"I think you have a bicycle problem."

Four of us, two men and two women, all from my Creating Happiness Seminar group, are sitting around the table having lunch at a friend's house last weekend. The conversation turns to bicycling--one of those present being a lady with considerable experience and expertise in racing mountain bikes. She and I talk about the bikes we own, have owned or want to own. Each of us has several. At this point the other man at the table speaks up. "I think you have a bicycle problem," he says to me. I'm reminded of the old line that you don't have a drinking problem as long as there is something to drink. Immediately both of the cyclists start explaining that we have different kinds of bikes for different uses. And the guy who made that comment is a motorcyclist who never learned to ride a bicycle, so we offer to teach him to ride a "real" bike. But the comment remains in my mind. Do I have a bicycle problem? To start with, "a bicycle problem" is a story about how many bikes one has. I know people who have hundreds of bicycles, more than they can possibly ride. Some are in the used bike business simply to get rid of the surplus (many antiques dealers got started the same way). An obsessive need to collect more of something than one can possibly need or use is a recognized disorder, particularly when it interferes with the well-being of the collector. I would consider having 500 bikes to be a bit of a problem--if one has them merely to have them. Of course, when what one collects is something most people would like more of, and generally approve of having more of, such as money, art or real estate, it's not generally recognized as a problem. And it's a fine line between focus and obsession. Bikes are easy to collect. They are easy to transport and they take up relatively little space. They are relatively inexpensive compared, say, to classic cars, which also need a lot more space and upkeep. There are plenty of interesting bikes around. In my case, I have no particular desire to amass a bike collection. These days I am reducing the collections of stuff I had already amassed--books, records, whatever--to what I actually use enough to be worth keeping. I like my bikes. They're all different and they're all useful. But if I find I'm not riding one, it's probably going to someone who will.

The Bike Fleet

"Why do you have so many bicycles?" a lady of my acquaintance asked. "How many pairs of shoes do you have?" I replied. There was a brief pause before she said, "Oh. I get it." Yes. I have one for commuting and one for weekend riding and one that folds to go in the car, and one I don't ride any more, and one or two I've been meaning to give away, and there's one that was just too nice and too cheap not to buy even though I didn't really need it. Bikes are specialized, like insects, but some, like some insects, are adaptable. Because I got them one at a time over the years, they overlap somewhat in their specialization. I got a racing-style bicycle that was light and fun to ride, but I didn't want to ride it on bumpy city streets, and it didn't take fenders for rainy days, so I built a commuter from a Schwinn Sierra to ride to work. I got a folding bike so I could have one with me in the car--you never know when you may want a bicycle. Then I got an old Raleigh roadster because I've always liked them. Then I built a Surly Cross Check because I'd heard good things about them. The racing bike and the Surly overlap on weight and speed. The Sierra and Roadster overlap on durability, utility and (unfortunately) weight. The Surly and the Sierra overlap on having low gears for hill climbing. Now I am preparing to rationalize the fleet, selling off the ones that I don't ride as often. I am actually considering whether to have just one bicycle, if there were one bicycle that was adaptable to all the kinds of riding I do. Possibly the Surly Cross Check will be that. It's light enough to go fast, strong enough to survive hard riding on bad surfaces, and it'll take racks for carrying stuff and fenders for bad weather. If I could only take one bike with me, this would probably be it. Which reminds me... when I was 13, my only bike was black, with fenders, a rack, and a dynamo lighting set. I rode it everywhere. The Surly will be black with fenders, racks and a dynamo lighting set. I plan to ride it everywhere. Am I progressing or regressing? Maybe it's worse than that. Now I'm looking at tricycles.

The Surly Saga Continues

"The Regiment has decided to buy a new one."

