There's a lot to catch up on; but for now, here's my list for Coffeeneuring 2017. This year's theme is Coffeeneuring is for the animals! I've tried to pick coffee shop with animal themed names, which is surprisingly hard, there's a lot of coffee shops with ship themes, the location name, but actually very few named after animals. Here's the list, in no particular order;
Seattle Meowtropolitan
Bark Espresso
Ladybug Espresso
Monkey Grind Espresso
Rooster Espresso
The Couth Buzzard
Pegasus
Been working some crazy shifts, so worried about making it this year. The rules are more forgiving than ever, so here's knocking on wood and keeping the rubber side down!
Sunday, October 22, 2017
Friday, January 13, 2017
The Romance of Practicality
Has it only been two years since Scamper bounded into my life? As of yesterday, we celebrated our anniversary. It was a cold January day in 2015 as I eagerly awaited my bike, tracking the package like a predatory creature, ready to pounce at each delivery truck that passed. Seven hundred thirty-one days, well, thirty-two if you count today, of adventure. Scamper boasts more stickers on his frame, and patches on his bags. He's taken some damage, his fenders aren't as smooth, there's a touch of rust that I forever tend on his midbar.
Its fitting, I've taken some damage during those two years too, and added plumage. I'm not the sort of person who counts miles, I prefer to count journeys; from the SODO range, to the Burk-Gilman Trail, the downtown greenways for social rides, up improbable hills, and plunging down angles that literally steal one's breath. Scamper has borne my weight, and the weight of friends, always ready to strap on the basket and become a pseudo-cargo bike, or by bungee haul incredible loads.
Not just any bike could do what Scamper does, for while any frame could bear me during all of this, no bike could be so constantly by my side. Driven by conditions to take the bus, Scamper comes onboard, folded neatly, and stored properly. I always have to mentally prepare myself when boarding with Scamper. There are stares, some just gawk, while others give a deadpan-thousand-yard-stare, a few tilt their heads like the RCA dog, as if their eyes deceive the nature of the object before them. Once in a while, someone will exclaim, "Its not a wheelchair!" which I chalk up to just how I stand when riding with Scamper. But its not just the stares I'm preparing myself for, its the questions.
"What is that?" and "Where did you get it?" also, "How can you get far with those little wheels," and so forth. I try not to take umbridge with the latter questions, they can't see the journeys Scamper out mastered a hill over a bigger wheeled bike with a stronger rider. They don't know he's gone as far north as Everett and as far south as the edges of West Seattle (which is south, I seriously do not understand you people, your compasses work down here, so what's up with the ornery directionals?) They don't know at a glance Scamper is capable of bearing up to 250lbs. They see a bike the size of a child's in frame because they come from a 'bigger is better,' mentality.
I come from mentality of 'right tool for the right job,' and Scamper is just right. He's not so big he is put on the racks outside the bus, and the wear and tear shows on my husband's bike, which does ride on the outside because of it's size. Theft, the worry of which gnawed at my being every shift, became something that actually did happen to other people. Its pretty hard to steal a bike that's folded and stored inside, by a desk or in a closet. Even when I do have to lock him outside, I disable the midbar, which will cause any thief to face plant.
That closeness fostered a comradery between me and my bike. Is he practical? Yes, but that practicality is so much more. As a child I had... stubby legs, I never felt as fast as I ought to be, frustrating each journey. Once I could ride that changed, I was exactly as fast I thought I should be, mentally, it all fell into place. I started calling my bike my 'legs,' and never really shifted away from that. Folded up, Scamper is at my fingertips, ready to go from stationary to journey. I don't have to go outside to get my bike, just the front room. I'm not seperated from him no matter the manner of transportation.
I've been tempted by other frames in the past year, those sleek carbon forks, those aluminum frames, and those sturdy bakfiet beauties that grace the trails. Yet the very covetous nature prevents me from seeking one, for if I desire it, than who else also sees it with a cunning eye? Nobody wants to steal Scamper, even left unattended, he's covered in so many bikeindex.org stickers with a #ulockjustice sticker on his u-lock, he looks like the bike of a vengeful rider. Not exactly untrue. And none of those tempting beauties can do what Scamper can do, company and steed, bike and companion.
Even as time goes on, I'm not sure how I could ever part with him. Scamper brought me to the courthouse to marry my best friend, when I got hit by a car, Scamper withstood and supported my shaking hands. Planning an adventure, how else would I go? Glancing at each sticker adorning his frame I can recall the scratch beneath, or the circumstances of acquisition. Its only been two years, but a lifetime of riding squeezed itself in. Perhaps one day I will need another bike, or Scamper might, (knock on wood) someday be put out of commission.
Until that day, and probably even after, I'll be a folding filly. Maybe we're not the fastest ride on the rode, well, definitely we are not, but no matter the distance and the hills, we arrive.
Its fitting, I've taken some damage during those two years too, and added plumage. I'm not the sort of person who counts miles, I prefer to count journeys; from the SODO range, to the Burk-Gilman Trail, the downtown greenways for social rides, up improbable hills, and plunging down angles that literally steal one's breath. Scamper has borne my weight, and the weight of friends, always ready to strap on the basket and become a pseudo-cargo bike, or by bungee haul incredible loads.
Not just any bike could do what Scamper does, for while any frame could bear me during all of this, no bike could be so constantly by my side. Driven by conditions to take the bus, Scamper comes onboard, folded neatly, and stored properly. I always have to mentally prepare myself when boarding with Scamper. There are stares, some just gawk, while others give a deadpan-thousand-yard-stare, a few tilt their heads like the RCA dog, as if their eyes deceive the nature of the object before them. Once in a while, someone will exclaim, "Its not a wheelchair!" which I chalk up to just how I stand when riding with Scamper. But its not just the stares I'm preparing myself for, its the questions.
"What is that?" and "Where did you get it?" also, "How can you get far with those little wheels," and so forth. I try not to take umbridge with the latter questions, they can't see the journeys Scamper out mastered a hill over a bigger wheeled bike with a stronger rider. They don't know he's gone as far north as Everett and as far south as the edges of West Seattle (which is south, I seriously do not understand you people, your compasses work down here, so what's up with the ornery directionals?) They don't know at a glance Scamper is capable of bearing up to 250lbs. They see a bike the size of a child's in frame because they come from a 'bigger is better,' mentality.
I come from mentality of 'right tool for the right job,' and Scamper is just right. He's not so big he is put on the racks outside the bus, and the wear and tear shows on my husband's bike, which does ride on the outside because of it's size. Theft, the worry of which gnawed at my being every shift, became something that actually did happen to other people. Its pretty hard to steal a bike that's folded and stored inside, by a desk or in a closet. Even when I do have to lock him outside, I disable the midbar, which will cause any thief to face plant.
That closeness fostered a comradery between me and my bike. Is he practical? Yes, but that practicality is so much more. As a child I had... stubby legs, I never felt as fast as I ought to be, frustrating each journey. Once I could ride that changed, I was exactly as fast I thought I should be, mentally, it all fell into place. I started calling my bike my 'legs,' and never really shifted away from that. Folded up, Scamper is at my fingertips, ready to go from stationary to journey. I don't have to go outside to get my bike, just the front room. I'm not seperated from him no matter the manner of transportation.
I've been tempted by other frames in the past year, those sleek carbon forks, those aluminum frames, and those sturdy bakfiet beauties that grace the trails. Yet the very covetous nature prevents me from seeking one, for if I desire it, than who else also sees it with a cunning eye? Nobody wants to steal Scamper, even left unattended, he's covered in so many bikeindex.org stickers with a #ulockjustice sticker on his u-lock, he looks like the bike of a vengeful rider. Not exactly untrue. And none of those tempting beauties can do what Scamper can do, company and steed, bike and companion.
Even as time goes on, I'm not sure how I could ever part with him. Scamper brought me to the courthouse to marry my best friend, when I got hit by a car, Scamper withstood and supported my shaking hands. Planning an adventure, how else would I go? Glancing at each sticker adorning his frame I can recall the scratch beneath, or the circumstances of acquisition. Its only been two years, but a lifetime of riding squeezed itself in. Perhaps one day I will need another bike, or Scamper might, (knock on wood) someday be put out of commission.
Until that day, and probably even after, I'll be a folding filly. Maybe we're not the fastest ride on the rode, well, definitely we are not, but no matter the distance and the hills, we arrive.
Sunday, December 11, 2016
How #Bikeschool Saved Christmas
Frost, on the Morning before Christmas day,
Caused huge cracks in Santa's red sleigh
And all eight reindeer came down with a cough
Including the glowing, sweet Rudolph!
