So the title of this post says it all, right? However, I'm going to go into some detail in the hopes that maybe I'll inspire other ladies out there to give their bikes a look and not feel like every little tweak requires the time and cost of a bicycle mechanic. So here's the back story and some pics...

A few weeks ago on a training run to work on keeping a steady and fast pace, I took a route that contained quite a few pot holes. On this ride, I attained the knowledge and ability of the bunny hop...which, probably not very wisely considering I ride a road bike, I began to employ on my route to work. I used it specifically to hop over the huge set of potholes on 4th Street, just a couple of blocks west of La Brea. This is where I hopped the potholes and the next time I braked, felt the chug, chug, chug response from my right caliper, which inevitably meant a dent in my rear wheel rim. [Insert swearing and cursing here.]

So, I embarked upon the task of repairing the dent, which took me through buying a spoke wrench, loosening the spokes, banging on the wheel like a cavewoman, then truing the wheel. Thanks to BicycleTutor.com, I did a fair job on my first try. On the next rides I didn't feel it at all. However, after a terrible training ride on Sunset (during which a male motorist in a BMW actively tried to run  me off the road), I felt the dent reappearing. So it was clear to me that before my Double Century on March 20th, I would have to do some more work on the rear wheel. "Well," I thought, "I might as well also fix the front derailleur like I've been saying I would." Here's the story with the front derailleur.

If you've read my previous blog posts, you'll know that I obtained my Schwinn Le Tour (which I've measured at 56cm, a full 5cm too big for me) after my beautiful blue Huffy with lovely collapsing rear baskets and faulty brakes was stolen. When I purchased the bike, the girl who sold it to me told me that the front derailleur had never worked, and that her bike mechanic had never been able to get it to work. In a repair session with Ohaijoe, he took a look at it and said it probably just needed to be aligned or have the cable tightened. I left it as it was for a long time because I honestly wasn't needing the top gear, until I wanted to go faster and build more momentum going downhill. 

My experience with people saying that their bike mechanic or "guy" has looked at it lots of times but can't fix it means that their bike guy is an idiot or not really trying or doing the work. It's a man-made and man-powered device. It can't be some mystery why it's not working. It's not magic. I mean, riding a bike is certainly magical, but bike repair? Not magic and certainly not rocket science. (Look, if I can fix something, it's not rocket science.)

So on Friday, March 19th, I settled down in my living room with my tools, my netbook, and my bicycle set up on my trainer (in absence of a bike stand this was an excellent alternative). 

First things first, the front derailleur. I watched the tutorial on BicycleTutor.com, and playing with the derailleur, decided the problem was with the lower gear limit screw. I adjusted it, but it still wasn't shifting. It appeared to me the cable just wasn't pulling it back all the way. So onto the forums I went. Some one there suggested lubing the pivot points. So I did, then...abracadabra! It shifted! I started yelling and shouting with joy. I fixed it! It worked! No, no, you don't understand...

IT WORKED AND I FIXED IT! 

Okay, more effusiveness later, onto the rim...well, let's make this short: I dismantled, loosened spokes, banged away, trued the wheel, reassembled. It's not perfect, and I think I might have to break down and buy a new wheel or rim, can't decide which. If I buy a new rim, then I get to install spokes, true it, and install the cartridge. If it's a wheel that I buy, I just get to install the cartridge. It's all a matter of how big a project I want to take on. Here are the pics from the repair day.

I realize it sort of looks like my bike is doing yoga...

All of this has inspired me to do something I never would have thought I would do. I'm going to build myself a new commuter bike. From scratch. All by myself. And it will work. And then I'll paint it pink and put streamers on it. How many people can say they built their mode of transportation? Not many, I'd guess.
Unless you're a cyclist. And we rock.

I think there are a lot of women out there who think that this kind of lifestyle is very far away from them, and as much as they'd like to start riding a bike and using it as a true means of transportation, it's just not possible. It's too scary. But it's not. We all thought that at first. But little by little, we become more confident on the road. You connect with the community and learn tips and tricks to dealing with the mean streets and beautiful streets of Los Angeles. And one day, you blow a flat. You patch the tube and start to gain confidence that you could do more. You buy new tires for your Death Machine and install those. You buy grip tape and think maybe you could do more. You get repair and maintenance tips from other cyclists. Then one day you get a dent in your rear rim and don't want to spend money to buy a new one or to fix it, so out come the tools, and you scour Google and Twitter for advice on rim dents. Then you true a wheel and adjust your front derailleur. Just a little while ago, you were changing a tube and now you're building a bike!

