kids. Despite his hour long warm up, he managed to finish 4th even with the added challenges. 

 

He didn't do so well around the cones or over the curb, but he rocked the teeter-totter and the jump. Both of which he did extensive practice on before the race. Now he wants a teeter-totter of his own to ride over!

 

photo courtesy Travis Wittwer



 

 

 

For the Family race, we had to pick up groceries, ride through a tight slalom of cones, pick up a dropped kids toy, roll over the teeter-totter, skewer 3 rings with a Joust, drop them within a marked zone, stall for a pedestrian to cross the street and sprint to the finish.

 

The Newmastrategy was for G to ride Hobo-style off the side of the train to more quickly jump off and pick up our cargo at each stop. I was concerned he wouldn't stay on through the slalom but he was totally sold on the idea and did great. He may have a future hopping trains across the country like one of his Great Grandads did. The other actually worked on the Southern-Pacific Railroad. Of course, this is the part where my camera location choice was poor. Fortunately I've been able to get enough still shots to go along with the video to show how it really went down.

 

photo courtesy Ethan Jewett

photo courtesy Kristi Marleau

 

photo courtesy Ethan Jewett

 

photo courtesy Kristi Marleau

photo courtesy Ethan Jewett

 

photo courtesy Travis Wittwer

 

photo courtesy Ethan Jewett

 

 

 

We ended up 6th in the Family race based on time, penalty time additions for missing stops (we did not miss any which is an improvement over our last cargo bike race!) and time subtractions for extra kids being hauled. Though G's excitement of the race experience and focus on his part of the team effort felt like a win to me.

 

 

 

He was a champ as I strapped his bike back onto the side of Thomas and promised him a hard earned soak in the fountain on the way home.

 

 

 

Per usual on our day long outings, G crashed out hard on the ride home, leaving me to fantasize about a big meal and a cold beer while focusing on pedaling smooth circles to not rock him awake as we climb up Harrison and Lincoln and over Mt. Tabor toward home. 

 

 

 

The things that go through my mind on every trip home while G sleeps is rating myself on how close to bonking I am, adding up the total amount of weight I'm pushing up the hill, and calculating how the output on a 100 lbs of bike for 30 or 40 miles equates to a 16 lbs bike for 100 miles. Never had I considered that these rides have a shelf life. The thought kept getting louder in my head that this was likely the last big ride in Thomas. G is getting bigger and only likes to ride in the cargo bike if he can bring his own bike along to ride at some point, or to ride the tag-along bike. He's learned the freedom the bike brings as well as the camaraderie of enjoying that freedom with others. As much as I look forward to new family rides, I'm really going to miss the boat and Thomas. He's been a very useful engine. 



Hook, Line and Sinker

G thirsts  for a single activity. Granted he still practices his "moves" (read: flips, spins and flying kicks) on the couch and needs a daily dose of tire swing. He mostly just wants to ride his bike. So much so that last Sunday he asked for a long ride (20-mile loop) to the river on the tag-along for his first real ride on it, followed by a family ride, each on our own bikes to the DQ 5-miles away. Included in that ride was an hour or so at the park across the street from the DQ. Don't fret that he's becoming one of those one dimensional performer kids. I'd make a lousy Pageant Mom.

After some arm twisting during some pretty awesome recent outdoor riding weather, I conceded and took him back to the Lumberyard where he decided being the only kid on a Skuut bike was no longer cool. Much crashing, tears and firm words to his bike to cooperate, "Stop being cross with me and just obey, bike!"  Led him to managing the Green Line with the grace of any 4-year old on a 12" wheeled Monkey toy.

 

Progress of course is bitter-sweet. With the gains in confidence and the self-motivated move to his 16" wheeled bike, G is more interested in the wondrous independence that the bicycle brings. This is exciting and certainly a happy diversion from trying to teach him to wipe his own butt, yet I was a little sad when I put the Thomas up for the summer and traded it for the boat on the cargo-bike. G will be too big for Thomas come Autumn and soon, the joys of the tag-along will outweigh the rides in the boat that have been about 90% of all my riding the last 4 years. The good news is that now I can officially start dreaming of a tandem. But in all honesty, I've loved riding the Bullitt so I'm sure it will still get plenty of attention.

These days are about over!

 

 



Souplesse

Literally: suppleness, softness, flexibility, adaptability, fluidity. On the bike: smoothness, a one-ness with the machine. Think of a climber dancing away on that steep section that leaves everyone else pushing squares and threatening to rip their handlebars off...