Though presents were ready for the the good girls and boys
The disaster was huge, causing great noise
An elf named Martha knew what to do,
her plan would save Christmas, and help Santa too
Out of the workshop came a cargo recumbent bike,
Made by a helpful elf named Mike
"What's this?" asked Santa in dismay
"Its is," said Martha, "Your brand new sleigh,"
Santa looked at his belly in sorrow,
"There's no way I can ride this tomorrow,"
"Don't worry," said Jennifer, one of the elves,
"We have bikes too, to help you ourselves,"
Out of the workshop burst the others,
so many elven sisters and brothers
Two elves came to make the bikes dandy,
I think their names are Rob and Randy,
Santa agreed to give it a try, a test flight
he had to make sure things would go right
Santa found a different magic in his ride,
up he pedaled, so fast, with pride
"Ho ho ho," he laughed so jolly
"this is faster than reindeer, prolly,"
Santa chose his best elves to help pull
In his judgment he was no fool
"On Carrie, on Maratha, on Keith,
"On Lizbon, on Michelle, on Smith,
Lead on Madi and Darrell,"
Across the globe these brave riders flew
delivering toys, but also bikes too
For Santa wanted joy in every heart
and he knew bikes would play a big part
A Christmas miracle nobody foresaw
cars abandoned in the sudden thaw
Dr. Velocipede said Santa shed many a pound
And a sleeker Santa could not be found
Fat bikes bounded through the snow
and every face was all aglow
Through the world rang the cheer
"We should ride every day, all year!"
Back at the workshop it was clear
to reward the elves with tacos and beer!
Out of every Christmas saved, so cool
This one was saved by #bikeschool
A Christmas miracle nobody foresaw
cars abandoned in the sudden thaw
Dr. Velocipede said Santa shed many a pound
And a sleeker Santa could not be found
Fat bikes bounded through the snow
and every face was all aglow
Through the world rang the cheer
"We should ride every day, all year!"
Back at the workshop it was clear
to reward the elves with tacos and beer!
Out of every Christmas saved, so cool
This one was saved by #bikeschool
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
Your safety, my safety, and the ghost bike between us
I learned to ride in the land of the midnight sun. Up north kids are given the basics of how to physically ride a bike, but the real how is never really taught. It's something you learn. I didn't learn "urban cycling," or "street cycling," or whatever the going term for riding in the streets is these days. We rode on the sidewalk, and if there was none available, we rode in the street in the direction of oncoming traffic.
There were a lot of sidewalks, trails, and pathways in the land where I grew up. Children rarely if ever wore helmets. I certainly didn't until I became an adult. Those who grew up riding knew to watch for riders and pedestrians who grew up under these rules. And I didn't see a ghost bike until I became an adult. Back then, we didn't have ghost bikes, though many memorials to those slain by drunk drivers could be found on virtually any major thoroughfare. We did not fear cars striking us down, we feared moose, and knew no helmet would protect us from the wild animals which wandered on a whim through the town.
Helmets were for kids from the "lower 48," or "military brats," "snow goslings," and the like. Not for us. We knew were were more likely to die from leukemia, a drunk driver, or a moose. We wore lights in the winter if we were ambitious, but most of us settled for reflective striping on our clothes. It might be the land of the midnight sun, but it was also the land where night ruled 3/4ths of the year. Yet, we didn't decorate ourselves in anything more than reflective stripes, or duct tape for the poorer families.
And while we didn't have helmets, lights, and cell phones, by in large, what we did have is something I believe more valuable to us than all of that.
We knew about death. We knew it happened to all of us, that it could strike at any time. We did not shy away from talking about it to children, nor did we children shun the knowledge that we were vulnerable, squishy, and ultimately, very mortal. By the time an Alaskan child is 10, she has probably attended three or four funerals. By the time an Alaskan child is 15, they have probably buried five or six of their friends. We don't just know that death happens to us, we know how the living carry the dead with them through all the end of their days.
Most children up north get their driver's licence as soon as humanly possible. A car is a warm form of transportation, a lifeline to the hospital on dark lifeless nights, and usually how water will be transported to their home. Many consider the car essential, those who don't, consider having dogs essential.
I fell more into the latter camp than the former myself. I survived happily with my dogs and my bike for many years in the far north. However, even I became weary of such a life, and left for "civilization,"
Here in civilization, you can pass other cars on the right. This would get you arrested where I come from. Walking against traffic is called "salmoning," and its no wonder most never see their death coming, since it comes up behind them. Here there are few sidewalks that are not in such disrepair you can barely traverse without tripping. Here, in "civilization," I encountered my first ghost bike.
Oh I'd seen memorials for the dead in my town, white crosses and a bouquet to mark where a life was taken, but they were mostly for those killed by drunks, or by ice. Here, in civilization its unlikely ice will kill you. but the odds of a drunk doing it are comparable. We had people die on their bikes, some killed by drunks, others by moose, but not because of street tracks, not because infrastructure fundamental failed them, (at least not more or less than it does cars, pot holes caused by permafrost are the bane of all).
In civilization you will probably never know the person who the ghost bike stands for, up north, you knew, you knew either the family or the friends of the person whose last mark on the earth was a little white cross.
The north gave me the knowledge of personal loss, and no helmet protects you better than this, for a personal knowledge never lets you be fooled into thinking you've done everything and now you are safe. It weighs more than a helmet, and can never be taken off. The knowledge of personal loss tells you your safety is always in the hands of others, and that you are responsible, not for your own safety, but for those around you. The knowledge of personal loss tells me everyday that it could be me, that I can never pretend that ghost bikes happen to others. The knowledge of personal loss reminds me that any ride can be my last, and forces me to ride for those who can no longer; it is the bitter taint to my personal miracle.
I put my helmet on knowing it protects me from many things; victim shaming, cops stopping me randomly, or a random piece of airplane falling out of the sky, and that's about it.
Its not magic.
If a two ton truck hits me, that will be all she wrote because I'm not getting up from that, helmet or no helmet. If a semi-truck mows me down no helmet will protect me. If a car comes up behind me and slams me, its just as doubtful I will survive that either. I can't count on being lucky. I can't count on magic colours or talismans.
I'm counting on you.
I'm trusting you to not hook me with a right on red. I'm trusting you to stop at the light and not "gun" it at the last minute.I'm trusting you to stay three feet to the left when passing me, and not hook me with your mirror. I'm trusting you to put down your cell phone. I'm trusting you with my safety.
Because you trust me with yours.
There were a lot of sidewalks, trails, and pathways in the land where I grew up. Children rarely if ever wore helmets. I certainly didn't until I became an adult. Those who grew up riding knew to watch for riders and pedestrians who grew up under these rules. And I didn't see a ghost bike until I became an adult. Back then, we didn't have ghost bikes, though many memorials to those slain by drunk drivers could be found on virtually any major thoroughfare. We did not fear cars striking us down, we feared moose, and knew no helmet would protect us from the wild animals which wandered on a whim through the town.
Helmets were for kids from the "lower 48," or "military brats," "snow goslings," and the like. Not for us. We knew were were more likely to die from leukemia, a drunk driver, or a moose. We wore lights in the winter if we were ambitious, but most of us settled for reflective striping on our clothes. It might be the land of the midnight sun, but it was also the land where night ruled 3/4ths of the year. Yet, we didn't decorate ourselves in anything more than reflective stripes, or duct tape for the poorer families.
And while we didn't have helmets, lights, and cell phones, by in large, what we did have is something I believe more valuable to us than all of that.
We knew about death. We knew it happened to all of us, that it could strike at any time. We did not shy away from talking about it to children, nor did we children shun the knowledge that we were vulnerable, squishy, and ultimately, very mortal. By the time an Alaskan child is 10, she has probably attended three or four funerals. By the time an Alaskan child is 15, they have probably buried five or six of their friends. We don't just know that death happens to us, we know how the living carry the dead with them through all the end of their days.
Most children up north get their driver's licence as soon as humanly possible. A car is a warm form of transportation, a lifeline to the hospital on dark lifeless nights, and usually how water will be transported to their home. Many consider the car essential, those who don't, consider having dogs essential.
I fell more into the latter camp than the former myself. I survived happily with my dogs and my bike for many years in the far north. However, even I became weary of such a life, and left for "civilization,"
Here in civilization, you can pass other cars on the right. This would get you arrested where I come from. Walking against traffic is called "salmoning," and its no wonder most never see their death coming, since it comes up behind them. Here there are few sidewalks that are not in such disrepair you can barely traverse without tripping. Here, in "civilization," I encountered my first ghost bike.
Oh I'd seen memorials for the dead in my town, white crosses and a bouquet to mark where a life was taken, but they were mostly for those killed by drunks, or by ice. Here, in civilization its unlikely ice will kill you. but the odds of a drunk doing it are comparable. We had people die on their bikes, some killed by drunks, others by moose, but not because of street tracks, not because infrastructure fundamental failed them, (at least not more or less than it does cars, pot holes caused by permafrost are the bane of all).
