Petunia Revolution

Ferndale has spectacular petunia baskets hanging from practically every lamp post on Main Street, blooming since I moved here in May.  Some of them are at least four feet across, big enough to obscure crosswalk signals - not that I'm complaining, but they could be trimmed back a bit.  A couple of mornings a week, an elderly man drives on the sidewalk in a miniature John Deere truck with a water tank and a hose with a long wand attachment, so he can reach up from the driver's seat to water them.

A transportation-planner I know once noted that studies have shown that planting trees along a street causes car traffic to slow by ten miles an hour, and I recall reading that flower baskets have a similar psychological effect.  During a low point of one of the Puget Sound region's regular Boeing-boom-and-bust cycles, when local governments were looking for ways to revitalize small towns and neighborhoods, it was suggested that planting flowers helps promote optimism and encourage redevelopment.  Bright, colorful planter boxes, baskets or flower borders cause people to take a second look at a street and think, "Hey, it's not so bad here.  This could be a real nice place."  So they went ahead and planted flowers, even though there wasn't much budget money, without any real business prospects, or plans for investment or development.

Sometimes I entertain myself with making up a sci-fi ecological disaster story, imagining mutant petunias that run wild and smother a small town.  But then I had another whimsical thought that's starting to seem like a good idea.  A counter to the Tea Party movement:  the Petunia Revolution.  Just start by remembering the people who put tax cuts before all, ahead of developing ideas to provide services, stimulate business and create jobs.

Remember when re-election time comes around.

Feels so much better

The morning after I picked up my new bike, as I was heading out the door to work, I discovered the front tire on my old bike was flat.  I'd meant to test-ride the Surly before taking it to work, but I was already about five minutes late getting out the door and didn't have time to fix the flat.  Good thing I had a back-up bike.  I've been riding the Surly sixteen miles a day, four days a week, to and from work since the first week of August - more than 150 miles already.

The Cross-Check comes equipped with a men's saddle, and the store didn't give me the option of ordering a women's saddle, based on the old misconception that men are normal and women are not, I guess.  The standard saddle has a largish hump on the nose, which puts painful pressure on some very tender soft tissue when I lean forward.  Moving the seat down about a quarter inch helped, but after only twelve or fifteen miles I'd find I was tilting my pelvis back to relieve pressure at the front, causing pain in my spine and low back muscles.  Luckily I still have the original Terry women's saddle from my K2.  The cover had weathered and split, but I patched it with moleskin and rubber cement and replaced the men's saddle.  It's just the thing - I've done a couple of 25-mile rides since, with no discomfort.

New Wheels

Pent-up demand - probably about the sexiest term in economics.  After considering buying a new bicycle for two or three years, at the end of July I finally went for it.

My old bike, a K2 Tradewind, is a women's hybrid frame with straight handlebars that has taken me for some very good rides, and through some very hard times.  I've been riding it for at least six years, including a summer of fund-raising and training to ride the Seattle-to-Portland with the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team in Training in 2007.  I rode my first century that summer, and the Flying Wheels Century, and then the two-day 204-mile ride to Portland.  I rode it to work and school through some cold, wet, dark winters.  Last summer my K2 carried me through the mountains on Highway 66 to United Bicycle Institute in Ashland, where I inflicted a near-complete overhaul on it.  Last winter I was evicted from my home of ten years because I kept my K2 in my living room, and the three of us - my bike, my cat and me - spent a month camping out in cheap motels until I could find another place.

So I'm sentimental about it.  But I'd begun to think I had out-grown the frame without growing any taller.  The short top tube made me feel hunched over and curled up my spine painfully.  Not that woman-specific frames are a bad design, but probably after four or five years I'd developed enough upper-body and torso strength that I don't feel too stretched out leaning and reaching for the handlebars on a standard frame.

I decided I wanted a steel-frame commuting and touring bike with low gears for hill-climbing, that could be fitted with racks and fenders for light touring, shopping and commuting.  I considered several different bikes, all in roughly the same price range, including a Kona touring bike, a Masi, Raleigh, Novara, Fuji or Surly.  I also looked at used bikes, but it's rare to find good-quality smaller frames.  Last fall I had decided on a Fuji classic steel touring bike that came equipped with racks and a triple chain-ring, but just when I was about to get out my checkbook, I lost my job.

By now it's becoming painful to ride my old frame, and with the limited bus service to my new place in Ferndale, I really need reliable transportation.  A new bicycle is still more affordable than buying and keeping a car, even though it took a chunk of my savings and added to the charge card debt I haven't paid off from last winter.

I chose a Surly Cross-Check, which I've been riding daily for two weeks.  I still feel a bit shaky reaching for the brake levers and bar-end shifters, and I'm still getting used to the gearing, but it's definitely stretching out my back.  It looks a lot prettier without the lights, computer, rack and bottle-cages I added, but they're necessities.  I'll probably add fenders later in the fall, and might want a women's saddle if I start doing rides of more than about thirty miles.  So far I'm very pleased, but not ready to part with my K2.

I should have said right . . .

. . . off of Mountain View Road at Olson Road, then straight on to Vista Drive.  If you turn left, you'll get a nice flat ride, but probably more than seven miles.  Maybe I'll try that way next week.  Sorry.

Seemed like the whole county was out mowing last week

This afternoon I went on a short but invigorating ride, starting with the Mountain View Road hill climb out of town.  Then I turned left on Olson Road and kept going until it intersected with Vista Drive, about seven miles from First & Main in Ferndale.  Lots of pretty farm scenes and super-sized lawns out this way.

Many of the farm roads criss-crossing each other north of town have stretches of rolling hills.  The short but steep hills make for hard climbs and fast down-hills.  The roads are two-lane with no paved shoulder, but not too much car traffic.  It's easy to ride at traffic speed on the downhills, but a cyclist is likely to back up traffic on the uphills.  This time of year you'll have to watch out for farm trucks, and hay mowers and balers.

Just as I pulled up to the stop sign at the end of Olson Road, a passing farm truck dropped a half bale of hay squarely in the middle of the traffic lane on Vista Drive, and drove on without even slowing down.  This is a two-lane road with little shoulder, and fast and frequent car traffic.  Thinking the bale could be a serious hazard, I rolled it off to the side of the road.  It was surprisingly light, I was able to pull and roll it with one arm.

I often stop to move dangerous debris out of the road, hoping it will generate good karma that will protect me from road ragers, speeders, drunk drivers and people who can't keep off the phone while driving.