...Souplesse connotes style, but it also hints at a deep-lying efficiency, an elimination of non-essential movement. Much has been made in recent years of incremental improvements, the sorts of time gains made in wind tunnels and in customized nutrition plans. Souplesse has that same incremental value, except that it comes from within the athlete.
-courtesy of Red Kite Prayer


But how do you teach a 4 year old a one-ness with his machine? Hell if I know. What I do know, is what I didn't do, what I did do, and like throwing mud on a wall; what stuck. And of course the positive effects of peer-pressure.  So here is a top 5 list of what it took to get G and his best pal to seek their own Souplesse.

#1 Exposure through saturation. From the first exploratory ride around the block to see if bike riding would 'take' to regular rides on the Bullitt, making adventure part of the routine has been key.

#2 Balance bikes ROCK! Having a 2 or 3 year old start out on a balance bike is like a learners' permit to the freedom of riding. My happiest memories in recent years are of riding to the park G called "Thunderdome" and of cheating winter out of the dull-drums with all day sessions at The Lumberyard.

#3 Don't forget the pedals! From his first quad wheeled Radio Flyer thing until just recently, I didn't bother G with pedals. I should have. He was fast enough on his Skuut Bike and didn't want to slow down to learn how to pedal. Finally, in desperation, and with a broken elbow (Lumberyard while G wasn't looking!) I had Grandpa bolt the training wheel arms to the rollers. Two weeks ago I swiped the Big Wheel from Grandma and Grandpa's backyard to get G's pedals turning on our own sidewalk.

 

 

 

#4 Bribery. The idea came from a friend so I can't claim it, and I felt a little dirty and low-down presenting 'The Deal' of getting Optimus Prime for learning to pedal; -no training wheels, over the course of a 3-day weekend.  It was a useful with clear rules that G fixated on as the driving force to face his biggest life challenge since learning to poop in the toilet.

#5 Peer-Pressure. Along with bribery, the planning via emails, text messages, and discussions while the boys shredded the Lumberyard had me feeling kinda' sleazy like a politician with an agenda, but this agenda is AWESOME so I only felt a little manipulative. On Memorial Day, after two-days of trying, crying and frustration, we got both the boys together and once one of them was ready to try, the other stepped right up too. No joke, 5 minutes later, we had two boys stoked for their first parking lot criterium.

Special Guest Video



A few weeks ago Bill and Nymbol came down for a visit from Langley, WA. Their first request? To do some laps with G at the Lumberyard.

 

 

 I think this is a pretty worthy video for my first video blog post. I'm finally catching up with the 21st Century.

 

Here is a link to Nymbol and the rest of his troupe.

Perpetual Motion

Six weeks straight we've been visiting the Lumberyard. Sometimes twice a week. 3-4 hours at a time. When it was time to leave during our first visit, G ran away from me and hid under a half-pipe. Since then, it's not gotten much easier to leave but his skills have grown expedentially. He's not carelessly brave but he's not timid either. He works it out, watches older kids then dives in.

There's only two places in the re-purposed bowling alley that he has yet to master: A steep descent of a fly-over bridge that he just slides down, and the bigger, more technical, Blue ramps and pipes where kids do flips and aerobatic tricks that require one to be older than 4 and have pedals on their bike. He'll drop in on these ramps, but needs a push to get up the other side. A few more pounds and a chain driven bike not made out of wood and he'll be doing flips off "the wall" before he sleeps through the night with a dry pull-up.

Despite how much fun we are having, what keeps me bringing him back are the 8 or so other 3-5 year olds showing up regularly. The first time I took him on a weeknight without his buddy Max, he wouldn't ride. Taking A to watch was what broke him through to showing up without his best riding buddy. Yet today, he was high-fiving kids of all ages and knew them by name. As another dad said, "What else can you do with your 4-year old where you both work through challenges and build skills?"

                                                   The faster the start...the bigger the air!

                                   A rare look at his focused face. I usually just follow the blur.

                                                                 Rock gardening

                                    Thumbs up before dropping down the steep log descent

                                     Run it up then slide it down and do it again on the next ramp!

Keep it Simple

A friend recently decided that his SRM power meter wasn't helping him gain the performance advantages he sought on his daily commute any longer. So he sold it and we discussed the virtues of knowing what gear one is riding in and being aware of cadence. It's amazing how when the chatter is muted, the fundamentals of training are timeless.

Another friend, who is preparing himself for post-apocalyptic survival, called one recent evening for a pick up as he had flatted 3 times and was out of spare tubes and patches while on his training ride. Part of the discussion on the 10-minute drive home was about thinning down the spare tool bag from multi-tools, 3 tubes, patches and a spare tire to just a tube or two. "Back in the day," we decided, we didn't have cell phones so we had to actually be self reliant.

