Product Review: The Winter Beard

With winter in full swing here in New England, increasing numbers of gentlemen cyclists sport a popular cold weather accessory: the winter beard. Even for those normally clean shaven, this effective and budget-friendly solution can be hard to resist once the frost sets in.

Having surveyed a number of male cyclists, the most popular means of obtaining a winter beard seems to be the DIY method: Simply stop shaving your face, and in as little as a week you could find yourself in possession of a modest to moderate wooly facial appendage. In weather that's merely cool, that might very well suffice. In harsh winter climates, continue growing to taste, or until coworkers/ loved ones begin to complain. To shorten or shape, use a beard trimmer.

Maintaining your winter beard is simple: Handwash with soap and water, and check for trapped food particles after meals. If you notice people staring at the lower half of your face in disgust, you may not be performing these maintenance tasks diligently enough. Otherwise, you are probably fine.

The winter beard has many benefits. It is temperature-regulating, wind-proof, breathable and quick drying - more so than any wool or synthetic balaclava on the market. It is natural, organic, and ethically grown. It is inexpensive. You are unlikely to lose it or leave home without it. And it colour coordinates with any outfit.

Possible drawbacks include extra maintenance, and potential protests from your significant other. In the event of the latter, I suggest pointing out the communal usefulness of your beard: For instance, it can function as a loofa-like facial exfoliant for your spouse, or a scratching post for your cat.

In growing your winter beard, pay attention not only to length, but to total area of coverage: The most effective beards are as thick nearer to the neck as they are at the chin, providing the warmth of an extra scarf.

And finally, do exercise moderation. Local cartoono-anthropologist has documented breakouts of Competitive Beard Growing disorder among cyclists in winter, which are not without side-effects. Sure your luscious facial locks might impress your friends and terrify your enemies, but if a beard is long enough to get stuck in your bicycle's components, you have gone too far.

Categories: Co-Habitant, product reviews, silliness, winter cycling

When Spouses Worry About Cyclists

I get a fair number of questions from readers - and, interestingly, only heterosexual men so far - asking for advice on how to deal with spouses worrying about them cycling. Some describe situations where wives implore them not to go on club rides, or are against them riding for transportation. Other stories are less dramatic, but nonetheless involve an overabundance of spousal distress that in turn makes the cyclist feel guilty. Doesn't my husband worry, they ask? What do I say to ease his mind? 

Of course my situation is different, in that my husband is himself a cyclist. His understanding of what riding a bicycle entails is based on reality and not on the negative portrayals of it in the media. Still he does worry about me at times, especially when I go off with riders whose speed and skills far exceed my own. He deals with his concerns by asking me questions and trying to gauge how prepared I am for the ride and how well I myself understand the risks. And I admit that I worry about him too. While he rides considerably fewer miles than I do, I would describe him as more of a risk-taker. If he is late coming home from work, I worry. 

It could be that this is the essence of spousal worry: Perceptions of risk. Do wives tend to perceive their husbands as risk-takers more so than the other way around? It would explain why I never hear from women complaining that their husbands worry too much. It could also be that, for whatever reason, female cyclists are more likely to have spouses who also ride bikes. 

Either way, unfortunately I am not certain what to suggest here. You could reason with your spouse using statistics, descriptions of how safe your route is and how careful you are - but when fears are irrational this does not always work. Attempts to get your spouse into cycling could do the trick, but could also backfire if they try it and find it frightening. Showing them entertaining materials (films, books, pictures, blogs?) that depict cycling as safe and fun could be a way to go, but how exactly this could be implemented is not clear to me. 

While we all want to be free to do as we like, we also don't want to drive our loved ones sick with concern for our safety. It would be good to hear from readers who've gone through this type of situation and resolved it successfully. 