Last month I had the opportunity to compare my 52cm Surly Cross Check to my brother's 54cm Cross Check. While I can ride the 52cm, it feels cramped while the 54cm just felt right. By the time I determined this, I had missed a couple of used 54cm frames that had been advertised for sale. The 52cm was a used frame I bought last year. After monitoring my sources for a while and considering other frame options, I reached the radical position of actually considering ordering a new frame for myself. I realized that the last time I bought a new bike frame was... 1974. (The last time I bought a new complete bike was in 1973.) I concluded that a new frame every 35 years is not extravagant. Last week I ordered a new 54cm Surly Cross Check frame in black. I'm looking forward to building it up, which will mainly consist of transferring the parts over from the 52cm, which I will then sell. What is also worth my considering is why I had been buying used instead of new. One reason is thrift--often I got a great value in the used market. Another is that sometimes I like something that is no longer made in the same way--this being more in the realm of vintage than merely used. But underneath that might lurk some less pleasant reasons. One might be to avoid having to make a definite choice. If something "finds" me--I just happen upon it--and it's inexpensive and perhaps in need of a home--it's like taking in a stray kitten--I just had to do it. I've avoided the responsibility of actually seeking out something I want to have. And finally, there's the feeling that secondhand is good enough for me--maybe I don't deserve anything better. Needless to say that does not apply so much to the occasional high-value antique I might acquire--though even there, some element of "it found me" or "it needs a home" is often present. And at times I have felt I could not part with something, even if it were a burden to keep it, because I felt some responsibility toward it. Given that I have spent five years (as of last Wednesday) engaged in the work of transformation, predicated on having a choice in who I am being at any moment regardless of circumstances--I am giving up "I don't deserve better" and plan on enjoying my first new bike frame in more than half my lifetime. And that recumbent trike, when I get it, will most likely be new, too.

Orang Basikal meets Orange Tricycle

Last week I seized the one fairly rainless day, Wednesday, and drove up to Mt Airy Bicycles to test ride a 2007 Trice S. It was sooner than I intended to buy one (for purely financial reasons), but used Trices rarely appear on the market and sell quickly, and I could save a little over the price of a new one. Besides, it was orange, my favorite color. The Trice S was ICE's production sport/racing model in 2006-07. It was discontinued once the QNT model could be set up in a similar configuration. It resembles a QNT with six inches more length in the rear part of the main frame tube, which gives it a longer wheelbase and a very low seat angle--only 33 degrees at most. Its width is the same 30 inches as the other narrow track models, 4 inches (10 cm) less than the standard width. I went there fully expecting to want to buy it and had been dealing with the question of how to do so for a few days beforehand. As it happened there was also a used 2005 Trice T there and I could test ride it also. The countryside in which the bike shop is located is hilly with a number of quiet back roads, perfect for test riding. I took each one over a route of about 7 miles that included some steep hills, up and down. It is difficult to get an exact comparison of the different trikes I have tested, because they were ridden on different days, in different locations with different terrain. Even I was not the same each day--I might be in better or worse form, and the more I ride trikes, the more skillful and perceptive I become as a trike rider. It might seem that there is not much skill required to ride a machine that can't fall over, but indeed it takes some getting used to. And while it generally stays upright, you can lift a wheel fairly easily. This was the hilliest course I had ridden, and it was also windy, so I worked harder than before. My impression is that the custom Greenspeed I rode a couple of weeks ago was the easiest to push uphill of any of them, but although there were some hills on that route, they were neither as steep nor as long as the ones I rode on this day. I found the S less comfortable than I had expected it to be. I didn't mind the 35-degree angle on the Greenspeed, but this one seemed too low. Plus I found that if I wanted to make a low-speed u-turn, the wheel hit the seat and I had to move out of the way--making me consider a standard track instead. It was certainly fast and handled well. Next I tried out the T. This is ICE's touring model, higher off the ground and with less seat rake. The tradeoff is more ground clearance and a higher seat that may be easier to get in and out of, for some reduction in cornering and speed. ICE says it is a "sedate touring trike." Which it was. However, it was very pleasant to ride and comfortable. I preferred its bar end shifters to the grip shifters that are standard on newer Trices--mainly because it was easier to keep track of what gear I was in. On a trike, you can't easily check the rear hub visually. My overall impression was that while the T is comfortable, I want the better handling and speed of the lower models--and perhaps looking good has something to do with that too. Many trikes are sold to riders with physical limitations due to age or health. Many people do ride them who can ride a bicycle but prefer the trike--indeed there is a lot of racing going on, and note the link on this page to the 35-year-old Frenchwoman who is crossing the Himalayas on one. As I don't consider myself to be in the geezer class yet, I want something that looks sporty and on which I intend to go fast. At the same time, I found I prefer the short wheelbase of the current models, which offers more flexibility in how they are set up, and is more compact when they are dismantled to transport. The next consideration is wide versus narrow track--that tradeoff being between cornering ability and being able to fit on narrow tracks or through narrow gaps. Further research continues while I sell some more houses so I can buy one.

