Tag Archives: exercise

Start Small – Good Bike Parts and Crappy Bike Parts

Posted on by

 

Gouda, land of Cheese, Beer and a wonderful old town.

Gouda, land of Cheese, Beer and a wonderful old town.

 

The title of this short piece refers to a line of miscommunication that happened today, between myself and the cycle fixing, genius staff at Bikes on the Drive. I only mention it now, so I can cleverly refer to it again at the end of my story, with a deep, meaningful life message latched on to it. Next week I will be traveling 170km, along the Sea to Sky Highway, through mountainous terrain, to the Pemberton Music Festival, a 4 day long extravaganza, spanning all genres and comedy. I have never attended a music festival that you can camp at, so I am super excited to see some great artists, meet my “neighbors”, engorge myself with unhealthy amounts of sodium, fat and alcohol and see/walk in/cycle in some lovely nature, that provides the natural backdrop for the event. Oh…and not shower. Big fan of not showering at moderate levels.

 

I am equally, or even more so excited to cycle up there, as I haven’t “toured” in a year and am feeling quite antsy about be subjected to this singular, immotile living style that getting an education forces one to endure. I mean…my house has four walls…in fact MORE THAN FOUR WALLS. What’s with that? The Sea To Sky Highway, merges a feeling of fascination and ominous fear in me. The epic magnitude of parts of the ride is known to me, as I have driven up to Whistler before. Though, it has been a while, and the scenery will definitely feel new and my ability to take it all in will be enhanced by the speed and possibilities of being on a bicycle.

 

That already explains why I am excited for the ride. My fear is in my own strength to complete the ride as planned. I have never completed 170 clicks in one day. I have done 140 and that was at the peak of my bike trip across Europe and it wasn’t through mountains, but hilly Germany. While I do not like the speed trial version of cycling, I have no choice, on account that I have only one day off work to make it there. The cushioning is is that the concert does not start until 2pm the next day, but I want to get a good site to camp on, so the earlier, the closer, the better (love cycling, fuck walking (kidding…)).

 

Me. Posing like a boss. Heilongtan, Beijing.

Me. Posing like a boss. Heilongtan, Beijing.

To help myself succeed at this somewhat lofty task, I did some shopping on this fine, clouded, petrichor-ish Saturday. I now look at everything I purchase with the consideration of my world tour that will start in less than two years. If I am going to buy equipment or parts, I want to make sure that it is transferable to my new, as yet to be purchased bike and that it is of high quality. This is very uncharacteristic of me, as I am stubborn and presume that I can finagle by way out of spending coin by purchasing hand-me-downs. Future me will thank past me, when I am not trapped in the middle of a scorching desert, in the bowels of dense jungle, captured by some wild dogs and forced throw the ball for eternity for them, due to a cheap pedal snapping off. Originally, I visited my old, wrecked Norco touring bike at my parents, shed a few tears as I still miss it, and tried to wrench off the pedals from it’s frame to try to reuse them on my new bike. Unfortunately, the impacted from my big crash 5 years ago, made it impossible to get one of the pedals off. I also showed the lovely sales gentleman at On The Rivet Bike Shop my Shimano bike shoes and old cleats and they too were fused and worn beyond removal or repair.

 

So I got these sweet, sweet goodies:

newshoes

The Giro Terraduro shoes ($260) aren’t cheap (in fact, they are the most expensive shoes I have ever bought) and for a penny-pinching student/artist/terrible with moneys type of person I am and will destined forever to be, it was a tough sell. But they just fit so nice, don’t overtly look like bike shoes (which is good for areas where you don’t want to show off your fancy pantsy-ness) and have great tread when I want to use them for walking/hiking/sneak up on my enemies. Again, they are great investments and the people at On The Rivet, were passionate and gave me a wide plethora of options to compare them to, to help me feel confident in my decision. Great staff make a place, and these guys were awesome, invested in my time and wanting to make sure I got the right shoe at a reasonable price for my price range.

