Browns Creek Bicycle Trail

The last time I caught a trout in Browns Creek was in 2006. I fished a size 16 Pheasant Tail Bead Head into a pool for an hour, and eventually caught what Simpson's folklorists would know as General Sherman, the massive catfish Homer caught in season two while on a couple's retreat with Marge.

The lone brown trout was probably just as surprised as I was to be caught, and I released it. The railroad tracks at that time were remnants of the logging industry that built Stillwater, as is most of the town's architecture and buildings - as recently as 2003 the original buildings that once housed logging mills were still standing, in fact I believe there are still a number of them there now.

After years of contentious land speculating, a group purchased the property, tore out the wooden rail ties and the steel rail lines and voila, a perfectly smooth, gradually descending, (or ascending) bicycle and pedestrian trail was born.

Of the handful of times I have ridden on the Browns Creek Trail, I have found people to be very courteous and respectful of cyclists, and I try as a cyclist to reciprocate that convention with "on your left" or simply slowing whenever an altercation seems imminent.

Here is a Strava route, running from Saint Paul to downtown Stillwater, nearly fifty miles of exclusive bicycle trail, including the newly completed Browns Creek Trail.

Half Century

This being the first week since the spring Equinox that hasn't had an unprecedented snowfall, and the Specialized Allez, with a new double crank was staring at me, taunting, almost daring me to get out and ride, I spent yesterday on a three hour tour around Lake Minnetonka, via the Geenway and the Luce Line.  The ride was great - no technicals, no flats, other riders getting out and knocking off the last of winter's grip were in good spirits and a light wind from the SouthEast emboldened me at the start and humbled me at the finish.  Like a good drink.

                    Create Maps or search from 80 million at MapMyRide
               

Since re-configuring the Allez, I've been riding it around town as I still don't own a car, and riding safely is less expensive and less restricting than buying bus passes.  That being said, I spent some time on tuesday at a sewing studio in Minneapolis patching a pair of jeans.  A friend has been bartering her skills and artistry, (trading pottery and bread for her time), in order to keep me from appearing too raggorous.  Raggedy.  Comprised of rags.  I guess the term is "Distressed".
Here are a couple of photos of that project, including the distressed jeans, before and after being patched, again.

Photo by Michael McKinney, at Sewtropolis

Photo by Michael McKinney, at Sewtropolis

Photo by Michael McKinney, Hamline Avenue bridge

Photo by Michael McKinney, Como Lake

Photo by Michael McKinney

Nice Ride 145

This past week-end, I joined a friend for a tour of the Minneapolis and St. Paul area, performed entirely on Nice Ride bicycles, traveling from one rental station to the next.  The total mileage of the planned route, starting in Northern Minneapolis and ending in West St. Paul, was a little over eighty miles.  Including the mileage for me to bicycle to the start, I may have been close to a century on the day.  I have already posted a lot about it on Twitter, Facebook and Flickr, so I'll avoid any more sensationalism and just add this, a short note I made to myself after completing the day -

- low point

I got turned around on Washington avenue and tried crossing, but got stuck between the median island and a quarter ton red Chevy pick-up truck...

I was going into traffic. 
The truck passed on my left.

I pulled the bike against the median, put one foot on the curb and watched the group, now a block ahead of me, change their bicycles and disappear around a corner.  Getting stranded or lost in downtown Minneapolis was not the plan.  Neither was slaloming traffic.  

- high point

At the Wilder Foundation, my bike got locked into the kiosk before realizing the station was not allowing rentals.  Close enough to home to call it quits and walk away, far enough in to a hundred miles on a three speed 50 pound commuter bike to feel thwarted.  With some deliberation, I ran a brisk mile and a half to the next station, got another bike and kept going.  

Penn and Lowry Nice Ride station, 6-30-2012.  Photo by Michael McKinney.

Near 501 Franklin, Minneapolis.  6-30-2012. 

At the Walker Art Center, crossing Lyndale.  6-30-2012.  Photo by Michael McKinney.

One of many downtown Nice Ride stations.  6-30-2012.  Photo by Michael McKinney.

Joe, Ed and Nathan on Fairview after stop #108.  6-30-2012.  Photo by Michael McKinney.

Footnote - it has been a long, long, long time since I have slept so very, very well.

That pretty much sums it up for me. 

Pedaling Revolution Review

Pedaling Revolution: How Cyclists Are Changing American Cities by Jeff Mapes

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


The narrative of one writer gathering information about his experience with bicycles, in comparison to that of others, including movements in New York, California and Portland, Oregon.  To this point, I've enjoyed the sparse, almost analytical nature of his writing - while describing certain characters, he doesn't give in to extemporaneous segues or belittle others by not, and clearly defines a number of key individuals whose efforts as bicycle advocates have altered the landscape of urban transportation.  Although every paragraph is loaded with information and possibly in need of more citation, Mapes is adequately informing the reader that a cyclist is in the minority of the United States citizens using roads.  Choosing to join that minority is done so at your own risk, risk of either bodily harm or general ignorance of the many unwritten codes of conduct shared by cyclists.  