Found Object Bike Gets a Home

The 1995 Gary Fisher that I found on the curb on the night before heavy trash pickup is being prepared for its new life as my 15-year-old nephew's commuter to his summer job in Niantic. He will be teaching sailing and needs something to get back and forth, in his last summer before becoming motorized. I took the bike and such parts as I had on hand (tires, brake levers, brakes) up to the parental home in Niantic over Easter weekend, and handed them off to Cafiend to assemble into something rideable, including replacing the original Cranks of Death with whatever is now being offered in the ongoing recall. Haven't had an update from him about it, but I expect to see it when I visit again in the summer. Total cost for the bits for this bike so far has been less than $20.

The Kindness of Strangers

“It’s an unusual trike,” the guy on the phone said. “You may not like it. But you’re welcome to come test ride it.” It was a used custom Greenspeed GTR recumbent trike, fully equipped, for sale locally for $1,500. It was clearly very good value, and I was prepared to consider it despite it being somewhat different from what I would buy new. It doesn’t fold, for one thing. The owner also had several other trikes (not for sale) that I could compare with it. He was encouraging and willing to share his knowledge and enthusiasm for trikes with me. He had gotten his first trike as the result of an injury that rendered him unable to ride a bicycle—a common enough story, I have found. But even after recovering fully, he had not gone back to a bicycle because he liked trikes better. Now he was selling the Greenspeed because he had a newer trike to ride and no longer needed it. I made my way to his home through rush-hour traffic, glad that I do not make such a drive every day. The day was overcast and it was nearly dark by the time I got there. We had to adjust the trike for my leg length, and then I set off. The adjustments—shortening the front boom—allowed me the use of only the middle chainring, though I had enough gears to work with. I still had to extend my leg beyond where I normally would in riding a bicycle, but I could pedal it. My immediate sensation was whee! This is fun! –the same as I had experienced on my first trike ride in March. I rode around a small local trail which gave me some hills to try, and on some suburban streets, perhaps an hour all told. I got lost in the trails and it was quite dark when I returned. This was a pretty serious performance trike with lots of titanium parts, custom wheels, and a specially reclined seat angle. It was not your average trike. I really liked it. This sucker is fast, too. I was easily able to maintain in excess of 20 mph on the level, and 10-11 mph on moderate hills. Long hills wear you down after a while, but you can always climb them. I also learned to shift down before going up--it's harder to downshift while climbing than it is on a bike, because you can't get ahead of it--but then, I've had times on a bike when I got stuck because I left it too late. I noticed some brake steer early on—meaning if you stop with only one front brake it pulls to that side—though not extreme. Although the seat was very reclined at 35 degrees, it was comfortable. It was narrow enough for a single track trail or sidewalk, and when I went onto the grass to get by some pedestrians, it was no problem. I spent some of the time just pulling donuts in a parking lot, seeing how tight it would turn. I am more than ever sure I want one. I would have bought this one, if we had been able to make it fit me. But even with the boom all the way in, I still had my knees locked and feet turned down at the farthest point. It might fit me with shorter cranks—these were 175mm—but even that would be marginal, with no room for further adjustment. Given that a new trike like this would cost upward of $4,000, I would have liked to make it work—but I had to admit that it didn’t. However, thanks again to the generosity of the seller who, knowing I might not buy it, with his time in sharing his knowledge with me and in letting me have an extensive road test on it.