 

The Shimano A530 SPD pedals ($100) are similar to the ones on my old bike, which means that one side is the clipless pedal side and one, you can use normal shoes with. The versatile option gives you the choice for a daily commute and a tour. I thought after I purchased these items, I could probably get them online for cheaper. Low and behold you can, but I would need more time pre-Pemberton to do so. Plus, that sales guy, he Worked It (Missy Elliot reference, who will also be at Pemberton!!! EXCITEMENT -> Head explodes).

 

If you don’t know anything about bicycles, this may all seem like gobblygoop to you, which I don’t wish it to seem like, as bike talk should be accessible to everyone. Bike shoes and clipless pedals, as they are known as, work together to allow you to fully take advantage of the motion of the pedal crank and the power you are putting into each rotation of the wheels. When we push down on the pedal, our muscle strength and weight push the pedal and crank, thus powering the gears and the wheels, and the motion of the bicycle forward. With a normal pedal, on its upwards motion, you foot simply rests on it, waiting to push down again. With your shoe attached to the pedal with the snap on cleats of bike shoes and the clipless pedals, you are actually utilizing an entirely different muscle set, to pull up on the pedal, thus pulling the crank and gears, increasing your power by about 50%. This is SUPER helpful for uphill slogs and increasing your speed at a rapid rate. The cleats come out of the pedals by a twist of your feet and take a bit of time to get use to, usually amounting to a bunch of falling and cursing (my first clipless fall was into a puddle in Amsterdam…Amsterdam, bike capital of the world). But after a while, you get use to them and riding without them, feels like play N64 without the Rumble Pak (good analogy…). There are other options that also increase your pedal power, such as toe clips and straps made of metal and leather. Personally, I just find they are cumbersome, inefficient in matching with different shoes and unreliable in using all your power. I also find them a bit dangerous, as you cannot simply twist and unclip.

 

Those were the small things I had purchased, in pursuit of world tour wanderlust. This is where the miscommunication happened. I took my bike in to my usual place, Bikes on the Drive to get it checked out by their mechanics, just to make sure it would make it to Pemberton. I talked to the guy in the back about touring and bike components. When I said, “it’s good to start with little things”, he thought I meant smaller tours and agreed, noting a family who had planned to ride to Mexico and only made it to Bellingham. Funnily enough that was my first trip as well, but I made it all the way. To be fair, I had no sort of family in tow (literally). I started with the big things and worked my way backwards, in that regards, learning along the way. In more than a few instances, help and luck succeeded and allowed me to go on. This time I want to make a list and check it twice, take infantile baby steps, quadruple check every, finite, microscopic detail and be as prepared as I could be. My bike’s derailer needed to be replaced, as my current beast of burden, is a constant work in progress, which is great for a learning tool, but will never leave this country on a tour of any sort. It’s kind of like Moses, in a way. Does all the legwork, only to find out the fame and glory won’t be his. Wow, an agnostic Jew wielding a bible story. Stranger things have happened. Like me, being bikeless until Tuesday. Balls.

Please support these AMAZING local bike shops, that a fullheartedly endorse. Good people, great service, non-pretentious knowledge:

1. Bikes on the Drive – 1350 Commercial Drive – My go to bike shop. From servicing, to bike gear, to new bikes, to….you name it, these are people you want to get to know and sometimes, creepily linger around. I try to not do the latter too much, though the staff may feel otherwise.

2. OntheRivet Cyclewear – 8 East Broadway – Lots of bags, clothing, SHOES, pedals, helmets, etc and staff who will make sure you get exactly what you want. It’s a small, intimate space, that is more friendly and warm than claustrophobic. You are greeted with smiles and you leave smiling. They understand budgets, cycle love and good products.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Possibility of My End – A Bike Tourist’s Fears

Posted on by
Me on a ferry from Zebrugge to Hull.

Me on a ferry from Zebrugge to Hull.

