Fixed...on cycling

Lately it seems that my life has consisted of work, relationship, eating, sleeping, and cycling. While I don't ride as much as I have in past phases of life, like when I lived in Santa Cruz, putting time in on the saddle is something that I can't live without. It provides me the opportunity to just be. The rhythm and whirring of the cranks and the delirious moments of exertion are more than just addictive, its a meditation. Spending 3,4, or even 6 hours on solo rides gives me quite a bit of time think and explore - both parts of myself and the environments that lie within pedaling range of the Oakland hills, where I live.

Jory often comments that my cycling habits are borderline insanity. I'm not sure if it's the quiver of pedal-powered works of art that I've managed to collect, or the deep bins of spare parts and gear that give her this impression. It might also be that I'm somewhat notorious for bringing friends and loved ones on rides that often involve lush trails overgrown with poison oak, hills so steep they make you cry, wicked downhills long enough to make your body ache, and times of being uncertain of relative location (aka "lost"). There are also long, exhilarating stages of fun and fulfillment.

Part of that fun is the gear: The flashes of CNC machined aluminum; the weave of carbon fiber; tires for every surface; and the bling of hand built wheels. I seem to go through periods of having an affinity toward a particular bike and ride it more often. Sometimes this is inspired by weather patterns or trail conditions, or even air quality. This can also be the result of the other bikes being out of commission, either with a flat tire, or deep into the stages of re-incarnation. One would think that having multiple bikes means that you always have one ready to go, but those who share my love for accumulating bikes will share my maintenance conundrum: the more bikes you own, the more chain cleaning, tire changing, lubing, and pedal swapping you have to do.

Of late I've been doing most of my rides on either my single speed mountain bike, a late 90's Ventanta El Toro, or my road track bike, a modified Specialized Langster (as apposed to my velodrome track bike). There's just something about the simplicity of the single or fixed gear. There's no hassling with gears to slip into that perfect cadence and power over the next rise. If there's a hill you strategize and suffer over it. And on the fixed gear you never get to stop pedaling...unless you stop to pee or stretch. This does make downhills a bit tricky. Especially those that follow an all-out effort that makes your blood pound through your temples; You want nothing more than to to sit down and give your screaming legs a break. However, the momentum you've stored up has other things in mind for your burning muscles.

Yes, I guess it is a bit insane now that I put it that way...

Comments

[Joy]

I've always been amazed at your bike riding regimen Jess. Of course this is coming from someone who hasn't been on a bike in...I can't remember. I think it's wonderful, and you're a living example of its benefits....you're in GREAT shape. I still remember one of the times (maybe the only time) that Jory went with you on one of your bike expeditions...I don't think she knew what hit her....but she did live to tell me about it....every aching detail.

[Elizabeth Michel]

So what did you think your mother would say about your cycling obsession? That's right: "Be careful out there!"

I'm enjoying your posts very much, Jesse, and I'm learning from them. They make me think. For example, after reading this one I thought, "Well, I thought he had more bikes than a Manhattan messenger service, but who am I to criticize? He could just as easily say, "In my mother's mansion are many looms." Though I might add that only two of my looms are intricately geared (ten foot treadles each) and big enough to "ride." The others are small, simple, and cheap, yet, like your single speed bike, they can be more challenging, and ultimately more rewarding, to take down a wooly weaving path.

I understand your biking obsession better now. But I'm your mother so I still say: "Be careful out there!"

Love,

Mom

[Phil E Stein]

Gee whiz, is that a picture of a custom made, Paul Sadoff, Rock Lobster, single speed, track bike?

[Commercial Roofing]

I never learned how to ride a bike...
Im disappointed...

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