Riding like we did when we were kids

     Oh my, so much to catch up on! First cycling with my childhood friend on the streets of Shoreline, and my time in the human cage known as a car, then the wedding (pictures! Eventually!), and of course, beginning my first year of 30 Days of Biking. No more news on the LINK rail yet, but if you've attended one of the recent meetings in Shoreline I'd love to link to your post about it.
    When we were kids my friend Susie was just a kid I babysat, then a cooler-than-average-kid I baby sat. When we became adults we found we had so much in common, and continue to this day. She flew down, which shows just how much she cares since flying ranks higher than going to the dentist in things Susie hates. Of course I had to push the limit by getting her back on a bike. We used to bike as kids, we biked everywhere, because there was no way I was going to walk with all of those kids, and also I wasn't going to carry anyone older than three.
   She was so nervous, probably because I made her wear a helmet. We didn't grow up wearing helmets in Alaska, and it sort of gave her the impression that it might be dangerous, after all they wouldn't tell us to wear helmets here unless it was dangerous here, right? She giggled when I went over signaling, and proper strap wear. I set her on Pinkie Pie, who is a stable upright stead, the equivalent of a gentle mare to help her get back in the swing. I pointed out they wouldn't have the expression "like riding a bicycle," if it was something you could forget. We set off for the mall and before we got to the next street she was terrified. I turned us off Meridian N to 162nd, it leads to 1st eventually, but through a suburban neighborhood rather than the main road.
    She explained she really couldn't go any further, biking next to cars was terrifying for her, she was a mom and couldn't risk her life like that. She couldn't see how I did it. I begged her not to give up, and picked a closer destination, the Dollar Store (this is a novel treat for Alaskans) and turned her toward the Interurban trail. She had to push her bike up Densmore, complaining all the while how out of shape she was, I had to resist the urge to mock her for using a truck. Its not fair, but it biking in Alaska is not for the faint of heart. Furthermore, as a mom she had limited time, but she spoke with real desire to bike with her son over the summer. She flinched every time a car passed until we got to the trail.

 The first shot is her on the streets, the second and last on the trail 

I look and I can barely tell its her and not myself. There's a few differences, but it looks a lot like I did years ago. Helps she's wearing my flannel, helmet, and kerchiefs, but that grimace? Yep, that was my own bike-face years ago. Really not even that long ago. I was not a confident cyclist when I came here, and it took a lot for me to have the courage to take the lane. I'm not really all that confident either, but I feel that way with a real beginner to 'vehicular cycling,' which is bike speak for 'riding next to cars with no protection like you are a car' and is not for those with poor nerves. Susie felt better on the trail, but not much better on the greenway. When I asked why she pointed, "The cars are still right there!" and that there was nothing to stop them from entering the greenway. Nothing, but the law.
I assured her we were fine, and we rode onward, completing our journey, shopping, and of course, gossiping. We had a cigarette before we took off, snickering that while we were dumb for smoking we weren't as dumb as the guy smoking next to the propane tanks. On our way back she marveled I hadn't given up the habit. I wish I could turn up one eyebrow like my grandfather, because I totally would have as I replied, "lung resistance training,*" and waited for her at the top of the hill leading back to the trail. At the top I assured her I would seek healthier habits if she did, and we laughed hard enough to need to catch our breath.
I wished we had more time, that the ride was longer. That we still rode together. Compared to other cyclists I'm practically a fair-weather type. If I'm not feeling physically up for it due to a myriad of conditions, I don't (this has presented a challenge in feeling the 'joy' in 30 days of cycling, but more on that later). But in the eyes of my friends, my family, and my coworkers, I'm so hard core I could do the Tour de France. This is because many of my friends don't cycle at all, my family that does bike uses motorcycles, and my coworkers can only vaguely recall the last time they rode. Moreover, I look fairly healthy enough, so to them I'm perpetuating a stereotypical cyclist; young, fit, white, and a "special" bike, and confident in her abilities.
But I'm not a stereotypical cyclist. For one thing, I'm only half white at best. I'm not that confident. At least, not when I ride alone. When I'm with someone else I'm totally confident, the more people, the more confident I am. I'm practically Wonder Woman on a group ride. I sound confident, but when I'm alone, I'm not. I'm so scared I'll get hit and there will be no one to call for help. I'm scared the person who hit me won't even know they did so, and I'll be a ghost bike. I'm scared I'll die in the saddle and Ben will never ride again because he won't be able to look at a bike again. That he'll buy a car and forget it ever made him happy too. I'm afraid of others, who, if I died biking, would never take it back up, or begin at all because it is too dangerous.
My bike isn't special. Okay, no that's a lie, my bike is special, its so special it had to be in my wedding somehow because I love it so much, but that's all that really makes it special. There are hundreds of folding bikes out there (hopefully not a hyperbole) and many that I know have more gears than Scamper, many made with carbon or titanium, many can carry more pounds and many are built to be faster. And most cost far far more than Scamper. A basic model of folding bike, with the basic number of gears. It is in fact a rather humble appearing bike if you know techs and specs, and let's face it, not even that many in the cycling community would know offhand Scamper wasn't a top teir kind of folding bike.
Its these things that make me the truly stereotypical cyclist; young, nervous, cheap bike, This is what the cycling community sees as the typical cyclist. The middle aged men in lycra, and the young racers? That's what the outside sees as the typical cyclist.
The only thing that makes me really stand out is not owning a car or having a licence, which most cyclist do, even the ones you can't peel out of their spandex.
A lot of progress has been made in changing how we cyclists are seen, even as we cyclists change. We move from being children just gaining independence, to adults who bike for so many reasons. I've gone from a traffic avoiding rider to someone who rides beside cars with no more protection that a stripe of paint, if that at all. Am I scared? Yes. Do I want better? Absolutely. Because I know now that I should have never changed, I should have stayed scared like Susie and the infrastructure should have been built with us in mind, instead of forever putting us in some subgroup whose needs must be "special interest" instead of perhaps the most non-partisan issue ever.
I hope Susie rides more, but I'm not going back North anytime soon to ride with her. But the Interurban is just a little more special for me in the meantime, its a place we rode together, and, just for old time's sake, I did the 'ol drangonfly maneuver, where we laughed, and, just for a moment, I could feel the girls we were riding with us.


