She's only five years younger than my 26-year-old daughter, but with the new fenders, she looks pretty good. I took her out tonight for the first time in a year, and all I could hear was the tires against the street. It's so cool how she still rides. I'm planning on using her for commuting, of course, but because of the low gear ratio and the larger tires, I'm thinking I'll use it during inclement times. 
The full set up.
Close-up of the rear set up.
Today I spent at least two hours putting fenders on a very nice, older lady: My 1980's cro-moly Schwinn High Sierra - my very first hybrid love. Back then, they were called "mountain bikes." I had her tuned up last week at my LBS, and gave her nice bath today too. She was very happy!
She will commute with me next week, I think, if I'm wiling to risk the older tires. But just riding around the block reminded me of how much I love that bike. Nothing fancy, and it's an "entry level" antique, but to me, she is number one. Pics soon.
Did I miss a sacrificial ceremony somewhere? Did I accidentally throw away an old inter-tube instead of recycling it? Have I forgotten to thank my bike for its service to it's humble owner?
I can not figure out how I angered the Bike Gods.
Here's what happened: I wanted to ride with the local bicycle club on their usual Sunday evening jaunt around town. Twenty miles, little traffic. Simple enough.
I'm rushing to get myself together to drive to the launching site. Yes, I would have preferred to ride my bike there, but it is 13 miles away, which would have been a total of almost 50 miles riding with the ride itself. Not up to that distance yet.
In summary, these all really happened, really: (1) I ripped a large hole in my biking shorts as I was pulling them up; (2) I ripped a small spot in my shirt as I was twisting it around my head, to get it on the right way; (2) it took me 30 minutes to get my bike ready because I kept forgetting stuff in the house, after I locked the door. Stuff like my helmet. My light. My water bottle. Then my eye shades.
I arrive at the location after (3) hitting every single possible red light; (4) I'm driving up about 100 yards away -- the group is heading out; I'm 5 min. too late; I decide to ride around the lakes, not waste the trip; (5) my computer magnet falls off; the threads have mysteriously stripped themselves, I can't use it; (6) I think, I'll check my cadence - cool, I never do that; the cadence magnet falls off, it's little plastic holder breaks into 15 minute little pieces when I laughingly try to fix it.
I have a decent ride -- yes -- head back home, and notice I have grease all over my (white) riding shirt.
Maybe the Bike Gods are just irritated about something. When they really get mad, I hear that most horrid of all sounds: wiiiisssshhhh. Another flat.
NOT A TOTAL WASTE OF WEEKEND.
I was able to fit some old fenders onto my bike, since it's been raining every day for 4 years now. Here are some pictures of my bike's new duds.
In my rides around my town this weekend - two rides, 30 miles in-town each - I again faced the supreme decision when riding in traffic: do I boldly "take the lane" and ride inside of the car lane, or do I meekly scoot over to ride as close to the right edge as possible, or as "reasonably safe," as the law states.
Reading many helpful blogs and a few book chapters, the consensus among safety experts is without a doubt: take the lane.
But that takes a fair amount of guts, honestly. As least for me. I can see cars way off in the distance in my mirror, and seconds later they are on me. Will they see me? Will I be flattened into the road? Will a road bump be named after me in that spot?
So, I tried both ways this weekend, since I took some out-of-my-normal-route side trips, some down some fairly busy streets.
I immediately realized the truth: riding close to the right side was terrifying.
Taking the lane: nerve racking at first, then...okay. Even wise. Even "reasonably safe."
Inevitably when I was close to the right shoulder, which really doesn't exist in 95% of my town, in four lanes of traffic, cars two-abroad would go flying past me, sometimes within mere inches.
I've driven on those roads. People speed as if on the interstate.
The same thing happened when I was trying to be "nice," riding toward the right shoulder on two-lane streets.
When approached by a car from behind and in front, the car behind almost always (1) never slowed down, (2) moved over maybe an inch, and (3) scarred the you-know-what out of me. Over and over.
Decision made: take the lane, like the experts said. Duh.
Here's a wonderful video of how it's done, courtesy of the outstanding website communteorlando.com. Every city needs a website like this! http://vimeo.com/9827254
Keri Caffrey, the website manager, states,
"The epiphany which transforms us into confident cyclists is grasping the simple (albeit counter-intuitive) fact that we have control of our environment. That control comes from predictability, communication and (believe it or not) self-image."
Well said, and that you Keri.
It looks as if TS Eliot Alex will stir up just enough mess to make the rain chances stay high in my area of south Louisiana. In fact, flood warnings have popped up all over the place.
It's always a decision for me about whether to chance the weather. My basic rule of thumb is that I am not able to bike to work in the rain, since my office has no place to re-shower and dry off.