Categories: Co-Habitant, roadcycling, safety, traffic, transportation options

The Brompton: an Owner's Impression

A few months ago we became owners of Brompton folding bikes. I am still surprised and a little embarrassed by how much I like my bike. Why that mix of emotions? Well, because I cannot really take credit for this purchase or for the specs - it was mostly the Co-Habitant's idea! Don't get me wrong: I've been admiring the Brompton for years and have written about it here wistfully. I've even taken one on an extended test ride last summer. In the end I was not convinced that I actually needed or wanted to own a Brompton. But the Co-Habitant was, and he argued that it made sense for us to both get them at the same time. Since he felt strongly about it I ultimately agreed, though remained nervous that my use of the bike might not justify the purchase. I now ride the Brompton nearly every day. Funny that something I was not sure I needed can now feel indispensable.

Designed by engineer Andrew Ritchie, the Brompton is a British folding bicycle that has been in continuous production since 1987 and has remained largely unchanged since. You can read about the history here. There are many folding bikes on the market these days, but the Brompton is said to offer the most compact and easiest fold, with the durability and speed of a full-sized bike. The Brompton has 16" wheels and a hinged "unitube" frame. The construction is brazed steel, with the option of titanium extremities (fork and rear triangle) occasionally available via special order. The bike is optimised to carry a front load with low-trail geometry. The frames are hand-made in Brompton's factory near London. The wheels are built in Wolverhampton. Components are sourced from a variety of manufacturers including Sturmey Archer and SKS, 80% of the components being Brompton-specific in design. A selection of colours, handlebar setups, gearing options and accessories is available.

Our bikes ended up being identical except for the saddles and seatposts. The model is the Brompton M6L-X. This is code for the bikes having upright handlebars, fenders, 6 speeds, and titanium extremities. The finish is raw lacquer. The tires are Schwalbe Kojaks. The bikes are fitted with SON/ Lumotec IQ Cyo dynamo lighting. The Ti and SON specs were to save weight, improve ride quality, and have the best available lighting system. The raw lacquer we chose simply because we both love the look. Going with the 6-speed gearing option and choosing the lowered (-12%) gearing was a decision based on the advice of Todd from Clever Cycles in Oregon, who has toured on his own Brompton extensively. We did not want to make our bikes touring-specific, but we wanted the option of riding them in hilly areas.

We chose the M-type model, because we both prefer upright handlebars when riding for transportation. Since handlebar height is mostly non-adjustable once you choose the model, the rider's positioning on the bike depends on saddle placement. I am just under 5'7" and with the M model my handlebars are almost 2" above saddle height. He is just over 6' and his handlebars are ever so slightly below saddle height, for a more aggressive position.

As far as accessories, we share a shopping basket and each have a Carradice City Folder front bag. The shopping basket is a big, open container with handles. The Carradice City Folder is a large office bag, with a padded laptop compartment, plenty of room for other things such as books, clothing and camera equipment, and two rider-facing pockets each large enough to fit a water bottle (or coffee cup!). I have lots more to say about this bag and will post a review soon. But no matter which Brompton bag one chooses, the system is easy to use. A front block must be installed on the bicycle's frame, and the bag or basket simply clicks onto it via an internal rack-like frame structure. The attachment system - consisting of the block, the "socket" that accepts the block, and the rack-like frame that extends from the socket - is rigid and solid. The bag does not budge once attached. We opted not to install rear racks, figuring the front bags - supplemented with saddlebags when necessary - would meet our needs. We can always add rear racks later if we feel it necessary.

Not to overstate the obvious, but the Brompton is a very compact bicycle. It can be folded to different extents, including the "sit" fold that stabilises the bike as a kickstand would, the "shopping cart" fold that allows it to be rolled around by the handlebars (with basket attached, the bike turns into a shopping cart), and the complete fold shown here. After some practice, it takes me less than a minute to do the complete fold. The small fold makes it suitable for travel like no other folding bike.

The compactness isn't just for travel and multi-modal commuting. The bike is light (compared to other city bikes) and easy to carry in and out of the house even in its unfolded state, which is especially practical for city dwellers who live up several flights of stairs and for those who wish to keep their bike in their office instead of parked outdoors for hours in an unsafe neighbourhood. I very rarely do multi-modal commuting unless I am traveling, but I still find the compactness useful for these reasons. Somehow, a small bike is an easy bike and I am enjoying this much more than I anticipated.

