<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:28:03.510-07:00</updated><category term='Comuting with a laptop'/><title type='text'>Cycling to Work</title><subtitle type='html'>A journal of daily travels by bike</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-7698207022642381587</id><published>2009-09-09T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T09:47:21.087-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"GOOD MORNING!" I SAID.</title><content type='html'>I'm the Leo Buscaglia of the bike path. Riding along each morning I greet everyone I meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning!" I said. The biker coming in the opposite direction blinked and did a double take. She mumbled something unintelligible as we whizzed past each other the doppler effect taking it's toll on the micro-conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning!" I said. The elderly Asian couple pushing their grandchild in the stroller looked up, stopped and turned. "Good morning," the husband replied smiling and slightly bowing his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buscaglia was the master of making friends and welcoming everyone into his world. His cheery greeting to absolute strangers would often get the response "Do I know you?" And Leo would reply, "No, but wouldn't it be great if you did!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning!" I said as I drove by a woman taking in the morning air on her front porch. Sitting just 20 feet from the street with her cat curled up at her feet, she didn't flinch and said nothing. Maye she's hearing impaired I thought. I could turn around and give it another try. Or perhaps she has 911 on her speed dial. "We've got at 502 (cheerful while biking) in progress on Owasso Street. All units respond."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was riding with a friend who was unaware of my job as official bike path cheerleader. A bit embarrassed at first, he began chirping back a warm good morning greeting of his own. The movement is growing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning!" I said. The two women walkers were engaged in a vigorous animated conversation as I rolled past then. "Good morning!" they laughingly replied in perfect unison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of the people I pass are wearing ear buds or full headphones as they pedal, walk or run missing out on the sounds all around them. Sometimes I'll just wave to them as a "good morning" might not be heard through the latest Dixie Chicks CD playing on their iPod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good Morning Buck!" I said. Buck and his dog Zinger are frequent fellow travelers on the bike path. Zinger, who is walking a good 100 yards behind his master, looks up to make sure Buck is in sight. While Buck and I have engaged in longer conversations than an early morning greeting, Zinger is a bit leery of coming too close. If I stop my bike before Zinger passes, he'll intentionally make a large circle around this stranger with the helmet, vest and out stretched hand. A scratch isn't what Zinger is looking for this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Leo, I'm not out to change the world or get a return on my investment. If if should get an unsolicited "Good Morning!" it might have been the seed I planted. Or maybe it is just another person who's happy to be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good Morning!" I said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-7698207022642381587?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/7698207022642381587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=7698207022642381587' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7698207022642381587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7698207022642381587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-morning-i-said.html' title='&quot;GOOD MORNING!&quot; I SAID.'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-4761285004657478342</id><published>2008-11-29T15:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T15:35:16.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AFTER 32 YEARS, A NEW BICYCLE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I bought my Schwinn Super le Tour 12.2 road bike in 1976. Other than a few new parts (and a lot of new inner tubes) the biked remained the same and was a valued and trusted friend. But 32 years is a long time in bike years and it became more and more difficult to find parts. Sixty-three years is a long time in human years and my neck and back were beginning to balk at the idea of being bent over on a bike for a 30 minute commute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So I began looking for a replacement bike that gave me an upright posture by reading on the Internet and prowling around our local bike shops in Eugene. So let's cut to the chase: After riding a 20" wheel folding bike from Dahon of Southern California, I was hooked. It felt like riding a combination of bike, unicycle and roller blades. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274226416293067298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/STHQ-0ghOiI/AAAAAAAAAUw/zDa9bqjc8kI/s320/obam-er.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;It gave me the upright position I was needing and provided a fun bike to ride. Actually, the fact that it could fold up was only a secondary consideration; but it will be nice to take it on the bus when I ride the LTD instead of mounting it on the front. It is easier to store at work and can easily and quickly fit into the trunk of the car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274226645103826834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/STHRMI5QV5I/AAAAAAAAAU4/ZhxMxwMC_Ic/s320/obam-er-folded.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;IBecause I bought the bike on November 4, 2008, election day, I named the new bike "The Obamer". I hope this is my last bike. I think I'll be on this one as I ride off into the sunset.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-4761285004657478342?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/4761285004657478342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=4761285004657478342' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/4761285004657478342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/4761285004657478342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2008/11/after-32-years-new-bicycle.html' title='AFTER 32 YEARS, A NEW BICYCLE'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/STHQ-0ghOiI/AAAAAAAAAUw/zDa9bqjc8kI/s72-c/obam-er.