That's all for now (surely you didn't think I'd be able to cram all that in the intro into one post? Dude, tl; dr) In the meantime, if you're going to make the pledge do so now, its closing soon!!!!




*a quote from Sister Sprocket from the Kickstand Comics

My love rides two wheels

      As I posted earlier in December I am getting married. Actually, in about two weeks from this day I will marry the guy I had a crush on when I was 16 1/2 years old, who became the man I dated when I was 23, who became my best friend in the whole world when I was 27. We've taken our time, but its also taken me time, we started dating when I was in the middle of a divorce, and it took me a while to take him seriously, who could blame me? He had a car.
      Oh sure my cats adored him, but frankly I was repairing his car so often that I thought he'd never actually give up driving, even if we did move thousands of miles to a major metropolitan area that had bike lanes and cars. He seemed utterly tied to the convenience of a car, and if I'm to be honest, he's not an outdoors kind of person. Or even an out of the house kind of person. He's funny, a deep thinker, an empathetic listener, a god at Guitar Hero, but not naturally inclined to look at a cliff and think, 'I must climb that! for... Reasons!' and then scurry off. I think just initially dating me he lost 15lbs. Now, many countless adventures later, we're formalizing our partnership.
      Before we even got on the plane I was pushing him to rethink purchasing a new car when we landed, it would be expensive, (a major deal since getting from Alaska to Seattle alone can be expensive), we probably wouldn't need it if everything everyone said about transit there was true (it mostly was), and anyway I hated driving so he'd end up shuttling me again. He said he'd think about it. Which is Ben's way of saying he will think about it for a long time considering every point, and the tangents therein, and get back to me.
      After a month he'd agreed even entertaining the idea of buying a car here in Seattle was crazy. He realized how much he missed biking, and when he realized there would be no snowfall heavy enough to force him to give it up, he rejoiced. Sure, he'll never join a club, or go to bike events on his own, or even have it occur to him to go to a biking event. To him its always going to mostly be a way to get around.
     That's a good thing, for myself I'd just make more trips to the store, Ben, the practical as ever, decided a trailer was just the thing we needed, but wisely let me go crazy with research. He may not ever be a MAMIL* (in fact, he is unable to ride with no hands), but I wouldn't want him to be one, I like him just as he is, because while he's not a racer, and I'll probably always need to wait for him to catch up, its not like he'll ever ditch me either. He agrees all my clothes are cycling clothes, but still encourages me to consider biking when I'm getting clothes.
      He's always on my wheel when I need him to be there, and while he doesn't have my passion for bikes, he understands it.
      Planning a wedding with bikes isn't the easiest thing either, especially when your mother tells you she's renting a car because "our people don't bike or bus," (read that in a haughty east cost voice) and the rest of the party is of the same sentiment. His family is of course, also renting a car. I suppose that's good because that's probably the best way to transport the cake under the circumstances. Still, I'm hoping to show at least a few people in my wedding party the beauty of the bike lanes here, and my best friend from Alaska is eager to see my saddle bound world (no surprise since we rode everywhere together as kids).
       I wasn't able to find wedding rings of a bike themed nature, but I did find invitations and a cycle themed wedding topper that I actually liked, though it required some changes, You can see how mine is different here. My step-mother, and probably one of my sisters will be making the cake, I say probably one of my sisters because my step mother fractured her arm because winter is furious I'm not getting married in December again. Don't worry, my step-mother made sure all of her girls know how to make and decorate a cake, also I'm going with a simple wheel and spokes design. After the wedding dinner Ben and I will be taking off on our bikes to our home to change for the after-adults-only party.
     I probably won't be able to bike to my wedding because Seattle has a ridiculous helmet law, so even though there is a perfectly safe path to the park I can't use it to get there because no matter what the all mighty helmet lobby might want you to think, helmet hair is not cool. It will never be cool. However, after the dinner I won't have to care about my hair anymore so I can strap it back on. Besides, I can't really express my joy in any other way, someone like Michael Bennett understands, when joy overtakes your heart, well, what else can you do but get a on a bike?

