Tally (Ida) Ho!

Talking recently with my faithful cycling partner Roy, we bandied around the idea of heading back to Idaho to ride the Rails to Trails there this summer.  Last year we had the novel experience of riding on a paved trail and while it wasn't a piece of cake (or pie!), we enjoyed the many conveniences that this trail provides.

During our first day of cycling, many people told us about an old saloon called the "Snake Pit" which was featured in the 1997 movie "Dante's Peak" starring Pierce Brosnan and Linda Hamilton.  Nearing the rustic establishment late in the afternoon, we scoffed at the kitschy antlers hanging from its weathered exterior, the bleached animal skulls adorning its façade and the twisted branches that acted as a backwoods privacy screen.

The "Famous" Snake Pit

The inside was no better - with dollar bills plastered on every surface and miners helmets, hardhats and baseball caps nailed to the varnished log support beams.  Both Roy and I had seen this type of décor in numerous places we had cycled through but our blasé attitude didn't stop us from ordering ice cold beers and home made burgers.  I didn't ask for any pie but as I sauntered over to a display of Tee- shirts, I could hear my friend asking our server what kind of weird combination of ice cream and pie would this famous place serve?

I chose a grey Tee emblazoned with the Snake Pit logo and paid for it as we left the establishment. 
We were intent on finding a campsite as the sun was getting low on the horizon so we headed in a  south - easterly direction where we settled for a bald RV park near the Interstate.  It was while I was woken up for the umpteenth time by traffic on the Interstate that I realized that I had left my Snake Pit Tee-shirt on the counter of the bar while we made a hasty and booze - filled exit back onto the trail in order to find a camping spot before dark.

In the morning it was easy to tell Roy that we should continue and worry about the T-shirt later.  At our next stop we lingered in a handy bike shop built right on the trail in Kellogg, Idaho and watching the professional mechanic tune up my bike, the forgotten shirt became a distant memory.




Drive through coffee shop near Kellogg, Idaho
 

It wasn't until we had ridden the whole tour that I was seized by an unnatural desire to have the Tee-shirt I had purchased in my possession.  I managed to convince Roy that a quick trip down the Interstate would have us in Kellogg in no time at all and we could march into the Snake Pit and be gone in a flash.  If the place was open.  Which it was not on this Thursday evening at 9 o'clock.

On our second attempt, with Roy muttering obscenities the whole way and me trying to placate him by having bought gas at the nearby Chevron in Kingston, Idaho, we were successful.  Trisha, the server working this Friday night at the "Pit" remembered the two urban looking cyclists who had swaggered into the bar wearing their bright, graphic cycling jerseys and their Spandex shorts and who in a moment of light American beer haze had forgotten something they had actually paid for (unlike most of their patrons).

Tee from a few days later

My friend Roy has since forgiven me and I occasionally wear what he describes as"The world's most expensive Tee-shirt" and I wonder now at my stubbornness at claiming something that really has less meaning to me than the Tee-shirt I bought a few days later during our bike ride and I was able to blog about in the past.







Gettin' Slammed

It was inevitable with the fine weather that things would get very busy at BikeWorks South.  After spending the winter weekends puttering around the shop in a relaxed manner, I knew it would only be a matter of time before things got crazy at our community bike shop.

Opening the gate at ten to one, there was already a couple of people lined up waiting to come in and when we entered the shop, it looked like a bomb had gone off inside.  Frayed shifter and brake cables were lying on the floor, miscellaneous parts were strewn across the workbenches and bikes in various stages of repair were scattered about the premises.  This was a sure indication that the proceeding day (Saturday) had been very busy and that a lot of people who couldn't get in would be here today.

Not quite this bad

The two of us who were there to open the shop as mechanics spent a moment congratulating ourselves for having won awards at the volunteer appreciation party held just last week.  My associate was presented an award for being the most improved mechanic and as a jest I received an award for having put the wrong sign out in the alley the most times. (It does tend to keep the crowds down).

Within an hour, all of the twelve repair stands were taken, two different families with young children were  repairing miniature bikes on the floor of the shop with the young children having a whale of a time running around the shop and fooling with the compressed air hose, ringing bike bells seeing just how far an inner tube could be stretched.


Good times

For some reason the shop had a high number of patrons whose bikes needed a major overhaul.  Repairs that would take longer than the four hours the shop would be open.  In reality we should have told one guy that his bike would be better off in our scrap pile since there wasn't a part that didn't need attention.  Instead, we took turns fixing the missing spokes from his rear wheel or installing brake cables or trying to true his wheels.  By the end of the shift, everyone in the shop had had a crack at helping the helpless guy.  One of the mechanics told him that after four hours of repairs his bike was not rideable and yet I'm sure I saw him mount the bike when he reached a nearby alley.

There will come a time this summer when the majority of bikes are fixed and a large number of our patrons will be out on the roads and trails enjoying the warm weather and the ideal cycling conditions. Those of us left behind in the shop will have plenty of time to appreciate the opportunity to put away all the tools, straighten up the shop and maybe even have the time to play harmless pranks like putting out the wrong sign in the alley.

Let's Party!!

If you were going to have a party to thank the volunteers of a community bicycle shop wouldn't you include a bike ride in the celebration? And that is exactly what the Bicycle Commuters did this past Saturday evening - one of our city's first weekends of the year with hot, sunny weather.



The group rides through downtown

My daughter and I rode through downtown to reach BikeWorks North where we hoped to meet up with all the other cyclists and together ride to the party location in the west end.  A contingent of cyclists riding a variety of wheels were ready and waiting when we rode up to the shop.  I could see the BBQ bike parked off to the side and a crazy looking home made bike with an bizarre inflatable seat consisting of dozens of spiky air pockets.