Ride That Hammer

(Written March 15, 2009) 

Lately I have been considering the purchase of another bike, or frame on which to build one, to take the place of and use the parts from the 52cm Surly Cross Check which is too small for me. I don’t exactly need another bike—I have several already—but I don’t have a light touring/randonneuring bike such as the Surly was built to be. I have a racing bike, a commuting bike, and a utility bike, each very good examples of their kind, and none really suited to a long ride in the country, which is the kind of riding I like to do. The kind of bike I have in mind would be light, fast, have low gears for grades, have racks for bags, and a dynamo lighting set. The racing bike is fast and sporty, but lacks low gears and is not really suited to racks, fenders and a lighting set. The commuting bike has the low gears, fenders, rack and lighting set, but is heavy and slow. The utility bike lacks low gears and is heavy and only fast on the level or downhill. The Surly Cross Check frame combines strength, adaptability, space for racks and fenders, and the ability to have a wide gear range, at a reasonable cost. The Surly Long Haul Trucker frame is more suited to touring, but a bit less adaptable otherwise.

What I am trying to rationalize is whether to go with the moderate-cost Surly, or with a more expensive, higher-quality lugged frame, old or new. What I would really like is another frame like the one I had in the 1970s, which had all the qualities I want. Such a frame will cost about three times the price of a new Surly frame. If I find a used Surly frame, I may come out close to even on the frame, because the 52cm I have can be sold for the same price I pay for its replacement. A Surly frame will be serviceable and will use all the same parts I have already got. Perhaps its main drawback is that my existing handlebar bag racks won’t fit properly on modern threadless stems. There are ways to work around that.

If cost were no object… those sweet words… I would simply buy the lugged frame of my choice and build the bike I want to build. But cost is an object. That amount of money is enough to be a concern, especially for a bike I really don’t “need”.

I also see that it is easy to “fight the last war,” i.e., to get the bike that suits a set of requirements from the past, but not the future. Do I really need this kind of a bike? What kind of riding will I be doing? And that brings up the question of what I think I will be doing with my life for the next few years.

I bought my racing bike, used, because I got a good deal and I wanted a nice bike again. I built the commuter from another used bike for the specific task of riding to a specific workplace in 2007. I bought the utility bike because I liked it and had wanted one for a while. I bought the Surly because I thought I was getting a good deal, but I had no specific use for it in mind when I got it—I worked that out later. Indeed I had been in the process of turning my racer into a light tourer, and stopped when I got the Surly.

The riding I anticipate doing this spring is recreational riding, and some utility riding—shopping and other errands. The recreational riding I would like to do is to go out for a whole day and cover some miles. This I might do locally, or when visiting family in New England, or maybe I would take my bike somewhere within an hour or two in search of more interesting rides.

The thought which gave rise to the title of this essay is the question of whether it defeats my intention to have “too nice a bike”. There are plenty of bike enthusiasts out there who treat the bikes like a kind of jewelry with wheels on. The bikes are lovely, but how much would you ride something that rare, expensive and beautiful? It reminds me of the antique car owners who never drive their cars because they are too nice to risk in traffic. A bike that can’t be replaced becomes a liability. And I thought to myself that people who ride bikes professionally, bike racers, probably don’t get sentimental about them. They may have bikes they prefer, but to them the bike is a tool, like a hammer, to be used until it wears out and then replaced. In fact, being sentimentally attached to your bike might be a liability for a racer, since they have to push themselves and their bikes to the limit. If you are concerned about what happens to your bike, you might not push hard enough to win.

And indeed, a tourer has other considerations from a racer. The racer needs to complete the race, but the pros can blow out a bike and start the next race with a new one. Obviously this is not the same for the lower-level racer who has to buy his own bike and probably maintain it too.

But I ask myself—if I intend to ride, indeed maybe even to ride in distant places, am I better off to have a bike I can easily replace if it is stolen or damaged?

Then again—I have only one life and a finite number of years (no one knows how many) in which to ride. Do I want to spend it riding inferior bikes because I think that’s all I deserve?

