end of the first round of Commute for a Cause

My first round of Commute for a Cause ended last week.

One of the first things I did when it ended was look through my Bike Log to gather some data about my mileage:

• The Cause ran for 196 days.
• I rode 1,383 miles.
• I was on the bike 72/196 days.
• 71% of my mileage was on my touring bike.
• 25% was on my single-speed mountain bike.
• 2% was on my fixed-gear bike, and 2% was on my single-speed 'cross bike.

Here's my mileage by week:

I also saved 82 gallons of gasoline and prevented 1,640 pounds of CO2 from entering the atmosphere.

I have to admit that I am surprised by some of these numbers - mostly that I was on the bike "only" 72 of 196 days. I guess I had this vision of myself putting up some crazy number, definitely over 100 days. But that thinking didn't last long when I remembered why I started Commute for a Cause. I started it as a way to combine my love for biking and living a more sustainable life, and also to give back to my community.

Looking back, the seed for the idea was planted on my birthday in April - in a pub in New Zealand. Adria and I were recapping my 36th year and talking about goals for my 37th year. One of the things I told her was "I want to take my biking to the next level this year." At the time I thought the "next level" was competing in endurance single-speed mountain bike races or training for and competing in the upcoming cyclocross season.

When we returned from vacation the idea simmered, and I returned to my daily routine. Part of my routine at that point consisted of volunteering for a local non-profit organization. Around the same time some great life events happened and I needed more time to support myself, so I had to stop volunteering. But the desire to give back to my community was still strong. Around the same time, Adria's sister was running a half-marathon to raise money for cancer awareness through Team In Training, and that's when it hit me! Why not use my bike to raise money for a local non-profit? It was a perfect way to combine my love for biking, sustainability, and community.


Choosing the Homeless Garden Project was an easy choice and a perfect fit for my first Cause. HGP was created nearly 20 years ago as a way to "...provide job-training and meaningful work in a therapeutic environment" (from their website). I earn my paycheck by working in the organic produce business, so there's an obvious connection to sustainability with HGP. And by teaching homeless people important transferable job skills, HGP is helping strengthen our community.

If you take a few minutes to click through some of my previous posts, you'll get a little more insight into the great things that HGP is doing and why donating any amount of money would be greatly appreciated. There are two ways to donate. The easiest way is to click here and download the pledge form. If you do this, have a look at their "Wish List" - these are the tools that are needed to keep the HGP going. When you donate through their website the money goes directly to them. The other way to donate, and just as safe, is to get the money to me and I'll present all donations to HGP at once. Obviously, you'll probably only do that if you know me and know how to get hold of me.

You can also support them by visiting their retail store (perfect for holiday gifts) located in Santa Cruz at 30 West Cliff Drive @ Depot Park or online. To all the men out there...their store has lots of good stuff for the women in your life - homemade beeswax candles, wreaths and lots of soft, knitted things. Remember, all the goods here are produced locally, stay in the community, and go towards a wonderful cause.

And stay tuned for round two of Commute for a Cause. I'm researching the next non-profit to ride for, and also working on moving this blog onto its own webpage. I'm taking a break from updating this blog until the next round starts on January 1st.

585 miles in 23 days?

Forty days ago, I set a big goal - I wanted to finish my first round of Commute for a Cause with 850 miles in the last 60 (or so) days. Well, there are 23 days left in this first go (including today, since I'm writing this at 7am) and I've got 585 miles to go. Looking back over my bike log, I've been on my bike only 13 days since I set that goal 40 days ago. Thirteen days of riding in 40 days?! Really?? Why?? Flipping through my bike log for those days, here's what I had pencilled in on the days that I didn't ride. Keep in mind that every day that I didn't ride doesn't have an explanation:

• Disneyland (3 days)
• First big storm of the season, biggest since 1962 (1 day)
• Work stuff (2 days)
• Texas (3 days)
• Charlotte, NC (5 days)

So a little bit of travel and a little bit of work stuff has kept me off my bike recently.

If I'm going to make my goal of 850 miles in 60 days, then I need to average 27 miles per day for the next 23 days. The challenge with that, which I'm just now discovering, is that the type of riding I do doesn't support 30+ miles per day. I commute to work and I ride trails. I don't own a fast road bike - one that I can hop on and cover 50 miles in a few hours. That type of riding has never interested me, and if I had that type of bike I wouldn't be writing this post. So whether or not I make my goal, I've learned one thing - that I'm still doing the type of riding I love for the right reasons for a good cause.

And speaking of a good cause, take a minute to check out the Homeless Garden Project's current wish list. You can also click here to donate to Commute for a Cause. All the money I raise is going to support HGP. Thanks!

keep it simple

I'm sitting in the airport in Charlotte, North Carolina right now waiting to board a plane back to California. I've been out here all week for work, and managed to squeeze in a mountain bike ride on Tuesday.

I rode with a guy I know who lives here. Turns out my timing was perfect, because for the last 15 years or so, he's been organizing a Tuesday night ride with his friends. One of the guys owns a local bike shop and hooked me up with a bike - the Kona Hei Hei.