Of course, I am taking advantage of the fold as well. We have not owned a car for close to two years now, and it hasn't been simple to travel with two full sized bikes. The Bromptons will fit into any Zipcar without requiring bike racks or an oversized car, and they can go on any train, even at the most crowded of times.

But what surprised me about the Brompton was not the compact fold, which I'd already known about. It was the features that distinguish it as a bike, not just as a folding bike. For instance, I had not fully understood previously how well it works for riding in everyday clothing. My positioning is upright. The frame's unitube is so low, the bike is essentially a step-through - no more difficult to mount/dismount than a loop frame. It has fenders and even tiny mudflaps. The wheels are so small and far down that even without dressguards my skirt doesn't go anywhere near the spokes. The crankset has a built-in chainguard, which is not an enclosed chaincase but good enough. The quick-release seat post is great for wearing shoes with different heel heights: Instead of setting my saddle for the flattest pair of shoes I own and then feeling as if my knees bend too much when I wear heels, I can simply adjust the saddle to whatever height I want for every ride. I can wear any outfit I want on this bike and not feel limited.

Then there is the cargo capacity. The Brompton can carry a surprising amount of stuff in the front, with no detectable impact on handling. I can carry all of my camera equipment - medium format clunkers, flash units, whatever - on the bike in a way that feels stable, safe and comfortable, not precarious or dis-balancing. Ditto with art supplies - heavy paint, primer, stacks of wooden panels. No problem. It just works and my balance on the bike is not affected. Essentially I now own a cargo bike that is sufficient for my needs.

When considering the Brompton, I worried about the handling and ride quality. I ride my bikes a lot. The kind of work I do, I don't just go to an office in the morning and back at night; I might ride from place to place all day and some of my destinations are 10+ miles apart. For that reason, a bike that is easy to transport but does not ride well is useless to me. When I test-rode the Brompton, its handling struck me as peculiar (the front end felt weirdly wobbly) and I was not sure whether I'd be able to get used to it. Even after a couple of days test riding it, I remained unsure. It took me about a week of owning the bike to truly get used to it, but once I did I started to prefer the handling over other bikes - especially in the city. The Brompton is easier for me to maneuver through tight spaces, easier to U-turn than other bikes, just somehow easier to handle all around. I no longer feel the "weird wobbly" sensation. When I later learned that Bromptons have low trail, it made sense.

It is a common complaint that small wheel bikes feel harsh. I was concerned about this, and together with the MTB-style hand position of the Brompton's handlebars, it just seemed like asking for trouble. I have nerve damage in my hands and am usually unable to ride in this hand position, especially if a bike's ride quality is harsh. I could just imagine my hands going numb after 10 miles (it has happened on other bikes after much shorter distances). However, I have experienced no problems with harshness or numbness on the Brompton, and do not know how to explain why not. I do not think it is attributable entirely to the Ti bits, but it could be the combination of that and the geometry. In any case, my longest single Brompton ride so far has been 45 miles (sandwiched between two 30-mile days) and I have yet to experience any discomfort so far.

As far as speed and the bike's ability to tackle hills, I would describe it as being more like a roadbike than a city bike. That does not mean it is quite as fast as a roadbike. But with the lowered wide range 6-speed gearing it can handle the same type of terrain. It takes me longer to climb on the Brompton, but I can do it, even with my decidedly upright position. Opting for a model with lower handlebars (the S-type) would have made it even more aggressive.

Finally, the Brompton has done better than I imagined it would off road. The handling feels intuitive on dirt and gravel, and the Schwalbe Kojak tires feel wider than the 32mm they are. The small size and the low step-over on the bike somehow makes me feel as if I'll be able to bail easier in the event of a "wipeout," which in turn makes me more confident. The most challenging off road ride I have done so far has been on the Brompton.

