Desert biking (or dessert biking, if you have ice cream afterwards)

I just got back from spending 10 days in the Phoenix area with my family.  Leaving Vancouver (my bike) behind and leaving DC (the city in which I live) behind are always a little difficult, especially this year, when after heaps of schoolwork, I finally had time to go riding and the city was looking especially nice for the holidays.

And yet family matters demanded a long trip to the Grand Canyon State, so off I went.  

I have long been highly, highly critical of Phoenix for being overly conservative and also run by people who are, frankly, bat-shit insane (*cough Joe Arpaio and Jan Brewer cough cough*), and this break was no different.  After the Newtown shootings, the attorney general of Arizona decided that one person in every school (preferably the principal) needs to have a gun because the state budget is just too stretched to stick a police officer in each school.  The logic behind this thinking entirely escapes me because, as someone who is vehemently pro gun control and also a human with basic moral principles, I don't believe that guns and kids mix well.  Guns don't belong in schools.  Period.  Anyone who argues differently is missing the point.

Anyway.  The point of this post was not to make soapbox speeches, yet here I am, making soapbox speeches. Believe it or not, the point of this post relates to bicycles.

Because I have been so dead-set on hating Phoenix for the last, oh, six years or so, I have drastically and mistakenly overlooked many of the bright points of the city.  Specifically--there are a LOT of cyclists there!  Maybe not in South Chandler, where my parents live, because it's pretty far away from anything, but that doesn't mean the city hasn't built the infrastructure for them.  In Chandler and well beyond, there are bicycle lanes everywhere, and when you hit the suburbs closer to Phoenix and, of course, Phoenix itself, there are LOTS of cyclists around!  I saw people whizzing by on intense-looking mountain bikes, I saw a man teetering to and fro as he carried a large sack of groceries home on his steel 1980s Schwinn, I saw a girl on her single-speed with a Chrome messenger bag pedaling along in cut-offs.  And honestly, why wouldn't you want to bike there?  It's completely flat, so a commute of 15 or 20 miles couldn't be so bad, and if you're into mountain biking, you're absolutely in the right spot for it.  I don't know if it would be possible to live car-free in the area, but it was heartening to see so many people out on two wheels.  So heartening, in fact, that it was torture, and I longed to have my bike with me.

To me, a love a biking means a love of the environment, and in the smog and humidity-filled Valley of the Sun, there is absolutely a need for more people to care about the unbelievable natural desert landscape in which they live (fly over the state sometime and you'll see what I mean).  So I tend to equate biking with liberalism, because biker-friendly areas tend to be more liberal.  Most cyclists I know are vehement liberals, but maybe that's just because I live in DC and don't get out much in the way of the political spectrum.  But anyway, my initial thought, for whatever reason, was that maybe this massive amount of biking means that the citizens of Phoenix are less crazy than the people that govern them.

I realize, though, that this doesn't matter (it would be nice, but it doesn't matter).  If you're on a bike, it doesn't matter who you are or which way you vote, it just means that you like to bike!  If more people are biking, the government, no matter which way they swing, will need to start responding to this growing population, and ultimately, that means a safer biking environment for everyone.  My dad used to tell stories of biking around the city when he was a kid, and I had naively and blindly figured that was a time long past.  But apparently I was very wrong.  So, citizens of Phoenix, I stand corrected, and I look forward to riding with you at some point in the future.

I will say, however, that whoever is put in charge of installing bike racks has some serious studying up to do.  I saw this at least three times:

We won't get into that right now.  Never mind that a 4-bike parking capacity has been reduced to one, MAYBE two if you can squeeze one between the rack and the building.  Baby steps.

My one question to Phoenicians and anyone else living in a deathly climate--what on earth do you do in the summer months?

Thought for the morning

I once knew someone who, as a PhD candidate, was rather disparaging of Master's students and claimed that they never do any work, that they glide right on through two years of graduate school with nary a difficult task or assignment.

As I sit here working on this grant proposal for the umpteenth hour with five more large assignments looming over the next two weeks, and not really due to procrastination on my part (seriously), all the while having gained a few pounds from stress over the past two weeks, I would like to throw out a giant "fuck you" to this person.

I really hope subsequent semesters suck less.

New racks along 14th Street!

....you're welcome.  Now stop locking your bikes to those poor trees, dagnabbit.

Keep on Truckin'

I've had my eye on either the Surly Long Haul Trucker or the Disc Trucker for awhile now.  Any thoughts on either of these models?  Disc brakes v. not?  Expense?  Components that I should invest in if I get one? 

How not to use a grinder...

In general, I seem to be getting the hang of this job.  I'm home from work and don't feel like I want to a) die or b) cry.

Today brought a whole host of exciting events.  This morning, I installed a rack outside of Revive Catering on Florida Ave NW, just before North Capitol Street.  As usual, I was hauling around a giant trailer of stuff, so I opted to take the back roads because Florida Avenue at morning rush hour = a hellish nightmare in the best of times.  Aside from being unable to bike any faster five miles per hour, it was actually a really nice ride.  The sun was out, there was a light breeze, the temperature was in the upper 60s--perfect weather, in other words. 