View all my reviews

Do It Yourself, part one.

My twelve speed Schwinn has been holding up well for this go round of 30 days of biking, though the past two days have seen some inclement conditions - Saturday night I got caught in a rainstorm and the chain stretched, a bit, or got extra clean from all of the rain water.  The result was today's painful and nearly sadistic bike ride.  After getting under way, about fifteen miles on the roundabout to the library, I shifted my chain between my rear cassette and my spokes.  (ONE).  This occurred, (TWO), numerous, (THREE) times before, (FOUR), making it to the library, (FIVE).  (SIX).  The first three or four times, as the rear wheel came out of alignment and connected with the frame of the bicycle, I was stopped short and removed myself from the bicycle in order to de-spoke the chain and re-align the wheel.  By the sixth occurrence, a little less than a block from my destination, I got all Walter Langowski, Bruce Banner, Dr. Jekyll and went into a 2001 Space Odyssey, "This is my club, hear me roar!" routine. What seemed at the time a display of strength and mechanical mastery was more akin to George Costanza as Koko, the talking chimp.  Highly ineffectual.

Bless those librarians though. 
I walked into my local branch, literally dripping blood from the gouges on my fingers, (did I mention the chain, rear cassette and front cranks actually tore skin off my fingers as I sought to separate the chain from the spokes and cassette), and proceeded to clean my hands, apply band aids from a first aid kit, and soap away what grit had gotten into the cuts.  I even stayed for the free wi-fi before quietly exiting, hoping I hadn't elicited a disaster preparedness drill.  I am eternally grateful.
I snapped a quick photo of downtown St. Paul, (for some reason this corner, with the buildings, reminds me of a Georgia O' Keefe painting, from the New York series), stopped for lunch and hoped the worst of it was behind me.  Wrong. 
(Seven). 
(Eight).
Mercifully, the rear derailleur snapped in half, and the day was over.  Well, half over.  A good Samaritan rolled past and asked if I needed help.  I replied yes, introduced myself and proceeded to relate my tale of woe.  Oscar, as he introduced himself, quickly helped me transform my twelve speed into a single speed, which allowed me to motivate to the nearest DIY.  Not incidentally, the rear wheel decided to re-align itself every time I started from a stand still, thus finding myself on the side of the road, again re-aligning the rear wheel as traffic honked and gawkers gawked - I understand this is why single speeders prefer not having a quick release.  Two hours later at the DIY, some gauze and bandages and I'm all set for tomorrow.  Big thanks to The Hub. 

Downtown Saint Paul, 4-23-2012.  Photo by Michael McKinney.

New Cassette, Chain, Rear Derailleur.  Photo and work by Michael McKinney.

Some really sharp, dirty objects.  Photo by Michael McKinney.

Favorite bike ride, 2011

I didn't post anything about this on or near the day that it happened, so I think, in retrospect, it would be good of me to post a short blog entry about the 2011 Red Ride. Tom Lais, a cyclist I met while riding on Lexington Avenue, who is somehow related to my friend's sister's cousin's uncle, suggested I join his century ride to Saint John's University in 2011. The previous year, the ride left at 8:00 AM from the Minneapolis Basilica, and eventually made it to Saint John's, after riding through tornadic wind conditions, hail, lightning and some pretty substantial rainfall. I, true to form, slept in that morning and missed the ride, though the storm hit the area I was residing in at the time - the downed trees, knocked out power lines and damaged houses told me I had made the right decision.
After some preliminary planning with Tom and a few of the other riders of the 2010 Red Ride in January of 2011, and occasionally seeing Tom on his bicycle throughout a very snowy and prolonged winter, I awoke on the morning of June 25th, got my lycra and cleats together and rode over to Minneapolis, catching the group as riders were leaving the Minneapolis Bascilica for the 100 mile ride to Saint John's University.
The group started as nearly twenty riders, and throughout the course of the day, varied from a dozen to again, nearly twenty riders. A section of road was under construction, a crash occurred, there was a flat tire immediately, a strong tailwind at one point had the peloton, (group) traveling at a very casual twenty seven miles an hour, somebody went the whole way without a helmet and somebody from a state school showed up and tried to make all of the small private liberal arts school alumni feel like overly educated pansies, (he had lots of tattoos and smoked and drank a Leblatt's on the saddle of his custom titanium frame cross bike), I'm pretty sure there was a 1959 Chevrolet Bel Air Sedan he and his friends were in the process of chasing down.
Having ridden group rides before, but not from the perspective of being an accomplished and confident rider myself, or specifically on a road bike, I felt strong all day and finished the century well. I made some new friends during the course of the day, and found out later Tom would ride a double century on his 70th birthday...maybe it was his 72nd. He also rode the Arrowhead 135, on a Salsa custom Mukluk. I think my favorite memory of the day, in all, was seeing the Saint John's campus again, and laughing at the memory of hauling my Raleigh Technium Obsession onto campus, in 1993, hanging it upside down in my dorm room and riding it less than a hundred yards a day to the science building, for a couple of weeks...with my Biology and Chemistry books in paniers.
Also notable and ultimately more significant than my personal memories of that day, are the Benedectine Values that surrounded the ride and the day itself. They are,