While the Co-Habitant does not have as many miles on his bike as I do on mine, he has been commuting on it more or less daily, with his 3-year old Pashley Roadster now an inclement weather/ winter bike. Like me, he likes the Brompton's handling and ride quality more than he expected to, and the more he rides it the more he likes it. He is also very happy that he can easily keep the Brompton in his office and take it with him everywhere he goes. He hates leaving his bike locked up outside, and now he does not have to. The Brompton has little wheels that allow it to be rolled around in "grocery cart mode," but when grocery shopping he often just rolls the bike in unfolded, piles food into the basket, and checks out and rides off, without anyone objecting (not all stores permit this, but the one next to our house does). Like me, he is impressed by the front load system - its carry capacity, simplicity, lack of extra weight and bulk, and low to the ground positioning. He agrees that carrying weight on this bike has no effect on steering or handling. He likes how the bike rides off-road. They've been resurfacing streets in our neighbourhood, leaving stretches of road without asphalt for days, and the Brompton rides nicely over the baselayer. He finds the bike maneuverable, easily able to make sharp turns and go around obstacles, hop curbs (I can't vouch for that one). In a general sense, what he likes is that performance-wise the Brompton does not feel to him like a compromise compared to a full sized bike. The one exception he is not crazy about, is the downhill handling - which he says is "more fun" on his full-sized bikes - though personally I do not feel that way.

One unexpected outcome of owning the Bromptons, is that we feel well-matched on them in terms of riding style. We are finding that it's easier to ride together on these bikes than either to go roadcycling or to ride our full-sizd city bikes together. So after a break of many months we've started doing recreational rides together again. The Bromptons handle hills well enough for us to do the same routes as we would on roadbikes, only slower. Now we ride side by side and talk more than we ever used to. I am not sure what about these bikes is causing this harmony exactly, but possibly it's the handling. 

As far as the Brompton's drawbacks, the main one for me is that there are times when I find carrying it around inconvenient. At over 20lb, it is not exactly a light bike for someone of my size to carry casually in one hand for prolonged periods of time, and it is not always practical to deploy the easy-wheels and roll it around (some shops and offices won't allow it). The good news is that after being forced to carry it frequently during my trip in Ireland, I now have more upper body strength and can deal with this better than I used to. Still, I do not see the Brompton being my sole transportation bike; I need a full-sized bike to supplement it for times when I prefer to leave my bike outside. Right now I ride the Brompton most of the time, supplementing it with my vintage Raleigh when I need a full-sized bike. I know there are debates as to whether it's okay to leave a Brompton locked up outdoors, and maybe some day I will feel comfortable doing that. But at the moment I do not.

As far as quality, malfunctions, and things of that nature, it is probably too early to tell. Both of us had issues with seatposts slipping when we first got the bikes. In my case, simply tightening the clamp resolved this (the quick release is harder to use now, but still doable). The Co-Habitant uses an anti-slip paste in addition to having tightened the clamp. During my stay in Ireland, my gears went out of adjustment and a couple of clamps rattled loose, possibly during one of my off-road rides. Chris Sharp of the VCC Northern Ireland (who owns a Brompton as well) was kind enough to re-tighten everything for me. He tells me this is not uncommon in his experience, and that he uses Loctite or similar on his own bike.

A less serious complaint pertains to how much of a spectacle riding the Brompton is. I am a fairly private person in real-life and these bikes garner a lot of attention. Crowds gather to watch me fold and unfold the bike. Children point and shout "Mommy, look!" as I ride by. Strangers approach to ask what the bike is, then ask to spell it and actually write the name down on a little notepad. It can get out of hand, and of course when the two of us are riding the bikes together it is even more of a sight.

Then there is the "clown bike" aspect of it. While I find the Brompton to be adorable, in a cartoony forest animal kind of way, I am pretty sure that I look ridiculous riding it. Unfortunately I have lost all sense of perspective at this stage. Worse, I really don't think I care.