This bike, in many important ways, is the exact opposite of my mountain bike at home. This bike is full suspension - mine is a hardtail. This bike has gears - mine has but one. Needless to say, it took me a while to settle into it.

The group turned out to be a big one - larger than I have ever ridden with - 14 guys. There were a few guys named John, so by about the middle of the ride I was calling everybody John. They didn't care, and in return they called me the "new guy." During the ride we lost three Johns, because one of the Johns crashed real good and it took two other Johns to get him out.

We rode a great trail at the National Whitewater Center.

I was impressed with a couple of things on this ride. First, this group hammered the entire time. We started off fast with few stops and never slowed down. In an hour-and-a-half of riding, we stopped less than five times to regroup. That's rare in a group ride this big, and due to the fact that they ride so often together, I reckon. I was also impressed with the quality of the trails we were riding. Fifteen miles of singletrack with lots of climbing and tight turns. Didn't hurt that it was also a full moon that night.

So now the big question...do I want to go back to a geared, full suspension bike? The answer is a solid "no", and that makes me happy. Keep it simple.

what my morning commute looks like

It's completely dark now on my morning commute.

Here's the view I get to enjoy on my way down Hwy 9.

long way home today

I left work this afternoon not knowing my route home.

Before I left, I enjoyed this juice that I made in the morning - 4 carrots, 3 celery pieces, and about a cup of spinach.

Ten minutes later I ended up at the ocean.

About 15 minutes after that, I ended up in downtown Santa Cruz.

It was there where I saw the most unique street performer yet. She was perched on a folding wooden stool and had an old typewriter propped in front of her on a beat up old suitcase. A small stack of typing paper was being held to the ground by her feet. It was unusually cold and windy for Santa Cruz, and she was just sitting there staring ahead as I rode by. I got off my bike and walked back in front of her to ask her what she was doing. I didn't have to ask, because her purpose was stenciled on the front of the beat up suitcase.

So I had her type something up for me. She even addressed it in an envelope.

Ten minutes after that I took a detour behind some warehouses and found this nice bike path.

The Four Laws of Bike Commuting

I posted this a while back on my other blog and think it's relevant to post here, as well.

I wrote it in February, 2009.

A few aspects of my life have changed since I wrote this post - I got engaged (!), I bought a truck, and I moved away from the beach and into the redwoods. The move has added an hour to my bike commute to and from work, and about 14 miles. The move has also helped me realize that owning a car doesn't mean I have to use it all the time. Most days, I still commute on my bicycle. I still gather food on my bicycle. When my body needs a rest, I drive.

****Here's the original post, written in February 2009****
I made a choice 18 months ago to sell my car and support myself on a bicycle. I was inspired by a book (How to Live Well Without a Car). The premise of this book is "If you can get to work reliably without a car, you don't need one."

I molded my life around this premise. Luckily, I live and work in Santa Cruz so getting to work without a car was not dificult. The rest of my daily routine - surfing, yoga, mountain biking, and food gathering are all within a four-mile radius of my home. I am 106 steps for the ocean for suring; I am four miles from the yoga dive; I am a 45-minute bike ride from epic trails; and I am less than one mile from the organic market. For the past 18 months, I have definitely learned how to live will without a car.

Supporting myself on a bicycle for 18 months has taught me a lot about myself. So far, I have distilled these learnings into my "Four Laws of Bicycle Commuting."

1. Have fun.
Sometimes I take for granted that I'm on a bike. Usually this occurs because I'm on my way to work, and in my head I'm already there. When I catch myself in this mindset, I remind myself that "Hey, I'm on my bike! I'm not at work yet!!"

My point here is to always have fun on your bike. You made the choice to get on it - revel in it! All those other things can wait. Some ways that I have fun on my bike include taking and sharing pictures of stuff I see on my ride. You'd be surprised how interested people may be to see, for example, a morning commute from a bicyclist's perspective. The things that you may take for granted when you're on your bike are things that people who commute by car may NEVER experience. And your pictures may inspire your friends, family, co-workers to get on a bike.

Another way to have fun is to talk to people you encounter on your rides. Fellow cyclists are the obvious, and easiest, choice here. I always push myself to talk to other people, too. For example, one time, while stopped at a light, I started talking to a man in a convertible because his gas tank lid was open and dangling all around. I mentioned it to him, we joked about it; and as I was screwing it back in for him, we talked about random stuff.

A third way to have fun on your bicycle is to explore new routes to your destinations. The trigger for me to find a new route is when I stop seeing new things on my current route. Looking at my world from a new perspective injects adventure into my life. And think about it this way...not only have you gotten out of your car, you've started looking for the least direct route to get you to your destination. This "slowing down" has so many downstream benefits...it expands your world, and if it adds a few more miles to your route then you've gotten healthier and stronger, as well.

2. Be prepared.
Bicycles are empowering. The great aspect of bicycles is that, unlike cars, any of us can learn how to maintain and repair them with just a little knowledge. This empowering feeling is a big motivator for me to stay on my bike.