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-5722165522349496069</id><published>2008-07-23T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T09:58:36.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GOGGLES SAVE THE DAY</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/SIepi45-V6I/AAAAAAAAANA/jFrg-hEtf5g/s1600-h/goggles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226332309442942882" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/SIepi45-V6I/AAAAAAAAANA/jFrg-hEtf5g/s320/goggles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've always had problems with hay fever from about May 15 to July 4. This year was no different with the grass fields in full bloom. I was figuring I'd have to curtail or eliminate my bike commuting during that month and a half; but I remembered what Jon Kline told me last year. Jon said he often rode wearing swimming goggles during allergy season. I wear glasses so swimming goggles wouldn't work; but I found a pair of chemical protection goggles at a hardware store that were big enough to wear my glasses comfortably underneath. About the second day of heavy pollen, I donned the goggles and the symptoms I was experiencing completely disappeared. I wore them through the end of June when they started cutting the grass and my eyes weren't itchy, watery nor did they burn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Well, it isn't a great fashion statement, but it worked!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-5722165522349496069?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/5722165522349496069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=5722165522349496069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5722165522349496069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5722165522349496069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2008/07/goggles-save-day.html' title='GOGGLES SAVE THE DAY'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/SIepi45-V6I/AAAAAAAAANA/jFrg-hEtf5g/s72-c/goggles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-4347846155613862536</id><published>2008-01-19T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T21:30:27.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AND THEN I WAS ON THE GROUND</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/R5LcZPXBhYI/AAAAAAAAAJs/2LRy99BomDM/s1600-h/bikecrash.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157426849470580098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/R5LcZPXBhYI/AAAAAAAAAJs/2LRy99BomDM/s200/bikecrash.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Monday, while riding to work along Barger, I hit some black ice and fell. Both wheels went out from underneath me and I landed on my left side first smacking my hand still grasping the handlebar, then my left knee, elbow, shoulder and finally the front left of my helmet. A motorist, traveling in the opposite direction stopped and helped me to my feet. My bike was pretty much unscathed with the exception of the handlebars being slightly askew. The fall took a hunk of skin off my knee and elbow, but didn't break the skin on either my hand or shoulder. I was wearing thick gloves that saved my hand from lacerations; but I jammed my middle finger causing my hand to swell. Maybe the most disconcerting part of this tale is that I ripped holes my brand new rain pants and rain jacket. Fortunately REI sells a repair kit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This all brings back the reminder of why I always wear a helmet. There continues to be controversy over whether helmets actually help or not; for me, there is no question that I was spared a serious head injury because I was wearing a helmet.For the 32 years that I've been a bike commuter, I've always worn a helmet. Even back it the olden days when people laughed and asked me why I was wearing a salad bowl on my head ("It's not a salad bowl; it's a Bell bike helmet.") I never rode without a helmet. In those 32 years I've only fallen and hit my head twice; but both times the helmet was the difference between a mild headache and serious injury.I began wearing a helmet because I promised our two daughters that they would have a father who could work to help support the family and be able to talk in complete sentences. I've kept the first part of that promise and, to some extent, the second part as well. Today I promised Carolyn, for the same reasons as stated above, that I will never ride my bike again when the temperature is less than 40 degrees. I know many of you ride no matter what the weather and I hope you continue to ride safely. But for me, and Carolyn's peace of mind, I'll be a 40+ rider from now on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was going to post a piece today on why I ride my bike. It sort of turned into "When I ride my bike."Don't forget to strap that helmet on tightly!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-4347846155613862536?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/4347846155613862536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=4347846155613862536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/4347846155613862536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/4347846155613862536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-then-i-was-on-ground.html' title='AND THEN I WAS ON THE GROUND'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/R5LcZPXBhYI/AAAAAAAAAJs/2LRy99BomDM/s72-c/bikecrash.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-455568630175263464</id><published>2007-08-17T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T20:01:04.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TRYING TO BEE SAFE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RsZfmDjmXuI/AAAAAAAAAG8/dCD-wH54TgA/s1600-h/BigYellowJacket.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099868735437954786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RsZfmDjmXuI/AAAAAAAAAG8/dCD-wH54TgA/s320/BigYellowJacket.