Speaking of joyful cycling, I've made the pledge for this April's 30 Days of Biking, you can see my pledge as number 496, I should've just waited a tick and snagged number 500. I encourage you all to make your pledge, it doesn't matter the distance, it doesn't take money, it just takes joy and it gives kids bikes.

The Major Taylor Ride for Seattle is coming up on the 18th of April, and yes, if I'm mentioning a bunch of April stuff, well, its because I'm trying not to think of all the awesome March stuff I'm missing (so much much women bike stuff in March I'm missing), and concentrating on what's ahead. Because nothing is going to help me de-stress from this madness like a good spirited group ride.

This is probably all I'm going to have time for, blog wise, until after I've married Ben, so you can probably expect a LINK rail post coming up in the near future, as well as another post about the wedding which will have pictures.

Oh and don't think my friend from the previous post has given up, her continuing cycling saga will be shared in coming days as well.

Until April, wind to your backs my friends.
 




*middle age man in Lycra
 

Spring rides and fun times

     Its officially spring here in my part of the Pacific Northwest. Daffodils, daisy, dandelions, cherry blossoms, and other early flowers dot the landscape as they have done for endless springs before. Casual riders are returning to the roads, and with them come the inevitable crescendo of complaints of infrastructure that the constant rider has waited for to build the movement that completes safe streets.
     As if waiting for the political timing (I have no doubt this was a part), Seattle has announced they will take part in Vision Zero, a plan to reduce traffic deaths, pedestrian and cycling specifically, but also vehicular deaths, to zero.
     I have not said much on the announcement because I've been riding more and on media in general less. Obviously I am for it, but it comes with the concerns any safety program has with enforcement and public will.
    Recently, one of my friends has decided to get back on a back, she'd stopped riding after childhood because the bus was simply more convenient, but the hills between the stop and her house took to long to walk and she wanted to cycle up them. After constructing her bike (I'm not a mechanic and as a rule if you order a bike from the internet its not usually assembled and if you're not a mechanic you should take it to a shop and not have your only marginally good-at-this-shit-friend put it together, but we all learn these lessons), we proceeded to a bike shop for the aside aforementioned reason.
     While she had biked as a child she had not done vehicular cycling, she'd only taken her bike to a park and ridden it there, or between homes of friends. In short, she'd never had cars fly by her at 40mph in a bike lane. She was rightly terrified. Good sense tells you not to be near something at high speeds, still I had not realized how fearless I had become as I stayed on her wheel coaching her down one hill and up another. More experienced riders passed us, I didn't get a good look at their team jersey, but they shouted encouragement and praise as they passed.
    I tried to think which areas in Lake City would be good to take a nervous rider through, but those are fewer and further between than even Shoreline. We have the Interurban Trail, a safe place for beginning riders to learn the signals, connected by a protected lane that makes it a calm place to learn.
     Her bike is currently being worked on, and she's still researching the best helmet for her, in a style she can live with. Because we can talk about Vision Zero all we want, but the Dutch don't cycle with helmets. California is talking about mandating them and reflective gear. Even though study after study says both will do nothing to prevent an accident.
     Until Seattle cycles without helmets, until there is a true mix of beginners, and the fearful, the confident, and the fast, there will still be traffic deaths on bikes. Because there will never be enough people on bikes to get the movement behind them. Because we will always be waiting for spring to bring the slight volume increase to pass the most minor of helpful changes. Because we are stupid in the future.