Awareness of God
Moderation
Hospitality
Dignity of Work
Community Living
Listening
Taking Counsel
Common Good
Truthful Living
Stewardship
Respect for Persons
Justice

Thank you again to Tom and the Saint John's Alumni Association.

An inevitable post about bicycle logistics

So, if I haven't blogged about this, up until this point, I apologize. Facebook has monopolized about 85% of my online habits, and taken that rare naivety I possessed which may have been charming in small doses, but at 85%, gets a little nauseous.
This Centurion bike frame, the tan bike seen in seven of these nine photos, is a late model Centurion Le Mans, with a lugged frame and original components. I rode it from Mid-December 2010 until last week, mid-August 2011. for the Marvel and DC crowd, and for the sake of preserving naivety as generic innocence and not malignant ignorance, I'll offer a quick creation narrative: I'll admit I saw the frame, and stripped its parts about 6 years ago, thinking I could make it into a single speed, "Horizental Drop-Outs". However, that never happened, and I was left to pursue other courses of action.
the bike was re-assembled in Mid-December of last year to use as a getting around town, commuter bike that could also be willingly sacrificed if one were to be chased by wolves. As one of the the baddest snow seasons in history descended on the Metropolitan Twin Cities area, large roving gangs of wolves were rumored to have made the journey from the Northwoods to feast on slow cyclists caught in the mountains of snowbanks lining the sidewalks.
The original parts included Suntour Barcons, which held throughout the eight months of riding, despite having never been cleaned or adjusted. Parts replaced on the bike started with the wheels, then on to the rear derailleur, the headset, brake cables, chain, (x3), tires, new lights, handlebars, crank and on the barcons themselves, a lost washer and spring.
After being told the frame itself was a salvage, and rendered unusable by damage done in a previous accident, I was told by a mechanic that riding the frame was a bad idea. Such a bad idea that he would not work on the frame, in lieu of feeling responsible for my imminent destruction, I assume.
I proceeded to make my face recognizable, albeit more recognizable, at a variety of local bike shops who specialize in used parts, used frames, experienced mechanics and knowledgeable service. I had been down this road, last year, at the same time, and would have liked to avoid following my own footsteps, (although, as the unfortunate sand people can attest, storm troopers are really good at hiding their numbers by doing just that), but found myself again navigating the waters of the used steel frame marketplace.

*Editors note- last year I went to a bike shop with specifically used, re-built and re-cycled bicycles, looking for a bike that could last through the winter and maybe perform as well as the SlushPuppy did. I put money down on a frame, wheels, components and had a completed, vintage, Specialized Allez, steel frame, build-up, singlespeed. However, the tight geometry of the cockpit, the small size of the frame and the inflated tires rubbing on the frame itself determined that the bike was not for me. I went through the ringer with the shop owners and a couple of said shop's employees to get my money back, ("NO BIKE RETURNS" was printed in block letters on their sign, somehow, I managed to swim upstream on that one), because, frankly, I couldn't afford to have a bicycle that wouldn't work for specifically what I had paid for. The completed project failed that standard. Back to present day.

I found the replacement frame quickly enough, and was indecisive as to the next course of action- re-build from my own components and the new frame, or leave it in the hands of somebody who knows what's what? I went with the latter and found time to write this amazing blog post. Pictures are all property of me. Enjoy.
As I sit writing this entry, the bicycle is a work in progress, in a local shop, nearing completion. The new, (used) frame is a Schwinn, steel lugged, the right size, with clearance in the frame for knobby winter tires, is a deep blue color, has the right geometry and lacks only a few hours with a good mechanic.

Bicycle shops vaguely connected with this blog entry:

Art Doyles Spoke and Pedal
Express Bike Shop
The Hub
One on One
Re-Cycle
Sibley Bike Depot
Freewheel
Sunrise Cyclery
Now Sports
Boehm's Skate and Cycle

Big thanks to all who helped make it possible.