A Season of Evenings

Walking through town just as the light began to fade, I had one of those odd moments when everything falls into a rhythm. A woman in very high heels had just unlocked her bicycle from a pole and began rolling it down the sidewalk toward me, her shoes clicking on the bricks and the hem of her coat fluttering in the breeze. At the same time a second-story window opened and there was the late Jim Morrison's drunken baritone singing "come on now touch me baby." The sound warped a little, carried sideways by the breeze. Just then someone down the street slammed their car door and the alarm went off, a persistent beeping without that edge of harshness it would have had, had it been closer. As I stood still for some seconds, letting the woman in the heels and coat maneuver her bike around me, all of these events became harmonised. Click-click, beep-beep, what was that promise that you made? Click-click, beep-beep, why won't you tell me what she said? The woman looked up toward the open window as she passed me, and suddenly I was flooded with a sense of deja-vu.

In the Russian language there is a word - a verb - to describe the onset of evening: "vechereyet" (вечереет). It's an archaic word, but still used on occasion. The closest English translation would be something like "evening is coming," but the mood is not the same. And it's the mood of that word that's important. You hear it, and you feel an "eveningness" gently setting in. It's an anticipatory state, fostering expectations of moonlight, cricket sounds, a chill in the air, perhaps peals of laugher in the dark. I remembered this word on my way home today. The sun had nearly set and when I looked at the time I saw it was 5:35pm. "This is the last week of October," I thought. A season of early evenings awaits.

Categories: night time cycling, stories

Dynamo Lighting Kit for Roadbikes

While I am generally a huge fan of dynamo lighting, I do not have it installed on what is currently my only roadbike. My plans for the bike did not involve significant amounts of night-time cycling; it was not meant to be a touring or randonneuring bike. For occasional riding in the dark I do have an excellent rechargeable battery headlight that lasts for hours and attaches easily to the handlebars. And I have an equally good tail light that attaches to the back of my saddle wedge tool bag. To install a dynamo hub wheel and lights on this bike would have added unnecessary weight and expense to the build.

I felt pretty good about my bike's lighting setup until I found myself wanting to join an overnight ride. Initially I thought that my super duper rechargeable battery headlight would last through the night. But when I did the math it became clear that it would not; I would need to add a second headlight and to bring several sets of spare batteries. Even at the height of summer an overnight ride in New England means 8+ hours of riding in the dark - and not the kind of milky suburban dark where you can leave the light on a low setting to conserve battery life; proper boonies dark that requires a powerful headbeam. I talked to the others doing the ride, and they all had dynamo lights. Now I felt foolish for not having a bike with appropriate lighting. But at the same time, how often would I do rides like this? 

I was discussing this with local cyclist Pamela Blalock and she offered to lend me her mobile dynamo setup: a spare front wheel with a dynamo hub, and lights that are easy to attach and remove. With this kit, she can turn any 700C wheeled roadbike into an overnight bike. Extremely grateful to Pamela for the offer, frankly I was also skeptical that it would work out. To me, dynamo lighting was something that gets permanently installed - not attached and removed on a case by case basis! Furthermore, my bike has no fenders, no racks, no braze-ons. Could the lights be attached securely? I was worried that the installation process would be tricky, and that in the end something would end up falling off, disconnecting, or malfunctioning. 

To my amazement, the installation process took mere minutes. The front wheel switch was seamless and soon my bike was sporting a dynamo hub. Then the headlight was attached to the brake bolt, as shown in the first picture. A thin cable runs straight down from the headlight to the hub, easily secured to the fork with a piece of tape.

For the tail light, a P-clamp was installed on the left chainstay. The wiring got routed along the chainstay and the top tube, secured with zip ties to the brake cable. The result was not beautiful, but neither was it flimsy. It was secure and problem-free. The positioning of the headlight and tail light beams were spot on. 

Later I learned that other local cyclists employ a similar system for when they ride in the dark - a dynamo hub wheel and lights that get moved from bike to bike as needed. I would not have thought this to be a good idea until I tried it myself and experienced how easy and hassle-free it was. On a dedicated randonneuring or touring bike, it makes sense to have dynamo lighting permanently installed in a more elegant manner. But for those who want the option of using their pared-down roadbike for occasional night time riding, a kit like this can be a good solution. Pamela's setup includes a 32 spoke Velocity Aerohead wheel built around a Schmidt SON hub, a Lumotec Cyo IQ headlight and a Spanniga Pixeo tail light - though many alternatives exist. 

At least here in New England, there seems to be an increasing amount of cross-over between road racing, randonneuring, endurance events, and casual long distance rides. And this cross-over is influencing how roadbikes are defined and equipped. I am still unsure what kind of cycling I will ultimately gravitate toward. But if more night time rides are in my future, a versatile dynamo setup like this is certainly worth considering.

Categories: lights, night time cycling, roadcycling, Seven

Dusk in the Afternoon

Cycling home the other day, I caught a glimpse of a clock in a storefront window. At 4 pm it had already grown dark. Like other signs of winter's approach, this gave me a pang of anxiety. The early onset of darkness restricts my mobility, and after two winters as a cyclist I still have not found a good solution. 

The main issue for me, is that the two major "commuter trails" we have in the Boston area - the Charles River Trail and the Minuteman Trail - are completely unlit. When it gets dark they turn pitch black. This directly affects my long-distance bike travel, because I regularly use these trails as "highways" to get to suburban destinations 8-12 miles away, both for transportation and for roadcycling. At one point I was determined to conquer the darkness with super bright lights. I was pleased to find that it was indeed possible to cycle on the trails after dark with a strong enough headlight. I would go slower than usual, but it was good enough. However, the one issue I had not considered seriously enough was safety. On the Charles River Trail, I've now been startled several times by intoxicated men in my path. And on the Minuteman Trail last week a group of highschool boys stuck branches in my spokes as I cycled past them. There were maybe six of them, and they'd been sitting on the edges of the narrow path, smoking and waiting for a cyclist to ride by so that they could do this. Under the cover of darkness people who are capable of violence tend to lose their inhibitions, which makes unlit trails problematic. But the alternative routes to the destinations to which the trails take me are along busy roads, and I do not find them viable to use on a regular basis.

So what am I planning to do about this?.. Probably nothing, other than making sure to make it home before dark if I am using the trails, which basically means restricting my mobility again for the duration of winter. Oh I know, I know. I could "be braver" and do those long trips on busy roads. Or I could become a "bring lights to the trails" activist and dedicate my life to getting petitions signed and funding allocated. But the reality is that most cyclists who find themselves in this position simply give up. We should not be faced with those choices just because we want to continue cycling safely and conveniently as the days grow shorter. 

Categories: Bella Ciao, Boston, night time cycling, safety, trails

The Everyday Spooky

I am going to be honest here: I considered doing a contest or a funny story for Halloween, but I am just not in the mood.

After a few days back in the US, I have to admit that cycling here has required some major re-adjustment on my part. Having initially set out with the same relaxed attitude I'd acquired after only a couple of weeks in Vienna, I immediately experienced a "welcome home" reminder consisting of close-calls with doors flinging open, drivers refusing to yield when I have the right of way, the works. Cycling here is spooky. Having not ventured abroad for over a year prior to my recent trip, I guess I've managed to trick myself into forgetting that.

Once in a while I write about how much conditions have improved here in Cambridge and Somerville since I began cycling in Spring of 2009. But just as often I question myself: Have they really improved that much, or have I just become more aggressive, less sensitive, and more willing to accept risks in response to the reality of how (bad) things are? Probably a bit of both, and it's so difficult to see objectively. Coming back from Las Vegas a month ago, cycling in Boston seemed like paradise. Coming back from Vienna, it seems like a war zone. 

While I maintain that I am "not an activist," of course I care about cyclists all over the world having safe and pleasant travel conditions. Everyday cycling should not be a scary experience, and some day I hope it won't be. 

Categories: Boston, night time cycling, social commentary, urban cycling

'Where's My Bike?' and Lights Too Bright

I've finally had the "where's my bike??" moment of panic a couple of nights ago. I'd left Jacqueline chained to one of the bike racks at the huge intersection in the Museumsquartier and went out for dinner with a friend.

Afterward, I went to retrieve the bike, but was horrified not to see it at the rack where I remembered leaving it.

This is a large, busy intersection that has between one and three bicycle racks on each corner. It was possible I'd left it on a different rack from the one I remembered. I started checking them all, with my friend's cheerful encouragement: "Relax, no one wants to steal your junky bike!" 

While I don't appreciate the implication that Jacqueline is undesirable, I am glad that she was indeed safely locked up to a bike rack down the road. The shape is so recognisable, that I spotted her as soon as we approached. Immensely relieved, I vowed to pay more attention to where I leave her.

On a separate note, the headlight bracket on Jacqueline snapped over the weekend (you can see it positioned at an odd angle here), and we do not have a replacement. So we've removed the headlight altogether now and I am using the LED battery-operated lights I brought with me from the US. Cycling with those at night, a couple of times now local cyclists have commented that my tail light is too bright. It's not that it blinds them, but more like they just find it disconcerting - not typically associating that level of brightness with a bicycle. Interesting, because in Boston the same tail light is not considered too bright at all; in fact in the past I've used two of them whereas here I am only using one. Just goes to show how different cycling "culture" can be, even in terms of light intensity preferences. 

Categories: Jacqueline, night time cycling, Vienna