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two weeks ago I was riding my bike home from work when a yellow jacket smacked into by glasses and dropped down onto my bare arm below my shirt sleeve. Panicked, I swatted at the bee with my free hand but didn't knock him off. That, apparently, ticked him off so he jammed his stinger into me and buzzed off. Oof! I pulled off the road and started sucking the poison and spitting it out. Suck. . .spit. . .suck. . . spit just like my mother-in-law used to do with bee stings on her grand children's feet. I'm not sure what people driving by thought of this guy sucking on his arm. But by the time I got home, the pain had lessened and there was no swelling, just some redness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Flash forward two weeks and I'm out for a ride one afternoon and SMACK! another yellow jacket hits me this time in the lower lip. From there the bee did a somersault into my mouth. Fortunately I had my teeth close enough together to keep him from going farther. I started spitting bee parts out thinking how lucky I was that I didn't get stung this time. Wait. . . for . .  it. . . .yeow! He nailed me on the lower lip and man, it was stinging. I couldn't suck my lip so I was stuck being stuck. When I got home I put ice on my lip but by that time it was red, and painful and starting to swell. It stayed that way for about 24 hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What was I going to do to keep this from happening again? Ah ha! Look it up on the Internet, of course. I Googled "preventing bee stings" and here's what I found out:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;1. Don't wear bright colored clothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;This gives me the choice of wearing my orange day-glow vest and getting stung by a bee or wearing black and chance getting run over by a semi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;2. Don't wear suntan lotion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Again a choice: Wear suntan lotion and get stung or get skin cancer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;3. Don't smack a bee hive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Okay, that's something I can get behind. But, sheesh! What's a biker to do? Maybe it is the scent of the suntan lotion that attracts the curious bee. I'll have to look for unscented sunblock. As for the orange vest? I'm hoping for the sunblock to be the solution. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-455568630175263464?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/455568630175263464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=455568630175263464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/455568630175263464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/455568630175263464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/08/trying-to-bee-safe.html' title='TRYING TO BEE SAFE'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RsZfmDjmXuI/AAAAAAAAAG8/dCD-wH54TgA/s72-c/BigYellowJacket.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-5586355530655712727</id><published>2007-08-11T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T12:31:09.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PSSSST! YOU'VE GOT A FLAT TIRE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rr4ML-pm6YI/AAAAAAAAAG0/t3BpPcWFMuk/s1600-h/flat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097525228165589378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rr4ML-pm6YI/AAAAAAAAAG0/t3BpPcWFMuk/s320/flat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Riding home from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bethel&lt;/span&gt; School District Thursday afternoon I heard a strange "click" then "scrape" pause "click" then "scrape" pause. I pulled out of the bike lane into a shady driveway in front of a church. I spun the back wheel and sure enough, there was a click and scrape sticking out of my rear tire. The click and scrape was an industrial-sized staple with one pointy end stuck in the tire and the other bend under and up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured I'd have to pull it out, but I was in a nice shady, safe spot to repair the flat. I gently edged out the staple and the tire went "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pssssst&lt;/span&gt;" then stopped. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;. The tire still felt well inflated. I must have been light-headed as I actually thought I might have some special tire or tube that was self-sealing. So I pushed out into the bike lane and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quarter mile further along "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;psssssssssssssssssssssssssssss&lt;/span&gt;" and the tire was flat. But this time I was along Highway 99 with trucks and cars zipping by at 55-60 miles an hour. And no shade. I pulled off the road and about 20 feet down an embankment. It was hot, dusty and dry with brown weeds and dead grass mixed in with the dirt. I longed for my shady spot in front of the church. What was I thinking?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled the wheel off and managed to get the tube out and replaced with my spare. I did this trying to keep my head in the shade of the 55 MPH sign I'd leaned my bike against. I reassembled the bike and felt the newly inflated tire. I was ready to roll &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;albeit&lt;/span&gt; a bit dirty and a lot sweatier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked. I don't have self-sealing anything including my sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-5586355530655712727?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/5586355530655712727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=5586355530655712727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5586355530655712727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5586355530655712727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/08/psssst-youve-got-flat-tire.html' title='PSSSST! YOU&apos;VE GOT A FLAT TIRE'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rr4ML-pm6YI/AAAAAAAAAG0/t3BpPcWFMuk/s72-c/flat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-845253338710762328</id><published>2007-05-05T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T16:49:24.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WILLAMETTE RIVER BIKE PATH</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rj0LrlPzNVI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/TB8QP_vnjCQ/s1600-h/bikepath3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061214399594968402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rj0LrlPzNVI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/TB8QP_vnjCQ/s320/bikepath3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One of the nice things about biking in Eugene is the bike paths along the Willamette River. On my six mile ride to work I am only on the paths for about a mile, but it is a pretty idyllic 5,280 feet. There are birds of all sizes singing, flitting through trees and landing in the water. At one point on the ride I seem to always hear a chickadee. Gulls land in the water and on the small islands. Occasionally I'll see a heron either wading in the water to soaring above the trees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There is also the sound of the river as it moves north through the city. The occasional rapids change both the color and the sound. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061211758190081346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rj0JR1PzNUI/AAAAAAAAAFI/8ptHZcZtFhI/s320/bikepath2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I pass a lot of bikers, joggers, walkers and people just sitting and enjoying the river and its environs. It's nice to greet these people as I ride by. The mostly deciduous trees change from bare to green to yellow through the year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Before I leave the path I cross the river at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Owasso&lt;/span&gt; Bridge, a pedestrian-bike bridge that connects the east side path with the west side. There seems to always be at least one person on the bridge watching the river rush by, sipping coffee or eating a snack. More often than not there are several people there occupying the benches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rj0IfFPzNTI/AAAAAAAAAFA/ZpuVL6PpH9Q/s1600-h/bikepath1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061210886311720242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rj0IfFPzNTI/AAAAAAAAAFA/ZpuVL6PpH9Q/s320/bikepath1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If I need to, the Willamette River bike paths can take me all the way into Eugene after a 1/2 mile ride on the streets. The river flows south to north and cuts Eugene in half. The bike paths are well-maintained and for the most part safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-845253338710762328?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/845253338710762328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=845253338710762328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/845253338710762328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/845253338710762328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/05/willamette-river-bike-path.html' title='WILLAMETTE RIVER BIKE PATH'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rj0LrlPzNVI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/TB8QP_vnjCQ/s72-c/bikepath3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-7481610008192188369</id><published>2007-03-27T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T13:27:48.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STREET PAINT AS SPEED BUMPS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rgl6SdpNX0I/AAAAAAAAAD0/zV26UWSAuZo/s1600-h/bikelane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046699315059056450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rgl6SdpNX0I/AAAAAAAAAD0/zV26UWSAuZo/s320/bikelane.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is amazing what you see, smell, taste and feel when riding a bike. One of the things I've noticed on my commute is street paint. Because Eugene has a lot of bike lanes there are wide white strips of paint separating the traffic lane from the bike lane. There are also "BIke Lane" signs painted on the roadway. Over the years this paint gets repainted many times and it appears that this happens when there is still plenty of paint on the pavement. Paint begins to build up until the paint is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;noticeably&lt;/span&gt; bumpy when riding over it. "BIKE LANE" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thumpity&lt;/span&gt;-thump-thump-thump. Maybe the city repaints it because the paint gets dirty, not because it is wearing off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I've also noticed paint that is chipping away from the 1/8" thick strips. At first I thought it was glass; but the small white chips were just chunks of paint. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;One advantage to the street paint is it's mostly smooth surface. Often I'll ride right on the bike lane stripe as it is the smoothest part of the road. I'm careful to do this when there isn't any traffic in the car lane, however. The bike lanes this time of year tend to collect all the gravel and other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;debris&lt;/span&gt; that is kicked to the side of the road by car traffic. So riding on the strip helps me avoid this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And then the smells: the bakery pumping out whiffs of freshly baked bread; the piles of bark-o-mulch and wood chips; the sewage treatment plant and sometimes the scent of fresh flowers. There are also the sounds of birds along the river, the roar of train engines under the overpass and tapping of rain on my helmet.  Then there is the box of chocolate doughnuts spilled in the bike lane by a passing motorist who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;inadvertently&lt;/span&gt; left them on the car roof when buying coffee and doughnuts at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Speedi&lt;/span&gt;-Mart. No, I wasn't even tempted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-7481610008192188369?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/7481610008192188369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=7481610008192188369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7481610008192188369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7481610008192188369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/03/street-paint-as-speed-bumps.html' title='STREET PAINT AS SPEED BUMPS'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rgl6SdpNX0I/AAAAAAAAAD0/zV26UWSAuZo/s72-c/bikelane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-7045114041253049461</id><published>2007-03-08T12:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T13:05:29.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>STREETSWEEPERS ARE MY IDOLS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RfBwHCpHTVI/AAAAAAAAADc/dY784Erua1w/s1600-h/Street%2520Sweeper%25203.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039651249298296146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RfBwHCpHTVI/AAAAAAAAADc/dY784Erua1w/s200/Street%2520Sweeper%25203.