CD's Saturday cycling tip: sand trap

Around here, municipalities prefer a sand-and-salt mix as their approach to snow and ice on the roads. A key tactic is to spread the mix at intersections of interest. For cars this works fine and on a mountain bike in the snow and ice a rider won't even notice. Things gets trickier after the precipitation is gone and the road is dry because the sand is still there. The trick is compounded as the passage of cars tends to sweep the sand on to shoulders or into corners — just the sorts of places road cyclists tend to ride or turn through. The situation is now as slippery in such spots for the cyclist as it was for the driver before the sand and salt. My morning commute has two notable dunes: one at Trinity and Chapel Hill roads, the other just down the street at Trinity Road and East Chatham Street. Cycledork claims no technical expertise but I try to avoid the sand if possible. If that's not possible — and in some situations crunching forward on sand and gravel is the best solution — slow down, especially through corners. If traffic allows, ride around it. Obviously, that's not always an option. So be vigilant. Watching and looking are always good habits, particularly when approaching a potential hazard. The payoff here is that sometimes that sand bar has enough tire tracks through it to actually provide a clear(er) path. Especially on a road bike, avoid braking while in the sand unless, of course, you want to slide.

C'dork's Friday ride guide: get lost

The fact is I need to find some new routes. I'm fond of the favorites I've been posting every Friday. They are mildly scenic and fit my mileage-and-time needs. But when the highlight of my ride is will a particular — and friendly — dog be sleeping in a particular yard it's time for something new. Most of my rides are also to the west through northeast Chatham County. Nothing wrong with that. Light traffic through the woods with a good shoulder is more than you get in a lot of places. But I need to figure out how to blaze trails around Raleigh to get to northern (and rural) Wake County. If I can concoct a way to the south to Ten-Ten Road without offering myself as a sacrifice on Kildaire Farm or Holly Springs roads that could also be fertile fields for new riding. Otherwise it'll just be the same old thing. I guess it's really time to woodshed with my North Carolina Atlas & Gazeteer and GoogleMaps.

Cudgel of shame

As this entry addresses cycling and certain winter weather conditions, certain readers will want to wait until the next post. You know who you are. Anyway. It snowed early this morning followed by other forms of precipitation throughout the day. Here in the Triangle that phenomenon unhinges people. It would be hilarious if it weren't so moronic. I was in the office by 8:45 a.m. I was one of the first ones in, preceded, by among others, our big boss. She's Canadian so the dusting and sleet and rain had no effect. Nevertheless she noted that I had come in on the mountain bike. At that point I offered myself as the previously mentioned cudgel of shame with which she could beat our coworkers. Though charmed by my selflessness, my observation indicated she declined to take advantage. After making my offer I walked to my standing appointment at the Cary Police Department. My contact there wasted no time in kindheartedly using me as an instrument of discipline for some of his tardier charges. But, you know, if a guy on a mountain bike can beat you into work during a seasonal hiccup you should be embarrassed, no matter how terribly the natives have gummed up traffic on the freeways.
Here at cycledork central the big news is that there were no flaming socks today. The new rain pants held up their end. My hikers and tops performed as dependably as a rider could want. Even though this was the day The Secret Weapon was designed for, they only work with the pedals on the 2100. I know though from some rainy rides that they live up to their billing. As you might expect from a group that can delay highways for hours over an inch of semisolid precipitation, drivers were stupid. Fortunately, where I was riding, they were few. Bottom line: the only moisture on my skin at either end of the trip was perspiration.

Found

I went through one of my daily rituals a little while ago and was pleased when the result came out differently. I've googled cycledork every day since Nov. 16 when the first post went up. Not only is cycledork there today, it sits at the top of the list. While I concede that it's a short list, I've worked relentlessly to claw my way on to it, much less to the top of it. For the first month or so all I got were pages that had nothing to do with me. My entries at the Cycling Plus magazine forums started showing up at about the same time that I could find cycledork by doing a blog search. Recently, similar postings to Bicycling magazine's online community began appearing. But not until today did cycledork show up, free and proud, through a straight Google search. For today at least, being alive in the ether is almost as good as being on the road.

Hot shops

I bought my first adult bike in October 1997. It is a GT Palomar and bears a remarkable resemblance to the one in the picture in the link. I bought it at Big Shark Bicycle Co. at its original location in University City, Mo. Now a few blocks to the east, the shop has been recognized as one of the "Top 100 Retailers 2006" by Bicycle Retailer & Industry News (look for the clickable link on the right side of the page). I told the guy who sold it to me how much I wanted to spend and gave him a realistic overview of how I intended to ride. He didn't waver in his recommendation about the bike — or that I needed a helmet. The whole transaction took maybe 20 minutes. Though it's now the bike I depend on when I use my trainer, the Palomar was a huge step for me when I got it and a huge help when I needed it. Closer in time and closer to my present home, The Clean Machine (now known as The Bicycle Chain) in Carrboro also made it. It looks like I have another shop to visit.

Wind, semantics and control

As I was riding from east to west today along my favorite 40-mile route the wind was mostly blowing from west to east. At several moments I did a terrific impression of a bikebound Marcel Marceau, providing the illusion of pedalling while not actually going anywhere. On this planet, wind is a fact of life. When riding in a group there are tactics for minimizing its effect based on how bikes position themselves in a draft. Alone you just accept. There are many phrases: ride into the wind or against the wind or with the wind. Into connotes embrace; against, confrontation; with, partnership. The relationship between rider and wind isn't a dialectic. We don't affect the wind. Only the other way around. Here at cycledork, our meaningless preposition of choice to go with ride and wind is through. Through keeps us separate from it while acknowledging that it surrounds us. Eventually the wind's effect diminishes even if it's after we're off the bike. But by then we've usually made it home and maintained necessary illusions, at least for ourselves.

CD's Saturday cycling tip: working yourself into a corner

Cycledork manages most curves and turns with all the panache of a barge on a pond. Nevertheless it's understood that there are ways to smooth the transition from going in one direction to going in another. Approaching the turn or curve, bring the knee to the inside of the movement up. Sometimes it helps to go a little to the outside of the original travel lane before the turn to get to the inside of the new travel lane. Even though there's a front wheel that turns, try not to turn it through the direction change. Lean the bike instead keeping the front wheel straight. Brake ahead of the curve or turn. Avoid using brakes in a curve or turn for the same reason that action should be avoided in a car — it's a recipe for skidding and losing control. All easy to say, harder for c'dork to accomplish. But the results when it comes together are enough to keep me working at it. Maybe techniquewise cycledork can eventually trade up from a barge to a sunfish.