The beautiful weather was, of course, marred by the usual cat-calls and even a "Hey, sexy lady!" from a gentleman (ha) in the park across the street.  When I proceeded to ignore him, he amended his statement to, "Hey, sexy white girl!", in order to clarify--as if I was somehow confused.  It wasn't really worth saying anything or telling him off, so I went about my business and he eventually shut up.  As usual, I drew curious looks and offers of help from passersby.  I was especially amused by one man who greeted me, offered to help, then when I politely refused, kept a constant 15 feet or so away from me and just watched for the entire 20 minutes I was there. 

I think that traffic control box is defunct.

On my way back to the office, I put in another rack at the new Pleasant Pops shop because when I stopped by this weekend, the sidewalk was almost literally littered with bikes.  The owner, as always, was super nice, and I had to force myself to leave without buying a popsicle.  God, those things are good.

I spent about 15 minutes trying to line that last (closest) one up, and I'm still not convinced it's right.

The highlight of the day was confusing the DDOT staff at their outcrop office along 18th Street in Adams Morgan.  My contact at DDOT had asked me to install the last Adams Morgan rack, so, assuming he had let the 18th Street office know in advance (which was stupid of me), I marched in, picked up the rack, said, "I was told to install this," and I was about to walk out when the guy at the desk stopped me.  He asked me (a bit more brusquely than necessary, though I suppose the line of questioning was warranted), who I was, who I was with, and what I was planning on doing with the rack.  When he got to that last part, he said, "So, I assume you're not planning on installing that by yourself?  You've got crews outside or something?"  I just looked at him for an uncomfortable second and said, "Nope, it's just me."  He sputtered and said, "Well, I didn't mean to suggest you're not capable or anything," which, of course, was exactly what he was suggesting. 

Lesson learned: Don't assume anyone knows who I am!  

I took the rack, went on my merry way, and installed that sucker outside of....where else....Jumbo Slice.

EIGHT HOLES.  Completely unnecessary.  Also, those things are about twice the weight of a normal rack.
That is my darling sledgehammer.

After all of this fun, I went up to 11th Street, next to Meridian Pint, to investigate a resident complaint.  Apparently one of the bike racks had long been used as a hitching post for a motorcycle, and unsurprisingly, two of the bolts had come off.  Unfortunately, the only way that you can really take out a bike rack is by using a grinder, and, perhaps more unfortunately, I'm not great at using one. The one I have isn't very steady to begin with, and I never once bothered to read an instruction manual or anything.  By the way, if you don't know, a grinder looks like this.  I wouldn't have known until about, oh, a month ago.  

I managed to get the rack out of the ground, and because bike parking is TIGHT along that street, saw fit to move it outside the restaurant Maple....only to be informed halfway through that installation that the only available bike parking spot left on that block was home to outdoor seating for the restaurant which had taken the owner 3 months to acquire because, surprise surprise, the permit had to come from DDOT.  Oops.  Back to the grinder.

Somehow, in trying to remove the rack for the second time, I wore the grinder blade down to its very nub.  It went flinging off the grinder followed by a majestic stream of sparks, and I was left with a useless spinning thing, a partially installed rack, and one very panicked restaurant owner who was apparently on her way in (someone in the neighborhood had called her).  Fortunately, I found a spare blade hiding in my toolbag, and unfortunately, I put it on upside down, which I only realized after I tried to use it and it got very, very stuck and the grinder came, quite literally, to a screeching halt.  

Right at the point when I was about to start frantically kicking the bike rack to get the freaking thing out of the ground, a man walked out of Columbia Heights Coffee and said, "Hey, I noticed that you put your blade on backwards.  Do you want me to get my grinder and help you finish this job?"  

I always knew there was a god.

As it turns out, Paul (appropriately named, because I'm pretty sure he was a saint) was working on construction at The Coupe across the street and, true to his word, he brought out his grinder and helped me get the rack all the way off.  He also helped me bang the studs into the ground, tried to fix my grinder, and even better, didn't judge me for being a complete and utter idiot.

If your blade looks like the one on the left, you've done something wrong.

So that was today.  Some very, very nice man at Glover Park hardware got the grinder blade off for me and sold me a new one, and Maple still has its outdoor seating, so no harm, no foul.  I'm actually really glad that someone stopped me mid-installation because as much of a pain in the ass as it is to get halfway-installed bike racks out of the ground, it's about 50 times more of a pain to get fully installed racks out.  Plus, I wouldn't want to upset any restaurant owners.  I'm trying to do a nice thing for the community, and pissing people off doesn't really fall in that category.

Lessons learned: Always double-check before placing racks, and learn how to use properly power tools before you get all gung-ho with them.  And, when all else fails, pray for a nice man to walk out of a coffee shop and save your ass.