There is only so much you can prepare and read up on to cycle around the world. The preparation comes in the form of amassing enough bicycle and survivor knowledge to make it through the rougher, more isolated patches of the tour, being attuned to quick fixes, work arounds and just knowing of the very possibility of being stranded with your loyal, two wheeled steed. Reading provides additional knowledge about these dire times on the road, but also acts as sort of a harlequin novel, a steamy romance, a fantastical exposé brimming with exoticism. It never seems real, even when there are people I know in the publication’s pictures, people I have met amidst the journey that I now read about.

 

Pancake in Middelburg, Netherlands

Pancake in Middelburg, Netherlands

So there is a gap in reality, an unfathomable, and unpreparable amount of possibilities that precariously latch on to a “world cycling tour”. These “what ifs” hit me like a cacophony of screaming voices, naysaying that this as a great idea, doubting it’s logic, tearing it apart like it was a carcass, and each melancholic tone was a ravenous hyena. Some of the voices are real, as in, they are real people telling me of their fears of what is to become of me. Some of the voices are deep inside of me, concerned for my own soundness of mind and safety. My biggest fears of the road are as follows.

 

Beatup

 

Robbery

 

On my 2010 tour from Amsterdam to Istanbul I experienced this. Two Bulgarians beat the shit out of me in Svilengrad. In the end, they only got a pair of battered sunglasses and I was able to ride through Greece and into Turkey the next day. My fear is what if it had had a less pleasant outcome? What if they had had weapons that they simply didn’t just carry for brandishing purposes? I know that being robbed and hurt is always a possibility, even in my own city, but especially when I travel to countries where I appear to be an anomaly, associated with the wealthy Western hemisphere, simply due to my leisure form of travel and the colour of my skin. I have theorized how I will try to avoid this from the get go. Again, if anyone has better alternatives, please chime in. First is to camouflage the bicycle. I don’t care about its appearance; just it’s condition and functionality. Scratching it, smearing paint on it, dinging it a bit, may draw less attention to it as a shiny, new bike and that it’s owner is financial well off. Growing out my hair, both on my face and head, may also give myself the appearance of a gruff vagrant, a drifter, as opposed to a bike tourist who has a Gopro Camera, computer and plethora of other gizmos and gadgets on his person. Finally, I plan to carry an additional wallet on me, that only contains a few dollars and possibly some expired cards. My theory is, that as long as I present the robbers with something and that in the heat of the moment, they think that is all I have, they may take it and let me go along my merry way.

 

 

Some crazy dude rebuilt Noah's Ark in Dordrecht, Netherlands.

Some crazy dude rebuilt Noah’s Ark in Dordrecht, Netherlands.

 

Violence

 

As quick as a spark from flint, civil disorder, violent upheaval and run-amuckery can explode in any corner of the earth. Tensions can lead to sweltering results and my fear is that I get unknowingly entrapped in a situation, which puts me face to face with blind and jaded violence, that takes aim at anything moving in it’s general vicinity. There is no way to avoid this unforeseen problem, asides from keeping my ear to the road, asking locals about each step of the journey, keeping abreast of any reports and/or rumors and being flexible to change my plans at a moment’s notice. There are certain countries that have been built into my Eurocentric mentality to fear. A large part of this journey is to reconsider these fears and if they are built upon generalized fiction or appalling truths. Yet, they still remain fears, that no matter how much blunt logic stands against them, like the peak of a rollercoaster, the thought of them, makes my skin clammy, my breath pick up, my heart run a marathon.

 

Kinderdijk, UNESCO windmills in the Netherlands.

Kinderdijk, UNESCO windmills in the Netherlands.

