Feeling Kind of Burley

My lightweight commuter bike can now be transformed into a workhorse. With the simplest press of a lever I can attach the Burley Travoy, which I rode out to REI this morning to purchase. 

 

A little back-story. I first read a review of the Travoy on Kent’s Bike Blog – a neverending source of useful information on all things bike – and thought it was the device to solve many of my bike transport problems. But I balked at the $300 price tag and couldn’t quite bring myself to rush out and buy one.

Then, last Monday, I attended the National Women’s Bike Summit, which, lucky for me, was in D.C. It was a treat to be surrounded by hundreds of bike enthusiasts, make that women’s bike enthusiasts, and to meet in person some folks I’d only “met” over the Internet (Elly Blue who was kind enough to publish my essay in the Childhood issue of “Taking the Lane” and Barb Chamberlain who tweets out 500+ women’s bike blogs, including mine).

When the first Women’s Summit was held last year in Long Beach, I was disheartened to hear (I didn’t attend) that it included a fashion show. Could anything be more stereotypical and trivializing of women’s biking, I thought? Yet I’ll be darned if I wasn’t drawn to the super cute accessories in the pop-up shop at last week’s summit. I hereby confess that I bought a very stylish and elegant bike helmet that is covered by a broad brimmed, red straw hat, complete with a black band and flower, which will, I think, be the perfect accoutrement for summer biking (surely just around the corner). So, munch, munch – I’m eating my words, or – well – my thoughts.

Really, it's a helmet!

I had the privilege of lunching with Georgena Terry – pioneer custom builder of bikes for women – who had been the morning speaker. I decided to seek her advice on my biking dilemmas. I described the diverse needs I have for my biking: a hilly ten mile commute to work; toting groceries; shorter rides of all sorts; and being able to lift the bike onto the rack of the bus (and carry it up and down a flight of stairs) while still rehabbing from shoulder surgery. My commuting bike can’t handle hauling groceries or heavy loads, as the panniers unbalance it; but my heavy workhorse bike is a slog on hills and impossible to heft onto the bus rack in my present state. After listening patiently Georgena asked, “Why not get a Burley trailer?”

The Burley Travoy is designed for the urban cyclist who likes to run errands on the bike, perhaps making multiple stops – that’s me! The device is essentially a lightweight dolly that attaches to a pin – the only equipment you need to leave attached to your bike. With one simple twist of the wrist, the towing bar flips up or down; one more twist of the wrist and the dolly folds in half and can be carried, if you don’t care to roll it. The specifications say it can handle up to 60 pounds. It comes with one large shopping (or carrying) bag, which snaps onto the trailer in seconds. Additional bags can be attached to the upper portion.

 

So, indeed, why not give it a try? Perhaps I needed the permission of a wise woman of bikes to legitimize the expenditure. I rode the less-than-ideal Carlin Springs Drive (too many hills and cars; no bike lanes) to REI, where they were very accommodating about attaching the hub for me so I could ride home with it. It turned out that, because I’m short and my seat isn’t very high, they had to remove the rear rack and bag I had on the bike – both of which easily fit into the Travoy’s carrying sack, with plenty of room to spare.

On the way home, I finally located the path that goes from Carlin Springs through the Long Branch Nature Center, connecting up with the Four Mile Run Trail. This allowed me to avoid unpleasant traffic, and gave me a new bike adventure. I slowed for the amphibian crossing and noted with appreciation the volunteers who were cleaning up the park. The trailer maneuvered like a dream – I didn’t even know it was there. I can’t wait to go grocery shopping with it tomorrow to see how it handles fully loaded. 

 After I unhitched the Travoy, my bike looked strangely naked without its rear rack. I’m thinking – perhaps I’ll get a cute little front basket for days I have just a few things to carry and don’t need the trailer. 

 

Errandonnee

            I had never heard of randonneuring until I started reading bike blogs. They’re intense, long distance sport rides – not exactly my kind of biking. But then I came across the errandonnee – a challenge to encourage transportation cycling this February. There were a slew of rules – quirky enough to make it fun, but sufficiently numerous to make it a challenge. In a nutshell, participants were charged with completing at least 12 errands in 12 days, from at least 7 different categories (from a list of 11), riding a total of at least 30 miles, and making at least 2 trips in the dark.