In civilization you will probably never know the person who the ghost bike stands for, up north, you knew, you knew either the family or the friends of the person whose last mark on the earth was a little white cross.
The north gave me the knowledge of personal loss, and no helmet protects you better than this, for a personal knowledge never lets you be fooled into thinking you've done everything and now you are safe. It weighs more than a helmet, and can never be taken off. The knowledge of personal loss tells you your safety is always in the hands of others, and that you are responsible, not for your own safety, but for those around you. The knowledge of personal loss tells me everyday that it could be me, that I can never pretend that ghost bikes happen to others. The knowledge of personal loss reminds me that any ride can be my last, and forces me to ride for those who can no longer; it is the bitter taint to my personal miracle.
I put my helmet on knowing it protects me from many things; victim shaming, cops stopping me randomly, or a random piece of airplane falling out of the sky, and that's about it.
Its not magic.
If a two ton truck hits me, that will be all she wrote because I'm not getting up from that, helmet or no helmet. If a semi-truck mows me down no helmet will protect me. If a car comes up behind me and slams me, its just as doubtful I will survive that either. I can't count on being lucky. I can't count on magic colours or talismans.
I'm counting on you.
I'm trusting you to not hook me with a right on red. I'm trusting you to stop at the light and not "gun" it at the last minute.I'm trusting you to stay three feet to the left when passing me, and not hook me with your mirror. I'm trusting you to put down your cell phone. I'm trusting you with my safety.
Because you trust me with yours.
Monday, April 11, 2016
30 Days of BOOM!
The Greenwood explosion is becoming a memory, as the community heals some things will never be the same, other things will be there, but not in the same way. Much to everyone's, not just myself I swear, G&O Family Cyclery will be opening a temporary location just a wee bit north of where they were before (the address will be 8554 1/2 Greenwood Ave N, Seattle, WA 98103), so its no hardship if you regularly ride your bike to the shop. As of yet they are not open, so please watch their blog, Twitter, and Facebook for updates.
Sadly, I wasn't able to get Scamper back, and up and running, in time for this year's #30Daysof Biking. I had debated a LOT about whether or not I was going to do it this year. On the one hand, it does support a great cause. On the other had I already ride my bike pretty much every day. It was one of the problems I had last year, which was a lot of biking up and down the driveway to be honest. You see, I don't own a car, and I rely a lot on my bike, with public transit bridging the gap left. So if I don't have to go anywhere one day, I'm not going to invent an excuse to go for a ride, nor make my probably-hurting-body go someplace it doesn't want to go. After all, 30 Days is about the joy, not a punishment. But with the addition of supporting the World Bicycle Relief Fund I had considered doing it again this year.
I also missed out fulfilling my literal dream of biking on the freeway. It broke my little heart quite sincerely, as I have dreamed of this since I first rode Seattle's freeways. And, rhetorical aside, isn't the moniker "freeway," ironic since it is neither free to build, nor does it connect, in fact, it usually divides neighborhoods, puts up walls, and indentures us to the fossil fuel method. However, Scamper's mishap on the Georgetown train tracks, followed by being in an explosion, and then the epic day of washing, did have one or two positive effects.
For one, I don't really care for Barry, (my husband's bike), with all respect, he's just a big boy. I thought it wouldn't be an issue since both our bikes are very adjustable, but my poor knees disagree. So much for making my back up bike a Miami. But it made me aware of just how much I put into making Scamper shine. Sure he's got a lot of stickers, but each one is a story, his stickers are his tattoos, and every dent I hammer out of his fenders, a hit he took for me.
Secondly, it made me rethink what bike events and challenges I want to do. If Scamper had been operational, I probably WOULD have done 30days, and that would be a shame, because regularly joyful riders are probably the only ones who don't need to participate.
Also, it's made me eager as hell to be out on my bike. A Trader Joe's opened by my home, but too far to walk, though I guess I could walk to transit. However, I despise having my shopping on a schedule. or pushing a clerk to make a faster check out so I don't miss the bus. So we waited. A new pet supply store opened. We waited. We needed to go to other stores to grab other things. We waited. (You can see why, even though I really wanted to wait and go to the temp location for G&O this wasn't really feasible).
This brings me to the last positive thing to come out of the mess. I recall, some time ago, Critical Lass ended their ride at R+E Cycles, which had this amazing bike rack out front showing how many bikes could fit in a car slot. I was reluctant to take Scamper just anywhere, not just because he's a folding bike, but I want to support local bike shops that are inclusive and foster the kind of cycling culture I want to see carry forward. From what I could vaguely remember (be fair, there was some really good beer) the people were nice, so after a brief call I took a freshly scrubbed Scamper down to see if they could help. Not only were they able to get him back up and functioning, but they stuck around until I could get back down to get him. They understood that Scamper wasn't just a bike, he's my independence, my freedom, and without him, I'm goddamn SOL.
Its not everyday you find a great bike shop, especially not when your local one has been exploded. Having a chance to go back and get to know the folks at R+E was the bit of silver lining I needed to this cloud.
And so my friends, I am back in the saddle. Right where I belong.
Sadly, I wasn't able to get Scamper back, and up and running, in time for this year's #30Daysof Biking. I had debated a LOT about whether or not I was going to do it this year. On the one hand, it does support a great cause. On the other had I already ride my bike pretty much every day. It was one of the problems I had last year, which was a lot of biking up and down the driveway to be honest. You see, I don't own a car, and I rely a lot on my bike, with public transit bridging the gap left. So if I don't have to go anywhere one day, I'm not going to invent an excuse to go for a ride, nor make my probably-hurting-body go someplace it doesn't want to go. After all, 30 Days is about the joy, not a punishment. But with the addition of supporting the World Bicycle Relief Fund I had considered doing it again this year.
I also missed out fulfilling my literal dream of biking on the freeway. It broke my little heart quite sincerely, as I have dreamed of this since I first rode Seattle's freeways. And, rhetorical aside, isn't the moniker "freeway," ironic since it is neither free to build, nor does it connect, in fact, it usually divides neighborhoods, puts up walls, and indentures us to the fossil fuel method. However, Scamper's mishap on the Georgetown train tracks, followed by being in an explosion, and then the epic day of washing, did have one or two positive effects.
For one, I don't really care for Barry, (my husband's bike), with all respect, he's just a big boy. I thought it wouldn't be an issue since both our bikes are very adjustable, but my poor knees disagree. So much for making my back up bike a Miami. But it made me aware of just how much I put into making Scamper shine. Sure he's got a lot of stickers, but each one is a story, his stickers are his tattoos, and every dent I hammer out of his fenders, a hit he took for me.
Secondly, it made me rethink what bike events and challenges I want to do. If Scamper had been operational, I probably WOULD have done 30days, and that would be a shame, because regularly joyful riders are probably the only ones who don't need to participate.
Also, it's made me eager as hell to be out on my bike. A Trader Joe's opened by my home, but too far to walk, though I guess I could walk to transit. However, I despise having my shopping on a schedule. or pushing a clerk to make a faster check out so I don't miss the bus. So we waited. A new pet supply store opened. We waited. We needed to go to other stores to grab other things. We waited. (You can see why, even though I really wanted to wait and go to the temp location for G&O this wasn't really feasible).
This brings me to the last positive thing to come out of the mess. I recall, some time ago, Critical Lass ended their ride at R+E Cycles, which had this amazing bike rack out front showing how many bikes could fit in a car slot. I was reluctant to take Scamper just anywhere, not just because he's a folding bike, but I want to support local bike shops that are inclusive and foster the kind of cycling culture I want to see carry forward. From what I could vaguely remember (be fair, there was some really good beer) the people were nice, so after a brief call I took a freshly scrubbed Scamper down to see if they could help. Not only were they able to get him back up and functioning, but they stuck around until I could get back down to get him. They understood that Scamper wasn't just a bike, he's my independence, my freedom, and without him, I'm goddamn SOL.
Its not everyday you find a great bike shop, especially not when your local one has been exploded. Having a chance to go back and get to know the folks at R+E was the bit of silver lining I needed to this cloud.
And so my friends, I am back in the saddle. Right where I belong.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Everywhere You Go, You Always Take The Weather With You
I've been rethinking the term "fair-weather cyclists," it gets thrown around a lot to refer to people, and lets be honest, most are inferring women in the idea, who only bike when the weather is "nice," usually defined by sunny skies. Weather is something we all deal with, whether we acknowledge climate change or not, seasonal changes are something that every cyclist faces. I know someone who is literally allergic to the cold. Is it fair to ask this person to bike in December? or wait a prolonged period outdoors for a bus?