 

Natural Obstacles

 

Cyclists die all the time and aren’t found for months due to the remoteness of their final resting places. The human body can only endure so much starvation and exhaustion, before turning on itself, shutting down specific faculties, breaking down tissue, trying to protect and feed the brain and heart from finally giving out. Sorry for the details, but I am scared of these places, scared that my bike knowledge will suddenly escape me and I will stranded with a broken bicycle in the middle of a desert or on the very top of a barren mountain with not a sign of life for a thousand kilometers in each direction, snow spilling out of the guts of the cloudy skies above. I am trying to avoid this by compiling a “Bikes for Dummies” guide for myself, both as a digital and physical copy, in case I run out of electricity and/or my solar panels are dead or broken. Each plan has a backup plan, so if A doesn’t work, or B, C will definitely work. I am trying to cover all my bases to avoid, peaceful nature, turning into maleficent natural disaster. I plan to switch out gear when I come to the big cities, because as the weather and the terrain changes, it will require a different approach to each aspect of road life. A tent will be needed instead of a hammock, a cover slip will be replaced by a thick sleeping back, thin and wiley tires, will be replaced with ones with ultimate traction. Again, being practical and unheroic about each step, will avoid any nasty surprises when I realize I didn’t bring the appropriate tools for this specific leg of the journey. Also not being an idiot and heading into nature without knowing what I am to be looking forward to, is probably a safe bet to avoid disastrous foolhardiness as well.

 

 

Delft - Town centre.

Delft – Town centre.

 

Religion

 

A simple tattoo, if revealed, may sway people’s entire perception of me. When I was 17, I got my first ink on my left shoulder, in memory of my grandfather. The Hebrew writing, reads Shlomo, and in fine small cursive below it reads “home again, home again jiggidy jig” from the nursery rhyme about the pigs, a phrase that he use to sing song mutter under his English Leather scented breath when we returned home. I am worried that if people see the tattoo, they may simply dislike me due to our religious differences and the assumptions they associated with Judaism. I am not religious in the slightest, nor care to divulge to people my opinions about a homeland, that I have no connection to. When I think it is necessary, I am not ashamed to hide the tattoo and with it, my Jewishness. My role, as a visitor to other countries, is not to antagonize nor question. It is simply to visit, to learn and to listen. Politics and religion, as dividing markers are the ultimate measurements of stubbornness and unwillingness. Let’s talk about history, trees, laughter, a world of other things that do not ultimately pit one against another.

 

The minster of Beverly, England.

The minster of Beverly, England.

 

It will be a nerve racking, yet adrenaline pumping three years and part of my safety net is knowing that you read this and are along with me every step of the way. The Kerouac inside of me sees this writing as the ultimate testimony of my existence and tracks my process, physically and mentally, as I am subjected to struggles and victories each day. The mama’s boy inside me, smirks at my self deification and sees these words as more as a pinpoint on a map, that if I go radio silent (or blog silent), my mother can start her search for her only son. Yes, it’s morbid, but that’s just the delicate, high wire act that is this so called life. Oh yeah, and deportation/visa problems. Those suck as well, but since I have experience with them, which is a long winded tale for another time, I am more annoyed than scared of them. Being able to laugh off shit, is also an important tool. Shit will happen, it’s my reaction and lasting impression that will truly mar and heighten my tours.

Make sure to follow, like and more importantly add your suggestions to the forums for the WORLD TOUR, continentforums.wordpress.com

Sincerely,

Ira – Misguided Guide of Cycling the World

 

Inspirational Each Milers: The Anyone Can Do It World Tour

Posted on by

 

My first cycle tour, outside of Pea Soup Andersen's in Buellton, California.

My first cycle tour, outside of Pea Soup Andersen’s in Buellton, California.