            I avidly took up the challenge, and my successful completion was serendipitously aided by having already planned to take off work on what turned out to be two of the nicest days one could hope for in February. Here are the results of my errandonnee:

Trip #1 – February 10, 2013 – Sun and Moon Yoga; Category: Community meeting/church – 3 miles

I figured it was Sunday morning and Yoga is as close to church as I’ll get. I was concerned about the temperature, but observed that 38 degrees was plenty warm enough. I forgot to take a photo to document the trip, so am taking the liberty of including one that I took a few weeks earlier when I was thrilled to see the new bike parking.

 Trip #2 – February 10, 2013 – Safeway; Category: grocery store – 3 miles

I went after yoga, so I counted the three miles home for this trip. Also no photo, but my receipt proves that I was there after yoga. I observed that the bike parking outside Safeway still has a ton of plastic on the “staple.” I don’t think it’s getting a lot of action.

Trip #3 – February 12, 2013 – Work; Category (duh) work – 10 miles

I knew I’d have no trouble making 30 miles, since my one-way commute is 10. I happily observed new paving on parts of the Custis Trail. It was my first bike commute to work since shoulder surgery so it was a happy day for me!

Trip #4 – February 12, 2013 – physical therapy; Category: personal care – 3 miles

I went to PT from work on the metro, so I counted the miles from PT to home. I observed – not for the first time – that biking on the sidewalk on the west side of Glebe Road is nearly impossible because Arlington County has chosen to plant trees in the pedestrian area of the sidewalk. I like trees and all, but the placement seems questionable.

PT receipt - I highly recommend Hand-n-Hand

Trip #5 – February 13, 2013 – Work; Category: work – 10 miles

Two days in a row – yippee! I had thought the day before that there was a new curb cut on the Mt. Vernon Trail by the bridge to Theodore Roosevelt Island, but more carefully observed that it had been there all along; it just was no longer blocked by plastic barriers.

Trip #6 – February 14, 2013 – Physical therapy; Category: personal care – 3 miles

I had my combination U lock over the handlebars and, even though I had twisted the numbers, it managed to open itself up and fall off.

Trip #7 – February 14, 2013 – Harris Teeter; Category: breakfast – 1 block

Okay, I was getting a few groceries, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to use enough categories, so I counted the free samples of bread, cheese, and fruit that I ate while walking the aisles of H-T as a breakfast visit. I observed the truly shitty placement of the bike rack…way beyond all the miles of shopping carts and underneath a ginormous vent that blasted out a hurricane-force, loud, stinky blast of foul air.

Trip #8 – February 14, 2013 – Arlington Central Library; Category: library – 1 mile

I noted a beat up old classic bike already in the rack. As luck would have it, the owner of the cute bike came out at the same time I was leaving. She looked to be nearly 80 years old. We chatted and she told me she can’t be bothered with parking a car everywhere around Arlington. Her bike – get this – was a fixie, no breaks. Go granny!! I asked her how she gets up hills and she told me she gets off the bike and walks. I didn’t think to ask how she stops going down the hills.

Trip #9 – February 15, 2013 – Sun and Moon Yoga; Category: wild card – 3 miles

Although I’ve been teaching yoga for some weeks since my surgery, this was the first class I’d taken – another big hurrah for my recovery. I observed, however, that my combination lock had become a huge pain – the numbers were totally jammed and it made me late for class (boo).

Trip #10 – February 15, 2013 – Big Wheel Bikes; Category: bike shop – couple blocks

The silver lining of my jammed lock was that I got to add another category. The nice fellows at Big Wheel greased the lock for me and it’s been working fine ever since. Oops - no photo and no receipt since I got free service.

Trip #11 – February 15, 2013 – Barnes and Noble; Category: (non-grocery) store – 2 miles

I went in search of literary journals and discovered that there are more bicycle-oriented magazines than literary journals. I again forgot to take a photo, so here’s my receipt. I tried out two new pubs: Tricycle (it’s a Buddhist journal – but, well, good name, too) and Bitch (how can you go wrong with a name like that? I’d seen my daughter reading it and figured I’d check it out).

Trip #12 – February 15, 2013 – Trader Joe’s; Category: grocery store – 2 miles

As the photo shows, a bag of dog food pretty much fills the pannier.

