This Was The Commute That Was, Part IVb

Is it possible? Can a bike be ridden from the far western reaches of Louisville Metro to the city center . . . without getting on Dixie??

According to the city bike dept (yes, we do have one) my best option is to ride to the Louisville Loop near Farnsley-Moreman, take the bike path down to Chickasaw Park, and then head east to home. I did this ride a few times. It is very lovely and after TWO HOURS I was finally home. Once I was stuck for 45 MINUTES when a train stopped. Could there be a better, shorter, way?

I tried riding the sidewalk along Dixie and nearly passed out from the exhaust, and from fear.

I tried riding Dixie's Wide Wide Shoulder to St. Andrews Church Rd and heading home that way. St. Andy has no shoulder, lots of traffic, and a corresponding high level of fear. Uh-uh.

Finally I had a revelation: is this a road? why not ride down this little road? what's at the end of that road? WHOA . . . IT WORKS!!

Here, then, is the secret of the Golden Route Home, the Mostest, Epic-est, Bestest Bike Commute Ever.

First, I leave the workplace with a smile on my face and my helmet firmly planted on my head (hint for newbies - don't push the helmet back off your forehead; you risk forehead injury and serious dorkitude). I sleekly glide through the surrounding neighborhood, heading for Genius Insight #1, Pages Lane.

This may not look like a good choice, but don't be fooled. I've pulled over into a driveway to let these kind people and their death-machines pass me by.

See how much room they give me? And no one honks or yells at me to get off the road.

I ride until I can pull over, they don't kill me. It's not perfect, but it works.

I think this might be a gate up to Waverly Sanitorium. I'd kind of like to check it out, but only with someone taller than me.

So far my ride has been fairly pedestrian, so to speak, but now things get fun. I lift the metal rope and plow ahead.

I spy 4 or 5 deer, but only get this shot of two of them.

Look! I get to ride through giant puddles with no idea of what lies underneath!

Okay, I made that up. I've ridden this in Dry Times and I know there are lots of rocks and broken concrete down there. It's rideable.

This ride also has Mystery.

Who lives here? Or is it just a garage? Why are there always several busses parked out front? Will I be shot by a Valley Station Stereotype?

I just ride harder.

Turn up the gravel road and . . . where am I?

AhHAA!

Christian Academy SW!

St. Andy's with NO DIXIE!!

God must be smiling on me . . . .

We all have things we don't want to do, but must do. In all oil a fly may lurk. Every jar of Vaseline may get sand in it. Even my Golden Route has a smudge.

St. Andy's is that smudge. No way around it, over it, or even under it. I steel myself to ride through it, fast.

Go go go go go go go go go go go . . . . yeehaw! A sidewalk!!

Now, a word about cycling on sidewalks. First, you need to know that if you are over 11 years old (or is it 12?) it is illegal to ride your bike on sidewalks. I eschew the sidewalk 95% of the time. They are bumpy, dangerous to cyclists (think driveways, entrances to parking lots, and the like), and dangerous to pedestrians. Bicycles belong on the road.

HOWEVER, I make some exceptions. I will happily break the law when:

1) the road has no shoulder, is only two lanes, and is too heavily travelled to be safe; and 2) there are no pedestrians (which is usually the case here in Louisville. We just don't walk places.) This stretch of St. Andy's has lots of traffic, no shoulder, and there is a sidewalk that almost never has a pedestrian on it. When I did encounter two walkers I swung wide through the grass and said "Hello" before I passed ( to politely warn them).

Trolls used to live on this bridge and grabbed at me everytime I crossed it. Someone trimmed the shrubbery and now the trolls seem to have moved on. Maybe they are in a storm drain at Dixie and Lower Hunters Trace.

Soon I am past Doss and onto the secret sidewalk. This blissful little pathway soon peters out and I'm left to wrestle with a few hundred yards of more St. Andy, mostly by riding through parking lots.

A right turn onto Palatka, and then a left down a mysterious street.

Soon, it becomes apparent that "No Outlet" has no meaning to me!

I'm trail-riding in Iroquois Park - Bwuahhahahahaha!!

I exit near the stables and head up the no-cars-allowed hills. As you can see, daylight is fading. That's why I carry a headlight and taillight. I put both on the blinky to-be-seen setting, as the city has plenty of streetlights to light my way.