When I set forth 5 years ago on my first tour I knew very little about the two-wheeled vehicle that I was sticking between my legs and riding down to Mexico. As time has passed, and tours have been completed, little by little I have learned along the way what I need to make basic adjustments, repairs and have some vague idea how to live out of a tent. I still am slow at all of this, still look awkward when I am keeled over my bike, investigating a problem and still put the wheel on backwards now and again, after fixing a flat.

b1

I hesitate to label myself a cyclist, because I am put off by many of the associations that the name may imply, especially a snooty, elitist, sectarian attitude towards bike culture. I’ve met these type of cyclists and it has nothing to do with whether they wear a lycra bibby or have the top of the line, carbon framed road bike. They come from all different walks of life, all shapes, lycra wrapped or sporting a worn bike hat, rim flipped upwards, freely wagging in the breeze due to a lack of a helmet, lawyers and bike shop employees, 1st handers and 3rd handers, all who consider themselves the second coming, prophets on pedals, with their heads so far up their own asses, they can’t see how ridiculous their own pomposity comes across. I dislike these swines, not only for how they act, but the fear they imbue in others in regards to bicycles. They make cycle enthusiasts feel inferior, that they do not know enough about their bicycles to use them, that all their cycle questions are too simple, amateur and downright idiotic. People are scared to step into certain cycle shops and bike coops due to this feeling. Now some of this is self perpetuated, but there is also the “better than thou” complex of “hardcore” cyclists that enforce it, insinuated by their use of overtly technical lingo and snide lambasting of other’s lack of knowledge. “WHAAAT, YOU CAN’T CHANGE A SPOKE??? OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” Hey asshole, you have to start somewhere! It’s like job applications in Vancouver. How am I suppose to have three years serving experience, if all jobs for servers require at least three years serving experience.?

 

For me, inspirational Each Milers are those who have influenced me, helped me without a single bit of elitism, creating and promoting a positive environment surrounding the bicycle. First and foremost, they believe that everyone should be able to participate in the culture, ride bikes to their hearts’ content, free from judgment and insult. If they ride with you, sure they could race ahead, never unclip, never stop, for their legs have the strength and diameter of Redwood sequoias, but they would rather ride beside you, explain the mise en scene, compliment your ride, stop for a beer or two. They never scoff at your questions, but greatly invite them, teaching you in hopes that you will pass the knowledge on to someone else, to continue to inspire people to cycle farther, to cycle more, to cycle through whatever the sky decides to do any given day, to test the preconceived limitations of distance and elevation and exceed them.

 

Kevin stops from cycling around the world to have a much needed dance break with me.

Kevin stops from cycling around the world to have a much needed dance break with me.

Several of these inspirational Each Milers are locals, like the lovely people at Bikes on the Drive, who are constantly happy to answer all my bike questions, pass along great and sincere information and are excited by my future cycle endeavors. A few inspirational Each Milers are abroad, like Kevin, a cyclist from Belfast, who I met through Couchsurfing. I hosted him, when I lived in Beijing and my girlfriend at the time, was sure I would disappear with him at nightfall, joining him on his world domination via two wheels and self penned guitar tunes. He had cycled from home to Beijing and continued onwards, by boat across to North America, cycling north to the Arctic, before turning around and heading down through Latin America. He is a down to earth soul, immensely inspiration, funny as fucking hell and a WAY TOO talented son of bitch for his own good. In fact, some shameless promotion for him, he is on a cycling trip as I type this from Belfast to Australia, which you can follow at: http://www.cycle2sydney.com/

 

Beijing Bike, Blue Steal - Inanimate Inspirational Each Miler

Beijing Bike, Blue Steal – Inanimate Inspirational Each Miler

And lastly, there are the inspirational Each Milers that are the nameless faces I have met along the many ways I have gone. From some hilarious Serbian cyclists in Turkey, to an old German lady, who I met in the middle of the forest, who cycled with me to find the rest of my group, these are the people that I admire and call my personal heroes. They don’t look at your bike and how you are dressed and roll their eyes or wait until you shut up so they can tell you what you are doing wrong and what they are doing right. They are real people, willing to listen, laugh and live within the moment, rather than tearing it to pieces. These are the inspirational Each Milers that make a world tour something that does not sit unattainable on a pedestal, but something that if you, you being anyone, want to do, no second thoughts, caution be the wind, do it, do it and do it again. Unpretentious, unregulated bliss.

h6