Baby steps, ladies, but don't let the guys fool you. It ain't rocket science. So pull out your spoke wrench and multi-tool and let's build a bike!


PS: The bike build project will be full documented here. Promise. 

So, on February 28th, 2010, I embarked on my longest ride yet. I left from my apartment and rode all the way to the Amtrak train station in San Diego. The results? 140 miles, 13 hours exactly for total time, about 10 hours for total ride time (those little stops add up). 

This ride felt great! I blasted through the entire thing, kept my pace averaging 15mph (on the flats it was about 17-18mph and hills was 5-8 depending on grade)...and I only had 5 gears (because my front derailleur has been out of commission since purchase). 

Anyways, this is just a quick sum up since so much has happened since then. It was a great ride, and inspired me for my next feat, which I'll tell you about in an upcoming post: the Double Century Odyssey...200 miles!

I just don’t know where to start. The strangeness that occurred tonight is still turning over in my head, and I’m trying to replay the events of the night and all the details, but here goes.

About a week ago, my friend Rachel and I decided that we wanted to ride around Friday night then find a place for a beer. We didn’t want to ride LA Critical Mass (although we generally enjoy riding with them) because we had both heard and seen a lot of LAPD targeting, and we just didn’t have the energy for the big group. We decided we would meet up at LACMA, where I work, take in some art, ride around a bit, and then find some food and beer. She invited her boyfriend, and I invited some other cyclist buddies to join this “nonride.” Once I tweeted about it, others chimed in that had we planned earlier, they would be interested, so I will do another, but onto tonight’s “carnage.”

After we met up at LACMA, we started off on the 8-10 mile route I had plotted. Now, even though we weren’t riding LA Critical Mass, I had plotted the route in honor of them, meaning we were taking main arterial roads, obeying traffic code, and taking the lane. I hadn’t originally planned it this way, but I got into my head that it would be really fun to take the four of us onto arterial roads, ride legally, and make the cars deal with us. The other three cyclists were all fairly seasoned vehicular cyclists, so they weren’t squeamish on the arteries, so we set off.

We headed East on Wilshire, and as we reached La Brea and pulled into the left turn lane, I was rather surprised that not one motorist honked at us or even came remotely close to buzzing us. We headed up La Brea and entered the left turn lane onto 3rd Street, and still no problems. We headed down 3rd, taking up the right hand lane entirely, went through the Grove, came out on Fairfax, and turned onto Beverly. At some point when we were on Beverly, apparently a police officer followed me as I took the lane for a minute (I never saw him, this is according to my friends who were following me), but apparently he determined I wasn’t doing anything wrong as he went on his way.

Here’s the incident of note for the night.

We were on Beverly, nearing the Larchmont area, and we had taken the lane, but riding single file. We were approaching a light, and I noticed that a car had squeezed between me and John, and the car, a black luxury sedan, was following me rather closely, even though there was no one in the left hand lane, and they had room to pass. I pass under the light, realizing as I do so, that it had just changed and my friends were stuck at the light. I turn my head to the left to see if they made it and to check on the car that is following me. At this point, the driver lays on his horn, and I mean LAYS on his horn. It blasts for a good 6 or 7 seconds. At this point I’m slowing down to pull over and wait for my friends, but as there are cars parked along Beverly, I have to go up another block. So before I can pull over the car changes lanes, still driving slowly, pulls up next to me, and some rich woman in her late 40s/early 50s with white hair screws up her face, making her meanest Wicked Witch of the West/Evil Stepmother face, and SCREAMS at the top of her lungs “YOU’RE GOING TO KILL US ALL!!!!!”

Apparently, to this woman, my bicycle is a death machine, and my riding it in the street is like me pointing a loaded gun at her. Seriously, she yelled it like I was shooting off a shotgun into a crowded nursery.

So I’m sure many people have wonderful retorts for Mrs. I’m Afraid of Bikes. I knew it wasn’t worth it from the moment Mr. I’m Afraid of Bikes (the driver) laid on his horn. I looked at her and immediately burst into hysterical laughter. HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER. I mean, was I supposed to take her seriously? An old woman leaning out of her car window to scream about how I’m going to kill her with my bicycle? Seriously? 

