One for the Road: Cycling Misadventures

Balance for me is only achieved properly through the use of two feet on solid ground. So, needless to say, I’m jealous of all you folks confident enough to ride bikes for pleasure, and those who race competitively too. It’s definitely a smart, ecological and healthy way to travel, but it’s just not my thing.

However, this won’t stop me from telling you about a neat new anthology of cycling stories! A perfect gift for your bike lovin’ pals, Cycling’s Greatest Misadventures is a collection of twenty-seven true stories. Written by a variety of cyclers from everyday riders to expert pros, these tales tell of freak accidents, animal attacks, eerie incidents and an assortment of jaw-dropping bike calamities. Stories are organized around certain themes, like Race Day, Training, Turns for the Worse and Animal Encounters. There’s even a few stories devoted to cycling tales from places like Laos, Idaho and India.

Maybe some of these stories could convince me to face my two-wheel fears?! Possibly, but then one look at the Bike Crash Photo Gallery in the middle of the book, and I’m reassured that walking is indeed more my speed.

There are some events related to this new release coming up soon, including one on July 16th at Distant Lands in Pasadena, CA.

A Canadian in Beijing: Righteous Bikes

The thing about bicycles in Beijing is that they’re fearless, they’re everywhere, they’re irreverent and they’re their own characters. I know that it’s people who ride these bikes, but there seems to be a network of bikes themselves, like a secret society of Beijing bikes that meet at “koumen” (intersections) at all hours of the day to discuss how to better rule the roads. You can almost see them greeting each other in passing.

They’re as alive as this city.

I could write about cycling in Beijing for days. I’m sure this will be one of many posts on the subject. I’ve been observing the clambering chaos between pedestrians, bicycles and cars and after one week I have come to the following conclusion: bikes are in still in front.

They win the power struggle every time because they have the right to both abide by traffic laws and reject them. They seem to have no regulation whatsoever. All in all, the bikes of Beijing are anarchists.

Righteous.A Beijing bike can be seen in the bike lane (and there are a few, though cars and pedestrians often use these lanes too) or in the thick of the streets with the cars and trucks — even turning left in front of oncoming traffic. They hop up on sidewalks when it suits them and ride backwards against traffic when they don’t feel like crossing at the light. All in all, the bicycles are ever-present pedaling powerhouses.

And some are rickety and some are slick. Some are small and can be folded up (I love those!) and some are huge with giant trailers attached for large loads. In fact, these are the ones that I keep photographing because they’re so different from the bikes I know at home. I love how they can be loaded up with giant piles of unrecognizable stuff and still be upright and rolling confidently. Most of these big ones have three wheels, which helps with said confidence.

Now, the only ones I’ve ever seen that look like these are the ones that are quietly used by seniors at my Grandmother’s retirement village in Florida! Obviously they’re related to these bikes, but they haven’t really experienced the urban thrill of takeover. We need to free those Florida counterparts into the cityscape of the future!!

Yesterday I went downtown to search out some music equipment and to explore yet another downtown Beijing area. I was walking along East Gulouda when a bike passed me that was carrying two (yes two!) large leather easy chairs on its wide back. They were piled high and together like two L-shaped pieces of a Tetris game expertly placed. They were strapped together and to the bike itself. Nothing was teetering.

It was breathtaking.

I would even venture to say that it was beautiful; a beautiful example of invention, maneuvering and physics. Not for the faint at heart and truly for the cycling faithful. I grabbed my camera and tried to snap a shot but it was moving too fast. I missed it, but here is an image of another similarly laden bicycle. Differently stacked but equally awesome.

Bicycles are the main work vehicles here. Street cleaning happens from a bicycle and so, too, does street vending and small-scale commercial shipping.

Street cleaners have tools hanging from their bikes like brooms and shovels (pictured). They collect waste in the bike’s container as they move along. Most vendors selling food or other material do so from the back of a bike, and usually with a Aussie “Ute” style flat bed back to enable optimal viewing of merchandise.

Finally, bikes are also used as shipping vehicles. Here’s an image on one carrying several flats of “pijiu” or bottles of beer. This is one step up from the urban couriers of Toronto who mostly just carry small packages and written material.

I’m impressed.

All of these work bikes are the big ones too. These big-load bikes here seem like the ring leaders of the anarchist bike league. They’re the chiefs, the captains, the head honchos, the bigwigs, er. . . wheels. They lumber into intersections and are all the more fearless as a result of their size. The other bikes part and then fill in the wake of their passing like small fish do for whales.

Besides the hierarchy of might and manner, I have to mention the bikes at rest. They are everywhere, especially outside of the subway stops. Locks are also not very common. Those that are locked are only locked to themselves (and generally not to any permanent fixture) and they are mostly the newer bikes. The older ones are left to fend for themselves.

All in all, it’s a lonely pile of metal half standing, half lying on large sections of sidewalk in such a density that it’s difficult to distinguish one from the other. How do people locate their bikes after work? Your guess is as good as mine. In fact, I have an Australian friend here who said that she thought her bike was stolen until she found it three weeks later outside of the subway stop. I laughed out loud when I heard that because I can so imagine it.

This is an image of the bikes outside of my building. Just seeing this gathering of wheels makes me feel left out. I need a bike! I already looked into the prices and brand new ones are only about $80-$100 Canadian. Of course, there’s no reason for me to get a brand new bike, so I’ll be seeking an old one for a few kuai. Rust and squeaks are fine with me! I won’t be going quickly here – I’ll be too busy taking it all in as I join the pace of these living, breathing streets.

I can’t wait. I’m being beckoned by the bikes of Beijing. It’s a street-style revolution and I’m hopping on for the ride.

If you’re considering bringing your own bike to this city from afar, don’t bother. Bike theft, especially of foreign bikes, is apparently a huge problem here. Check out the link below for more information.

Fresh Fruits and the Nude Beach of Sauvie Island, Oregon

Portland, Oregon, is home to some wonderful sights and is a terrific, vibrant town nestled in some of the best scenery in the country. But, however picturesque the city is, you might still need to “get away from it all.” One of the best places to go is a small alluvial island near the convergence of the Columbia and Willamette (pronounced will-A-mit, sounds like “dammit”) rivers, called Sauvie Island.

It’s actually minutes from the center of town, but it’s worlds away. Here, the lovable hippie-grunginess of the Pacific Northwest meets the quaintness of Tuscany and the vistas of Switzerland. You can find ‘u-pick’ farms growing vegetables and flowers, along with dairy cows, horses, and a big wildlife preserve. There are camping locations, nature trails and beaches.

Right now is the time to head there to grab your late-summer-harvest fresh foods. Make sure to try the different berries indigenous to this region, such as the marionberry, which even grow wild on the roadsides. If you are not afraid of starches, test your orientation skills in the Corn Maize, an annual maze cut through a farmer’s field. A tip for runners or cyclists: the paved portion of the island is a scenic 12-mile loop of good, flat pavement.

The best time to go is early morning, when the quiet little rural island is still waking up. Clear days offer gorgeous views of both Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Hood and very little traffic. It’s common legend that it has Portland’s only nude beach; but this, I can neither confirm or deny. I can confirm, however, as a former resident, that the legendary Pacific Northwest “Pillsbury-doughboy tan” can be spotted here, in the wild.