Confessions of a Bike Rack Installer

This post is not coming from a place of complaint or unhappiness, but as a response to the constant stream of questions I'm getting about what it is I do, because it generates a lot of confusion.  Basically, I install bike parking racks around the city.  Easy enough, right?  Not so much.  It's actually pretty challenging, and here's why:

1) Each installation, whether it's one or five "hoops," as those inverted U shaped things are referred to, requires me to visit a site, take some pictures, take some measurements, determine how to fit a bike rack in to conform with DC codes (which, believe it or not, exist, although no one but me cares about them).  Then, I go back to the office, put together a proposal, send it to the requester, wait for confirmation from whatever landlords or powers-that-be exist, and find time in my calendar to return to the site with a generator, a socket wrench set, a hammer drill, the racks, a grinder, a sledgehammer, and other sundry tools.  If the ground is made of anything other than cement, there are different tools, and if the ground is brick, I get to work with DDOT crews who have to drill out the hole with a rock hammer.  At present, I have a backlog of over 50 places that want at least one bike rack.  Many of them want or need more.  There is one of me.  One of me, 50+ of them.  The District Department of Transportation, lovely folks that they are, only allots funds for me to work 32 hours a week. 

2) Very few people out there know what the non-profit organization I work for is.  When they ask me who I work for, I tell them. Usually, they respond with, "There's a whole organization that supports bikes?  What do they do???" Which is pretty exciting, because I get to tell them all about all of those wonderful things.  Unfortunately, the curious passersby are usually asking me this when I'm lugging around hundreds of pounds worth of stuff, in a set up kind of like this:

Or when I'm in the process of trying to drill some holes in the ground with a hammer drill OR when I'm trying to bang things into those holes with a sledgehammer.  If I tell them I work for DDOT, they generally say, "Oh," and walk away.  So sometimes I do that.

3) When people ask what I do my response inevitably produces a raised eyebrow, a visual up-down of my rather small frame, or both.  PARTICULARLY from men.  Whether or not they mean to be, this is incredibly insulting, and incredibly frustrating, especially when it happens on the job.  Just the other day, I was trying to install some racks outside of USDOT while the building supervisor (a male in a suit) stood by to make sure security didn't pitch a fit over this strange girl with her power tools.  I heard the following comments from two of his colleagues:

• "It's a man's world when the woman's doing all the construction and the man gets to stand there and watch her while wearing a suit."
• "They sure are putting your pretty little arms to work, aren't they?"

In response, I said nothing to the first, and threw out, "Well, I don't know that I'd use the adjective 'pretty'", to the second, which wasn't terribly clever or biting, but it shut him up.  I messed up the installation, due in no small part to the fact that I was getting angry and also very nervous under the judgmental eyes of several men standing around watching me and making comments.  Which made me feel stupid, because I really DO know what I'm doing. Anyway, it ruined my entire day and it's making me mad just thinking about it now.

4) Unfortunately, the learning curve for this job is fairly steep and largely based in trial and error.  My predecessor did a great job of training me, but of the several installations I've done so far, a few have been unavoidable screw-ups.  Sometimes this is due to nervousness, as in my last example, but sometimes it's because the ground isn't quite steady, or the pavement cracks from the drill bit, or there's actually sand where there's supposed to be concrete, or the fasteners that I have are the wrong kind and won't secure the rack in the ground....there's a rather large spectrum of things that can go wrong that I have very little control over.  Because I am something of a perfectionist, I don't like this.  At all.  It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, and because I'm only a couple of weeks in, it's going to take awhile to get past that.

5) The work is straight-up draining.  There's the mental strain of trying to organize installations, and then there's the physical strain of actually doing them.  I repeat: I am a perfectionist, so trying to juggle this and being a full-time student (remember, I can only work 32 hours a week!) is, well, taxing.  

At the end of the day, I 100% love what I do.  When things go right, I have the ability to make people really, really happy.  Just yesterday, I visited an elementary school waaaaaaay out in Southeast, and the woman I was working with kept excitedly introducing me to people, saying, "This is Rachel.  She works with Department of Transportation, and she's going to give us some bike racks!!"  Each rack I install is one tiny bit closer to making DC a more bike-friendly city, and there's nothing like walking by a place of business and seeing a bike chained to something that YOU installed.  I also enjoy knocking down a few gender norms and stereotypes along the way, although that's a part of it I wish I didn't have to deal with sometimes.  Frankly though, it's all worth it!

Bleh!

3 sad days without a bike ride....my body decided to come down with some sort of mysterious illness that has left me sore and unable to ride a bicycle for any distance, particularly anywhere that involves hills...

The upside of this is that I've gotten to enjoy the fun that is the D1 (hey, that rhymed!), which picks me up from my front door and drops me off at work--and vice versa.  Occasionally, on normal, non-sick days, I have to forget this bus route exists because it could potentially make me very, very lazy.

After spending last night lying awake with a fever, however, I was forced to forego work at all today, and, to my dismay, it was GORGEOUS outside (as I discovered when I staggered out the door to catch the bus to go to the doctor's).  It's much easier to be sick when the weather sucks.  But the only thing I wanted to do was grab my bike and go spinning around in circles for hours.  Alas, it was not to be....

Keeping my fingers crossed that this bullshit clears up by Friday--between coffee club and Bike Prom, I feel I don't have much of a choice but to be up and about...