So here I am, riding my lovely weird little folding bike and enjoying it very much so far. Other than using my own saddle, I have not made any modifications yet and am even using the stock foam grips without issue. At some point I will think of something to personalise my bike, but it is not a priority at the moment.

As a bike that's a mechanical curiosity, the Brompton invites elaborate technical analysis, but I've tried to steer away from that here. While I appreciate that aspect of the Brompton, it is only one of the things that attracts me to it. I like it not just for its multimodal commuting and easy-travel properties, but as a regular bike. That is what I most wanted to communicate at this stage.

Categories: bicycle reviews, Brompton, Co-Habitant

The 'Psychic Spouse' Fallacy

Talking to people who cycle with their spouse, I consistently discover for how many couples this does not really work. Despite both partners being into cycling, they just can't ride with each other - to the point than they each go off with separate cycling clubs or riding partners. After nearly three years of cycling together, I have to say that the Co-Habitant and I are sort of in that category. We do ride together, and it can be nice. But we seem to have such different approaches and styles, that it can get overwhelming. When two people are compatible as romantic partners, how can it be difficult to ride together?

A fellow cyclist recently voiced a theory that I think may hit the mark. Romantic partners - and particularly those who have been together for a long time - tend to function on the assumption that their spouse is at least somewhat "psychic" when it comes to gauging their intentions and needs. This comes from living together long enough to understand each other without having to explicitly spell everything out. And it then gets falsely transferred to cycling. Whereas with a stranger, we would never assume that they can anticipate a maneuver which we do not signal, or will experience energy bursts at the same time as us, or will know which way to go at an intersection if the route is new to them, with a spouse we sometimes do erroneously assume exactly that, without even realising it. The spouse is sort of like an extension of ourselves, and therefore is expected to "just know" these things... But of course they can't possibly know things like when you intend to turn left, or stop for water, or whether you prefer to weave through traffic vs wait it out, or whether you feel up to climbing that next hill. Is it possible to treat your spouse as you would a stranger when you ride together, without assumptions about them intuitively understanding you? I don't know, but it's an interesting idea. At least it might help to keep in mind that your spouse is not actually psychic.

Categories: Co-Habitant, social commentary

Motobecane Grand Touring, Town & Country Edition

The Co-Habitant has been riding his Motobecane redux creation for the past month, and as far as what he was looking for it is a mission accomplished: The bike is nice enough to enjoy riding, but not so nice that he is unwilling to leave it locked up in the city. 

This project started out as a game of sorts, where the idea was to build up a complete bike using only parts we already had.

The frame is a Motobecane Grand Touring that an acquaintance gave the Co-Habitant a year ago. Made of Vitus 888 tubing, it is nicer than the Super Mirage model of his former roadbike. Being a touring frame, it is also somewhat more relaxed, so it made sense to build it up as a transportation bicycle.  

Many of the components were moved over from the other Motobecane frame. 

Others had been acquired in the past, waiting for the right project. It was particularly nice to finally have occasion to use these original Belleri handlebars. Surprisingly, they fit bar-end shifters. The combination looks eccentric, but it's convenient. The stem could be longer, but this one was already filed down to accommodate the French  sizing, and we did not want to ruin another one.

Fizik handlebar tape, in brown. The only exception to the "must already own it" rule, I bought this in Vienna (the brown and honey colours are not sold int he US). "City" brake levers from Velo Orange - these are very convincingly "vintagey."

The least vintagey part of the bike is the Sugino Alpina crankset. We figure that the out of place crankset and bar-ends lend a sense of humor to a bike that may otherwise have come across as too perfectly French. This way it feels more approachable. 

Speaking of approachable, initially we were not sure whether this vintage Brooks Colt I'd acquired some time ago could ever be made ridable, as it had a nasty ridge along the center. I'd tried the "blocking" (water soaking) method, but the ridge persisted. However, the Co-Habitant managed to flattened it after a couple of rides on the water-softened leather and reports that it is now quite comfortable. 

He mounted a Spanniga Pixeo tail light on the rear fender, and uses a removable CayEye headlight on the handlebars.