Take the time to learn how your bike works. For example, how does the chain move into different gears? How do the brakes slow you down? How do the wheels fit into the bike frame?

By learning the basics of how your bike functions, you are empowering yourself to diagnose and possibly fix the "mystery noises" that you may hear. If you don't have the knowledge to fix the problem yourself, you are more helpful to the bike mechanic when explaining the issue to him.

Also, stay in tune with the weather. Depending on where you live and the time of year, this might mean carrying extra clothing appropriate for changing weather conditions. For example, in the four month rainy season here in California, the following items never leave my bike: lightweight, waterproof rain pants; an extra pair of wool socks (wool is the best at keeping you warm even when it gets wet); a lightweight rain jacket. I keep all of these in a stuff sack in one of my panniers.

Another item that's in the stuff sack is extra lighting and batteries. Some bike commuters will argue this point and tell you it's excessive. It is not excessive, and it supports Law #1. Remember, the point of bike commuting is not always to get from A to B as quickly as possible. There will be times when you want to explore. Having backup lighting supports the "fun" aspect, while also empowering you.

Another way to be prepared is to communicate. Communicate your route to someone before leaving. This person can be a family member, your co-workers, or your neighbor. Make sure it's someone who knows where you live and is in some sort of contact with you on a daily basis. Don't make this a burden for you or for them, though. Keep it simple. For example, every morning I tell my fiancee, "Hey, Sweets...I'm going to take Glen Canyon to work this morning." She knows what that means. Then when I get to work, I text her to let her know I'm at work. At the end of my workday, we touch base again on my route home - either a quick phone call or text message.

You also need to be prepared to communicate with emergency response personnel in the case of an accident. Spend $10 on a RoadID. Accept this and don't let it deter you from riding. If you are involved in an accident you will either be able to, or not be able to, speak for yourself. In either case it is advisable to have all of your urgent personal and medical information available in one place. Your driver license, tucked somewhere in a bag, under your lunch and between your laptop and your coffee thermos, is not acceptable. Spend $10 on a RoadID.

The third piece of communication is knowing how to interact with car traffic. Does your area support bike culture? Next time you are out, look for signs that support bike culture - bike lanes, signage that instructs autos to share the road with bicycles, bike racks, other cyclists, etc.). The heavier the car-culture, the more important it is to know how to interact with autos. You are a bicycle advocate when you are on your bike. Do not perpetuate the image of some cyclists as "anarchists" who don't follow the road rules. Ride with traffic, not against it. Signal your turns (your left or right arm extended, depending on which way you intend to turn, will do the job). Ride visibly, predictably, and defensively. Know and honor the rules of the road; and most importantly stand up for bicyclist's rights to use the roads.

3. Don't bitch.
So many days during the rainy season, I would arrive at work after my morning commute in the rain. Stoked because I was prepared for the weather and had the right clothing, I would roll my bike into my office, remove my panniers, shake off the rain, and pull out my dry clothes. I never complained because I was energized with what I had just done.

By commuting on your bike, you are making a choice that some people may not understand. Keep your chin up, always. Remember that you have the power to become a bicycle advocate! And you can do it without even saying a word.

4. Don't ask for help when things get hard.
Don't let people bail you out of adverse conditions unless your welfare is at stake. If you are prepared and look at it as having fun, then your bar for "adverse" becomes very high.

For example, on a morning commute recently I had three flats. This created a lot of hardships for me, but none of them endangered my welfare. First, I only had one spare tube and no patch kit. And I was late for work. And it was raining and cold out. I could have easily called someone to pick me up. Instead, I walked my bike back to my home, and fixed the flat. I called my team at work and told them why I was running late. The feeling of self-sufficiency was empowering.

I can write these rules because I have broken all of them.

I have ridden for days where I was having no fun at all. When I reminded myself to look for the adventure, the fun returned.

I have been stranded far from home in adverse conditions because I didn't have the tools or knowledge to fix a mechanical issue. When I created ways to always be prepared, I never got stranded again.

I have complained about the choice I made, and questioned why I sold my car. When I realized the scope of my endeavor, the questioning stopped.

I have slept in on a cold, dark, rainy morning hoping I could catch a ride with somebody.

And in the end, I was the most grateful and had the most fun when I followed all of these rules.

f-you, Weather Channel!

As I was riding to work this morning (in complete darkness the entire time - oh, the seasons are changing quickly!), I enjoyed how dry the roads were. Next I thought that it would do me good to start getting tuned into the weather so I don't get caught without wet weather gear one day soon. Well, that day has come. It's today, and I'm caught at work without wet weather gear.
The rain started around 8am, and still hasn't let up 3 hours later. My plans to go to the gym (my normal lunch routine) are foiled for now.

Out of curiosity, I checked Weather.com and they blew it on their forecast, so it wouldn't have helped me even if I had checked it before leaving home.

So now the search begins...How to get accurate weather data? We don't have television at home, so finding a reliable, local Internet source is my goal.

conquered U-Conn trail today

I went for a mountain bike ride early this morning.