The weather is never "fair" in my opinion. Fairness is derived from human action, it is a gift we give by our cognoscente capacities. We can discern when a situation is fair or unfair, usually by its negative in that some situation is "unfair," but we never apply this beyond, merely the word.
Is it "fair" to have me cycle in the sun? I am quite allergic to the opposite conditions applied to the other person. I can never do a century ride simply because the sunlight exposure would do me irreparable injury it would not cause another. To another the weather is "fair" because it is "nice" and thus, I am a "poor weather cyclist," simply because that is the condition in which the skies are favorable to myself.
But as cyclists do we recognize that the terms we are using are somewhat misapplied? Regular cyclists sigh as the summer months make finding decent parking a challenge. Those who would never lock their bike to a sign find themselves with no other option. There is also the propensity to blame the "fair weather cyclist," for their inconsistency that perpetuates the idea there is usually enough parking for cyclists. The whether or not is comfortable to ride has shifted with the weather, but we usually focus on the wrong one.
It is unfair to ask others to cycle when its either uncomfortable for them, or downright impossible. We focus to much on the 'whether or not' conditions rather than the 'weather is not' conditions. We look at bike lanes unused and think its the 'whether' conditions, not that the bike lane is flooded and uncomfortable for even the hardy cyclist, and thus a 'weather' condition.
We need to look at whether it is safe to ride, comfortable to ride, yes, but we also need to consider weathers impact on those same questions. We need to accept that some people will never be able to ride, we need to accept that the conditions that make it acceptable for one person to ride will make it harder for another. And we need to take "fair" out of weather altogether.
The weather will never be 'fair' or 'unfair' but we can give the weather fairness. Proper drainage and bike lane maintenance would be a fantastic start.
The weather is never "fair" in my opinion. Fairness is derived from human action, it is a gift we give by our cognoscente capacities. We can discern when a situation is fair or unfair, usually by its negative in that some situation is "unfair," but we never apply this beyond, merely the word.
Is it "fair" to have me cycle in the sun? I am quite allergic to the opposite conditions applied to the other person. I can never do a century ride simply because the sunlight exposure would do me irreparable injury it would not cause another. To another the weather is "fair" because it is "nice" and thus, I am a "poor weather cyclist," simply because that is the condition in which the skies are favorable to myself.
But as cyclists do we recognize that the terms we are using are somewhat misapplied? Regular cyclists sigh as the summer months make finding decent parking a challenge. Those who would never lock their bike to a sign find themselves with no other option. There is also the propensity to blame the "fair weather cyclist," for their inconsistency that perpetuates the idea there is usually enough parking for cyclists. The whether or not is comfortable to ride has shifted with the weather, but we usually focus on the wrong one.
It is unfair to ask others to cycle when its either uncomfortable for them, or downright impossible. We focus to much on the 'whether or not' conditions rather than the 'weather is not' conditions. We look at bike lanes unused and think its the 'whether' conditions, not that the bike lane is flooded and uncomfortable for even the hardy cyclist, and thus a 'weather' condition.
We need to look at whether it is safe to ride, comfortable to ride, yes, but we also need to consider weathers impact on those same questions. We need to accept that some people will never be able to ride, we need to accept that the conditions that make it acceptable for one person to ride will make it harder for another. And we need to take "fair" out of weather altogether.
The weather will never be 'fair' or 'unfair' but we can give the weather fairness. Proper drainage and bike lane maintenance would be a fantastic start.
Thursday, November 12, 2015
The Last Coffeeneuring Trip of 2015
Well, the last in the official challenge anyway. On November 8th, Sunday, we set out for the final coffeeneuring trip for the challenge. For the last of the funky socks I picked a pair my family gave me before I left Alaska:
The new cycle path had been installed, and south bound it was quite nice, then evaporates at about 103rd st., whereupon you end up back in the dooring zone. I've described what its like to climb Mt. Roosevelt before as part of my commute, this time we went all the way up to the Maple Leaf area to Cloud City Coffee . At first we thought there was no bike rack, but lo and behold, once you got around the crammed parking lot, there was a railing.
The weather had cleared so I didn't bother wearing my galoshes, but I still wore my cape since it makes a rather nice wind breaker. The trip there was only 4.5 miles (a round trip total of 9 miles), and while it had been raining earlier, the late afternoon glow gave the air a magical quality. We opted to take the south bound 1st Ave over Meridian Ave as it is a more direct path to the 3rd Ave drop to 116th, which, of course, leads to Roosevelt Way. You would think with a retirement complex, two parks, two churches, & two schools, 1st Ave would be a very calm street. And you would be hilariously wrong. In spite of #VisionZero signage, such as "20 is Plenty" and evidence of residential structures it is consistently treated like a speedway.
After a Handy Andy truck nearly ran me down (the driver decided if he stopped at the stop sign he wouldn't be able to pass me on the bridge, which was very important since he might have to go slower so I could make the turn, for like maybe two whole minutes), I had thought he was going to stop like I had, as he was not at the sign when I had begun my way across, but, haha, nope. Looking back if I had run the stop sign I probably wouldn't have had such a close call. Maybe not, maybe he wouldn't have seen me at all. In any case, my husband and I made it across the treacherous 1st ave cross. It was the same route we used to go to Bark Espresso, only this time we kept going down Roosevelt.The new cycle path had been installed, and south bound it was quite nice, then evaporates at about 103rd st., whereupon you end up back in the dooring zone. I've described what its like to climb Mt. Roosevelt before as part of my commute, this time we went all the way up to the Maple Leaf area to Cloud City Coffee . At first we thought there was no bike rack, but lo and behold, once you got around the crammed parking lot, there was a railing.
| huzzah |
We went inside and was warm and well lit, though the tables were a little too close together for me. I got us both eggnog steamers since it seemed the perfect drink to go with my socks
Sadly, my husband didn't realize steamers were caffeine and would later fall asleep ridiculously early in the evening. I saw a Bike Benefits sticker by the register, which I though odd for a place that just had one railing. We enjoyed our drinks, and the fading day light. I was sad to have the challenge come to an end, but this year was a successes in that I found a truly local coffee shop with a bike rack. As we unlocked to leave we noticed a sticker which made me smile
Riding back down Roosevelt was a treat, for the north bound side the protected cycle track doesn't begin until the bottom of the hill and there's on street parking just before it, making maneuvering into it awkward, and a little nerve racking as you wonder if you're about to get doored. We stopped at the grocery store on the way back, and honestly the protected cycleway makes it difficult to turn left.
Fortunately, I won't have to keep describing this all to you anymore. I'll be able to show you with actual video. You see, I usually spend my Saturday nights after Ben falls asleep, debating different cameras. I have been, for some months, doing this pretty consistently, and have finally bit the bullet and purchased one. Now, it will be some time before I upload anything, (mostly because I haven't ordered it, and partly because this is the first time I'm giving into the impulse to record and upload anything), but I doubt it will be anything like a real channel for some months yet. Ben suggested I run an assassination counter on my rides like a CinemaSins movie counter, but I haven't decided if that's more depressing than funny yet.
Well my friends, another challenge complete. If you haven't checked out this year's patch, you'll be freshly impressed, if you've already seen it, you can admire it again. This year, Doug, also a cofeeneuring rider, designed the patch, and I can't wait to put on my kit.
I had a lot of fun with my funky sock theme, and plan on brainstorming a new theme for next year, maybe coffee stands only, or one flavor across a lot of different kinds of drinks. If you haven't completed the challenge, this weekend is your last shot, good luck!
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Coffeeneuring Ride 6
The final rides are upon us Coffeeneuring riders, and while I'd hoped to squeeze in a trip on Halloween, I just wasn't able to do it and all the other Halloween stuff going on. However, I went on Sunday, still wearing the socks I'd planned.
October is National Bat Appreciation Month, and yes, that's a thing. Bats are very cool, and in spite of an awesome book series and cartoon , still very under-appreciated. Snug in my socks we set off for the Richmond Beach Coffee Co, only 3 miles and a bit, away. It was a cloudy day, with rain on and off. However, in my Cleverhood cape I didn't have a care for the soggy weather. The path we chose had bike lanes, but they were unprotected and very unkempt, and ending in car heavy two lane traffic. Not ideal. The rain had tapered off by the time we arrived, creating a dramatic sun splashed moment worthy of its discovery, for I had found a locally owned coffee shop with a bike rack! For real.
| pics or it didn't happen |
I was feeling elated on the ride back, however an incident happened which I've honestly debated writing about. You see, we got pulled over for not wearing helmets. Its the law here because in spite of a lot of evidence that I've written about before, King County operates under antiqued laws. Shoreline doesn't specifically have laws about it, but because its in King County those laws apply. Now we didn't get ticketed, but here's the thing, if I hadn't been with my husband I might've actually tried to engage the cops in a discussion of the laws they were enforcing because they are the non-violent and nanny state oriented kind of law that is worth discussing.