But what if the skies look clear in the morning and rain only threatens the afternoon? I am not a total rain wimp, and have ridden many times in many downpours. And, after all, the temps are in the 80s. So I'm leaning toward the wet/rain/ride side of the fence.
As I recently told a colleague, if I waited until there was little chance of rain, in my area, I would ride maybe 25 days a year.
If it happens, I'll bring along my camera and post some wet and wild bicycle pics!
About two months ago my company management informed us that they had been scouting around for a new building -- for numerous reasons -- and the perfect choice had become available. They made the purchase, informed our current landlords and, yes, they said, we will soon relocate.
The bike commuter part of my brain immediately felt disappointed. The current route is almost a straight shot on a bike lane. I only have to navigate a couple of extremely busy intersections and congested streets for the 7 mile, one way trip. Now it's changed.
The new building has no such direct connection. In fact, it stands right off one of the busiest, 4-lane Federal Highways in our state. That would be the infamous Airline Highway, for decades the only way to New Orleans from Baton Rouge before the interstate days and, of course, now in the history books as the location that found the Rev. Jimmy Swaggart doing his not-so-Christian-like acts at the Travel Inn back in the day.
After a bit of Google mapping, though, persistence to Ride and Tell prevailed and, sure enough, I found a way to the new building that allows me to ride outside most of the terrifying traffic of my city. Terrifying as in: driving 60+ MPH to get to the next stoplight on narrow city streets.
So I hit the road this weekend to try out the route in vitro. Below is my pictorial documentary of what I now call The B Route, for reasons that soon will be obvious.
Not a bad commute at all, and in fact is more shady that my current one.
It will be a few weeks before I am encounced permantly in the new building, but when it happens, my bikes will feel more comfortable knowing that the route has been mapped, traveled and deemed suitable for Bike Like Me.
Much of the route still has a bicycle path, so I'm still very fortunate, more fortunate than 99% of all bicycle commuters I suspect. The path is on the other side of these cars.
The worse intersection on the new route is this one. This shows a very, very slow Saturday. At rush hours, cars will be sceaming down this highway to be the first at each light.
Onto the neighbor side streets. Frequently you will see an interesting Southern Louisiana Catholic tradition: a statue of the Virgin Mother or some other saint, or both, promonently displayed - for divine protection - in the front yard of the home.
Now to the B-Part of the Ride.
The primary subdivision I will ride through is a twisting and turning little number that must have been built by someone named "Bell." Get a lode of the "B" streets that were all over the place.
Back in the saddle again, taking the 7ish mile, one way, to work and back home again on my beloved commuter bikes. I'm starting off using my blue Trek 7.3 FX, which is an absolute joy to ride. Of my steed, she is one of the top ones. I've also been riding my 2008 Raleigh SuperSport -- not the carbon model, but the entry-level racer coverted to a commuter.
I love that bike too, but being a racer, she is just not as smooth as the 7.3 -- but I do go a bit faster.
So here are some pics from my ride home, in the late evening. It was preceded with a typical South Louisiana downpour that was loud, heavy and wet and lasted about 10 minutes.
At this point, in the late afternoon, people were asking if I needed a ride home. In just an hour, despite this deluge and the zillions of lightening bolts, it was sunshining and I was on my bike.
For most of the route, there is a designated bike path. Nice, but I have procured three flats in just a few months of riding the path. Better than no path, though.
On other parts if the ride home, it's a ride through quite neighborhood side streets.
Baton Rouge is full of magnificant, sprawling trees. This giant lives outside a school near the bike path.
Part of the Lush Life that inhibits Baton Rouge. This is part of the drive-through neighborhood I use, far from the exhaust-coughing cars.
However, some of the bike path is along very heavily traveled streets, and of course, people can't resist the temptation to use the path for a convenient parking space. Fortunately this does not happen often.
This summer, several of my most-traveled streets are being resurfaced.
Of course, it can't all be scenic. This leads to an older industrial corridor of the city.
Back in the day, this was the booming part of the town. All of these drivers are headed out of town, to the 'burbs. This little side street offers relatively traffic-free biking for 4 miles or so.
Part of the fun of commuting this part of the year is getting to enjoy the sunsets.
A look-back at the final long stretch. This is not during the peak hour of traffic, but this side street rarely is congested.
The final turn into an adjacent subdivision, north of mine.
Finally, my own little neighborhood. It's a breeze from now on, about two mintues away.
And once home, the panniers are unpacked, clothes are put up to dry out, clothes for the next day are assembled, and the bike is put away. It'll get cleaned/oiled this weekend, both of them actually. This is the rain-free ride. At least a few times before this Fall, it will be inevitable that the ride home will be through a thick shower. But today -- just the setting sun.