      And yes, I'm still wearing a helmet, not because it protects me, makes me safe, but because I can't afford the ticket. Other people wear helmets because of a police issue that I am not getting into here because my own feelings on it are too complex to be lumped into this issue.
     Back to my own rides, its been at least two Critical Lass rides since I last posted, both rides were the high level of fun and comradeship that come with mass rides lead by experienced women. There are more coming in the weeks ahead and I encourage you to follow them on Facebook and ride along.
     As for my new folding bike, I've named him Scamper, he takes hills like a champ! In fact, I must confess its amusing as hell to hear the grind of those big wheel bikes changing gear as my bike skedaddles up, only shifting until the peak or sometimes not even. Moreover, if I keep taking Scamper on group rides I'm going to have to be careful about actually shifting down on the hills just so I don't drop the group! (I uh, accidentally did that at an intersection, sooooo embarassing!) I also participated in the International Winter Bike to Work Day, which was like every day I biked to work, with only maybe one or two more riders. Too bad it wasn't one week later, as bike parking at my work has returned to a premium of first come first serve. However, Scamper sits next to my desk at work, so parking is no longer an issue for me,
     I mean parking is still a huge issue for me, I'm not giving up our rights for racks, Ben has to park somewhere, and someday I'll probably have a cargo bike I'll need to park. Its not like Scamper is my only bike, N + 1, you know.
    Next week is the Seattle Bike Show, which I'm sure everyone and anyone who is anyone worth riding with will be there. I, however, might not, I've got a wedding to plan, a new rider I'm helping get on the path, and of course, every social ride that comes with spring to plan for, and the spring challenges and pledges (like 30 days of Biking). You can, however, still find me on twitter.
   The only thing I can promise is to try to be more consistent, but oh man, have you seen the weather here? I've just got to ride.

New bike and new rides

     Wheeeee! So the new bike arrived, a beautiful little blue folding bike. At first I was a little shaky on it, there's always a bit off nerves riding any new bike, add a dash of nerves for a kind of bike you've never rode, and then destroy it all in the glorious excitement of getting a new bike:

opening the box

looks like I'll need to unwrap it

Ta dah! 

    It doesn't have a name yet, we've only been on a handful of rides together. I'm getting better at folding and unfolding it, some of the awkwardness derives from just being unfamiliar with the concept. Though I have to admit I sleep easier with the bike inside. 

    Unsurprisingly, its a fast little piece of steel, though I was surprised by how much faster at going up a hill than across flat terrain. It could probably go faster if I added gears, but as it is I'm quite content with how fast it is, maybe a little malcontent, after all I'm no racer. 

    I was a little awkward on turns until fellow rider @@Rider_Reilhan (via twitter and amazing blogger) suggested standing on the pedals. I was skeptical, but it gave me back my darting turns (I hate turning with the bar, I prefer to lean and keep pedaling). I've gotten to the point where I'm enjoying standing on the bar and cruising (not at all safe), and ironed my coffeeneuring badge onto my rear cargo bag: 

booyah!

    I turned my card into a spoke card (I have a laminate machine at my work) and put it on Pinkie Pie, as she is the bike that really earned it. I was worried how we would handle being a three bike household, but as Ben's bike is having break issues, he's riding Pinkie for the time being. Who knows, I might convert him to basket life by the end of it.

