After a nice summer of not riding to work (not going to work either, ahh, the teacher's life) I am back in the saddle and on the path again. It was good to see some of my mysterious co-commuters out on the path, and we were able to resume our head-nodding, hand waving recognition without any interruption.
This time of year is just perfect on the morning ride. Light, cool and crisp--a great way to clear the head and open the mind for the day ahead. On a bike note, I added some pink streamers to the handlebars this summer so I am rocking a bling-ier version of pink on the paths.
I LOVE the new sections of path I am riding on, but I am eager for them to finish the South Eugene High section of the bike path as I don't like riding on Amazon Parkway much---too many cars.
I'll see you out there on the non-road.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The community
One thing I have been noticing quite a bit recently is the sense of community I feel each day as I ride the same route at the same time. Unlike my experience last year, driving each day to work in another town, the bike path creates a personal connection with people that pass each other each day. I have noticed that most of the people I recognize each day are people either going the opposite direction or people who are walkers--those going the same direction as me stay ahead or behind, so I don't know you...sorry. So, here are some of the members of my community:
Pink Helmet: Where I have pink fenders, he has a pink helmet. Every day he gives a biker wave as we pass. Usually near the fairgrounds, although if I leave early I'll pass him by Bailey Hill
Orange Coat: An older woman with long grey hair. She rides near Pink Helmet. She too gives a biker style wave.
Yoga Man: This man I pass on the Amazon path near Roosevelt Middle School where he sips tea and sits on a bench waiting for the sun to rise...I think
Three Ladies Walking: I pass these three women powerwalking each day near the Tunnel under Amazon parkway by Albertsons. They are chatty and clearly good friends.
Tall guy, short dog: This is a man that is quite tall and skinny and walks a very short dog (Corgi?) that wears a little jacket indicating the dog is a service animal. He always waves to me.
Goatee man and his kid: These guys ride in from near Bailey Hill to Chavez elementary every morning together. Very cool dad/kid bike thing. I can't wait for my daughter and I to ride to her school!
There are more, but those are the ones that stick out in my head right now. I often think about people that commute in big cities like NYC or Chicago having connections to others that have the same commuter schedule, and right here in Eugene I have a similar experience. Although I probably won't ever speak with any of them it is nice to see them each day. Sometimes, if I am late or early I look ahead to see what new people I will encounter.
Ride on.
Jeremy
Pink Helmet: Where I have pink fenders, he has a pink helmet. Every day he gives a biker wave as we pass. Usually near the fairgrounds, although if I leave early I'll pass him by Bailey Hill
Orange Coat: An older woman with long grey hair. She rides near Pink Helmet. She too gives a biker style wave.
Yoga Man: This man I pass on the Amazon path near Roosevelt Middle School where he sips tea and sits on a bench waiting for the sun to rise...I think
Three Ladies Walking: I pass these three women powerwalking each day near the Tunnel under Amazon parkway by Albertsons. They are chatty and clearly good friends.
Tall guy, short dog: This is a man that is quite tall and skinny and walks a very short dog (Corgi?) that wears a little jacket indicating the dog is a service animal. He always waves to me.
Goatee man and his kid: These guys ride in from near Bailey Hill to Chavez elementary every morning together. Very cool dad/kid bike thing. I can't wait for my daughter and I to ride to her school!
There are more, but those are the ones that stick out in my head right now. I often think about people that commute in big cities like NYC or Chicago having connections to others that have the same commuter schedule, and right here in Eugene I have a similar experience. Although I probably won't ever speak with any of them it is nice to see them each day. Sometimes, if I am late or early I look ahead to see what new people I will encounter.
Ride on.
Jeremy
Ten minutes
One of the many advantages to riding my bike to work everyday is avoiding traffic. I spend the vast majority of my ride on bike paths that have no motorized access. This allows me to ride comfortably without worrying about getting the chop from a steel death box. However, the first 2 miles of my ride runs the entire length of East Amazon parkway and there is a substantial difference between riding out at 7:20 and 7:3o.
At 7:20 I nearly have the road to myself. I ride on the right shoulder, and although there is no bike lane, there is room for street parking and hardly any cars parked there. Usually, cars that pass me don't even have to use the other lane to give me a wide berth. At 7:20 I will be passed by 5 or 6 cars in the first section of the ride. If I leave 10 minutes later, my car total will skyrocket. It is as if everyone is due at work at 8 and so at half past everyone is out the door. If I make the mistake of leaving late, I can be certain that mistake will compound itself at nearly every section of my ride and slow me down all the way in.