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eugene has bike lanes on most city streets. That's the good news. The bad news is the amount of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;debris that clutters those bike lanes making a bike commute an obstacle course. Enter the city streetsweepers. As a bike commuter, I'm well aware when a streetsweeper has worked on my route. One day it is rocks, branches, glass, dead animals and the occasional soda can. The  next morning it is smooth sailing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;I called the supervisor of streetsweepers to compliment the great work they do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt; The other day there was a large ceramic vase smashed to pieces right in the middle of the bike lane. Over a few days the pieces of pottery as well as the wiring got ground into smaller and smaller pieces. Still it was something I had to ride around by going into the traffic lane. And therein lies the problem. You can just plow through all the debris, but you risk both flat tires and losing your balance. More realistically you keep one eye on the bike lane ahead and the other in your rearview mirrow to be alert to following traffic in case you need to move into the traffic lane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;And what's the worst things to have in your path? Well, it isn't glass. Beside objects the size of a small safe, the worst things are blackberry vines. Those thorns can give you a flat almost instantly. And Oregon is the home for wild blackberries growing in every vacant lot and unmaintained roadside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;I wonder what the streetsweepers' schedules look like? Do they  take requests? It would almost be worth knowing their schedule and then adjusting my commute to follow the cleanest lanes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-7045114041253049461?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/7045114041253049461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=7045114041253049461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7045114041253049461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7045114041253049461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/03/streetsweepers-are-my-idols.html' title='STREETSWEEPERS ARE MY IDOLS'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RfBwHCpHTVI/AAAAAAAAADc/dY784Erua1w/s72-c/Street%2520Sweeper%25203.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-3163489526805983549</id><published>2007-02-21T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T12:53:40.222-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY AL GORE COST ME $294</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rdy-ouLZGzI/AAAAAAAAADE/l6H8QKT6M7I/s1600-h/Gore_Al.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034108090293230386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rdy-ouLZGzI/AAAAAAAAADE/l6H8QKT6M7I/s320/Gore_Al.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After seeing "An Inconvenient Truth" last summer, I dedicated myself again to riding my bike to work everyday weather permitting. I figured it would be just my tiny contribution to reducing greenhouse gases.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cleaned off my ten speed bike that I was using mostly for exercise riding around the neighborhood for 25-30 minutes several times a week. It is a Schwinn Super &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;L'Toure&lt;/span&gt; circa 1976. I've treated it pretty well by periodically replacing tires, worn components and accessories and keeping it clean. My bike shoes, however, were also from 1976, a pair of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bata&lt;/span&gt; Bikers. These low profile canvas and rubber shoes were light and narrow and worked great with toe clips. But they were visibly rotting off my feet. So my first purchase:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shimano&lt;/span&gt; Cycling Shoes $80&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got the shoes home and tried them on. They were terrific! A bit heavier than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bata&lt;/span&gt; Bikers, but they were sturdier and would keep my feet dry and warm in inclement weather. The problem was they didn't fit in the toe clips. They are made for pedal cleats, although you can wear them without the cleats. Next purchase:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;New Pedals and Cleats: $50&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the cleats. They keep your feet locked to the pedals which makes riding easier. Contrary to what people told me, they have an easy and quick release. So far I haven't fallen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to carry my laptop with me so I started using a backpack. This was okay, but it made me top-heavy and my back was pretty sweaty by the time I got to work. My rear panniers are also 30 years old and very worn and dirty. I started looking for replacements that would also hold a laptop. There are some that do that, but they tend to be really bulky. I needed a waterproof bag and those were often rubbery, heavy and didn't maintain a shape. So I ended up going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;REI&lt;/span&gt; and buying:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Detour Panniers: $70&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These panniers, discussed in the first blog entry, were neither waterproof nor made to hold a computer. However, they did come with waterproof covers you can quickly slip on should the rain start to fall. That leaves the problem of the laptop. I took one pannier and my laptop to a local company that sells foam, and they fabricated a:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;stiff foam sleeve $7&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;for the pannier that fit like a glove and held the laptop that was inside a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;neopreen&lt;/span&gt; cover and inside a waterproof plastic bag. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where to carry my glasses, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Powerbar&lt;/span&gt;, extra gloves, etc.? My old handlebar bag had long ago bitten the dust, so I looked around locally and bought a new:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Handlebar bag: $36&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On my first early morning commute in November I strapped on my arm light and hooked my rear amber blinking light to the pannier rack. These, being 30 years old also, were so dim as to almost not be seen. So off again to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;REI&lt;/span&gt; for a:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;White front light: $25&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rear red blinking light: $10&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, if you read an earlier post, I'd lost my pump, so back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;REI&lt;/span&gt; (I'm on a first name basis by now with the bike guys) for a:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Small hand pump $16&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cost to get me back on my bike: $294&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A cleaner environment: Priceless!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-3163489526805983549?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/3163489526805983549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=3163489526805983549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/3163489526805983549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/3163489526805983549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/02/why-al-gore-cost-me-294.html' title='WHY AL GORE COST ME $294'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rdy-ouLZGzI/AAAAAAAAADE/l6H8QKT6M7I/s72-c/Gore_Al.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-5837709298733502427</id><published>2007-02-02T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T15:41:55.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SQUEAKS, CLICKS AND OTHER ANNOYANCES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RcOhPdT6m7I/AAAAAAAAACg/Wen15-bhFHk/s1600-h/bikeseat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027038896013876146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RcOhPdT6m7I/AAAAAAAAACg/Wen15-bhFHk/s320/bikeseat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing is more satisfying than riding along on my bike with only the noise of the tires swooshing along the pavement and the wind whistling by my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;helmet&lt;/span&gt;. Much less satisfying is the annoying squeaks and clicks that sometimes occur from lose parts, worn parts or things dangling in front of moving parts. I'm pretty much obsessive-compulsive when it comes to disallowing my bike to talk back. A previous post talked about repacking my bottom bracket to eliminate an annoying squeaking sound. Read on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After repacking the bracket, the squeak returned. I'd pedal and the squeak would rear it's ugliness. I'd stop pedalling and the squeak would hide. Pedal, squeak. Pedal, squeak. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;? I went out for a leisurely ride and listened intently trying to lean forward to isolate the sound. It was below me somewhere and not around the front wheel. Because I heard it when I pedaled, I was convinced that it had to be in the drive mechanism somewhere. I got off my bike to inspect it and leaned against the saddle (see above). Squeak. My seat? The nerve! I got on and pedaled away. Pedal, squeak. Pedal, squeak. Each time I pushed the pedal down, my butt moved left then right causing the seat to squeak. A cheek squeak!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I looked under the seat and didn't see anything loose. I spray &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;WD&lt;/span&gt;40 around the inner workings of the seat. I got back on and pedaled hard. Pedal, squeak. Pedal, squeak. Finally I pressed down with first my right cheek and then my left. Pedal, silence. Pedal, silence. Success!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like riding in the cold weather because I have a knit cap and hooded sweatshirt over my ears and I can't hear as well. Pedal, can't hear anything. Pedal, can't hear anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-5837709298733502427?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/5837709298733502427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=5837709298733502427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5837709298733502427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5837709298733502427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/02/squeaks-clicks-and-other-annoyances.html' title='SQUEAKS, CLICKS AND OTHER ANNOYANCES'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RcOhPdT6m7I/AAAAAAAAACg/Wen15-bhFHk/s72-c/bikeseat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-2240979853953739700</id><published>2007-01-22T19:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T19:14:13.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazed Criminals or Environmental Health Nuts?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RbV9cYceI6I/AAAAAAAAACI/94ilWm_msA8/s1600-h/biker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023058885953332130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px" height="223" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RbV9cYceI6I/AAAAAAAAACI/94ilWm_msA8/s320/biker.jpg" width="256" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a work colleague who thinks all bike riders are crazed law-breaking maniacs. My colleague's view is supported by what my colleague sees driving to work everyday. This might be one of those cases where we see what supports our views and we disregard the rest. There is an axiom in baseball that a player who makes a great play in the field will more often than chance lead off the next inning. I've heard announcers and baseball aficionados swear that it happens so often that it is truly amazing. A group of baseball statisticians decided to look into that scenario and found out that it happens a little less than chance. So why do people think it happens so often? I think that events that support your world view tend to stick while those that don't slip by. You buy a new red Toyota truck and pretty soon you're seein' 'em all over the place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tend to pass 10-15 bike riders a day on my commute. And, besides the occasional person riding the wrong way in the bike lane and forcing a game of chicken on me, I seldom see anyone breaking the law on a two wheeler. Probably the same forces are working on my perception as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-2240979853953739700?