I zoom down Southern Parkway . . .

("Zoom," by the way, is highly relative term. I am confident my zooming is zoomier than some others, yet I also humbly acknowledge that most people who regularly cycle would put my zooming to shame. Just as in childhood, I remain a solidly mediocre, but determined, athlete.)

On 4th Street I pass my benefactor, Catholic Charities. Without them bringing so many refugees to Louisville I wouldn't have a job, or so many tasty dinner options.

Also on 4th Street is the mosque where many of my students and their families go to pray. People of many different nationalities pray here.

This is the old Masterson's Restaurant site. Soon there will be apartments for U of L students and, more importantly, FOOD.

Heine Bros., Papalino's Pizza, and Comfy Cow Ice Cream - the trifecta of Incredibly Good Local Eats - are all going to be here.

It's so nice to know I can replace all of the calories I burn cycling while staying close to home.

I turn off 4th Street, past Cochran Elementary, and through St. James Court. I am so lucky to live in this neighborhood.

And then I'm home! It took me just over an hour and I got to ride roads, trails, through a beautiful park, and through giant puddles on a not-road.

Unlike when I drive home ( in half the time) I am alert, refreshed, happy, and already have my workout done. All of those things make the extra commuting time completely worth it.

And I didn't burn any gasoline.

And I got to be in the woods, at least for a little bit.

And I earned a guilt-free beer.

And I get to feel self-righteous.

"This Was The Commute That Was" Part IVa

Many, many gigabytes have been devoted to the whys and wherefores of bicycle commuting. So many "tips" and "how-tos" are available, I have become bored by the genre. It is much more interesting to figure out how to make a particular ride work, especially one I am on (but I am fond of Chris Balish's How to Live Well Without Owning a Car.

I have spent countless hours trying to work out the particulars of biking to work. Many people just reverse their route for am and pm commuting, but that doesn't work for me. You see, I must commute to Valley Station. For Louisvillians, this is equivalent to saying "I want to commit suicide on Dixie Die-way." For non-Louisvillians, this is equivalent to saying "I am cycling to Dante's 7th level of Hell." Not only is DIXIE a Bad Road, it is ugly (stripmallstripmallstripmall-redlight-stripmallstripmallstripmall-redlight-stripmallstripmallstripmall-adultentertainment-stripmallstripmallstripmall-accidentscene) But for many Louisvillians it is the only known route to Valley Station.

Can a bike survive it? With the rider intact?

Well, yes, with some important modifications to the route, the most important being Don't Bike On Dixie. This is how I managed getting to work car-free one morning this past fall (coming home is another story, literally).

First I get someone else to take godson to preschool. Once that's done I can head off to meet my Destiny.

I leave about 25 minutes earlier than if I was driving and head west down Hill Street to DIXIE (it only takes about 10 minutes to get there).

Like many bus riders, I wait somewhat impatiently, "Where is the bus? Where is the bus? YES! There it is!"

My bike and I get on board and settle in for the long ride out to Valley Station. Usually I happily listen to the Two Johns Podcast. Occasionally I'll chat with a fellow commuter. The guy with the blue bandanna is friendly. Once I was engaged for the whole ride by a guy on work-release. It's nice to interact with different sorts of people. Sometimes.

I have noticed that most Louisvillians eschew the bus. I used to do this, too, until I was stuck without a car in my early twenties. I discovered that riding the bus wasn't scary or difficult. When I used public transit in other cities I realized that only using a car was really silly. Why should I drive around looking for a parking place when the bus stop is right by the front door? TARC isn't always the best choice, but sometimes it is just right(like on my morning no-car commute).

And did you notice that cool bike rack on the front of the bus?

Hey! Here's my stop (think. of course!)

Get it? "ponder"?

"De Nada"? . . . . nevermind

I have to wait a little to cross Dixie . . .

. . . but once I do I'm ready to cross the RR Tracks (which head straight to my neighborhood; if only I could bike on the rails), roll through the little neighborhood by my school and then head up to little ol' Layne Elementary.

The whole journey takes about an hour, twice as long as driving. It isn't faster than a car. It depends on an infernal internal combustion engine i.e. polluting metal beastie. It isn't free ($1.50 bus fare). Why do it at all?