I would dearly love to justify spending the money on a high-end lugged frame. And that’s basically the reason for all this rationalization. I know where I can get what I want, I know what it costs, and I know I want it… and that my finances are not really ready for it. 

Back in the Saddle Again

It is utterly astounding to me that I have not posted here since March 12. The title I chose today is apt not only in the sense of picking up and starting again, but indeed in some of the events that happened between then and now. 

On March 22, I went to Bike Demo Day at Mt. Airy Cycles. I'd never been to that location before, but I've been to their older shop, College Park Bicycles, many times. I first met the owner, Larry Black, back when he and my brother worked together at Georgetown Cycle Sport, a long-gone shop that seems to have at one time or another employed nearly every present-day DC-area shop owner or manager who was around back when it existed. I was interested to see the Mt. Airy shop, ride in some countryside and maybe try out some different bikes. I also had my eye on an old touring frame in Larry's collection, which I thought might be from the same maker as the one I once owned. It would be expensive, but very tempting if it were the same. So I loaded up my two road bikes--the 1986 Grand Prix and Surly Cross Check--into my Volvo 240 wagon and headed out there. 

The demo day was mainly to demo recumbents and tandems, though not limited to those. I had Larry look at my Surly and give me his opinion on whether it fit me. His first remark was actually to compliment the Grand Prix, then to tell me that bike fit is entirely a matter of personal opinion. But I appreciated having him look at the bike and how it fit me. His conclusion was that it did, but that I had the saddle too high. After lowering it, I took a ride on the road and it seemed better. I still think it's small and I intend replacing the 52cm frame with a 54cm soon. What I do want to commend Larry for was that he spent some of his time on a very busy day to work with me, and made no effort to sell me another bike. As it happened, the old frame I was there to see wasn't exactly like my old one and so I saved my money. 

Late in the afternoon, I began to take notice of some of the recumbent bikes. I've always been intrigued by recumbents, but I've never owned one and had only tried to ride one once, about ten years ago. It was nearing the end of the day when they were putting bikes away, but I did get in a couple of circuits of the parking lot on a couple of different recumbent bikes. Then I started looking at the recumbent tadpole trikes. These have really interested me since I first saw one a few years ago, not least for their resemblance to a Morgan Three Wheeler. I sat on the nearest one that still had its pedals on, and set off around the parking area. My initial impression was that this was the most fun I'd ever had pedaling anything. Strange but true. Now, a month later, it seems unbelievable and I tend to dismiss it. But from then on, I felt that I had a different view of cycling from anything before. I said to myself that at some point I'd like to have one of these. And I wished I had started soon enough to take it on a proper road test. 

Whenever I am considering a purchase, I do a lot of research. What I rode was a Catrike Speed, and so when I got home I began by looking at the company's web site. Then I looked for other information sources. web sites, reviews and so on. Rather quickly I found a page titled "how to buy a recumbent trike," which seemed to be something I was looking for. It was a very good analysis of the factors to be considered, written by an experienced trike owner who happens to have chosen a Trice QNT, built by Inspired Cycle Engineering in the UK. I looked at every manufacturer site I could find, several dealer sites and a number of other sites. Sheldon Brown had owned a Greenspeed about which he wrote "this thing is an absolute blast!" Soon my short list was down to about four makes, with Trice at the top of the list. Having since had a closer look at several makes, Trice is now the one that I want. 

I have no real justification for this, other than how much fun it was to ride one particular trike one time. Unlike many people who ride recumbent trikes, I am fully capable of riding a standard bicycle, of which I already own several. And these things aren't cheap—more than three grand including accessories. So this isn't a purchase I am likely to make soon, if ever. I can certainly see plenty of reasons not to get one.

Meanwhile, I am indeed back in the familiar Brooks saddles again on my standard bikes, and spring is finally here. Perhaps there is a trike in my future, perhaps not. To my existing habit of evaluating roads I drive on as bike routes, I have now added doing so for trikes, even when bicycling. Whether I ever have a recumbent tadpole trike, it’s been an interesting exploration into a whole new area of cycling.