The skies still had the usual morning fog as I rode down Hwy 9.

I made it up the U-Conn trail without stopping today - 1.85 miles of singletrack on a 6.5% grade on a singlespeed. It felt good. I think the reason I made it is that I set up my GPS to show my heart rate. The last few times I've climbed U-Conn I've noticed that the limiting factor is cardiovascular, not muscular. My legs are strong enough to make it, but I feel like my heart is going to explode. So today, I strapped on the heart rate monitor to see exactly how hard I was working as I climbed. My maximum heart rate is 183 bpm (220 minus my age). As I was climbing the lower section my heart rate topped out around 167 bpm. Then, at the technical and steeper section near the top, my heart rate maxed out at 176 bpm. I figured I couldn't stop until I was giving over 100% (and what exactly would my heart do if it went over 183 bpm, anyway?). Before I knew it I had made it to the top. Here's the entrance to the U-Conn trail, off of Hwy 9.

I explored more trails, logged more waypoints on my GPS, and was bummed to find out when I got home that I never started the GPS. So all of those points aren't saved and I won't get to see my heartrate for the climb up U-Conn.

I do know that I rode for over 2 1/2 hours, covered 22 miles, and climbed over 2,000 feet.

I'm thinking about changing the rear cog on my mountain bike to one with a few more teeth, in order to make climbing easier. Riding a singlespeed definitely makes you a better climber, but it also wears me out faster. I'd like to be able to do longer rides over time, and I think that having an easier gear ratio will conserve energy for longer rides. The downside is that on flats and downhills, I'll start spinning earlier and won't be able to go as fast. We'll see.

You can barely see the trail, but it's there:

Spiderweb:

Singletrack:

like Disneyland

Yesterday I took a step towards my goal of finishing the week strong on my bike.

I left work a couple of hours early because it was slow and we were all caught up, got home and took Greta for a long run in the woods, then jumped on my mountain bike and rode down to the Rincon parking lot to hit the trails around UCSC.

Since I didn't want to drive to the trails, I was on Hwy 9 the four miles to the trails. My legs were stiff and my heart didn't really want to keep up with what I was asking it to do. I thought about turning around, and had a great excuse lined up in my head: "Clay, you've been up since 2:50 this morning. Just go home and relax. If you're not into it on pavement, how are you going to make it on the trails? And do you really want to do that climb to get to the top of the U-Conn trail?" Actually, that's three excuses.

I think it's worth exploring how I talked myself through this.

I started with the most common rebuttal - that, like a lot of endurance sports, it often takes a few miles to "settle in." I've experienced it on long-distance paddleboard events, I've heard other cyclists say it, I've heard Adria say it about her long trail runs, and even when she goes backpacking. Once we let our bodies take over what they really want to be doing (moving), our minds stop chattering.

The other rebuttal I used with myself to stay on my bike was a reminder to myself that the more miles I put in, the more money I raise for the people at the Homeless Garden Project. I stopped by the Garden a few weekends ago and met two people who work there. I'll post about that this weekend.

My final rebuttal was sitting about 16 inches below my face - my GPS! There was no way I was going to turn around after three miles!

So by the time I made it to the bottom of the U-Conn trail, I was nice and loose and my mind wasn't chattering. I climbed to the top of U-Conn, but still had to stop two times on the way. For those readers who don't live in Santa Cruz, or don't ride bikes, or haven't ridden U-Conn trail, there a reason why I am so fascinated by this trail. First, it's beautiful - narrow singletrack on packed dirt with some moderately technical sections, all under redwood trees. That, combined with the fact that it's f'ing steep!! If my math is correct it's a 6.5% grade for 1.85 miles. That and that, combined with the fact that I ride it on a singlespeed. Last season, when I was riding trails more, I was able to easily climb this trail without stopping. I think I'll get back there soon.

After the climb I played around on a lot of the same trails that I was on last Saturday, just reinforcing the way the trails link together. Another one of my biggest challenges is learning how this trail system is laid out. There's no published trail map. Some of these trails are "unauthorized" (i.e. illegal). When I ride with my friends on the trails, I'm impressed with how they link the trails together - we can ride for hours and never be on the same trail.

After about an hour of riding the same trails as last weekend, I explored some trails that branch off of these and saw how these new ones link up. I saved the locations of new trailheads on my GPS to help visualize it. I think what I'm going to discover when I plot all these trails on my GPS is that these woods are like Disneyland - lots of smaller sections of trails linked together to form one giant network of fun.

The condition of the trails was excellent - super tacky from the recent rains, but not muddy. And the heavy winds of the storm made it look like someone took a buzzsaw to the forest.

Today I'm going to ride down to Santa Cruz to run some errands, then do another mountain bike ride on campus. That should be about 40-50 miles. I need to make sure that I eat well all day to sustain.