Trip # 13 – February 16, 2013 – Westover Post Office; category: wild card – 1 mile

They have a very strange style of bike parking at the post office, but weird parking is better than none.

Trip #14 – February 20, 2013 Night Trip #1 – Lost Dog; category: dessert – 2 miles

So, the only part of the errandonnee that gave me problems was getting in the night trips. I was never leaving early enough in the morning for it to be dark and then it started getting cold and I couldn’t face going out at night just to satisfy my obsessive adherence to the arbitrary rules of the game. So here was my plan: I biked to the Ballston metro in the morning and figured I would work late enough that by the time I biked back to my neighborhood I could stop and do two errands in the dark. Moreover, I was quite aware that there were 3 meal-oriented categories, none of which I would have really used. But, I decided I deserved to stop for a cookie after all my errandoneruing.

Trip #15 – February 20, 2013 Night Trip #2 – Westover Library; category: library – 1 mile

I walked from where I parked by Lost Dog so that I wouldn’t have to re-lock and strap my light back on. I didn’t want to take the chance of having my good rechargeable light stolen. A few weeks ago, my front blinking light that I left on the “workhorse” bike was stolen while it was parked at the East Falls Church Metro.

So, my final tally: 11 days, 44 miles, 15 errands, 10 categories, 2 night trips, and a whole lot of fun on my bikes. Thanks to Chasing Mailboxes for creating the challenge. It gave me an incentive to do more biking than I otherwise would have – especially on some of the colder days. 

As you can see, it was plenty dark by the time I got home

Appreciation

  

            At last – my first post-surgery bike commute to work. I feel like I’ve crossed a major threshold to full healing. I’m still not lifting much weight with my right arm, but I managed to carry my commuting bike down the stairs with my left hand and had the joy of reuniting with it after a 10 week separation.

            The weather was a perfect 48 degrees, the sun was shining, and I greeted once-familiar sights like old friends: the flat curves on the Custis Trail that bisect the duck pond and the steep hairpin curves that end behind Big Wheel Bikes; the slender, sad-looking man that I think of as the ghost of the Custis Trail, who seems always to be walking there – no matter the weather, day, or time; the steady stream of pedestrians on the approach to Rosslyn; the ride along the Potomac on the Mount Vernon Trail, the arc of clouds crossing the river with me as I ride over Memorial Bridge; wheeling past the White House, happy to have Obama there for four more years; and, of course, the Pennsylvania Avenue cycle track – lights timed just right.

            And there were new sights to appreciate: freshly resurfaced sections of the Custis, making me remember last winter’s detours for repaving; a new curb cut on the Mount Vernon so that it’s no longer necessary to make two sharp 90 degree turns by the bridge to Theodore Roosevelt Island. But the morning’s highlight was the geese: a multitude of Canada geese were gathered on the National Mall honking noisily, some with long necks reaching upward, others elegantly curved toward the ground, in search of food; some languidly paddling in the water of the reflecting pool, others fluffing out their feathers or preening.

            During this winter of rehab, I’ve been feeling fat, lazy, and confined – missing my usual activity level and the boost of well-being I count on my bike for. But, just like yoga (which I tell my prodigal students will always be there for them when they return), the bike was there all along, patiently waiting for me to feel ready to hop on and ride…all the way to work. Spring is nearly here, and, at least today, I’m optimistic that my old self will bloom along with the daffodils.

More Bike, Less Bus, Movies and a Mouse

As I start building back up to my normal bike riding, I continue to feel more like myself, less trapped. My motivation this weekend was to catch up on pre-Oscar movie viewing and make a Trader Joe’s run for heavy staples (soymilk, yogurt, tofu, trail mix).

On Friday, I had intended to bike to physical therapy but, as I was about to leave the house, it seemed to be raining. I was worried about having to bike home from the metro at the end of the day in the dark rain, so I changed my mind and took the bus. Big mistake. The bus ran way late, making me late for my appointment, although, on the bright side, I’m starting to develop a pretty nice bus stop yoga routine.

So when Saturday dawned foggy and drizzly, I hopped on the bike, undeterred. In the morning there was just a light mist, but by afternoon, the sun had come out and I ended up being overdressed, peeling off layers for the trip home. I saw the hilarious Silver Linings Playbook, did my shopping and got in about 9 miles of bike riding.