   In the meantime, there's been some safety improvements on NE Roosevelt and I'm off to check that out. Oh, and if you want to ride together there's a mass ride next weekend! See you there

Dirty little sneak

      I have a confession. I've been cheating on my bike. Don't get me wrong, I love my little Schwinn, I'm not selling her anytime soon. But... I've been cheating on her, looking at other bikes, ogling different frames, pondering different pedals, gazing on different gears, and even, dare I confess? Yes, dreaming of a riding a different saddle.
     I shouldn't be that ashamed, I know many cyclists who have more than one bike, some bikes are better suited to different things. I, however, have always been true to one ride at a time, making one bike work for all things. Its not a marriage, not exactly, and not like my bike is an animate object to be jealous or angry with me, but those little bells do sound a bit condemning these days.
     You see I've been thinking very hard about getting a folding bike, better suited for my commutes than for grocery runs. Pinkie Pie, my current ride, is great for those. Her frame can stand the weight of the trailer, her basket is lovely for Mac or a smaller bag. However, she's a big girl in terms of weight, and pushing her up Greenwood has begun to strain me, and lifting her onto the bus rack hurts my shoulders. A folding bike makes sense for my commute in many ways, and for my random adventures near and far, should the sun leave me bereft of strength, or the journey too much, resorting to public transit would not become a perilous chance of dice (how many times after an event have you waited and waited for a but with a free rack spot?)
     In fact, it was, on the bus on my way home, where I began looking again at other bikes.
     "Oh, look at her rack," I whispered, not realizing I said it aloud. The mother across from me shot me a nasty look and, conscious of my error, I quickly turned my phone to show her the bike. She smiled, probably feeling better she wasn't sitting across from a pervert.
    The gentlemen to my side inquired as to the bike I was looking at and I showed them.
    "That looks expensive," one of them frowned, "Set you back about two thousand, am I right?"
    "Nope," I smiled, "She's only a hundred sixty four, not counting tax of course,"
    "You're kidding me," he exclaimed.
     "Oh no, folding bikes aren't just for rich folks, more for every day folks," I said. The woman sitting next to the mother craned her head, and I showed her the bike.
    "Oh, I could use that," she said, "Except on the hills, those little wheels," she shook her head. I laughed.
    "Actually, its better to have little wheels if you have a lot of hills," I explained.
    "How's that?"
    "You ever notice how quick a rabbit or a dog goes up a hill?" I asked, "Its because of how they're pushing their weight up. We walk upright, so we're pushing a different fulcrum to achieve momentum,"I showed the motions using my hands, "Smaller wheels keep you close to the ground, and they my make better use of the surface ratio,"
    "Won't it just collapse on you someday?" the other man asked. I showed them a couple videos of folding bikes, showing how they worked, and the conversation moved to electric bikes and the difference between an assist bike and a full electric, and the different bikes we'd all had through our lives.
     The weekend before Christmas Ben took my bike out to help me haul a cat tree home for the kids. Sadly he didn't take any pictures when he brought home our tree that way, but we did get a couple shots of the cat tree.
     Even he agreed, while Pinkie is good for a haul, or a free style ride, she's not really practical the for the length a challenges of my commute. Which means, my dear readers, in the new year I'll be adding a new stead to my stable. Hopefully I'll be able to shake the gnawing sense of guilt.
    In the meantime, am I missing a trick, or does Seattle not have a bike podcast?

No hands tight turns

Went on just a little ride today, Carkeek Park, a little holiday shopping. Ben came with, but Mac stayed behind, though the weather was nice we wanted to walk trails that dogs aren't allowed on. Normally I'd eschew any path where my dog wasn't welcome, but since we were shopping later anyway, my basket jingled emptily. We went to the park to pick out the spot we'd get married in this coming March, and I think we found the perfect spot. We already knew it was going to be there, we just hadn't found the perfect spot yet.

Oh, and the invitations came (if you like them, I got them on Zazzle, and you can customize your own variation)

On the way back as we rode I did, as I so often do, rode without hands on my handlebars. I steer fairly well, and can go quite a distance without my hands on the bars. I often do, sometimes to dance along to the music I'm listening to, or because I'm fishing something out of a pocket, or to pet my dog, or to perform a series of signals to indicate I'm going to be stopping and going left or right. As a little girl I broke my arm riding no handed so I'm well aware of the danger.

In fact, I was riding no handed, doing the 'V' for victory sign as a 7 yr old miscreant, when a bump in the pavement caused me to snap my left arm on the curb. Fortunately, my step-father can set a bone and the arm has never troubled me much, but I'm very grateful for that break, even if it was a miserable summer with a stinky cast.

The series of crashes and spin-outs taught me how to shift my core center and balance my weight in such a way that I could probably ride a unicycle (though I've no inclination to do so) and take turns barely moving my handlebars, the most hairpin curve doesn't faze me in terms of control. I can even keep pedaling under such conditions. I don't need to grip the mid-bar with my thighs, its a matter of moving your center of gravity to your butt, and using your hindquarters kind of like a rudder. Even with my hands on the bars I'm turning my back wheel just a smidgen before my front wheel. I learned to turn this way because, growing up, there was a spot we nick-named 'Dead Man's Curve' a near guaranteed wipe-out jut in front of the fire-station on the campus. Its since been fixed, but back in the day that turn would send you sprawling and tumbling, if you weren't clutching your breaks. 