The BBQ bike

 



The spiky seat

With Chris in the lead pulling a trailer with a powerful sound system, our group snaked its way through the inner city and the cluster of residents in front of a weathered looking church all turned their heads wondering where the loud 1980's music was coming from. From a bike?

Riding past the church

At the party site it was discovered that the BBQ bike had the BBQ but no charcoal briquets to use as a heat source to cook something I'd never heard of before - JAPADOGS.  A Japanese take on the standard summertime fare of grilled hotdogs but smothered in seaweed, Japanese mayonaise, Teryaki sauce, Japanese noodles or grated daikon.  Choices range from Terimayo, Yakisoba or Ume (sliced onion with plum sauce which apparently has a light, refreshing taste).  To everyone's delight, another BBQ was found and a stack of hot, juicy Japadogs disappeared in a matter of minutes while Chris and Robert provided musical accompanimant with a tiny accordion and accoustic guitar.

Loaded up Japadog

What with the warm weather, it was a choice of being eaten alive by the hungry mosquitos or joining in a miniature bike race where the mossies would not be able to stick to your flesh as you ripped around the westend backyard on a child's bike.

The miniature bike race begins

 

Pie Eyed

As evidenced by the long line-up of patrons waiting for the gates to open, the combination of a bike sale and a bake sale last weekend was much anticipated.

Courtesy of EBC

Artfully arranged on a table were double chocolate biscotti, gluten free, raw organic vegan brownies, chocolate chip banana bread, and a host of other delicious baked delights. One person had baked two "Surprise" pies. When asked, it turned out that the baker had made two different pies and then placed a pastry top on both. After pulling them from the oven, he couldn't remember which one was which but could remember that blueberries, Saskatoon berries, raspberries and rhubarb were the filling.

When the gates were opened at 1 pm, the waiting horde rushed in and scrambled to find the best bike and have it togged out with accessories like a bell, a lock and a mirror.  There was just as much activity at the baked goods table and a lot of attention was paid to the most imaginative creation - rootbeer flavoured lollipops with ball bearings suspended in their transparent goodness.  It should be pointed out that the silver balls weren't real ball bearings but the kind you find in the baking aisle of a grocery store.  Glancing down from the table, you would be able to see plenty of loose bearings littering the workshop floor and mistakenly think that they were the same ones in these enticing confections.

Photo by Coreen W.

How do you transport one of the "Surprise" pies when you're riding a bike?

Snow Way!

It sounded like rain when I went to bed last night but when I pulled my bike out of the garage this morning, that rain had turned to snow.  Big, white fluffy flakes filled the sky and changed the just-turning-green lawn a clean white.

Here we go again

After nearly seven months of snow, I had hung the winter bike up in the rafters of the garage when the first melt began a few weeks ago.  Putting the winter bike away meant having to dodge the odd patch of ice (mostly in the shady spots) since my regular commuting bike doesn't have studs - just big knobby tires.

The big knobbies

For all intents and purposes, this snowfall is more like a white rain and it reminds me of Dustin Hoffman's line from "Wag the Dog" when he says "This is nothing!"

Big Brother

Last week at a public meeting, the city presented the final plans for additional bike lanes to be added to the ever expanding bike route system.  Sitting and listening to the address, the thought struck me that it must be very difficult for this department of civic employees to have their voices heard over the noise coming from their big brothers in the transportation department.

Big Brother is watching

Someone asked why build bike routes when in the winter that is where all the snow is placed?  Judging from the answer, it reminded me of having to ask my father for my allowance and being afraid that he would brush off my request knowing I could do nothing about it.  The civic employee reponded to the question of snow removal by saying that they had mentioned it to the big, bureaucratic traffic department and that group shot back with: "It's the perfect place to put the snow!"

As part of the information session, long and detailed black and white photographic maps of the affected streets were displayed in the auditorium.  A part of the route I cycle was represented by a map 30 feet long that snaked across most of the room and it was fun to trace my commute along its black and white path. 

When I noticed that a bike lane was still planned for a section of my commute that is always dangerous because of large puddles of rain water and melt water, I had to conclude that the city's bicycle department had mentioned the problem to the transportation department but were probably told "Tell the cyclists that they will get a free bike wash when they ride on that lane!"

Belongs at Cabelas

Recently I came across a photograph of a tent trailer designed to be pulled behind a bike and while it is a nifty piece of equipment, I can't help but think that it is a little over the top.  Those of you who bikepack know how easy it is to pack too much stuff and pulling a trailer would only encourage such behaviour.

This is where it all starts

At Christmas, my son Christopher and I managed to separate ourselves from the women of the family so that we could go and explore all the things we like (which they don't).  This included visiting Cabelas, a monstrous sporting goods store which I had heard about years ago when a co-worker insisted that I would be impressed with that American retailer.

XL sized stuff here!

Its not the variety of goods available at Cabelas but the size of the equipment that made the biggest impression on me when Chris and I ventured down every aisle of the store.  Just about everything was designed for car camping - meaning size didn't really matter.  For those of us who bicycle camp, size matters a lot.  There is only so much gack that can fit in a saddlebag.  There are limitations to how much stuff can be attached to the bike itself and still be rideable.

If you are pulling a tent trailer behind your bike it is too tempting to fill it with large equipment like you would find at Cabelas.  A Coleman stove and lantern, a cooler, a hammock would be nice and how about some firewood for that quintessential backwoods campfire?  And of course if you're having a fire, why not pack a pie iron to make some of those scrumptious desserts to round out the menu?  I'm sure the staff at that giant store would be happy to help you fill a gigantic shopping cart so that your bikepacking experience is all it can be.

Be all you can be