I didn't.
First, it wouldn't have changed any minds that day, and second, the other things said make me furious enough that I don't feel its right to put this incident under a coffeeneuring post. I will say thanks to certain sidewalk comments I will probably be voting for whoever runs opposing for King County Sheriff, since this department has time to do this, but not get back the four bikes that have been stolen from me. Also, the cop made it sound like we had biked SUPER far from home and just...wow.
We rode the rest of the way home together exchanging sarcastic quips. The whole ride was 6 miles and some change, but the experience is just another reminder that we're a very different kind of people. We're bike people.
Bike party!
Those not native to Seattle might not know of The Bikery, but in the short time its been around its become a fixture to its local community, and an inspiration to others. On October 24th there was a huge fundraising bash to help build a better Bikery, and with an unofficial Critical Lass ride to get there I was totally down for this bike party.
We started at the Freemont Brewing Co., which is one of those super bike friendly businesses
We started at the Freemont Brewing Co., which is one of those super bike friendly businesses
One of my fellow riders recognized my coffeeneuring patch, and we got to chatting about our own trips around town. The ride itself was quite lovely, and I took advantage of the flat and downward nature of the bridge to do one of my longest dragonfly stands on Scamper. Riding under the I-5 was a real treat for myself and Ben as we usually take the Freemont to Dexter than the Eastlake way toward downtown. We promised each other we'd come back and explore it.
The party itself was a blast, and if you check out the photo booth pics, you might see a cyclist you recognize. The track stand contest was a hilarious good time, and each bike parked there was clearly loved by its rider.
Right now there's just six days left to help the Bikery reach its fundraising goal. While the party helped it obviously couldn't go all the way, so if you can, kick a little something toward something great, well, by the basic laws of exchange that would make you great.
Next up is the 6th coffeeneuring write up, its getting close to the end of this year's challenge, but it looks like I really will be finish again, and I know just the funky socks for the finish.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
On the road to nowhere... again
This post is late due to a lot of riding interfering with writing.
I guess its going to be a yearly tradition, wherein I pick coffee places and do not go to them either due to them not existing or because reasons. In my defense, it was hard to establish whether or not I'd be again riding to another non existent place. Also, in dragging someone else with me I had to compromise distance, which meant picking a closer place. However, there are some things I won't compromise on, like whimsy.
Fun fact, ladies who are into My Little Pony are called Pega-sistas. Much like, bronies, only we're inherently magical. And yes, that's a child's zip-up hoodie. Somethings never change. Like my height and tastes. The weather made it perfect to at last give a decent initial test of my new Cleverhood.
I had hoped to do this year without hitting a single Starbucks, not because I have a specific bean to grind, its just as a corporate entity they've created a world where its a fun challenge to find a place they don't own and support it. I'm not saying a corporate coffee shop can't also be a local one, I've just found a boring uniformity that comes with it, along with other reasons that have, frankly, nothing to do with cycling. However, they are a corporation with roots in my location, so going there for coffee is my own way of showing local spirit, since I don't care about the football team that is so adored and equally corporate.
I recalled seeing a shop on my old commute, I never stopped there since there was a coffee shop literally in the parking lot of the previous employer, and stopping on the way there was less convenient than stopping there. Though really, since I've had issues with drive-up stands before I don't know why this didn't occur to me as a solution other than, I really hate stopping in the middle of a ride. So we tried stopping at the Coffee Shack on 15th instead, only they were closed on Sundays. Opting for expediency, we settled on the Starbucks on 15th and 145th. It hadn't changed at all since the last time I'd been there, still no bike rack. However, Barry and Scamper were quite glad to get in out of the wet.
In the end, I counted this trip, because there is something comforting about the familiar, even if, for myself, it breeds contempt, there is something of the symmetry of the fifth one that wasn't a part of the others. The sense of going down 155th and knowing exactly where to lean in the lane to avoid huge bumps and dips (like the one near the Anglican church) that make it more dangerous to ride in the lane than the street.
I guess its going to be a yearly tradition, wherein I pick coffee places and do not go to them either due to them not existing or because reasons. In my defense, it was hard to establish whether or not I'd be again riding to another non existent place. Also, in dragging someone else with me I had to compromise distance, which meant picking a closer place. However, there are some things I won't compromise on, like whimsy.
Yeah, not only am I small enough to wear children's knee high socks, but I rock the Twilight socks. Also, wings.
| Now 20% more awesome |
| Pinkie, Blinkie, and Brownie |
| Corduroy isn't just for teddy bears |
I had hoped to do this year without hitting a single Starbucks, not because I have a specific bean to grind, its just as a corporate entity they've created a world where its a fun challenge to find a place they don't own and support it. I'm not saying a corporate coffee shop can't also be a local one, I've just found a boring uniformity that comes with it, along with other reasons that have, frankly, nothing to do with cycling. However, they are a corporation with roots in my location, so going there for coffee is my own way of showing local spirit, since I don't care about the football team that is so adored and equally corporate.
I recalled seeing a shop on my old commute, I never stopped there since there was a coffee shop literally in the parking lot of the previous employer, and stopping on the way there was less convenient than stopping there. Though really, since I've had issues with drive-up stands before I don't know why this didn't occur to me as a solution other than, I really hate stopping in the middle of a ride. So we tried stopping at the Coffee Shack on 15th instead, only they were closed on Sundays. Opting for expediency, we settled on the Starbucks on 15th and 145th. It hadn't changed at all since the last time I'd been there, still no bike rack. However, Barry and Scamper were quite glad to get in out of the wet.
I opted for a hot chocolate and a pumpkin cream-cheese. As we sat down and I felt a bit morose about it all. It was the fifth coffeeneuring trip I'd made this run, and yet, that made it all the sad for me. Its the stretch of finishing, not beginning. Sure, there'll be posts throughout the year on the Facebook Coffeeneuring page, but I debated whether or not I'd even count this trip, not because it wasn't worthy, but because I could use another weekend. On our way back we stopped at the grocery store across the street, I was out of tea, and yeah, I love the new packaging:
| complete with the quote by H.G. Wells cyclist splatoon everywhere |
Also, the fact I got to wear my cape at last, I mean, the weather has been super cooperative lately but, you notice how you get new gear and then the conditions refuse to line up? Ugh. Anyway, the cape actually took some getting used to, as you might've noticed from the pictures, its a little big on me, which made the initial gripping of my handle bars a bit weird, and the magnetic clasps were a bit hard to get while riding, if you don't get them at the right angle water just pours into the open spot. However, once I got the knack of it I was pretty well set. I ended the ride mildly damp, mostly my legs from the gap between the wellies and the cape, and my hair and face since the hood is made for a helmet, not for someone who puts their hair in a pony tail (pro tip, no hoodie is ever made with the idea you will wear a pony tail, because perky warriors don't wear hoods) so next time I'm probably going to say I'll put my hair in a half tail, but then I'm going to forget and wonder why my hood won't stay up.
The sixth and final coffeeneuring ride will have to wait, since this next post will be covering the Bikery party. I will be doing at least one coffeeneuring this weekend, but I'm not sure if I'll be finishing this weekend or next. But *knock on wood* I will be finishing.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Pack ride to Bark Espresso
I have to admit I'd been hoping it'd be nice enough out today by standard standards to go for a ride. While I enjoy the rain, neither of my usual riding buddies care for a sky full of water, and I picked this spot especially to go to with my buddies. Fortunately the sky had cleared, but not so much as to be cloud free. Since we were going to Bark Espresso I figured these would be the best funky socks, and Mac seemed to agree.
We actually went the way I usually go on my new commute. Cutting down 155th, going up 1st, heading down the turn off into the suburban neighborhood near Roosevelt and Northgate. Its sad because through the whole neighborhood there's signs telling people to slow down for various reasons. The ones near my home are all Vision Zero signs, proclaiming 20 is plenty! Which is largely ignored by everyone capable of going over 20 mph, In the area near Roosevelt and Northgate are remind drivers its a deaf child area, and that they love their pets and children, who by the way, play here. There's all kinds of traffic calming ideas, round-abouts, inset curbs. It doesn't matter, people not only ignore it, they will drive as close as possible to me to pass. Usually having a dog in the back gets people go blink and go "oh hey another person" but today was one of those days where I wondered if my whole little family was going to be wiped out by someone's idiot miscalculation. The three dead squirrels we passed didn't add to my confidence.