I hated loosing speed, I hated riding my breaks down, and often when I was first learning to adjust them they would fail and force me to use my foot (in an emergency you can jam your foot to stop your back wheel by kicking your leg behind the seat and doing a door stop move on the tire*), So I adapted various methods until even Dead Man's curve couldn't kill my speed if I chose. Of course you should still slow down somewhat on turns, there's no need to arrive as a DOA.

Now, I've always been aware Ben is unable to ride no-handed, and I dunno, I guess the idea of committing to someone who can't whistle is one thing, but riding no handed is another. It took a bit of coaxing, and no small amount of courage on his part, but the Interurban trail is a flat and good place to learn the skill. 

After a few tries he was able to to keep going no handed, not long long stretches, but nothing to sneeze at considering. Its hard as well, to explain shifting your weight to the back of the saddle, and far easier to do on an upright bike than a mountain bike (though still easy for me), so it took a few tries, but hey, give the guy credit, he got there. It also highlighted, for me anyway, how long a person can ride without ever needing the things we consider essential, and to never underestimate it. 

With the weather being what its been lately (snow, rain, and then more rain), and after a pretty muddy trek, I think tomorrow is going to be spent cleaning my bike. Its been a few months and Pinkie Pie isn't at her best looking right now, she's more than a little muddy, and I'd be remiss if I didn't grease her chain. Its a shame to miss a rainless day of riding, but who knows, maybe I'll finish early and get a chance to ride out, I mean, I do have to check my work, right?

*Note: This is an EMERGENCY move only, you will wear down the rubber of your shoes super quick this way.

Show me your rack...

You've waited so long, you've been so patient. So here it is:

THE RACK RANT

Shoreline, show me your rack. Not that one! I can see that one at the coffee stands. No, show me your bike rack. Is there a local business with a bike rack? Not many. In fact I can literally name every business in this town with a bike rack because those are the business I frequent the most. And even those racks are woefully inadequate.

For example, the Safeway on Aurora Ave. N, does indeed have a bike rack. However, the rack is not at all in any way shape or form, secured to the cement it stands on. Numerous emails and in-person requests have failed to get this issue addressed. Oh and watch out for rats when you lock up there.

There is not a single coffee establishment in Shoreline with a bike rack. Businesses that do enjoy bike business either didn't install them (came with the property) or rely on customers being willing to lock up to a sign. Have you ever made the horrible mistake of locking up to a handicapped sign because it was the only stable place to lock? I have.

Earth forbid you try to eat at a local establishment. You're definately lockig up to a sign now. Or a post of some kind. This pretty much tells every cyclist passing through Shoreline "Your money isn't good enough," you could be willing to spend hundreds in their establishment, your bike could've cost you thousands. But a place to lock up? Pshaw! Your own fault if you didn't have the luxury of buying a folding bike. Oh, and good luck taking that folding bike inside, as the news has so recently shown, someone could call the cops on you. I once went to that little Greek restaurant and grocery by the Goldie Casino and had to lock up by the dumpster. Talk about unappetizing.

With a critical trail running through Shoreline you'd think there would be bike racks and bike parking aplenty. You would be hilariously mistaken. In spite of the hundreds that pass through our fair city, few stop, few would want to stop, and even fewer would endure such elitist treatment. Never mind that lost business, the cyclists who would rather ride to or live in Seattle, Redmond, etc.. than deal with the crap Shoreline throws at them.

But I'm not just going to tell you what's wrong. Besides our just amazingly stupid bike rack design at City Hall which still has not been fixed in spite of numerous attempts to convince them its dumb as fuck,

No, dear reader, I'm going to give you a solution, nay the most simple equation to fix this problem:


For every 5 car spots there needs to be one bike rail. For every 10 parking spots there needs to be a bike rack.

No exceptions.

Its that simple. Businesses don't want to install them? Then those businesses don't get car parking allotted to them. Think your businesses doesn't need bike parking? Ask your employees. Rent your space of business? Demand the property manager install them.

Until there's a bike rack you can kiss off getting my business or getting my recommendation.

Now, show me your rack, baby.