This morning, I biked to yoga and – surprise – at long last there was bike parking in front of the studio! No more locking my bike to the railing and (slightly) obstructing the yogis’ entrance to the studio (which I always considered somewhat bad form, being the teacher and all). There were still bits of plastic clinging to the “staple” and the cement looked fresh. There was one staple right in front of the studio and another down the block in front of the hardware store. I was delighted to see that, by the time I left, there was another bike locked to the other staple. Although today was even drizzlier than yesterday, the streets of Arlington were peopled with other cyclists, enjoying the mild temperature. After yoga, I grabbed some lunch and went to see Argo. I needed the yoga after that movie, which had me on the edge of my seat.

If you look closely you can still see bits of plastic wrap clinging to the "staple"

On the way home, I took the street route (shorter and fewer hills than the bike path) and chanced to see a small gray mouse cross George Mason Drive in front of me. Seeing how tiny and scared it looked, it made me feel foolish that I have such an overblown fear of the mice that have invaded my house this winter. Worse, I felt ashamed about my vicious attempts to eradicate them in a very un-yogic way. So much for ahimsa (non-harming). What can I say, my two little Westies are falling down on the job: they’re terriers and should have more zeal for hunting small rodents. Still, if I’d been in a motor vehicle, I probably wouldn’t have even seen the mouse – which gave me a moment for reflection this afternoon. Another benefit of bike riding…

Identity Theft

No, I didn’t lose my wallet, and no one hacked my Social Security number. But five weeks ago I had surgery to repair a torn rotator cuff and, in the aftermath, I began to feel like my identity had been stolen away, bit by bit. I didn’t expect to do much the first week or so, besides going through bags of ice and learning to navigate life with my right arm in a sling. But getting out of the sling was the light at the end of my tunnel. I thought that surely, once I was freed of this arm-prison, life would start getting back to normal.

            How wrong I was. Many people had warned me that rehab would be worse than surgery, and they weren’t kidding. Physical therapy three times a week is grueling, as are the exercises I must force myself to do at home. My range of motion is pathetic for anyone, much less a yoga teacher. And while the post-operative pain was minor, my newly freed arm now hangs from my shoulder like a piece of wood – feeling dead and disconnected from my body, except for it’s near-constant ache.

            But worse than these inconveniences, I began to feel old and downtrodden. Without the ability to get around by bike or car, I either walked or used public transit, learning many of Arlington’s bus routes, which I’d previously scorned. On Sundays, buses run once an hour, if at all. Shivering at cold at bus stops, I learned that “schedules” are more of an idea than a reality. And going anywhere took advance planning – checking bus routes and schedules (however inaccurate they were) – and required calculating how far I would have to carry any heavy purchases. A half-gallon of soymilk and a bag of fruit get heavy after a few blocks, especially when you can only use one of your arms for carrying.

Who was I anymore? I felt like I just trudged to and from PT and work by bus and metro, got home in the dark, ate dinner, and spent 9-10 hours in bed, trying to sleep, the arm pain worse at night. Watching movies while I rode the stationary bike in my basement was my “fun.” And then, on top of everything, I developed a sensitive blister on the sole of my left heel. Now I couldn’t even walk more than a block or two without pain.

So this morning I experimented with where I could hold my right arm in front of me and decided to see if it could reach the handlebar of my bike. My motivation was getting to the Falls Church farmer’s market – a vision of my favorite Gold Rush apples spurring me into action. I was not deterred by the 40-degree weather and figured the 2-mile trip, which had only mild hills, would be a good maiden voyage.

Reaching the handlebar wasn’t too much of a stretch, though I did have to periodically let my arm dangle at my side. I rode with extra caution, as sudden movements send a searing pain through my arm that reverberates for minutes afterwards.

I made it to the market without a hitch, loaded 6 pounds of apples into my pannier, and headed home with a smile on my face, the joy of normalcy restored, at least somewhat, to my life. I don’t think I’m ready for big hills or traffic-filled streets, but I’m starting to feel like myself again. I bit into my apple, tart and crisp, just the way I like them. The sweet part was the feeling of liberation I felt by getting back on my bike.