I really blew it this week and that's all right

I didn't commute in the first big storm of the season. That turned out to be a good idea, after all. The rain started at 9pm on Tuesday and fell non-stop for the next 12 hours. In surfing, the first big storm of the season is referred to as the "first flush", because of all of the schmootz that gets pushed into the oceans. You see a lot of sick surfers following the first flush. There's a similar danger on the roads - the first big rain of the season loosens up all the accumulated oils on the road. So Hwy 9 - the twisty, two-lane road I take from Felton to Santa Cruz on my commute, was probably a giant Slip'n'Slide that morning. Driving to work that day was a wide choice.

I also haven't been riding much this week, even after the rain stopped. Some work obligations have prevented it, but I'm planning on catching up this weekend and next week. To kick it off, I'm going to do a night mountain bike ride this evening after work - hopefully at least 20 miles.

Saturday mountain bike ride

One of the many great things about living in Felton is that I am so close to epic mountain bike trails. This really sunk home a few weekends ago when I drove for an hour and half, round trip, to ride Ft. Ord. I don't regret the ride, but it reminded me that I've got is so good at home!

So on Saturday morning, under the cover of rain clouds and fog, I rode down Hwy 9 towards the Rincon parking lot. Normally, I'm riding down Hwy 9 at 6am on my commuting bike, going to work. Riding a different bike, my single-speed 29'er, made it feel new.

After a 30 minute spin on asphalt, about 4 miles, I reached the trailhead and started the long, steep climb to the top of UCSC (see the profile below at mile 4). I played around on the intricate trail system for about an hour and a half - mostly just re-riding a short loop section, working on some technical skills. I also mapped a lot of trailheads on my GPS so I could find them later.

first rain of the season is coming!

Here's the forecast for Tuesday - looks like our first rain of the season.

I am excited about greeting it on my bike that day. Spring and summer have given us easy riding - nice weather on long days.

The last few weeks we've really felt the change to fall with the short days and cold mornings. And now the rain is here. I know that by the end of winter I will be over the wet commutes - I remember that feeling well from last year.

But right now I'm excited for it.

letter to the editor

My nascent career as a writer has taken a tiny step forward...I am now published in the editorial section of one of Santa Cruz's weekly rags.

Here's the backstory:

Two weeks ago a local bicycle commuter wrote a letter to the editor about the rude treatment she has been receiving lately from car drivers while riding in Santa Cruz. The voice of her article was very passive. Everything happened "to her." I thought that she took no responsibility for her own actions on the road. Reading her letter to the editor got me really fired up, and I quickly drafted a response to it. I came home that night and asked Adria to proofread my response. She made some suggestions on how to soften it.

"It's a little aggressive," she said. And she gave a couple of ideas on how to soften it up.

"Pretend you're talking to your daughter about how to ride bikes," she suggested.

"I like the points you are making, but I think you might turn some readers off," she finished with.

I liked her advice so I smoothed out the rough draft the following day at work and emailed the final draft to the editors of the Santa Cruz Weekly the following day.

Today after work, I grabbed this week's edition and opened to the editorial page. Shazam! My letter was published! Along with two other responses. After reading all three responses in order, I noticed an interesting trend. The first response was short, emotional, and derisive - basically accusing the person who wrote the letter of inflaming an already tense situation between bicyclists and drivers. The third response went the opposite direction. It actually quoted laws from the DMV handbook! Absolutely no emotion. Strictly facts. My response was sandwiched between the other two response on pages 4 & 5. I think that's no accident - I think that the editors saw the reason in my writing - a blend of facts and experience and emotion.

I have included the links to the articles as well as the actual articles themselves, in case the links get broken.

Here's the link to my response, as well as the other two responses: http://www.metrosantacruz.com/metro-santa-cruz/10.07.09/letters-0940.html

Here's the link to the original letter that prompted the responses (scroll to "Note to Drivers"): http://www.metrosantacruz.com/metro-santa-cruz/09.30.09/letters-0939.html

Here's the original article:

Note to Drivers

AS A cyclist, I willingly take on the task of trying to anticipate each car driver's every move. After being hit by cars and having innumerable close calls with car doors, I have learned that I must be obsessively vigilant about my own safety, seeing as how car drivers seem very unaware of my presence on the road. Cyclists are given, at best, about three feet of the road to occupy and this space should be their safety corridor.

I am writing you because I am tired of car drivers' hideous sense of entitlement to all paved surfaces and would like people on the road to hear that cyclists deserve some respect. Today, after barely missing the swing of a few car doors, enduring a steady onslaught of cat-calls, and being cut off by car drivers occupying the bike lane to make right turns or to merge into traffic from driveways or parking lots, I reached the last straw when someone in a white truck hurled their collection of garbage at me. Luckily, the bag of garbage only hit my body and did not knock me off my bike or get stuck in one of my wheels. The fact that this act was degrading is not as upsetting as the fact that it was very dangerous. Throwing things at cyclists can seriously injure them, seeing as how we are in motion and very vulnerable to crashing into the pavement. I honestly believe that getting on my bike should not feel like I am taking my life and dignity into my own hands. I understand that transporting bodies at high speeds is risky, but wouldn't be nice if collective safety and respect for life was everyone's main focus when on the road? To achieve this we'd have to share the road space, communicate, look, slow down and recognize that everyone in traffic probably has an important place to go and would like to arrive there safely. As far as hurling objects and obscene comments at cyclists, there is simply no room for such things at all.