I considered it a victory that I didn't give this woman what she wanted, which was to fluster me, to engage and provoke me into yelling and screaming across traffic lanes, and ultimately to push me off the road. You can scream all you want, Mrs. I'm Afraid of Bikes. I'm the 10 Speed Avenger, and tonight I won. 

Aside from one other honker, the rest of the ride was fairly uneventful. We took Vine up to Hollywood, rode through Hollywood (taking the lane the whole way), then cut down to Santa Monica Blvd. and Barney’s Beanery, where we all laughed heartily over Mrs. I’m Afraid of Bikes.

So I’ve named the nonride, the Nonride to Nowhere. It’s inspired by District Court Judge Lewis Kaplan who ruled that if a group of more than 50 cyclists ride in New York City, then they need a parade permit (or something to that effect). My biggest question was what if you have 50 cyclists who all just happen to be riding in the same direction? Every night more than 50 cars parade through NYC to cause rush hour traffic, and those motorists don’t need permits. So it’s not a ride. We just all happen to be heading to the same place. The goal is to meet somewhere with a small group then take an 8 to 10 mile route of major arterial roads (and take the lane!) to the main meet up location where we eat, drink, and be merry. Ride completely legal, be traffic, and TAKE THE LANE. Ideally, we’d have 4-5 groups of 4-5 people each heading to the same area. 

Follow me on twitter as danceralamode to stay tuned for details on the next Nonride to Nowhere, which will occur in a few weeks. 

Addition!
Whoops! I meant to add that right after the incident with Mrs. I'm Afraid of Bikes, I hoped and prayed aloud that she and her gentleman, as they were heading East, would run into our friends in LA Critical Mass, whom we were pretty sure were circling downtown then heading to Hollywood. I hope they did run into LACM. And I hope it was at the Circle of Death. Thanks LACM!

So...on December 25, 2009 I rode my first century. On January 14th I pushed to about 115 miles, then followed that up with 75 miles on January 15th (the next day!). 


This weekend I'm going to attempt to roll 150 miles in approximately 12.5 hours. I will be tweeting along the way...I'll be following up with post about the ride later. 


Below is my rather ambitious schedule...


Entering LA River Route at 6am, complete the 30 mile stretch to Long Beach by 8am, and the 15 miles from the LBC to Huntington Beach by 9am. Then I get a 15 minute break to cry, eat, drink water, then cry a little more. By 1015am I will be entering Laguna Hell, I'm hoping by 1115am I will have conquered the 8.8 miles of rolling hills. Based on past experience, I should be able to handle it. By Noon I will be entering San Onofre State Beach territory, and at that point I will find a park bench, vomit, cry, eat, vomit, cry, and drink some gatorade...not necessarily in that order. I will be out of San Onofre and entering Pendleton at 130pm (maybe I'll stop to vomit on the base) in Oceanside by 215, going through Solano Beach by 315 and hitting the hills in La Jolla by 415...ish. I expect to be at the train station around 6...although it all depends on how many times I have to stop and cry. (I'm only sort of joking about the crying thing. The last Century was so rough I almost did cry out of sheer exhaustion.) 


So I'll see you on the other side of 150 miles...the San Diego side. 

Okay, despite my late night writing session, I am still working on my letter to MTA. In the meantime, I'm going to attempt to post every day for the next seven days and chronicle all my car-free errands, etc. Getting back to my roots...

The sun is out, the road is relatively dry, and people are driving more or less like sane creatures again. Thank you, weather gods! 

One of my favorite bicycling blogs is Ted Rogers' Biking in LA. His viewpoint on cycling issues and policies empathizes with the cyclist while being realistic about the world we live in--one dominated by cars. It's not uncommon for me to engage in the discourse in the blog's comments section, as I did with his post "Two-wheeled second class citizens on LA's Metro rails."  

Below is my comment:

"danceralamode Says:
January 22, 2010 at 3:03 pm | Reply

I quite frequently take the Red, Purple, Green, and Blue lines with my bicycle. Regarding the limitations during rush hour, I’ve never seen any bus driver or train driver enforce them, and I’ve never worried about it. Regarding this two per train car rule…I’ve been on the train with people crammed up against me and my bike and there are three other bikes in that car. I have never seen any enforcement of these rules.