Putting the basket on Scamper got Mac into an immediate frenzy. It was pretty warm out, but I decided on the flannel blanket, just in case, and it is a bit chilly going downhill.
| the jaunty kerchief is just because |
We hit Roosevelt and to our surprise there was work being done for the bike lane there. We rolled up to the coffee shop, and yeah, because it was on Roosevelt, I sort of expected there to be a bike rack somewhere. To my surprise there was no rack to be found. At all. There was a handicap railing, but I wasn't going to lock up to that (it would block the ramp).
We elected to lean them against the outside walk railing. Well, after I got a nice shot of Barry on his first coffeeneauring ride. Pinkie sat this one out, but even with Mac strapped to Scamper, I had to moderate my pace so I didn't drop him. The coffee place is actually a set of shops, sort of a pet center of sorts. We only went into the coffee side. As you can see in the above left picture there's a second door, that's the Hound Lounge, where you can go in with your dog. It was nice, with dog art on the walls, prints stacked on the side, and a few tables. It would've been a lovely place to sit, but we decided it was too nice outside to bother with bringing the bikes in, preferring to make use of the outside tables.
While Ben got coffee, I got a pumpkin steamer, and we shared a couple of breakfast sandwiches, making it a sort of brunch. Mac had a peanut doggy latte. We watched the other people and dogs come and go. I have to say my steamer was a bit watery (oh goddess I sound like a snob, but if you don't use whole milk it ends up that way), but nicely spiced. We stopped by another shop on the way back, and at the intersection, both bike and dog were admired greatly. A group of nice folks wanted to know why I rode a folding bike, how old was my dog, and did I know how just amazingly cute he is with that kerchief? (I totally do know and that's why). The usual, out biking with my dog stuff, except when they told me they didn't see many people out with there dogs. I feel I see a lot of people out biking with there dogs, maybe that's because of all the bike blogs I read. It does tend to make me feel like the things I do are totally normal. Making our way back we decided to stop at the Doughnut Plains, its a nice place to take a break.
All and all the trip was about 6.5 miles, Not bad. We might've added a bit of blacktop to our ride since we took a hook from 1st to Meridian. It was such a lovely ride, Aside from the cars and the road kill, and the sharrows that did absolutely nothing for traffic calming. Although we did have a funny moment when the car next to me at one intersection had a little dog too. Ben thought it was funny I've gone to 4 shops and only 1 had a bike rack, and that one was kind of an anit rack at that. Still, I've got three shops left so my odds are good one of them will have bike parking. Right? Next stop is Chickalatte, no matter the weather.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
A sunny ride to Kaffeklatsch
The sun came back out this Sunday, shining bright upon bike lanes filled with storm debris. Feeling up to snuff today, I set out on a much further route, this one 7.6 miles, to Kaffeklatsch Seattle in Lake City. I don't enjoy riding to Lake City, and lately I've had no call to venture to the northern most aspects of Seattle. The bike lanes there are sketchy at best and confusing at worst. Also, the south bound sidewalk along Lake City Way contains some of the worst pavement you'll find. I would've taken pictures, but unfortunately didn't have the opportunity to do so without putting a pedestrian out.
Getting ahead of myself a bit, first, I donned this ride's funky socks, my Hemmingway Kitty Socks
Because five toes. Get it?
Anyway! Ben came with me this time, riding Pinkie Pie. The bike lanes were still full of Seattle tumbleweeds, and there was a dead squirrel on the sidewalk along 155th. Nothing like a reminder of life's fleeting nature to add a bit of zest to your early morning ride. The ride itself was the usual amount of suburban streets and bike lanes, until hitting the main thoroughfares like 15th ave NE and Lake City way NE. Frankly Lake City way was so harrowing to ride in the street we attempted to ride on the sidewalks. This was a horrible error as the sidewalks formed platforms that, while as a child I would've loved to jump, created a horrible situation in terms of passage.
Arriving at Kaffeeklatsch Seattle we were pleased to note they had a bike rack installed. Then Ben went to lock Pinkie Pie to it, and things got hilarious. I did park Scamper outside, but retrospectively I wonder if it wasn't less a bike rack and more a memorial rack.| Antithetical to its creation |
Kaffeeklatsch was very much part bakery part coffee shop, with decor that seemed fairly normal until you noticed the evil carnival monkey staring at you, absorbing your soul as you wait in line.
| Charming! |
| Fuel |
We stopped for groceries on the way back, having put it off yesterday because of the stormy weather. One of the nicest things about fall is the variety of apples it brings, you go from having a selection of say, four or five different kinds, to six to eight. Right now I'm favoring the ambrosia, its like how I always wanted a green apple to taste like.
Well coffeeneuring ride number 3 is done. Next stop is Bark Espresso, which I have to admit I'm looking forward to since it means riding to a place I know my dog will be welcome.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Coffeeneuring trip #2 - Return to Cafe Aroma
On a stormy Saturday, when really I wasn't at my best, I set out, undaunted by the rain, though somewhat dismayed by other happenstance, to return to Cafe Aroma. It was a good choice because it is the closest of all the challenge spots, just a cruise down Meridian, a jaunt up 155th, and a meander further north on 5th. Though it is the closest of all the coffeeneuring locations I've picked, I haven't gone again because well.. parking. But I wanted someplace close because I hadn't been feeling well and the rain and wind had created some soggy circumstances.
The rain had somewhat abated when I set out on my sojourn, socks for the theme matching my earrings put me in a spooky mood.
The weather made it a perfect opportunity to test my new boots. Previously, I had awesome zebra stripped knee high galoshes, though visually appealing they were rather standard fare. Neither particularly warm, nor particularly sturdy, and frankly annoying to ride in, owing to the movement of my calf muscles. I have mighty calves that yield not to the flimsy rubber of man! Wanting, however, one pair of boots that would function both on and off the bike I debated at length the solution that works best for myself. Deciding I needed something that gave adequate coverage, would not hinder my movement, yet would keep my toes snug against the biting gale winds. And, if possible, not terribly ugly. Behold!
They come only halfway up my comically short shins, and on a walk with the dog, proved adequate for puddle muddling. Now came the real test, if I could use them in the majority of my mobility. I'm pleased to say that it worked out rather well, the faux fur made it quite warm. With Alistair Mook strumming in my headphones, I slowly made my sojourn.
The rain had somewhat abated when I set out on my sojourn, socks for the theme matching my earrings put me in a spooky mood.
The weather made it a perfect opportunity to test my new boots. Previously, I had awesome zebra stripped knee high galoshes, though visually appealing they were rather standard fare. Neither particularly warm, nor particularly sturdy, and frankly annoying to ride in, owing to the movement of my calf muscles. I have mighty calves that yield not to the flimsy rubber of man! Wanting, however, one pair of boots that would function both on and off the bike I debated at length the solution that works best for myself. Deciding I needed something that gave adequate coverage, would not hinder my movement, yet would keep my toes snug against the biting gale winds. And, if possible, not terribly ugly. Behold!
| olive masterpiece right there |
Cafe Aroma still had the same vibe as last year, the neighborhood coffee shop. I sat across from the window, occasionally looking up from my book as families passed on their way to the Crest Cinema.
I sipped my pumpkin pie steamer, content to let the storm drip out what seemed the worst before starting back. A slight miscalculation, the rain had stopped, but the wind chose to pick up. The ride back became a battle against the elements that I did not feel up to fighting, though a slight tail wind on the Meridian turn around did give some cheer.
All in all not a bad ride, just a typical damp and windy one. Well, ride two is down, and next is Kaffeeklatsch Seattle, which is really in Lake City, which I haven't figured out yet if its like Shoreline and technically not Seattle. Besides, I included Lake City last year and it'd be a shame to leave them out.
Saturday, October 3, 2015
And so it begins!
Its the first weekend of coffeeneuring and the clear blue skies call every cyclist, participating or not, to sample the asphalt one last time before it becomes part river, part roadway. At least, here in the Pacific Northwest. I recall the same sweet call back North, before the snow completely buried the pavement.
For my first cofffeeneuring trip I put on the socks I'd been eager to don, I think every female cyclist has this pair at this point:
Theme firmly beneath my personal firmament, we began our ride. As Barry is still down for repairs, Ben rode Pinkie Pie, not his favorite ride, but sill nice she got to come along again for the first trip since she was my ride last year. One Cup is close to our home, making the whole trip 2.2 miles, though we probably could've extended it, or made it even shorter, but we went through the residential streets instead of doing a straight shot to Aurora. Besides, I love riding down 165th and riding the gap between speed humps. Its fun because cars will try to speed up to pass you, but then they have to break on the hump while you cruise through. Exceedingly satisfying.
