Tag Archives: touring

Start Small – Good Bike Parts and Crappy Bike Parts

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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:

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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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fucking Up – The Fast Track to Learning Your Bicycle

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In 2010 I went on my first tour without an iota of bike fixing no how. Basically my understanding of bicycles was, you pedal, they move forward, you brake, they usually stop. I left home with a single multi tool that I had never used before, a set of allen keys and a portable plastic pump. I don’t even think I brought extra tube with me. I am sure I didn’t have any extra spokes. This would all seem like red alerts for future me of a bad situation festering and plotting, but past me, was oblivious to bike failure or it’s maintenance to avoid it.

And nature and the odds pitied me all the way to California. I had travelled hundreds of miles down the coast without a single issue with my bicycle. I had picked up the concept of bike chain lubing somewhere on the side of the road in Washington, so even the sound of my used jalopy was pristine. Nothing was out of line, the wheel was straight, and the brakes weren’t rubbing. From a current perspective, this possibly was the all too calmness before the storm, the sitting in your home, asleep, unaware that the heavens were black and swelling with conspiratorial storms in the works.

 

oooooooooooh, Klamath, California.

oooooooooooh, Klamath, California.

Then, in Klamath, California, under the awning of ancient, thick sequoia trees, the timer stopped unexpectantly. I was staying at a motel across from the large statue of Paul Bunyan and his Blue Bull that stood in the parking lot of the Trees of Mysteries, part theme park, part museum, part schlocky tourist trap. The motel had a restaurant attached to it. I was sole patron, made to look even more depressing, as I was drinking beer, with the accompanying meal being the sampler appetizers combo, which consisted of a lot of yellow fried things that are usually shared between 12 likeminded, intoxicated individuals.  Blech times 12. The taxidermy duck legs that hung down from the faux water ceiling and the stuffed bear at the entrance, which were features highlighted by dead fly filled florescents, encouraged me to pay my bill and seek food elsewhere. Back in my room I removed my panniers from my bike, Klalita, and rode towards the “town” nearby, which reportedly had a general store or mercantile of sorts. What I had forgotten to remove were the bungee chords that I used to secure my tent to my rack. They went unnoticed for about a kilometer in and a half, when all of a sudden, around 6:30pm or so, one of them twisted around the back cassette, tearing my chain in half.

 

An amazing meal...

An amazing meal…

“My trip is over…”

 

This was my first thought. As I carried my bicycle back from whence I came, I attempted to work out where I could catch a bus, with all my gear and bike, back to Canada. This minor atrocity, at the time, seemed like the destruction of my entire world. Yet, as I entered my room, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, as I washed my hands off of bike grease, I realized that while it seemed as if I was in the middle of nowhere, I really wasn’t. I was in the US of A, which had a plethora of amenities that could salvage my bicycle and the trip it was on. I had passed MANY bike shops and cyclists, so finding one of those was an option. But then I remembered….I HAVE TOOLS! I have no idea what they do or if they can help me, but it was a worth a shot trying to figure them out.

 

Amidst the repairs

Amidst the repairs

With a slow internet connection, I typed my bike issue into the Youtube search menu. 85 million results. 84 million of them were tutorials on how to fix a chain. I set to work, following the step by step guide. Though it took several hours for a job that would now take me ten to twenty minutes, the exhilaration of fixing my own bike was worth the struggle. I had discovered a new desire to know everything about bicycles, to be as self sufficient as possible on future tours, that I now knew I wanted to have.

 

The view from across the hotel -Klamath, California.

The view from across the hotel -Klamath, California.

The safety net of being in a country with a plethora of resources for cycle tourists and travelers of all levels made it an ideal first country to tour in and more importantly, make mistakes in. I recently saw on a forum a cyclist lambasting people for touring without knowing your bicycle inside and out. While I think, if I were to do this trip over again, I would have learned a few more key skills in regards to bike fixing, but I would also say that nothing really prepares you for fuck ups. And fuck ups themselves are great teachers, as well as put you in contact with great people, opening lovely dialogues about bicycles and beyond. I think it’s unfair to say YOU MUST KNOW EVERYTHING TO BICYCLE TOUR. That is elitism at it’s finest. I think a working knowledge of things can avoid problems down the line, but I also think that I would rather people get on their bicycles, then not get on their bicycles, because they feel they are not part of the “club”, own a crazy amount of lycra or are dissuaded to tour, because of their lack of bike know-how. I know several non-cyclist cycle tourers who know enough about bikes. The rest, they fill in along the way. And sometimes you just need to improvise. In the end, it will all work out and you’ll feel the exhilaration of coming to a solution, whether it is the tried and true way, or the wonderfully creative and makeshift approach.

Inspirational Each Milers: The Anyone Can Do It World Tour

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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.

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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.

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