In the future there might be a rear rack in this bicycle's future, but for now it sports a roomy (but rather inconvenient to open and close) Minnehaha saddlebag.

I have to say that I am thoroughly enjoying the existance of this bicycle: Finally we can go out and leave our bikes locked up in the city for hours, without the Co-Habitant constantly worrying about his. It is by no means a "beater," but it is sufficiently unprecious for him to relax about its fate.

An additional benefit of having built up this bike, is that it showed us how different two models from the same manufacturer and vintage could be. This Grand Touring frame is exactly the same size as his former Super Mirage, but the front wheel on this bike is considerably "further out" - probably a combination of a more relaxed headtube angle and more fork rake. Unfortunately, he no longer has the other frame to compare exact measurements or to photograph them side-by-side. And while he expected for a bike with Vitus 888 tubing to feel nicer than a hi-ten bike, the difference between the two (with the same wheelset and tires) still managed to surprise him. The ride is considerably cushier and the bicycle is much lighter in weight (26lb with the build shown, not including the saddlebag). Having ridden this bike myself and enjoyed it a lot more than any other '70s-80s Motobecane bike I'd tried earlier, I am now curious to try the mixte version. A number of readers have written me about being disappointed with the ride quality of the vintage French bikes that one typically finds for sale in the US, so this might be a good model to look for. More pictures of this bicycle here, for anyone interested.

Categories: Co-Habitant, DIY, Motobecane, vintage

The Bike Aquatic

Our latest trip along the coast was of the epically off-road variety.

Behold the single speed aquatic tandem recumbent, a.k.a. pedal boat! Isn't she a beauty? When I was growing up, we used to pedal these things around small lakes, but I had no idea they could be taken out into the ocean. Turns out there is a whole culture out there of self-propelled ocean travel, including transatlantic voyages. The boats used for those are a tad more sophisticated, but this one is just fine for pedaling leisurely along the coast.

The local rental place assured us that these boats are marvelously stable and virtually impossible to flip over. We experimented, and are pleased to confirm this. Very safe and reliable, even in turbulent water.

Operating the pedal boat was much more effortful than we expected! Ocean water is rougher than lake water, and pedaling this thing felt like riding a single speed bicycle that is geared way too high.

Feeling as if we were treading through thick mud as we rode the waves and tried to stay on course, we soon longed for gears and foot retention. At least the adjustable seats allowed for full leg extension.

Despite our slow progress along the coast, the whole thing was ridiculously fun. It took me some time just to calm down from the excitement of being out in the ocean on a pedal boat.

We went as far out as we dared, pedaling among the sailboats and lobster boats and imagining what it would be like to cross the Atlantic on one of these things.

We pedaled into some of the tiny harbors and beaches that line this part of the coast and took photos from angles that would have been impossible from the shore. We docked outside a cafe and I jumped out to buy us some coffee - just for the fun of having done this. And for the first time in maybe 10 years I wore boat shoes on an actual boat.

We are both pretty comfortable in the water, and at some point we took turns swimming next to the boat. I wish I had the nerve to do this way out in the ocean - but after having seen sharks on Cape Cod for the past two summers I am cautious about that stuff, so this was fairly close to shore.

After three hours we returned the boat, utterly exhausted. Pedaling it felt very much like cycling - though so strenuous that you'd have to be in pretty good shape to do any serious touring along the coast. I cannot help now but wonder what the "serious" pedal boats feel like to operate - I imagine not very different from a recumbent bicycle, not that I have any experience with those either. I am happy to have found a way to combine my love of the ocean with cycling. Pedal boat, we will meet again!

Categories: Co-Habitant, North Shore, tandem, travel

Within My Grasp, Yet Out of Reach: the Evasive Century Ride

Once a cyclist begins to ride longer distances, it is inevitable that they will hear the siren call of the Century - the 100 mile ride. While 100 miles is as arbitrary a number as any, it has an undeniable cachet to it. It is a three digit number, a round number, and impressive number. Put simply, 100 miles is unambiguously "a lot." It is often considered a marker of seriousness when it comes to long-distance cycling.