And here's my response:

Feeling Your Pain

As a cyclist who logs many miles commuting with car traffic in Santa Cruz, I have felt your pain about feeling "invisible" when sharing the road with cars.

I would like to share with you a few things I have learned in the last few years of regular bike commuting. As I wrote them down, I realized that they all have to do with confidence. I found that when my confidence on my bike increased, so did the level of respect I got from drivers. Hopefully, these tips will help you, as well.

First, take the lane. Are you hugging the far right-hand side of the lane (if there's no bike lane)? If your complaint is that cars don't "see" you, then take the next step to make yourself seen. For example, when there's no bike lane and you're forced to mix it up with traffic, there's one correct way to do it - take the lane. Taking the lane means riding in at least the right third of the lane. An easy rule of thumb is to ride in the right tire track where cars normally drive. By taking the right third of the lane, you have eliminated the driver's temptation to try to "squeeze" by you, which is how many accidents happen. They have no choice but to slow down and move out of the lane to pass you.

Second, create movement. Drivers notice things that move. As you're approaching an intersection with the right of way, keep pedaling all the way through the intersection. Your spinning legs and reflectors will get drivers' attention. Even if you are going downhill and don't need the speed, keep soft-pedalling to create movement. Besides getting a driver's attention, your pedalling tells him "I'm confident and I'm coming through."

Third, make eye contact. When I ride in traffic I keep my head up and I don't wear sunglasses. At intersections, I look around (especially at the car behind me), and make eye contact with the drivers. There's a connection when humans make eye contact. Add a smile or a nod, and you're guaranteed to get more respect (i.e. space) when the light turns green.

I appreciate your experience, and know the feeling of disrespect that your story conveys. Try these three things next time you're riding in traffic and you'll see that as your confidence increases, you get the respect you are seeking from drivers.

Clayton Ryon, Felton

farmers market

Stopped by the Felton farmer's market on the way home today for beets and kale...

stuff I saw on my commute

Santa Cruz is allowing local artists to paint utility boxes around town.

On one of my morning commutes, I noticed this one for the first time.

It's the lighthouse on West Cliff Drive, which is now a surfing museum.

And here's the real thing...

goals for remainder of this Commute for a Cause

Sixty days left until my first round of Commute for a Cause is over.

Here are some goals for the next 60 days:

1. Set up my own domain and WordPress blog. I've already bought the domain names, and I have a friend donating his time and knowledge to get me set up with WordPress. I need more control over my posts and content than Blogspot allows.

2. Finish with at least 1,700 miles. That means 850 miles in the next 60 days.

3. Update every day, with photos.

4. Select my next non-profit to ride for in the next round.

5. Turn over at least $2,000 to the Homeless Garden Project.

It's OK to go slowly some days

Tuesday's commute to and from work was the same route as Monday's.

But coming home was interesting because there were very heavy winds, which is very unusual.

I was also very, very tired - I think I didn't eat enough during the day. I stopped somewhere on Glen Canyon to eat some emergency trail mix I keep stashed in my panniers. Funny that yesterday I wrote about how I need to keep my energy level up during the day in order to "save something" in order to get myself home, and that I didn't do that yesterday. Normally I push myself really hard to get home quickly, but yesterday I just settled in and took it really slowly. I knew that with the combination of being tired and fighting the wind that there was no point in pushing myself.

I didn't look to see how long it took me to get home by going slowly, but I reckon that it wasn't more than just a few minutes longer than normal. Note to self. It's OK to go slowly some days.

today's commute

The seasons are changing.

I left for work at 6:05 this morning with full lights on.

Passed another bike commuter who was coming up Hwy 9 in the dark. I've seen him for the last few months. He's on a road bike with a backpack and good form. We always acknowledge each other, but have never spoken, seeing as how we're always on opposite sides and both moving pretty quickly.

Here's the GPS profile from today's round trip commute. My morning commute is the first nine miles, mostly downhill with one little climb at mile two - really a pretty easy ride and a great way to start the day. The afternoon commute is a booger with that one big climb (luckily under the cover of big oaks on a twisty road scattered with vineyards and nice, well-thought out properties to admire), and two smaller climbs with heavy, fast car-traffic. The advantage of having the tougher commute going home is that it makes me save something, mental and physical, throughout the day in order to get myself home. And the real booger about it is that last climb you see. That's where we live - 185 feet of climbing in, like, a quarter of a mile! One of these days I'll do the math and figure out the percent grade.

Here's the route. I started at the green arrow in the upper, left-hand corner. It looks like a big leg and foot!

two things that energize me for my afternoon commute

Yerba mate and a surprise phone call from Adria!

I was sipping my yerba mate at work...