When I was 17 and 18 I was lucky enough to spend most of my training time with a Pro racer who had prior lived in France and Italy. Rob and I crossed paths on rides a few times before he called me and said to be at his house at 9 sharp the next morning. I showed up early. The interaction wasn't formal, but was succinct. He sat me down at the small kitchen table, across from a Graham Watson calender on the wall, made me my first ever doppio espresso, then left the room to get dressed.

Not previously being a coffee drinker, I drank the espresso without milk and despite it's flavorful strength wondered why it was in such a tiny cup. He walked back into the kitchen dressed for training, sat down to put on his shoes and said simply that we'd always leave at 9 and to be prepared for at least 3 hours, sometimes 7 but almost always 5. When I asked about structure, his response was to ride at least 3 hours, almost always 5 and sometimes 7. Pretty simple.

Last weekend I got out to ride with friends both days for my 2nd and 3rd rides in 6 weeks, my first in 3 weeks. We saw both cars below on the same ride. Given all the years of improvements to handling and performance, paying attention seems to remain fundamental.

I wonder if the Asia cassette is still in the tape deck?

Nice parallel parking job by the Miata.

Man Time

Saturday had all the ingredients for an epic adventure. We planned a ride to OMSI with our riding buddies Max and Seth, came across the Christmas Steam Engine, crossed paths with a biker gang, managed a 3 hour ride on a day that never reached 40 degrees and the hip didn't even give any grief adding to my optimism for the coming winter.

Playing at OMSI was great, but as soon as Seth and I floated the idea of leaving to the boys, their only question was, "Can we see the train again?"

I was hoping we could drag race the locomotive but by the time we came across it, the crew was on lunch break. This worked out for the best as the boys were able to check it out up close as the engine rested, hissing slowly and letting off steam as if the old, cast iron beast was merely taking a nap.

Saying good-bye to the Steam Engine was more difficult that leaving OMSI. But 10-minutes down the road, Gavin was fast asleep in Thomas. We split off from our buddies while G was still lights out. I opted to ride through nap as he wouldn't go back down once woken up. It's been months since I've done a ride more than 2 hours so I was happy to keep rolling as long as I could.

Finally as my legs were turning to mush, we came across the Toys for Tots Motorcycle rally at a busy intersection. The bikers all started revving their Harley's and yelling out how they liked our ride. Of course this woke G up, and asked if we rode to California, thinking he heard Stu on his Road King.

Wabbit or Coyote?

photo courtesy of teamJVA.com

I've heard numerous references to this article recently. The point taken is that we all rise a little with some healthy competition. Setting the bar too high can break one's spirit or even worse harm one's physical health. But reaching 2% seems to be the magic threshold. 3% I guess turns the Rabbit into a Road Runner and nobody wants to be Wile E Coyote.

In the movie, For Love Of The Game, Kevin Costner shuts out distractions by reminding himself to "Clear the mechanism". He then is able to focus solely on the task at hand as a (fictional) MLB starting pitcher.

The last 6-months I've worked through more PT with the hip to allow myself to get back on the bike for more than just easy pleasure rides. However, the motivation comes in irregular flurries.

Putting myself out there to "race" is humbling as I know what I need to do to compete and I also know what I am doing. The two are not intersecting.

A month ago the Newmaforma packed up and went to the first cyclocross race of the season. I rode around a tree with G instead of properly warming up. I had a mechanical and only rode 10-minutes of the 45-minute race due to previously working on my bike while playing with G in the garage and not focusing on tightening the parts correctly. The thing is, he didn't care. He got to ride the kiddie race, ride around a tree for an hour and eat a Nutella waffle.

The next chance to race rolls around and I'm off to it alone. All I need to do is finish to better my record of anonymity. I try to "clear the mechanism" and just ride the course consistently each lap. I want to improve on the technical hiccups and be smooth through the parts I am competent at. I'm alone off the back of the group quickly so focusing on the mechanics is really the only thing I can do. What I can't do is let my mind wander. If I do that I'll end up in the parking lot, quitting.

But competitive people like to have a gauge. Some want to compare themselves to others or to what could have been if this day was 5 years ago, 10 years ago or more. So by averaging my lap splits and that of other categories and being the math genius I am, I figure I would have finished:

@5th in the beginner mens race
@Last, 5-minutes behind the actual last placed rider in the Master A group
@72nd, but not last, in the Master B's
@35th in the Master C's.

What is more scary is that while I would have completely dominated the Junior Girls race, I would have been a mere 5th against the Junior boys.