1. I am SOOOO much happier and more relaxed when I get to work.

2. I get to ride my bike home.

This Was The Ride That Was, Part III

In the Spring of 2010 I tried cyclocross for the first time. In Shelbyville there was a little race organized by Main Street Bikes that was perfect for me - almost no one was there and there wasn't any mud. It turns out the women's race had three contenders -me, a very good 13 year old, and SURPRISE!! the gf. She was a last minute entry, lured into the race by the guarantee of getting a workout in and the vibe being so mellow and non-competitive. A bike shop dude lent her his schwanky mountain bike and she borrowed a helmet from her son. A true iconoclast, she even chose to forgo spandex and race in her khakis. Thank god I beat her (but the 13year old beat me, easily, by more yards than I could count; frankly, I lost sight of her early on).

I don't have a broken nose, but I do have chronic allergies and wear one of those nose strips. It helps a lot and wouldn't you know? People are so kind, always asking if I'm okay while they stare at my nose.

I'm riding a decade-or-so-old Kestrel mountain bike. For those of you aren't in the know, this means that I'm not serious about 'cross e.g. fat tires with too-big tread, carrying water bottle, not a cyclocross bike, visor on my helmet, not enough vents in my helmet (as a more race-worthy helmet would have), and I'm not wearing cycling shoes with clipless pedals.

That disgusted look on my face? I can't believe how far ahead the gf is!! How is this possible?! How much harder must I ride?! Roll on, Columbia . . . .

I love this picture. The sky, the field . . . and me hunting down my unsuspecting prey - ha ha ha.

"I will not be beat by khaki pants. I will not be beat by khaki pants. I will not be beat by khaki pants."

The photographer can only catch me from the back as I sweep past him, and his mom. Ha ha ha!!

I did some other races in the summer and fall. Races with clipless pedals, skinnier tires, and the same commuter helmet. But none of them had the memorable elements of this race: a competitor wearing khaki cotton twill pants and a competitor whom I passed.

I have higher hopes for 2011.

Part 1 of "This Was The Ride That Was"

On this last day of 2010 thoughts drift back through time . . . back to Great Rides of 2010. It was a stellar year in my cycling career - attempts at racing, my first bike-tour, "epic" commuting. But one of my favorite rides of 2010 was not so grand as these, just a little jaunt up HWY 101 in OR!!!! To hike up MT. NEAHKANIE!!!! On SINGLESPEED CRUISERS WITH COASTER BRAKES!!!!!!!

THE BIKES

I like renting bikes when I travel, that way I can ride bikes I wouldn't normally get the chance to try out. I keep hoping for something other than a singlespeed cruiser and while sometimes I can find a "sweet whip" (as the kids on the corner say), usually it's a version of the Torker you see on the left. They're not terrible, just more painful than I would prefer.

THE GOAL

Mount Neahkanie is near Manzanita, OR, which is about three hours from Portland. The famous Highway 101 goes over and through it. A gravel road just off the highway leads to the trailhead, the trail leads to the summit. The gf and I decided to throw ourselves at the mountain and see what happened.

THE RIDE

Highway 101 is a two-lane road that runs all along the Pacific Coast. Lots of cyclists ride it. More cars drive it. The stretch we were on did not have a shoulder or bike lane. It did have a steep steep steep incline and lots of traffic, including logging trucks. I have a predictable response when passed too closely by large motor vehicles - AAAAHHHHHH!!!!! - I got to use that alot riding on 101.

Eventually my had-to-weigh-70lbs Torker and I made it to the gravel turn-off. The gf and I walked toward the trailhead, but it was farther than we thought and kept going uphill. The bikes were abandoned (well, parked on the side of the road) and

Finally, the trail! Hooray! The trail! The trail! The trail . . . keeps going up . . .and up . . . and up . . . .

We persevered and eventually made it to the top.

On our way back down the trail we kept thinking about the traffic on 101 and the coaster brakes on our Torkers ("aaaauuuggghhh!"). The gf is bolder than me and before we could get back to the bikes she arranged a ride down the hill with a guy who had a pickup. He was very nice, but had to give us the obligatory business about not wearing helmets "Hey man, we're on vacation" (okay okay, it is a lame excuse).

He was very kind and dropped us off at the pie-and-coffee shop on the edge of town.

Unfortunately, rather mediocre pie and coffee ended our very awesome bike

The next day I opted for the flats.