...like I do most days at three o'clock, and was thinking about which route I want to take home. I decided to take the longer, steeper way home - up Glen Canyon. If I connect my morning commute, through the redwoods along Hwy 9, with this afternoon route, it makes for a nice loop. I'll run the GPS and try to stitch the two runs together and post it when I get home.

And Adria just surprise-called me. She's on a five-day Yosemite backpacking trip and wasn't supposed to come out until tomorrow, but weather pushed them out a day early. Good news for me!! So now I'm extra excited to get home.

I may still be able to do the night ride on the trails that I've been thinking about for tonight - we'll see.

Looks like I'll do about 25 miles today, without the trail ride.

Fort Ord - misery on a single-speed mountain bike

On Saturday morning, I drove about 30 miles south of Santa Cruz to explore the trails of a place I have heard a lot about, but never ridden - Ft. Ord.

Ft. Ord, an infantry training center for the first 80 years of the 20th century, is now de-activated for military training and is open to the public. The Bureau of Land Management has created a network of multi-use trails that are free to the public.

It took about 45 minutes to get to the trailhead. As I was driving south on Hwy 1, I was excited about the prospect of riding in a place that warned of mountain lions, rattlesnakes, and live explosives in public areas!

An excerpt from one of Ft. Ord's websites:

>Explosives at former Fort Ord

While every effort has and is being made to clear dangerous materials, 60 years of military occupation make it possible that live rounds and explosives may remain in public areas as well as posted areas.

DO NOT TOUCH unfamiliar objects, especially metal. Instead, MARK THE LOCATION and CALL THE FEDERAL POLICE at (831) 242-7851 or (831) 242-7924.

After a little exploring, I found the trailhead parking lot nestled between a residential community and some strawberry fields. I grabbed a trail map and plotted a course that would satisfy my two objectives - keep me on as much singletrack as possible AND get me close to the yellow "DO NOT ENTER" section (see map below - I had to cut the map in half to post it here...so imagine that the bottom half is attached to the left of the top half.) For reference, I started my ride at the intersection of G17 (Reservation Road) and Hwy 67.

Less than a mile into my ride, I noticed three ways that Ft. Ord vastly different than the riding do on my local trails.

First, the trails are heavily signed. I couldn't ride for more than a half mile without having to stop to consult the map to see which trail to connect with. In general, I appreciate this because it makes it makes the outdoors accessible to more people, but I found that I could never settle in enough to enjoy the riding. And yeah, I know that I had an agenda for this ride (get to the yellow zone!), so that had a lot to do with it, too.

Second, the terrain was much different. Most of the riding I do is under the canopy of redwoods where I am the smallest thing on the trail. I ride on well-packed, cool soil with rocks and roots to navigate. This day, I found myself the tallest thing on the trail - I was fully exposed to the sun as I rode next to low scrub brush and madrone trees. The trail was sand - loose and deep in many spots. The riding here, unlike at home, did not require strong technical skills - only an ability to muscle through deep sand.
In my head, I started playing a game to minimize the suffering of riding in sand. I pretended that there were unexploded land mines all around me and that I couldn't put my foot down in or I would get blown up. That game ended when I realized that I had to put my foot down in order to stop to check the map to see which connecting trail to take. Aaargh.

The third way that Ft. Ord is different than riding at home is that it was H-O-T. Great for training military troops maybe, but not so good for riding bikes. Less than two miles into the ride, I had salt streaks on my sunglasses and my hands were slipping from the grips. It did feel good to sweat, though, and riding here reminded me that as much physical exercise as I do, I just don't sweat enough. Those people reading this who don't live in Central California may be rolling their eyes right now.

All was fine until about mile six. Like an animal that gets distracted by a shiny trinket, I got distracted from my goal of getting to the yellow zone. What distracted me was a named trail - called Lookout Ridge. I figured the views would be great, so I headed in that direction. And that took everything out of me - a 7% climb for just over a mile on a single-speed in the blazing sun. But at least I was on hard-packed soil instead of loose sand. If you check out the profile, you can see the climb at mile six.

After the blood drained from my eyes, I ate two melted Snickers bars while crouching under a madrone tree. Turns out madrone trees don't provide much shade, so I scarfed and barfed in order to get back on the bike and start suffering, I mean riding, again.

I started climbing again to meet up with more singletrack and work my way towards that ever-elusive yellow zone, but quickly bonked. It was just too hot and I was running out of liquids, even though I had started with a 100 oz. Camelbak with water and two water bottles full of electrolyte fluid. Also, my paper map was disintegrating from being stored in my jersey pocket which was soaked with sweat. So I turned around and enjoyed the downhill to get back on the asphalt and head back to the parking area.

As I was driving home I realized that this is the second time in a row that I didn't perform well on my single-speed mountain bike. It reminded me that I haven't spent enough time on it recently. So I need to do more of that.

thank you, bee, for stinging me in the ear

I was riding down to Santa Cruz from Felton on Sunday afternoon.