Healing: Looking Forward to Pain

Two down, two to go: I’m halfway through having my right arm in a sling for 4 weeks. My rotator cuff is re-anchored and, now, tight as a drum – but healing. Surgery and post-op pain have been minor inconveniences. The happy miracle was the effectiveness of a yoga breathing technique: long deep belly breaths, using an image of sending healing prana into the pain, and removing it through the breath. I was amazed that as few as 2 rounds of this breathing technique TOTALLY removed the pain and was relieved to need no drug stronger than ibuprofen…and a lot of ice.

During the first week, every small daily task I’d taken for granted as an able-bodied person took forever. Getting dressed, eating, and bathing all take a lot longer with one hand. I moved the computer mouse to the left, but learning to use it with my non-dominant hand, to click and drag, much less type, felt awkward and was frustratingly s…l…o…w.

But by week two, I felt more energetic and started to go for little walks around the neighborhood, ride my stationary bike, and make a few trips by public transport. Over the weekend, in desperation to get out of the house and see a movie, I took two buses to see The Other Son – a moving tale of switched identities between an Israeli and a Palestinian, and what they and their families learned about each others’ cultures. But it was a lovely day and the hour-long, not-exactly-direct, bus trip would have taken just half an hour by bike (not to mention being free).

When I’m out, I look wistfully at the cyclists, taking trips in this still-mild winter weather. Every day, I force myself to get on the stationary bike. It burns calories, it tones my muscles, it works my heart, but there is no joy in the activity, as there is whenever I ride my “real” bike. And, of course, I don’t get anywhere on it. No matter how long I ride, I’m still sitting in my basement, drenched in sweat. I miss the momentum, the sun and wind on my face, the things I see, the places I go, and even the prickling cold fingers and ears. Several times this week, as I’ve been getting ready for a short walking errand, the thought has flashed through my head: how hard would it be to ride my bike 1-handed? But I quickly squelch that rogue thought. I wouldn’t be comfortable riding with one hand, even if the other wasn’t confined to a sling. I’m not about to risk a crash and mess up my newly repaired shoulder.

 

I know that I’ll ride my real bike again and that, eventually, I’ll be able to stretch my right arm above my head, lift heavy objects, and invigorate my whole body with a downward-facing dog pose. So I cultivate patience, looking forward to starting the painful, grueling process of PT next week. Unlike riding my stationary bike, at least I’ll be getting somewhere.

Cycle Chic...Moi?

I am generally as far from “cycle chic” as it gets. My typical commute is 10 miles and I sweat like a pig – even in cold weather. So biking in work clothes…I don’t think so. Besides, comfort is more my style, and I’m usually clad in lycra or fleece – depending on the season. However, if I’m just riding my bike to the metro, I try to wear my “normal” clothes (which aren’t very chic, but a cut above sweat pants).

But this morning, I was taking the Arlington wiggle to the Ballston metro – about a 3-mile ride and it was brisk, but not too cold. On a whim, I put on black tights, short little boots and a claret-colored Betsey Johnson dress with a swingy skirt that I nabbed for a couple dollars in an Olympia, WA thrift store. Topped off with a tight black jacket and a scarf wound round my neck, I took off about 8:20 a.m. feeling, well, chic.

The “wiggle” takes me through my Arlington, VA neighborhood, and I was just in time for the elementary school bus pick-ups. The streets were swarmed with the big yellow monsters, and there were loads of kids with their parents clustered at the bus stops. I secretly hoped that I was inspiring the bus stop kids to beg their parents to let them bike to school, feeling like a good role model for the joys of bike riding.

Maybe it was my imagination, or perhaps it was my good mood – feeling so light and free on my bike, and having my current favorite song-to-bike-to come on Pandora (J Band, Take Our Turn – I don’t care if it is about Jesus) but I definitely think I got a lot more smiles from people while I was wearing my “chic” outfit. Is there something about wearing lycra that creates a subliminal (if not totally conscious) antipathy in non-bikers? Are all people in lycra associated with the obnoxious and impatient racer-types who cut in and out of traffic and seem grimly intense in their pursuit of speed? Or is it just that people still prefer to see a woman in a dress than in sports gear?

In any case, it made me re-think this whole “cycle chic” debate. I have to say, riding in tights and a loose, swingy, stretchy skirt was as comfortable as could be. Sadly, it was really, truly my last ride before shoulder surgery, but once I’m out of the sling, I may rethink my bike attire, trying to add some more “normal” clothes for short trips and see if the smiles are sustained.