February 21, 2011: I spent this weekend at a Swedish island called Koster – the westernmost point of the west coast, and a car-free haven with only about 350 inhabitants. You need half an hour on the ferry to get here, and once you arrive you have to travel on foot, by bike or one of the small moped trikes often used by the locals – with a front loading deck over the two front wheels.
Not surprisingly, I prefer the bike.
I have an old singlespeed standing at our place here, bought at a fleamarket for less than the cost of driving here and back – by car it’s one and a half hour each way from our home to the harbor on the mainland. This bike has to stay outdoors all year. This weekend we had 13 degrees celsius below zero – and the bike hadn’t been used for months.
It just worked, like always.
It took me down to my favorite beach before a late breakfast, rolling over frozen puddles and crisp snow – giving me the chance to enjoy a quiet moment before returning to the rest of the bunch.
Bikes like this deserve so much more love than they get.
February 10, 2011: There is a steep hill on my way home from work that I can hardly pedal while sitting down. It's granny gear-steep, and the first times I couldn't believe how I would ever be able to pedal all the way up. Now it's a benchmarking habit; I simply have to nail that hill. If I can't, something isn't right. Yesterday something wasn't right. Thankfully this wasn't about me.
Hard work, though.
February 9, 2011: This morning: One heavy snowfall, some steep hills on my way down to work - and 35mm narrow spike tires on my commuter bike... That's a pretty minimal set of contact patches when going downhill fast on snowy streets.
The ninja skill solution: Lowering myself down in front of the saddle, putting one foot down, like a sliding outrigger - allowing me to ride speedway-style around the bends with a surprising amount of control. This puts more weight on the front wheel for added grip, and more important: more smiles on my face.