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/2240979853953739700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=2240979853953739700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/2240979853953739700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/2240979853953739700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/01/crazed-criminals-or-environmental.html' title='Crazed Criminals or Environmental Health Nuts?'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RbV9cYceI6I/AAAAAAAAACI/94ilWm_msA8/s72-c/biker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-3663969918104858605</id><published>2007-01-14T14:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T14:43:58.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOSING ONE'S BEARING</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqxTcJtZ-I/AAAAAAAAABk/23CBDAvxjKA/s1600-h/bottombracket.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020019682190387170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqxTcJtZ-I/AAAAAAAAABk/23CBDAvxjKA/s200/bottombracket.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I can't remember the last time I packed the bearings in my bike's bottom bracket. Probably 3 years ago. So here goes. I took the crank arms off with the extractor (a clever device if there every was one) and then unscrewed the lock nut on the bottom bracket. Finally I unscrewed the removable bearing cup on the left side of the bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The grease was old and there wasn't enough there so it was way past time to repack the bracket. I pulled all 22 bearings out . . . 11 from each side. . . and washed them in paint thinner. I thoroughly cleaned the inside of the bottom bracket, the removable cup and the fixed cup examing both for wear. I then repacked each cup with a ton of grease. I turned the bike on its right side and positioned 11 bearings in the fixed cup. I slid the axel in so that the bearings would stay in place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I next placed the removable cup's bearings and carefully screwed the cup back on trying not to jar any of the bearings loose. Once I had adusted the bearing cup and the lock nut, I replaced the crank arms on both sides. It was then that I noticed a lone bearing lying on the cloth I used to clean bearings. Aaarrgghhh!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So . . . starting over. . . I had to redo the entire process; but the bike is back in action and the bearings are all in place enjoying a bath of grease.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-3663969918104858605?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/3663969918104858605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=3663969918104858605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/3663969918104858605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/3663969918104858605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/01/losing-ones-bearing.html' title='LOSING ONE&apos;S BEARING'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqxTcJtZ-I/AAAAAAAAABk/23CBDAvxjKA/s72-c/bottombracket.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-5566109807637648904</id><published>2007-01-14T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T14:30:45.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHAT TO DO WHEN IT SNOWS?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqtpcJtZ9I/AAAAAAAAABY/pwWSYACkqGk/s1600-h/snow2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020015662100998098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqtpcJtZ9I/AAAAAAAAABY/pwWSYACkqGk/s200/snow2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had three inches of snow Thursday and there is still snow on the ground three days later although the streets are bare and dry. Consequently I did not ride my bike to work on Thursday with temperatures in the mid 20's and snow and ice on the streets and bike paths.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What do bike commuters do when it snows? Do mountain bikes stay upright in a light snow? And then there is the matter of staying warm. I've been wearing tights and then shorts over the tights. That seems to keep my legs (that are in motion) warm most of the time. I also wear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;insulated&lt;/span&gt; socks under wool socks. My bike shoes are sturdy and warm without vent holes. I then wear a t-shirt under a tight-fitting hooded shirt, a light sweatshirt and finally a waterproof jacket. I wear a knit cap under my helmet and sometimes the hood to my thin, tight fitting shirt. That usually is an overkill and I'm too warm 20 minutes into my ride. But in the first few miles it feels great!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-5566109807637648904?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/5566109807637648904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=5566109807637648904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5566109807637648904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/5566109807637648904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-to-do-when-it-snows.html' title='WHAT TO DO WHEN IT SNOWS?'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqtpcJtZ9I/AAAAAAAAABY/pwWSYACkqGk/s72-c/snow2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-941064020391723088</id><published>2007-01-08T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T20:10:13.597-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AND THEN IT WENT FLAT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rar-CMJtZ_I/AAAAAAAAABw/dnnvVjDbAcA/s1600-h/flattire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020104048232982514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rar-CMJtZ_I/AAAAAAAAABw/dnnvVjDbAcA/s200/flattire.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We've had a ton of rain the past few days. Florence had 4.5 inches in 24 hours and part of Highway 26 was flooded. So I was watching the skies early this morning to see if I could ride to work. About 7:45, when I had to make a decision to drive or bike, the rain stopped and off I went. . . blinkin' away. When I got about 1/4 mile down the bike path, the path was closed due to flooding. I've seen the sign and the gate before, but wondered how often they close the gate. The path dips down by the river at that point and there was a couple feet of water covering that area. The detour was short just taking me onto a residential street for two blocks and then right back onto the path.