Sadly, we did have to go down Aurora eventually, and I denote it as sadly because Ben always points out that "they ruined the Main Street of this town by making it a highway," and he's right, but its sad, and seeing it sad. Ugh. On the curious side, the Uber garage is right next to the Uhaul, which is right next to a car dealership, which is right by a motorcycle shop. The insane level of car-centric shops right next to homes is just... Well I digress, but its just so symptomatic of the street, and that shapes Aurora into the sort of place that encourages it into the sort of place that every store along it requires a key for the bathroom. Where I'm from that's just the prerogative of gas stations.
We arrived at One Cup and I have to admit I was hopeful, I mean it did appear to be a very coffeeesque place
But alas, it had no bike rack. In spite of clearly catering to the college crowd it had a fucking railing as an excuse for a parking spot. Naturally I just folding Scamper and took him inside as Ben lashed Pinkie to the railing at the end of the handicap ramp of the church. Because its Shoreline, so of course its a coffee shop connected to a church.
The set up inside was the perfect storm of Northwest awkward. Lots of bar stool seats and communal tables, big leather chairs all set close to each other, and a kids table off in a corner away from anyone trying to study, but without a spot for their adult to hover nearby. We ordered our drinks, coffee for him, hot chocolate for me, and after picking a suitable spot, placed Scamper by the table.
For my first cofffeeneuring trip I put on the socks I'd been eager to don, I think every female cyclist has this pair at this point:
Theme firmly beneath my personal firmament, we began our ride. As Barry is still down for repairs, Ben rode Pinkie Pie, not his favorite ride, but sill nice she got to come along again for the first trip since she was my ride last year. One Cup is close to our home, making the whole trip 2.2 miles, though we probably could've extended it, or made it even shorter, but we went through the residential streets instead of doing a straight shot to Aurora. Besides, I love riding down 165th and riding the gap between speed humps. Its fun because cars will try to speed up to pass you, but then they have to break on the hump while you cruise through. Exceedingly satisfying.
Sadly, we did have to go down Aurora eventually, and I denote it as sadly because Ben always points out that "they ruined the Main Street of this town by making it a highway," and he's right, but its sad, and seeing it sad. Ugh. On the curious side, the Uber garage is right next to the Uhaul, which is right next to a car dealership, which is right by a motorcycle shop. The insane level of car-centric shops right next to homes is just... Well I digress, but its just so symptomatic of the street, and that shapes Aurora into the sort of place that encourages it into the sort of place that every store along it requires a key for the bathroom. Where I'm from that's just the prerogative of gas stations.
We arrived at One Cup and I have to admit I was hopeful, I mean it did appear to be a very coffeeesque place
| note the car dealership nearby |
The set up inside was the perfect storm of Northwest awkward. Lots of bar stool seats and communal tables, big leather chairs all set close to each other, and a kids table off in a corner away from anyone trying to study, but without a spot for their adult to hover nearby. We ordered our drinks, coffee for him, hot chocolate for me, and after picking a suitable spot, placed Scamper by the table.
There was wifi, but it wasn't issued with the receipt, which seriously, who doesn't give you your change and tell you the wifi password? Places that have it posted by the drink pickup, right? Not here. No parking, no wifi. How was the hot coco?
Meh. I mean it wasn't bad but foam for a hot coco? I uh, I guess I'm used to whip cream or such. It was quite creamy, so I'll classify it as "okay," or at least something warm to sip while I looked around.
Finding neither the drink nor the decor had much to offer I debated whether or not I would come back. I supposed perhaps, if I was with other people who were stopping there, but not of my own volition. Overall, I'd rate the place a C- if you're a cyclist. I mean, don't get me wrong, its Shoreline, so its not like they'll put in a rack. I bet, much like the Coffee & Pub place the Bounty, they'll be satisfied with people locking up on railings. Bully for them, but I'll take my business elsewhere. While its a pretty nice ride, the ride does not the destination make.
Speaking of elsewheres and destinations, I'll be snarkily sipping at Cafe Aroma next. Cheers!
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Coffeeneuring 2015!
Its that time again! Wow, the year has flown by, and already its time to get that fall maintenance over and done with so coffeeneuring can begin. For those of you who've never heard of it it goes something like this; you bike a total of two miles, consume a warm drink, write about/take a picture of it, and you do it at least once a weekend for seven weekends. That's the basic gist of it. There is, of course, a bit more to it, so check out the Official 2015 page to learn about it and get started.
Of course I've already picked out which spots I'll be heading to this year, as well as back-up-places in case a grand fail like last year's spectacular laughable case, wherein I hunted down two shops before I settled on one without walls. I picked out the spots back in September because, in spite of factors that limit my own caffeine consumption, its just so much fun. Don't worry, if you have caffeine limits too there's plenty of other options, (tea, cider, hot coco, etc). As for myself, its probably going to be a lot of decaf tea and steamers, but really, its about continuing my quest.
I still haven't found a coffee place like the ones I had back North. I was, though by no means monogamous, fond of the places where I partook of the sweet black nectar. In spite of seven attempts last year I was unable to find that special place for me. That one shop that I'd go to at least two time a month, not because I can't make my own coffee, but because that's where I enjoy going. Though to be fair, I have found my favorite yogurt stand, which is pretty good, but I digress.
This year I continue my quest! That noble pursuit of any writer worth her salt. Not the completion of some grand work, no, the true core of any writer is seeking a coffee house where they both add a certain atmosphere, and really take up that one sweet table spot for like, way to long. On top of which, as a cyclist, I really ought to be ashamed I haven't found a good spot. I mean, honestly, I ride all over the place, I'm pretty sure I've been down most of the streets of Seattle on Scamper. I just rarely ever stop. I mean, yes I stop to rest myself on occasion, but I've been far to focused on forests to be hunting any haunts.
Though speaking of Scamper, this will be his first year as a coffeeneuring bike. Pinkie Pie is actually back in use by my husband since Barry is down for repairs. Therefore, its up to scrappy little Scamper to pick flag.
Without further ado, here are the coffeeneuring shops I've picked:
Of course I've already picked out which spots I'll be heading to this year, as well as back-up-places in case a grand fail like last year's spectacular laughable case, wherein I hunted down two shops before I settled on one without walls. I picked out the spots back in September because, in spite of factors that limit my own caffeine consumption, its just so much fun. Don't worry, if you have caffeine limits too there's plenty of other options, (tea, cider, hot coco, etc). As for myself, its probably going to be a lot of decaf tea and steamers, but really, its about continuing my quest.
I still haven't found a coffee place like the ones I had back North. I was, though by no means monogamous, fond of the places where I partook of the sweet black nectar. In spite of seven attempts last year I was unable to find that special place for me. That one shop that I'd go to at least two time a month, not because I can't make my own coffee, but because that's where I enjoy going. Though to be fair, I have found my favorite yogurt stand, which is pretty good, but I digress.
This year I continue my quest! That noble pursuit of any writer worth her salt. Not the completion of some grand work, no, the true core of any writer is seeking a coffee house where they both add a certain atmosphere, and really take up that one sweet table spot for like, way to long. On top of which, as a cyclist, I really ought to be ashamed I haven't found a good spot. I mean, honestly, I ride all over the place, I'm pretty sure I've been down most of the streets of Seattle on Scamper. I just rarely ever stop. I mean, yes I stop to rest myself on occasion, but I've been far to focused on forests to be hunting any haunts.
Though speaking of Scamper, this will be his first year as a coffeeneuring bike. Pinkie Pie is actually back in use by my husband since Barry is down for repairs. Therefore, its up to scrappy little Scamper to pick flag.
Without further ado, here are the coffeeneuring shops I've picked:
*10/3 or 10/4
One Cup Coffee Co
16743 Aurora ave N Seattle
10/10 or 10/11
Cafe Aroma
509 NE 165th St Seattle
10/17 or 10/18
Kaffeeklatsch Seattle
12513 Lake City Way NE Seattle
10/24 or 10/25
Bark Espresso
11335 Roosevelt Way NE Seattle
10/31 or 11/1
Chickalatte Aurora
10733 Aurora ave N Seattle
11/7 or 11/8
Lylas Family Espresso
8958 Aurora ave N Seattle
11/14 or 11/15
Cloud City Coffee
8801 Roosevelt Way NE
Now you may have noticed there is one place that's a repeat from last year, Cafe Aroma, while it was an okay shop, not certainly that special place I was looking for, it is probably the closest shop. That's pretty much the only reason it gets an encore. Since I haven't been to the shop since last year I feel I ought to see if at least one of the places I went last year installed a bike rack. And, no, Bridgewater Coffee House, as far as I know, never fulfilled their word on getting a rack put in.
This weekend I'll be hitting the One Cup Coffee place, which is pretty new. Hopefully one of the seven places will have a bike rack some should since they're in Seattle and not Shoreline, I've cruised past Bark Espresso a few times and it seems quite promising, if a bit far for me to pick as a regular place.