At the end of the ride, there's a narrow and twisty one way road that dumps you out of the residential area near DeLaveaga into Santa Cruz.
This day was only the fourth time I'd been this way, and the first two times I rode it I didn't know this road was one-way. So I always went really slowly around the steep, blind curve.
But two rides ago, I realized that it is one way (my way) so since then I've beeen taking the middle of the lane. No worries.

So on Sunday, I'm coming down this same one-way street.
I'm in the middle of the road.
I'm going fast.
I'm stoked.
As I approached the blind curve, I intentionally kept my speed up and cut a closer turn, pushing myself to get better at cornering with full panniers. I made it around the corner with no problems.

As I straightened out and scrubbed some speed, about 30 seconds later, a Ford Explorer turned down the street and proceeded to drive up the one way street towards me. As he approached me, I gently waved at him and pointed to the three bright red and white signs that read "DO NOT ENTER."

I figured he would get it, stop, and turn around, so I kept pedalling. Curious, I looked back.
He did not stop. He kept driving up the hill, against the flow. When he got to the blind curve he...

What do you think he did?
That's right.
He kept going.

That scared me and angered me. Thirty seconds ago, I was flying down that hill, near 25 miles an hour. That would have been a disaster had we collided.

So I pedalled after him.
I didn't get far, though, before I saw him doing a seven-point turn on this narrow, tree-lined road to get going in the correct direction. There were four cars behind him (in front of him?). They weren't too happy, either, I reckon. But I bet none of them were as scared or angry as me.

I stayed on the shoulder of the road as he came back down the hill. When he approached me, I waved, forced a smile, and motioned for him to roll down his window.

Me: "Hey there...that's a one way street, you know."
Him: "Yeah, I know. That's why I turned around."
Me: "I'm on a bike and came down that hill around that bend about 30 seconds ago. If one of us had been about 30 seconds earlier, it would have been a mess."
Him: "Yeah, I know. That's why I turned around."

Baffling logic.
So I just said "OK, thanks, have a good day" and moved off the road. I gave him a full minute head start and then moved onto the road.

Interestingly, about three miles back, before I was flying down that hill, a bee flew into my ear and stung me. Bee stings in the ear hurt, it turns out. I had stopped riding just long enough to get the bee and stinger out of my ear. Turns out that took about 30 seconds.

So, thank you, bee, for stinging me in the ear.
Had you not stung me and slowed me down, I would have collided with that Ford Explorer.

options

It was nice to wake up early one morning last week and run through my options on ways to get to work.

First thought at 5am, when the alarm sounded: I'm gonna ride!
Second thought at 5:25, when I was still in bed: It's 5:25 and I'm still in bed. It sure is cozy in here. I 'm going to stay in bed and catch the 6:05 bus.
Third thought at 5:50, when I got on my bike: I'm not going to get to work as early as I wanted to, but at least I get to ride.

It was interesting when I was running through my options that driving didn't even come to mind.

tradeoffs

I've had a vehicle now for 32 days.

In this time, I've logged my two lowest weeks of mileage since starting tracking it on April 8 - but not because I've been supporting myself via truck instead of bicycle. In reviewing my Bike Log I can pinpoint a few reason:

• two days immediately following the purchase of the truck, I did not ride at all (playing with my new toy?)


• the following week, I was off the bike for four days - Adria and I went to Tahoe that week, and I was off-bike for three days beforehand, then rode hard in Tahoe for two days, then stayed off-bike for one day after returning


• the third week after the purchase, Adria and I went to Humboldt for an Aslanian family affair and I did not ride

So, I'm OK with how few miles I put in since buying a vehicle, and I don't connect it directly to having access to a vehicle. I think all other things being held constant, I still would have had a couple of low-mileage weeks even if I hadn't bought the truck.

And all that got me thinking about tradeoffs.

I can leave for work 20 minutes later in the mornings if I choose to drive. So, the benefit of driving is extra time. Chilling at home before leaving for work has always been valuable to me. My day is set up so much better when I don't rush out the door for work, but instead enjoy the solitude that morning presents, enjoy some good coffee while reading, make a nice breakfast, or practice yoga.

Then I thought about the cost of that tradeoff. There's the financial cost - $4 round-trip, plus wear-and-tear on the vehicle. There's the mental cost - waiting in lines of cars and not being in control of my world, and the stress that creates. There's the environmental cost - short trips put an inordinate amount of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. There's the emotional cost - the way I feel when I arrive at work after driving versus riding is the exact opposite of empowering (just knowing that I've ridden for 45 minutes before 7am...super-good feeling).

So, yeah, the benefit of driving to work isn't worth the cost. That being said, I also don't regret having bought the vehicle - it affords me many other benefits that are worth the cost. But I also don't regret leaving it sitting in the driveway more mornings than not as I roll down the street on two wheels.

In celebration of my revelation, I share with you some pictures from my commute to and from work today:

The sky that I got to stare into as I rode my bike:

The funnniest bumper stickers I've seen in a long time:A guy in a lab coat staring at the ocean as two girls walk by:

Actually, the guy isn't real. He's part of a mural on the Shopper's Corner wall: