Bici Reunion

Among a gazillion social events, vacation, a water leak at my apartment, freelance writing/editing and work this month, I've really missed my regular cycling crew. It's been, oh, weeks since I saw the breakfast on the bridge folks. Grace and her kimchee magic have been absent for I don't know how long. Two weeks? The Sunday market, all the Chattanooga Football Club games.... passed.

In light of my absence (from the blogging "industry" as well), I needed a refresher ride. Last night I joined about 20 other cyclists at Link 41 for the Beer, Brats and Bikes cruise around town to recognize Local Foods week.

The best part? I've never seen many of these cyclists. It felt like sweet success, like I could just sit back, relax, and enjoy myself instead of feeling obligated to drum up support, converse, socialize. Chattanooga's cycling community—and no, I'm not talking about roadies!—is growing. These folks came out in shorts and sandals (eh..) on cruisers, on mountain bikes, one BMX ride, you name it.

J and I didn't stick around for many of the festivities. In fact, we were almost overwhelmed by the crowd at Terminal. I ran into numerous friends, including former high school stand-outs who were catching up over a beer. Apparently it's time for my graduating class to get hitched. The first thing said long-time aquaintance did? Grab my left hand and look for a ring. She'd heard that someone with my name had gotten married, but no, it was a different girl with my name.

Either way, it was great to briefly catch up, exchange high-fives, ride around with J in the cool night. He spotted a shooting star from the porch—and we were the only ones who saw it! Exhausted from my midday kettlebell new workout, one of my new obsessions, I rode up Georgia with J, which I'm slowly growing accustomed to, and passed out.

Another day and we'll be headed to Philly for a family-filled 4th of July weekend. No bikes, again, which hurts my heart a little, but I revel in the excitement and adventure of traveling, especially in big cities.

New end-of-year goal? Finding a new place to live. More details to follow. 

LGRAB Summer Olympics Pt. 2: Bicycle Maintenance

For my second LGRAB Summer Olympics Pt. 2 "event," I completed some simple bicycle maintenance.

I FINALLY installed a rear light on my Bianchi Milano. Previously, I would clip my superflash on my bag or clothing.

 

This is the Milano, sans rear light. 

This is my oh-so neglected mountain bike, Billie (yes, I keep her in the hallway), which came with a spare rear light and mount.

Mounting the light. 

Voila! I now can cruise safely at night.

While my task was menial, I've been putting it off for weeks. Unfortunately, the internal hub on the Milano requires some much-needed attention from my friendly LBS mechanics that I'm unable to perform at home.

This diagram,  from Sheldon Brown's website, provides only a glimpse into the complexities of an internal hub. Egads!

Vacation Roundup: The Tractor of Bicycles

I just got back from a solo trip to New Orleans, LA. While the original agenda for my week off was to trek to Seattle to visit J's friends and my friend in Eugene, plans changed. Said Eugenian friend was already in New Orleans for the summer—so why not go there?

A big fan of Amtrak and any sort of rail transit, I was determined to incorporate riding the rails in at least one segment of my travel. So last Friday J drove me to Atlanta, where we hung out with his sister and brother-in-law, two cool cats who work at the Georgia Aquarium, and a few of their aquarium friends. I also met an editor at New South Publishing. I'm always eager to talk with editors, writers, publishers and the like about their experiences.

The next morning J took me to the itsy bitsy, teeny tiny Amtrak station, which is right off Peachtree and next to the omnipresent interstate. I was about to bounce out of my seat for about an hour after boarding, with Hank William's "Pan American" rattling around in my head throughout the trip:

I have heard your stories about your fast trains
But now I'll tell you about one all the Southern folks have seen
She's the beauty of the Southlands listen to that whistle scream
It's that Pan American on her way to New Or-leans.

She leaves Cincinnati headin' down that Dixie line
When she passes that Nashville tower you can hear that
whistle whine
Stick your head out the window and feel that southern breeze
your on that Pan American on her way to New Or-leans.

[...] If your ever in the Southlands and want to see the scenes
Just get your self a ticket on that Pan American Queen
Louiville Nashville Montgomery the cap'tal of Ala-bam
You pass right through then all when your New Orleans bound.

The folk, Old Time and country/bluegrass songs about the railroad run deep. Unfortunately, the Pan American Queen no longer exists. No regional passenger rail lines even come though middle and East Tennessee. When I was riding cross country in 2009, my favorites included a version of "The City of New Orleans," as I was riding on Amtrak's City of New Orleans train from Chicago>New Orleans. Other train favorites of mine include Rev. Gary Davis "When the Train Comes Along" and J.J. Cale "Ridin' Home."

If you thought flying could exaserbate emotions and feelings, imagine being rocked to sleep by the rails. The trip is slower, but you get to experience the entire landscape. There is something so natural about riding a train.

Anyway, I digress. I arrived safely in New Orleans, where my friend greeted me with a big hug at the station. We hit a few bars in the Marigny district before collapsing at her friend's house. Sunday was spent watching family cookouts in Audobon Park and sitting on the Fly watching massive ships and tug boats move cargo up and down the Mississippi.

After a night in, I filled my early Monday morning with what else—bicycle hunting!

As noticed in the Marigny district Saturday and Sunday, quite a few folks in New Orleans perfer to cruise—cruisers were everywhere! Dramatic swept-back handlebars and top tubes matched the "relaxed" riding style. I saw many, many riders going the wrong way on one-ways with no helmet or lights. In fact, quite a few of them were talking on the phone, smoking a cigarette or drinking. I was astrounded, if not impressed.

Many cruisers had excellent wire baskets, too, on both the front and back of the bike, though more commonly on the front. Old mountain bikes seemed to have the most, next to women's cruiser bikes. 

After seeing the influx of bar-hopping riders on Saturday, Monday's commuters were a welcome change. Men in dress shirts, pants and shoes buzzed by on their commuter-style bikes. This lady smiled at me on her way to work.

That night I trekked out to Molly's on the Market, a pub on St. Phillip and Decatur that my neighbors, former New Orleans residents, recommended. I said hello to their bartender friend and talked to a fellow about cycling in the city. He was a Seattle native who was testing out his roommate's cruiser for the night. He deemed them the "tractor of bicycles": you're not going anywhere too fast on a cruiser. Many of them happen to be quite heavy, as well, and I spotted some cruisers with seats literally as wide as my office chair at work.

A little cyclo conversation really made my night. Before leaving on my trip, friends can attest to my plan to bring or borrow a bicycle for the occasion. While Amtrak allows passengers to check bikes in a large, purchased cardboard box, it's not the safest or most effective method of transport for a beloved cycle. Especially after driving to Atlanta to catch the train. However, walking proved to be just as pleasurable. And I didn't have to ask for directions in the Quarter on my bike, as two girls asked me Tuesday.

These were a few touring bikes I noticed, and then I saw the folks who appeared to be owners. I should've asked where they were from. Obviously, the panniers and such weren't in tow.

Both friends/hosts in New Orleans didn't have cars. My girlfriend, however, had borrowed her folks' car for the weekend in order for us to more efficiently get around town. Cycling seemed to be the fastest way, though I'm glad I didn't bring my bike. Judging by the amount of seats that had been locked up or removed by owners, safety would have been a major concern.






Maybe next time : )

Next week: Philadelphia!

Been A Long Time Comin'

My first entry to Pt. 2 of the LGRAB Summer Olympic Games was carrying a load on my bicycle. 

While I've experimented with doing laundry before—and actually carried two loads' worth of dirty towels/sheets and clothes—this trip was a bit less extensive. I carried two panniers of laundry to J's house. His apartment has cheap machines, too. I spend a whopping $2 to wash/dry a load compared with $4.50-5 at the laundromat around the corner from my house.  

The ride to his house is usually slow and steady, especially with this much laundry. I beef it up to a great traning experience for touring one day. 

You'll also notice a reappearance of my favorite new dress! It's made out of that fabulous stretchy bathing-suit like material that dries quickly and never shows too much sweat. It also looks great with my eyes, if I do say so myself. 

Sorry I've been away so long, dear readers. Between an astonishing workload (in and out of the office) and vacation time (report to follow), there has been little time for pounding out posts. 

Summer Olympic Games: Pt. 2

 

Photo compliments of Colleen

For the first round of LGRAB's Summer Olympic Games, I attended a group ride and, last night, went on a bicycle date—dressed up and everything.

Colleen invited J and I to the Comedy Catch to see a friend of her's in the final round of the Southeast's Funniest People. After J and I grabbed at bite to eat at Greenlife, C & Q met us at my house for the 7 p.m. ride. I donned my new blue dress for the occasion, and Colleen had a nice white skirt/shirt with a dark shawl on top.

After a weekend of scattered thunder storms (a Southern summer favorite of mine), we had clear skies, puffy clouds and a beautiful sunset for riding. We also go to ride through the Brainerd tunnels, making it my longest tunnel ride to date.

It was a slow, uphill sweaty ride, but once we arrived at the Comedy Catch there were frosty adult beverages to be had. The budding comedians and comediennes were fabulously entertaining, and I look forward to going back.

Colleen documented our ride through the tunnels, too. This particular tunnel is two lanes in each direction, and has a light for bicycles at each end. Hooray for Chattanooga's bike infrastructure, bicycles dates and the Summer Games!