Although I never set it as a goal for myself to complete a century, to tell the truth I thought that surely I would have done it by now. Distances of 30, 40 and 50 miles were so easy for me almost from the start, that I assumed 100 miles would inevitably follow. However, it is now my 3rd summer of cycling and somehow I still have not managed it - 65 miles being the longest distance I've covered so far in one go. One obstacle has been lack of time. As someone who gets annoyed when others tell me they don't have time to cycle, I can't believe I am using the same excuse. So maybe I should rephrase: My time management skills have been inadequate. I try to set a day aside for a century ride, but something inevitably comes up to make it impossible. Shorter rides are easier in that sense, because they do not require taking an entire day off. The other obstacle has been finding places to ride to. While the countryside outside Boston offers excellent cycling, I am having a hard time mapping out routes that exceed 65 miles and are still within my comfort zone when it comes to car traffic and elevation changes. And doing repeat loops just to cycle 100 miles is not appealing.

While on Cape Cod last summer, I thought that surely a century would finally be completed. Our plan was to gradually work up to it, but in the end we did it too gradually: Just after the 65 mile ride I got sick, and by the time I felt better it was time to go home. This summer, the inability to reach the 100 mile mark is becoming almost comical. Now that we are on Cape Ann - with both the time to do it and the perfect location - weather and other factors have intervened to foil our plans repeatedly. 50 miles along the coast has been the longest we have managed so far, and with half our stay over and more storms predicted for this week, it's possible that a century is simply not in the cards during this trip either.

It is becoming clear that, while I am accustomed to fitting rides into my life "organically," the century may necessitate a different approach. If I am serious, then I will need more careful planning, stronger determination, and a willingness to do it in poor weather conditions or along a route that I am not entirely comfortable with. But frankly, that just doesn't seem like much fun. When I finally find the time to do a 100 mile ride on my terms, it will be fantastic. But to approach it as a grimly goal-oriented undertaking for the sake of saying that I've done a century would defeat the purpose. As far as endurance goes, I am fairly confident that I can handle the mileage, so it's just a matter of an opportune situation presenting itself. I am sure someday it will.

Categories: Co-Habitant, North Shore, Rivendell, roadcycling, Surly, travel

Bikes, Trains, Sailboats

After months of deliberation and procrastination, we've finally done it: Traveled by train with our bikes. For a while now we have wanted to cycle around Cape Ann, which is a beautiful area about 40 miles North of Boston - accessible by the MBTA Commuter Rail via the Rockport line. A number of people we know have taken this trip with their bikes, so it seemed doable. Also, I was delighted to spot the following notice on the MBTA website: "Commuter Rail re-introduces The Bike Coach on the Rockport line for the summer season." Bike coach! No other information was provided, so I did some research. Turns out they have commuter trains with special cars dedicated entirely to bikes - with bike racks as far as the eye can see, like this. But I could not find any information regarding its schedule, and it seemed that only some weekend trains were Bike Coach trains. A call to the MBTA was fruitless, so we decided to just show up and hope for the best.

The commuter train to Cape Ann leaves from North Station, a 3.25 mile bike ride from our house through some of the busiest parts of Boston. I don't like cycling through the city on a roadbike, but on a Saturday morning the traffic wasn't bad. We arrived early, which was good as there was a line at the ticket machines. There were plenty of other people with bicycles. When our train arrived, the conductor came out and announced that all those with bikes must proceed to the first car of the train. Only those with bikes were allowed in that car. Only those without bikes were allowed in the other cars. The segregation gave us hope that this was the fabled Bike Coach, and we happily headed for the front car along with the procession of other cyclists. 

What happened next was rather stunning. The car we were ushered into had no accommodations for bikes what so ever - just a small corner of space at one end where a couple of handicapped seats had been removed. This was definitely not the Bike Coach. Nonetheless, everybody proceeded to drag their bikes on the train - more and more of them, until not only this corner, but the entire aisle was filled with bikes. When even that space ran out, new passengers began to pile their bikes on top of other bikes. Loud clunking noises filled the train as tubes smashed against derailleurs. 

Not wanting our bikes damaged in the velo moshpit that ensued, we found a seat near the exit and sort of held our bikes on our laps the entire time. As you might imagine, it was uncomfortable to sit that way for an hour. But the alternative was to accept that a dozen 50lb mountain bikes would be thrown on top of our bicycles - which was not a viable option. So we tried to have a sense of humour about the whole thing and looked forward to reaching our destination while seriously discussing the possibility of Bromptons in the future. 

But no sooner had we reached Rockport than the train trauma was forgotten, as we were greeted with perfect weather and glorious coastal views. 

The Cape Ann peninsula consists of Rockport, Annisquam Village and Gloucester - each of them with beautiful scenery. Severed from the mainland by the winding Annisquam River, water views are everywhere. This was our first time in the area and we decided to do an exploratory loop along the coastline instead of a long-distance trip. The Cape Ann loop is about 20 miles, with mild but constant rolling hills, alternating between open water views and tree lined country roads. Especially considering the 4th of July weekend, the area was not crowded. Drivers were courteous everywhere except for the traffic circle in Gloucester, but even that was not too bad. Roads were good on the eastern side of the cape, but terrible on the western side. Navigation was intuitive - just follow the coastline! 

My Rivendell is in the midst of a small (but exciting) make-over, so I took the loaner Seven on this trip. Overall it was pretty good, though a burlier bike might have been a better choice on the pothole-ridden roads. We also ventured off road a bit, which was "interesting" on 23mm racing tires!

Cape Ann is even quieter and less commercially developed than we expected, a pleasant surprise. Lots of parks, meadows and nature reserves. Not too many parking lots. And "motel sprawl" is virtually non-existant - at least compared to places like Cape Cod, the NH Seacoast, and much of coastal Maine. 

Also, there are apparently sailboat races happening in Rockport - wonderful!

All in all, we loved the area and are now considering staying there for longer, instead of venturing further from home on vacation later this summer. After all - just load up our bikes on the commuter rail, it's so easy! Of course we'd forgotten about our train experience earlier that day. Or at least, we thought, there would surely not be as many bikes on the return trip. Or maybe we would finally get the mythical Bike Coach?

Nope, no such luck. On the return trip, passengers were once again segregated into those with bikes and those without, and this time the "bike car" had a car rack attached in the handicapped seating area. It accommodated 4-5 bikes, tightly squeezed, and was filled as soon as the train began to board.

Minutes later, that pathetic little bike rack was surrounded by dozens of other bikes, stacked and thrown against one another haphazardly. 

Exits were blocked, aisles were blocked - no one seemed to care. When passengers with bikes needed to get on or off, they would simply throw the other bikes out of the way and the whole thing was like one huge pile of scrap metal. So we held our bikes on our laps again - hugging them ever closer to our bodies as other passengers kept trying to pile their bikes on top of ours (yes, even while we were holding our bikes on our laps!). It was a madhouse and probably violated all sorts of safety regulations. The MBTA clearly needs to have these alleged Bike Coach cars run with more frequency and on a predictable schedule. As we now understand it, the schedule is random and there is no way to time your trip to ensure that you will get a Bike Coach. Sounds improbable, but that's how it is!

Late in the evening, we rode home from the station along mostly empty city streets, recuperating from the train but also satiated from a day of exploring such a beautiful new place by bicycle. We only cycled 30 miles over all, and the point of the trip was mainly to hang out and get to know the area. Next time we will plan for a longer route. The North Shore is a great starting point for long distance touring: While there is no pleasant bicycle route North out of Boston, from Cape Ann we could just continue to cycle along the coast to Maine. Definitely something to consider, despite the less than ideal commuter rail experience.

What is it like to travel on a train with a bike where you live, and do you do it often?

Categories: Co-Habitant, North Shore, roadcycling, Seven, Surly, transportation options, travel