Ten of the age 35+ women would have beat me. And even though I don't weigh 200 lbs but am still 25 lbs heavy, I would have managed 12th in the Clydesdale stampede. But worst of all, I would have been smoked by two old men in the 60+ race.

So all that just confirms to me that a 2% improvement is far less important than the half of the battle of simply showing up. Chasing anything at this point will only get me to ride myself off a cliff like Wile E. Coyote or as frustrated and empty handed as Elmer Fudd chasing Bugs Bunny.

On Any Sunday (in portland)

I got an email last monday from a friend about a Cargo Bike Criterium at the Mississippi Street Fair. When I had the time to look into the race, registration was full. I emailed a photo of Thomas to the promoter and was promised race details on Wednesday.

In my head I imagined a traditional Crit with Gavin as my co-pilot. The details of the race indicated an abreviated course from the actual race route later in the evening. Then the part about no kids under 18 and that each lap racers' had to pick up "cargo" from a recycled home improvement store on the course. Thomas would not work, I decided. I would need to put the boat back on the Bullitt bike.

To stir the pot, I then found this promo post with racer bio's. No pressure! I decided the boat would not work as it weighs 58 lbs. I needed a new boat.

I called my dad and persuaded him and his crew of two grandsons to take a day off a bathroom remodel and build me a new boat. They worked off the original and were done with construction around dinner time on Friday. At which point the finish work was left to me. I sanded, primer'd and painted on Friday night and Saturday morning. Then bought another shade and re-painted Saturday afternoon as the first coat of "red" came out orange. Sunday, race day, the paint was still tacky but definitely red.








The boat turned out great and only weighs 15 lbs! That's 10 less than Thomas and 40 less than the first boat.

The event, the Cirque du Cycling, is a fantastic neighborhood celebration including far more than just a criterium. There was a street parade, a family bike ride, freak bikes and generally freaky people. Imagine the Santa Cruz Crit as part of the solstice parade at the Garden Mall. Freaky for sure.

A made the banner for Thomas on Sunday morning for the parade while I finished the boat and G found his conductor hat. Then lost it. He then made sure Thomas was polished and parade worthy. We were off to circus right at nap time and to his credit, G was a trooper. He waved and blew his train horn during the parade and decided he would do the race instead of me.





For the race, we were staged in 5 rows of 3. I drew #13 meaning I would start at the back of the pack. It was difficult to tell who was fast and who was not. Much of the competition looked road-wise from being messengers by day and daredevils by night. I may have been the only one without a tattoo.





When the whistle blew I had a big job to fill gaps and move to the front of the group. The pack was more like a group of humping water buffalo than a smooth peloton. I nosed the boat through small gaps between riders and came out of the first U turn on the front to put my head down and drill the pace the 3 blocks to the cargo pick up pit. I was first in to grab a sink, throw it in the boat and race on.



On the 2nd lap a guy in a much larger gear, but on the same model bike ripped past me and I knew I could't match his pace. The Bullitt bike comes stock with a 39x20 gear on a 8-speed internally geared hub. A 39x20 is about a 50-inch gear meaning for every revolution of the pedals the bike goes 50-inches. With the internally geared hub you get variation based on that sized gear. Regardless, I took the 20 tooth cog off last year and put a 23 on giving me a lower 44-inch gear. This is better for climbing as it's less torque on my hip. The guy that blew by me, come to find out, took his standard issue 20 tooth cog off and put an 18 on. An 18 makes a 56-inch gear which ultimately means he can blow by me faster than I can pedal. Which is exactly what happened.



I knew then I wasn't going to win but 2nd was possible. The guy I was racing for 2nd with was styling a full aero kit and grinning ear to ear. He was fast. I couldn't simply ride away from him, but my bike was shorter and could corner tighter. It was also lighter and I could accelerate quicker. None of this mattered however, as for the last cargo pick up, I thought I could grab some dryer vent tubing on a fly-by and put an unclose-able gap on him.



It didn't work and I almost capsized the boat. Ultimately losing more time than had I stopped for less heroic pick up. At this point the 4th place guy was nearly half a lap behind so I rode a less painful pace for the final lap to complete the race in 3rd. Yet in my haste to collect cargo I forgot one of the mandatory pick up items; a automatic door closer hinge. So in the end, I may have been DQ'd. I will never know for sure as official results have never materialized and the legend of the race will surely outlast any factual results.

Gavin was excited to get back in the boat and ride around some more after our race. Though when it was finally time to leave, before the category 3 race, he was not on board. For the first mile or two home, all he wanted was to go back to the race. Then he fell fast asleep for my tired ride home.




photos courtesy of ANewms, bikeportland.org, and sam_churchill.