Lastly, since themes are the thing this year I've decided to be as bold as I'm capable of being in terms of themes (college made me very wary of any event involving a "theme") and decided with the theme of.....
Funky Socks!
Yeah, look at that, you know those socks will... knock yours off? Actually, I'm not entirely sure I have seven different pairs of weird socks, but I know I have more than 3 and I can always steal a pair of my husbands mustache socks (sorry love, but I mustache you to let me!) to make it work. Huh... I'm going to go count my socks...
*I may hit two shops in one weekend, I may skip a weekend, these times aren't a pledge, just a rough idea.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Such a thing as seasons
With the end of summer most people consider this the end of the cycling season. Personally, this summer emphasized how much I really dislike riding in the warmer season. No helmet is really comfortable, and as such I pretty much discarded mine for an indefinite time. In fact, I've gotten so used to riding sans helmet that I'm not sure I'll go back. You have no idea how much more space cars give you until you do, in fact my husband now refuses to wear a helmet because he feels safer without one.
As a disclaimer however, a friend of mine recently fell of her bike and got a concussion. I don't know if she was wearing a helmet or not, but just a reminder head injuries do happen.
The seasons change, I recently changed jobs so theoretically I'll be able to balance time better. Its a closer commute for one, no more downtown riding on a daily basis, no more near death experiences trying to cross on foot on 3rd and Union (that crosswalk is a death trap). Now my daily commute is for the most part on slow residential streets. Though, unfortunately I have to climb Mt. Roosevelt St., you know, the part of Roosevelt that's just a straight fucking 180 degree angle, for some reason, lacking a Trondheim lift, and a bike lane right in the dooring lane. Oh, and going northbound downhill at night, beware of a huge bump in the pavement that will knock you off your bike, there's no street light in that spot and if you aren't careful you will crash. Not that the manhole covers are a joy either, and you have to bike on those if you aren't brave enough to risk "taking the lane," The last time I did that someone kept flashing their headlights, creating an effective deadly blinding effect.
Aside from that one horrible section, its not bad as a commute goes. Though I'll admit I sometime cheat and ride the bus up the hill, folding Scamper and stowing him inside with me.
It was on one such day, recently, that a gentleman and I struck up a conversation. I noticed he was the rider of the rusty well loved upright on the front rack, and he admired the utility of Scamper. He remarked mournfully that it was "the end of the cycling season," to which I couldn't help but express disbelief such a thing as there being one season for cycling. I mean, yes, it is the end of the Summer Cycling Season, but that just means its the beginning of the Autumn Cycling Season. And seriously, aren't we lucky to live in a place that HAS an autumn?
Summer cycling for me is just utterly depressing. It wasn't just time constraints, and unmentioned health issues, that forced fewer posts, it was the awful torture that is summer cycling that made me fall silent. The principle of if you don't have something nice to say and all. But I'm going to make a defense against the so called "joy of the summer" and all that it brings:
2) Bugs. Bugs in your teeth, bugs in your bag, flying around you. Ever hit a bee going downhill? That's a no win for both parties.
3) A more personal note, I despise warmer temperatures. Any degree above 73 Fahrenheit and my body starts rejecting clothes like a bad transplant. I don't retain body heat well due to blood flow issues so you'd think warmer temperatures would be great. The truth is I'd rather put on a sweater than bike in just my bra and short shorts, but the heat makes this impossible.
4) On a further personal note, I have UV sensitivity issues, not only does this limit my rides in the summer because I've stripped down because of the heat, I'm super fucking blind on cloudless days. Oh sure with my sunglasses I can see, but if I break or loose them (and people, they are sunglasses, that shit is made to get lost and broken) I'm stuck.
5) Summer is nice, but it makes the scenery rather uniform. Especially in Seattle. Green, green, and oh hey, more green. But, in the fall, its all reds, oranges, yellows, in vibrant contrast to the ever present green. Sure, the summer is nice, but autumn is really the time to bike and get close to all the colors.
6) Spiders. Spiders everywhere. You notice how fall brings out the spiders around here? You can't outrun them. Get on your bike, escape Shelob.
7) Coffee rides anyone? Sure summer is the time for lots of group rides, but that doesn't end with the summer. Autumn is just as full of social rides. As kids go back to school and meet up with friends, social rides are just the thing to catch up on what's been happening all summer. Coffeeneuring kicks off the first of the autumn ride challenges, and the events never stop.
So if you didn't enjoy cycling this summer, don't worry, for whatever reason, you weren't alone. I'd recommend cycling in the fall, you don't have to keep going into winter, even I go through cycling pauses in the winter, and rarely do flakes of frost fall upon this part of the Pacific Northwest. Just try cycling through the autumn, say, late August through the last bit of November. Its just like riding in Spring, only less bugs, less heat, and more colors,
As a disclaimer however, a friend of mine recently fell of her bike and got a concussion. I don't know if she was wearing a helmet or not, but just a reminder head injuries do happen.
The seasons change, I recently changed jobs so theoretically I'll be able to balance time better. Its a closer commute for one, no more downtown riding on a daily basis, no more near death experiences trying to cross on foot on 3rd and Union (that crosswalk is a death trap). Now my daily commute is for the most part on slow residential streets. Though, unfortunately I have to climb Mt. Roosevelt St., you know, the part of Roosevelt that's just a straight fucking 180 degree angle, for some reason, lacking a Trondheim lift, and a bike lane right in the dooring lane. Oh, and going northbound downhill at night, beware of a huge bump in the pavement that will knock you off your bike, there's no street light in that spot and if you aren't careful you will crash. Not that the manhole covers are a joy either, and you have to bike on those if you aren't brave enough to risk "taking the lane," The last time I did that someone kept flashing their headlights, creating an effective deadly blinding effect.
Aside from that one horrible section, its not bad as a commute goes. Though I'll admit I sometime cheat and ride the bus up the hill, folding Scamper and stowing him inside with me.
It was on one such day, recently, that a gentleman and I struck up a conversation. I noticed he was the rider of the rusty well loved upright on the front rack, and he admired the utility of Scamper. He remarked mournfully that it was "the end of the cycling season," to which I couldn't help but express disbelief such a thing as there being one season for cycling. I mean, yes, it is the end of the Summer Cycling Season, but that just means its the beginning of the Autumn Cycling Season. And seriously, aren't we lucky to live in a place that HAS an autumn?
Summer cycling for me is just utterly depressing. It wasn't just time constraints, and unmentioned health issues, that forced fewer posts, it was the awful torture that is summer cycling that made me fall silent. The principle of if you don't have something nice to say and all. But I'm going to make a defense against the so called "joy of the summer" and all that it brings:
Seven Reasons Summer Cycling Sucks
1) The lack of parking. This is a first and foremost complaint, if people cycling just a few months longer after summer, shops would give in and install cycle parking. All the year long cyclist bemoan this sad state, but for some reason we're stuck in the this cycle. Maybe if we pointed summer cycling is the worst people would want to give cycling in other seasons a try.2) Bugs. Bugs in your teeth, bugs in your bag, flying around you. Ever hit a bee going downhill? That's a no win for both parties.
3) A more personal note, I despise warmer temperatures. Any degree above 73 Fahrenheit and my body starts rejecting clothes like a bad transplant. I don't retain body heat well due to blood flow issues so you'd think warmer temperatures would be great. The truth is I'd rather put on a sweater than bike in just my bra and short shorts, but the heat makes this impossible.
4) On a further personal note, I have UV sensitivity issues, not only does this limit my rides in the summer because I've stripped down because of the heat, I'm super fucking blind on cloudless days. Oh sure with my sunglasses I can see, but if I break or loose them (and people, they are sunglasses, that shit is made to get lost and broken) I'm stuck.
5) Summer is nice, but it makes the scenery rather uniform. Especially in Seattle. Green, green, and oh hey, more green. But, in the fall, its all reds, oranges, yellows, in vibrant contrast to the ever present green. Sure, the summer is nice, but autumn is really the time to bike and get close to all the colors.
6) Spiders. Spiders everywhere. You notice how fall brings out the spiders around here? You can't outrun them. Get on your bike, escape Shelob.
7) Coffee rides anyone? Sure summer is the time for lots of group rides, but that doesn't end with the summer. Autumn is just as full of social rides. As kids go back to school and meet up with friends, social rides are just the thing to catch up on what's been happening all summer. Coffeeneuring kicks off the first of the autumn ride challenges, and the events never stop.
So if you didn't enjoy cycling this summer, don't worry, for whatever reason, you weren't alone. I'd recommend cycling in the fall, you don't have to keep going into winter, even I go through cycling pauses in the winter, and rarely do flakes of frost fall upon this part of the Pacific Northwest. Just try cycling through the autumn, say, late August through the last bit of November. Its just like riding in Spring, only less bugs, less heat, and more colors,
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