So if they aren’t enforced, why are they even rules? What really irks me is the bike racks on buses that have only two spaces. I can’t count how many times I’ve had to let two or three buses pass me because there was no room for me, including on New Year’s Eve, at 4am. The bus driver politely stopped and opened her door and just stared at me. She asked me if I was getting on, and I said “Well, I can’t get on with my bike, can I? And your rack is full.” And she just stared at me like I was just going to leave my bike on the sidewalk. So at 4am on New Year’s Eve I had to brave the streets with speeding drunk drivers (people-including PD-doing over 60mph on Wilshire Blvd according to the speed scanner posted there).

I’ve been meaning to write Metro a letter. I feel very strongly that they put me in a precarious situation (and yes I know I had options, but the option of lock my bike on the street in Santa Monica until I can come and get it, when I live on the other side of LA is not really an option)."

Ted suggested I write a letter, and he would post it. Therefore, I am up at 3:40am, because words have been floating through my head, writing a letter to Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa. The only other time I have written a letter to an elected official (aside from form petitions online) is when I wrote to Senators Feinstein and Boxer as well as former President Bush regarding ratifying a document that solidified the US's stance against equal rights for women throughout the world. I had read a story about a woman in a 3rd world, civil war ripped country who had to undergo unspeakable horrors, and I felt that our country could take a definitive stance towards this kind of treatment of women. Without going into details, the woman's story infuriated me to the point where I dropped everything and started writing my representatives. 


This situation is different: this actually happened to me. And the more I think about it, the more angry I should be. I was put in very real danger. How many stories have we read recently about cyclists being mowed down by drunk drivers? And here I am, basically forced to brave the streets of LA on New Year's Eve. I guess it's time to stop talking and stand up and actually SAY something. So here's to telling your story!

So on Thursday I bit the bullet and enjoyed the hospitality of Metro Line #16. The bus was strangely empty. (I assumed with the rain that all of us who walk or ride would be cramming on with all the bus-riding regulars.) I have to walk five or six blocks from the bus stop to work (and the reverse in the evening), and on the way back to the bus stop, amidst the thunder and rain, my umbrella stopped protecting my head and became a side fender. Fairfax was so flooded that every car that passed me inadvertently (or advertently) sent a wave of rain water at me. (Thank goodness I have a huge rain/cold weather coat that my mother bought me many years ago and that I didn't throw out!)

Today I saw blue sky and decided to chance the ride...Part of me desperately wants to write about the guy who failed to yield the right of way to me (I was able to stop in time, so I wasn't in danger) because it's so absolutely frustrating and irritating, but I also feel like it's just a repeat of the same old story. Negligent driver, moving vehicle violation, me mad...Sigh...

I've decided I'm going to purchase some sort of loud horn to get these jerks' attention when they make these infractions. I think the most irritating part is that no matter how much I wave my arms, etc., THEY NEVER EVEN LOOK AROUND OR SEE ME! It's one thing to make a mistake and recognize that, "WOW! I could've hit that person, I should be more careful." (I can clearly recall a few moments like that from my past life as a motorist.) It's an entirely different thing to be totally oblivious to anything else on the road. We all have a responsibility to watch out for ALL other road users. (Oh crap, here I am, preaching to the choir.)

On another note, for about 3 blocks a woman in an older white Camry or Accord waited patiently to pass me. I was very consciously taking the lane (somewhat to prevent her from right-hooking me), and she was patient, and the second I had the chance, I coasted to the right and waved her around me. Sadly, I noticed she was talking into her phone like a walkie-talkie. At least she was driving slowly? I wanted to say, "Yea! There are considerate drivers out there!" And then I saw her on the phone...Now I'm torn.

Regardless of the torrential rainstorms plundering Los Angeles this week, I have ridden to work both on Tuesday and today. Tuesday was no problem. I managed to get into work and home during huge windows in the rain. I didn't notice any particularly unusual negligent driving from motorists, just the usual stuff, right hooks, illegal passes, failure to yield the right of way, etc., but all these infractions I was able to predict. Even on the ride into work on Wednesday, I felt pretty safe. 


Then the storm hit.