Traffic problems with a late start: Constant stream of passing cars on East Amazon--Dangerous
Heaps of cars at Hilyard, making the ride across the intersection to the bike path sketchy
Cars turning on 24th NOT stopping for the bikers crossing on the crossing path
South Eugene HS students blocking the end of the bike path, busses blocking the view of oncoming traffic and student drivers turning from every direction to get to school
Stacked up cars on 18th encroaching on the bike lane
At all the places where the Fern Ridge path crosses a street, increased cars, none of whom see bikers or stop for them.
On the days when I can make it out of the house early, I have almost no traffic and rarely need to stop my bike. It is a much more pleasant experience--I can get into the rhythm of the ride and lose myself in the cadence of spinning. I truly love riding my bike to work and I know I am grouchier when I can't/don't ride.
Until next time, keep rolling
Jeremy
At 7:20 I nearly have the road to myself. I ride on the right shoulder, and although there is no bike lane, there is room for street parking and hardly any cars parked there. Usually, cars that pass me don't even have to use the other lane to give me a wide berth. At 7:20 I will be passed by 5 or 6 cars in the first section of the ride. If I leave 10 minutes later, my car total will skyrocket. It is as if everyone is due at work at 8 and so at half past everyone is out the door. If I make the mistake of leaving late, I can be certain that mistake will compound itself at nearly every section of my ride and slow me down all the way in.
Traffic problems with a late start: Constant stream of passing cars on East Amazon--Dangerous
Heaps of cars at Hilyard, making the ride across the intersection to the bike path sketchy
Cars turning on 24th NOT stopping for the bikers crossing on the crossing path
South Eugene HS students blocking the end of the bike path, busses blocking the view of oncoming traffic and student drivers turning from every direction to get to school
Stacked up cars on 18th encroaching on the bike lane
At all the places where the Fern Ridge path crosses a street, increased cars, none of whom see bikers or stop for them.
On the days when I can make it out of the house early, I have almost no traffic and rarely need to stop my bike. It is a much more pleasant experience--I can get into the rhythm of the ride and lose myself in the cadence of spinning. I truly love riding my bike to work and I know I am grouchier when I can't/don't ride.
Until next time, keep rolling
Jeremy
Monday, March 16, 2009
Duck, Duck, Goose
A little bit lighter, a little bit warmer.
This morning was a somewhat typical start. It seems like when I am in my house it sounds/looks like it is raining quite hard, but when I begin riding it is either not raining at all OR it is raining so lightly the wind dries my jacket before the rain can wet it. This morning was that kind of morning. By the time I got to my school, I was not in the least bit wet, although it seems like there was rain falling the whole time. That is Eugene for you. We talk about the rain so much and yet when you really live it, there isn't that much to it.
Anyway, on to the theme, Duck-Duck-Goose. There was a huge amount of water running in the Amazon after the real rain we had over the weekend. The result of all the water was an unusual number of ducks on the path. I happen to love how the ducks stand in the bike path in pairs. I am careful to go around the ducks behind them so they can keep waddling along in the direction their head is pointing. It is not uncommon for me to see a pair or two, but this morning I passed 4 pairs of ducks perched out of the rushing creek on the path.
The other part of the theme is goose. In this case it is more accurate to say geese. As I approached my school I noticed an unusual number of geese circling the fields of Churchill High School. It felt like a great indicator of spring arriving, no offense to the groundhog of 6 weeks ago! On the other hand I spent the entire morning reciting lines from Yeats' "The Second Coming" which although talking about a falcon and a falconer reminded me of the geese circling in an ever tightening gyre. It was a beautiful, engaging, creepy, overwhelming experience to see that many geese (over 2oo) flying in a lose formation, but clearly swirling around in the same direction. I will put the poem below so you can have a little Yeats in your life.
The Second Coming--- W.B. Yeats
TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
This morning was a somewhat typical start. It seems like when I am in my house it sounds/looks like it is raining quite hard, but when I begin riding it is either not raining at all OR it is raining so lightly the wind dries my jacket before the rain can wet it. This morning was that kind of morning. By the time I got to my school, I was not in the least bit wet, although it seems like there was rain falling the whole time. That is Eugene for you. We talk about the rain so much and yet when you really live it, there isn't that much to it.
Anyway, on to the theme, Duck-Duck-Goose. There was a huge amount of water running in the Amazon after the real rain we had over the weekend. The result of all the water was an unusual number of ducks on the path. I happen to love how the ducks stand in the bike path in pairs. I am careful to go around the ducks behind them so they can keep waddling along in the direction their head is pointing. It is not uncommon for me to see a pair or two, but this morning I passed 4 pairs of ducks perched out of the rushing creek on the path.