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As I crossed the Willamette River I could see how swollen it was with brown water up to the top of its banks. A minute or so later a light rain started to fall so I pulled under a bus shelter to get my pancho on. But then the rain abruptly stopped so I continued on my way to Work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off and on during the morning it poured. But around 12:15 it let up and the sky lightened so I got my bike gear on and headed home. I was on Maxwell Road bridge crossing over the railroad tracks when I got a flat tire. I haven't had a flat in a long time; fortunately I had both a patch kit and a spare tube. Because it was looking like rain again, I opted to put on the new tube. I was so proud of myself for 1) having the extra tube with me and 2) knowing how to quickly change it. That pride preceeded a fall when I noticed I didn't have my pump with me. Oooof! I watched a couple of bikers go by but none stopped or looked like they had a pump on board. There are two gas stations about 1-1.5 miles back toward work, but there's no guarantee that they had an air pump. Most stations don't. So I started pushing my bike East on Maxwell toward home figuring I could get over to River Road and head north and maybe go to Les Schwabs.&lt;br /&gt;About 1/10 of a mile into my walk I saw what used to be a gas station. It was surrounded with a high black chainlink fence and the front gate was locked with a huge chain and padlock. On the side of the building was hand painted "Online Auto Auction". The small buildiing was surrounded with cars. I noticed that there was a light on in the former gas station office so I pushed around to the side of the property and found a gate that was open. As I pushed my bike into the lot, a guy came out of the office locking the door. I asked him if he had an air pump I could use to inflate my tire. He hedged for a minute saying he was late for a meeting, but then said that he had a compressor in his office and it might work. In a few seconds he was back with the compressor that he said had a low battery. But it was enough to get my tire pumped up and I was able to continue home and avoid the rain. I thanked him for his kindness and told him I would pass on an act of kindness to someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-941064020391723088?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/941064020391723088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=941064020391723088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/941064020391723088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/941064020391723088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/01/and-then-it-went-flat.html' title='AND THEN IT WENT FLAT'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/Rar-CMJtZ_I/AAAAAAAAABw/dnnvVjDbAcA/s72-c/flattire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2760284551374675411.post-7990482354572233235</id><published>2007-01-08T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T14:20:19.626-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comuting with a laptop'/><title type='text'>Hauling a Laptop Onboard</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;As a bicycle commuter I've always needed to have my laptop with me. Until now I've carried it in a backpack. This hasn't worked out too well for a number of reasons. First it makes my center of gravity too high; secondly, it makes my back sweaty on warmer days, thirdly, it doesn't allow my reflective vest to show on my back; and finally, when I wear my rain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;poncho&lt;/span&gt;, the backpack keeps the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;poncho&lt;/span&gt; from covering my seat and my bike seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched in local bike shops and online for a bike bag or set of panniers that would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;accommodate&lt;/span&gt; a laptop and provide protection from bumps and water. I found one that was pretty expensive but it was also too big and I'd have a hard time clearing my heals with it hanging on my bike rack. They do sell padded sleeves for laptops, but they didn't look sturdy enough and I'd probably need to add extra padding to keep the sleeve from bouncing around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally decided on a DetoursTransit Tour set of panniers. They are water &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;resistant&lt;/span&gt; not waterproof, but do come with waterproof covers that store in the top pocket of each pannier. They were also about the right size to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;accommodate&lt;/span&gt; some foam padding and my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqsgcJtZ8I/AAAAAAAAABM/LkQGpJqg5As/s1600-h/computerincase.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020014407970547650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqsgcJtZ8I/AAAAAAAAABM/LkQGpJqg5As/s200/computerincase.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went to a local store that sells foam and they built a custom sleeve out of very dense &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;polyurethane&lt;/span&gt; for only $7. They glued it together and I reinforced it with some duct tape. It fits like a glove into my pannier; and my laptop, in its tight-fitting neoprene cover and a plastic bag, fit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;snugly&lt;/span&gt; into the sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's link to photographs of the new bags and computer sleeve:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.timgosswatercolors.com/panniers"&gt;http://www.timgosswatercolors.com/panniers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2760284551374675411-7990482354572233235?l=cyclingtowork.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/feeds/7990482354572233235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2760284551374675411&amp;postID=7990482354572233235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7990482354572233235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2760284551374675411/posts/default/7990482354572233235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cyclingtowork.blogspot.com/2007/01/hauling-laptop-onboard.html' title='Hauling a Laptop Onboard'/><author><name>Tim Goss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14453705676372851373</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/TD3CDuHxdrI/AAAAAAAABuA/yxdXZfOAyYE/S220/IMG_2654.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0TlP3hy3bRs/RaqsgcJtZ8I/AAAAAAAAABM/LkQGpJqg5As/s72-c/computerincase.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