The other part of the theme is goose. In this case it is more accurate to say geese. As I approached my school I noticed an unusual number of geese circling the fields of Churchill High School. It felt like a great indicator of spring arriving, no offense to the groundhog of 6 weeks ago! On the other hand I spent the entire morning reciting lines from Yeats' "The Second Coming" which although talking about a falcon and a falconer reminded me of the geese circling in an ever tightening gyre. It was a beautiful, engaging, creepy, overwhelming experience to see that many geese (over 2oo) flying in a lose formation, but clearly swirling around in the same direction. I will put the poem below so you can have a little Yeats in your life.
The Second Coming--- W.B. Yeats
TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
When your body is your engine
I have been thinking quite a bit about the odd relationship I have with my own body as a bike commuter. Unlike the majority of people who get to work some other way (bus, carpool, car) in the event that my body is compromised, it affects my travel to work. This is made very clear to me this evening as I ready myself for tomorrow's ride.
On most Sunday afternoons I ready myself for the ride by checking over my bike, oiling the chain, testing the brakes, looking over the gear and wiping away the last week worth of grime. Today, as I was giving my bike the check over I bent down to see the tires and my legs screamed because I had gone running earlier. I am training for the Eugene Marathon (May 3, 09) and today I ran a 1/2 for training. While it felt great at the time, now as I contemplate my getting to work, I think I will need to leave a bit earlier in case my legs are sore or tired. This is unique to people who use their body as their transportation. When I go for a run, or play ultimate or whatever, I have to consider the impact that choice will have on my next morning's ride to work. So, tomorrow I will see how the legs feel. I have set the alarm a bit early just in case. I hope to see you on the path...
jeremy
On most Sunday afternoons I ready myself for the ride by checking over my bike, oiling the chain, testing the brakes, looking over the gear and wiping away the last week worth of grime. Today, as I was giving my bike the check over I bent down to see the tires and my legs screamed because I had gone running earlier. I am training for the Eugene Marathon (May 3, 09) and today I ran a 1/2 for training. While it felt great at the time, now as I contemplate my getting to work, I think I will need to leave a bit earlier in case my legs are sore or tired. This is unique to people who use their body as their transportation. When I go for a run, or play ultimate or whatever, I have to consider the impact that choice will have on my next morning's ride to work. So, tomorrow I will see how the legs feel. I have set the alarm a bit early just in case. I hope to see you on the path...
jeremy
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Sheep in the creek
On my way home yesterday, I saw what has been an odd, albeit not totally unique event. Down on the Amazon creek bed, along the Fern Ridge path in between City View and Oak Patch there are two dark brown sheep that graze the flats. The first time I saw them, maybe 4 or 5 months ago I nearly fell off my bike because they look like small bison. Exactly the color of bison (a deep chocolate with darker tips at the end of the "dread" hair) and roughly the right shape, they are only smaller. I have gotten quite used to seeing nutria, feral cats, ducks, heron/crane birds, and the homeless, but these sheep are always alarming. Yesterday, as I rode home with a brisk tailwind I slowed down to look at them as they munched along the bank.
It reminds me of an essay I read in the New Yorker a few years back. An ornithologist was explaining his fascination with "hunting" for bird sightings in New York City. He mentioned that some birds are quite rare as they migrate through the city on their way to wherever they are going. Explaining why he is so adamant about seeing them as they pass through, he likened it to seeing other rare species in the city. Imagine how many people would turn out if there was a mountain lion walking down Broadway or a bison in times square. Certainly a few sheep eating grass in the creek are not a bison in NYC, but the sheep are worth a slow look. If you find yourself in the area in the afternoon, check em out!!
jeremy
It reminds me of an essay I read in the New Yorker a few years back. An ornithologist was explaining his fascination with "hunting" for bird sightings in New York City. He mentioned that some birds are quite rare as they migrate through the city on their way to wherever they are going. Explaining why he is so adamant about seeing them as they pass through, he likened it to seeing other rare species in the city. Imagine how many people would turn out if there was a mountain lion walking down Broadway or a bison in times square. Certainly a few sheep eating grass in the creek are not a bison in NYC, but the sheep are worth a slow look. If you find yourself in the area in the afternoon, check em out!!
jeremy
Monday, March 9, 2009
DST cold morning
March 9, 2009. First Day of DST. 36F cloudy. Sunrise 7:37
As I thought, it was dark on the ride this morning. One of the greatest aspects of riding to work everyday throughout the year is the intimate relationship I have with the weather. I know, for instance, the difference between the rain that will actually get me wet on the ride and the rain that will dry from the wind as quickly as it hits my jacket. I know the slight temperature differences from day to day and morning to evening. I don't want to linger on the weather, as that seems like such a commonplace complaint, but I would like to document my experience with it.
I knew it was colder this morning because my legs first felt it on the walk up my driveway to the street. This morning I was wearing tights and even in them I felt cold. The first part of my ride is down an amazingly steep hill, and in the mornings, this is the most brutal part of the ride. Like jumping into a chipped out hole in the frozen lake surface in northern Minnesota, the first few minutes of riding in the morning are difficult to handle. I simply tuck down, clip my pedals and wait frigidly until the speedometer slows to 21, the point my pedal strokes will contribute to the ride. Above 21 and I am spinning but not helping.
As I ride down the hill I know it is colder because my forehead begins to ache. Like a teenager with a frozen 7-11 mountain dew drink, I got a whopper of a cold headache this morning. Once I start pedaling, however, things start to go better for me. I begin to generate heat and I can feel my body easing into the rhythm. It is at this point I am ready to pay attention to the world around me. The chill in the air is reflected throughout the ride in various ways. The first is the gentle white coating that covers lawn, rooftop and car window. Frost is one of the earliest signs it will be a particularly cold ride. This morning the tall plants that line the Amazon creek alongside the bark trial on East Amazon were coated in a delicate white frost, like feathers from a downy chick.
If I didn't realize it was a bit colder by now, the steady stream of steam coming out of my mouth will tell all. By the time I get to work, my beard and moustache will be soaking wet and dripping, and my hands will be blocks of ice. I wear one of three pair of gloves each day and today I was working the Smartwool/Leather gloves. Big, warm and comfy, but today the cold won the battle as I had lost most feeling in the fingers by the fairground.
Perhaps the best part of the DST rides is that I am on the Fern Ridge path by the time the sun rises. With the artificially controlled time, I have become more likely to see the sun rise and all its comlimentary sky-shows. This morning the sun had to compete with the clouds and each had clearly won at least once.
What I wore to ride today: Black running tights, white "tech" t-shirt, orange MEC longsleeve running shirt and my REI Randonee jacket. On my feet I wear regular socks and my mountain bike clipless pedal shoes. I wear gloves and a helmet (ALWAYS!!) and my iPod. This morning I wish I had brought a forehead warmer!
Gettin' there with two wheels,
jeremy
As I thought, it was dark on the ride this morning. One of the greatest aspects of riding to work everyday throughout the year is the intimate relationship I have with the weather. I know, for instance, the difference between the rain that will actually get me wet on the ride and the rain that will dry from the wind as quickly as it hits my jacket. I know the slight temperature differences from day to day and morning to evening. I don't want to linger on the weather, as that seems like such a commonplace complaint, but I would like to document my experience with it.
I knew it was colder this morning because my legs first felt it on the walk up my driveway to the street. This morning I was wearing tights and even in them I felt cold. The first part of my ride is down an amazingly steep hill, and in the mornings, this is the most brutal part of the ride. Like jumping into a chipped out hole in the frozen lake surface in northern Minnesota, the first few minutes of riding in the morning are difficult to handle. I simply tuck down, clip my pedals and wait frigidly until the speedometer slows to 21, the point my pedal strokes will contribute to the ride. Above 21 and I am spinning but not helping.
As I ride down the hill I know it is colder because my forehead begins to ache. Like a teenager with a frozen 7-11 mountain dew drink, I got a whopper of a cold headache this morning. Once I start pedaling, however, things start to go better for me. I begin to generate heat and I can feel my body easing into the rhythm. It is at this point I am ready to pay attention to the world around me. The chill in the air is reflected throughout the ride in various ways. The first is the gentle white coating that covers lawn, rooftop and car window. Frost is one of the earliest signs it will be a particularly cold ride. This morning the tall plants that line the Amazon creek alongside the bark trial on East Amazon were coated in a delicate white frost, like feathers from a downy chick.
If I didn't realize it was a bit colder by now, the steady stream of steam coming out of my mouth will tell all. By the time I get to work, my beard and moustache will be soaking wet and dripping, and my hands will be blocks of ice. I wear one of three pair of gloves each day and today I was working the Smartwool/Leather gloves. Big, warm and comfy, but today the cold won the battle as I had lost most feeling in the fingers by the fairground.
Perhaps the best part of the DST rides is that I am on the Fern Ridge path by the time the sun rises. With the artificially controlled time, I have become more likely to see the sun rise and all its comlimentary sky-shows. This morning the sun had to compete with the clouds and each had clearly won at least once.
What I wore to ride today: Black running tights, white "tech" t-shirt, orange MEC longsleeve running shirt and my REI Randonee jacket. On my feet I wear regular socks and my mountain bike clipless pedal shoes. I wear gloves and a helmet (ALWAYS!!) and my iPod. This morning I wish I had brought a forehead warmer!
Gettin' there with two wheels,
jeremy
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