More Tech Talk & Some Travel Tips

Google bikes in Fremont

Last week I loaded my bike on the train for an over-night trip to Seattle. I got free fare with travel points from an Amtrak Mastercharge card, and I stayed at a new hostel in Fremont, which made for a very cheap quick get-away. The hostel room had three bunk-beds, shared with five other women, and bathrooms with shower, sink and toilet down the hall, for only $35 a night. The place is called something like The HotelHotel Hostel, and it was very clean and well-kept, with friendly staff and dramatic decor. The walls are mostly black, there is a glittery crystal chandelier by the front desk, and various funky-chic accents, with a honey bee theme. A cafe and music venue of some kind is on street level, right next to the stairs leading up to the lobby, so there was a lot of street noise even on a Thursday night. Also a 4am wake-up call from the city garbage trucks.

But that's Fremont.

Due to a misunderstanding about bicycle accommodations (my fault), I had to lock up my bike at a sidewalk rack over night, which made me nervous, but I told myself "don't be paranoid, it will be fine, fine, fine" and it was. At least, I think it was.

Union Station in Seattle

I rode about seventy miles over two days, getting to and from the train station and trying out the Burke-Gilman Trail. What with the Bertha tunnel-drilling delay, and various other construction and street improvement projects, Downtown Seattle is a disaster area this summer. I got out as soon as I could, walking my bike up Pike Street, across the freeway overpass to the bottom of Capitol Hill where I found a bike route to the University District, then over toward Fremont. Even in the U-District there are a lot of street repairs in progress, and many direction signs have been vandalized so it's hard to find the way through gaps in bike routes. I visited Gasworks Park and the Ballard Locks, and walked and rode the Burke-Gilman Trail. I braved the Ballard Gap, a very rough and confusing section of the BGT, which Cascade Bicycle Club is campaigning to complete. But I made it to Golden Gardens, for a walk along Shilshole Way and lunch at a cafe by one of the marinas. I used to take summer evening walks to the Coney Island hotdog stand by the public fishing piers at Golden Gardens Park, to get huge soft ice cream cones for a dollar. I was craving fish & chips, but their prices are too high for me now. It was good to see they're still there, though, along with so many of my old favorite haunts, elbow-to-elbow with newer, hipper places.

As mentioned in my previous post, I had done a kind of sloppy job of replacing the chain on my bicycle before I left. The drive train was noisy and raspy, but it worked fine, and I thought it would get better as the new chain settled in.

My spirit animal

Yesterday, back at home and running mundane errands, the chain jammed as I was riding up a hill, and it took a good ten or fifteen minutes of tugging, nudging and poking to work it loose so I could ride home. The poor bike did get dirty and banged around quite a bit on my trip, so today I set up my repair stand in the parking lot out back to give it some TLC. While cleaning the drive train I discovered that when I had put the new chain on, I had missed the guide-tab on one of the little jockey-wheels on the rear derailleur, so the chain was scraping on the outside of the tab instead of being held against the teeth of the cog.

I had used one of those magic gold-link chains that supposedly snap open and closed by hand, if you have strong hands and tough skin. I don't, but I can get old chains open using needle-nosed pliers. On the new chain, though, the gold link was too tight even with pliers. I finally had to use a chain-breaker tool to take out another link, thread the chain through the right way, then rejoin it with a second, used gold link. At least it's nice to know I hadn't cut the chain too short in the first place, and now my bike rides and shifts almost as smooth and quiet as new.

It took about three hours to do my regular, thorough clean-and-tune, plus the time to figure out what was wrong with the chain and fix it. I've learned to be pretty patient and persistent about figuring out mechanical stuff, even if I don't always get it right the first time. Still, all the time I was working, there was a part of my mind thinking someone must have tampered with my bike while it was on the train, or vandalized it while it was parked out on the street over night. And then another piece of my mind was saying, "Don't be paranoid. It's your own dumb fault."

Maintenance Issues

Last March when I brought my new bicycle (a Cannondale Synapse 7) home from the REI store in Alderwood, I was so nervous about carrying it on the front rack of the bus that I sat up front and watched it all the way, worrying that it would bounce out of the rack on the freeway. Now some of the newness has worn off and I'm back to taking the philosophical view that bikes are meant to be used and road-worn. When I park in a public bike rack I still try to position it so the glossy black paint doesn't get chipped, but I just touch up the dings with a little model-car paint.

By the time I had ridden 1100 miles, I was beginning to think the chain was wearing, and the middle gears looked a little worn, too. This seemed a bit premature, but then some reviews of this bike had described the drive-train parts as "entry-level". My plan was to just wear them out and then upgrade if I liked the bike, which I do.

REI Co-op usually recommends bringing a new bike in for a tune-up after thirty days, but when I went in to the Bellingham store they wouldn't look at it, said to come back in six months. I'm not sure whether to blame this on the notorious Cannondale marketing restrictions, or on bike mechanics' typical assumption that a middle-aged woman like me doesn't really ride that much.

Anyhow, by the time I had more than 1500 miles on the bike, the rear brake pads were worn out and my chain-checker tool showed the chain needed to be replaced, so I decided to fix it myself. The brakes are easy, I've had lots of practice with that after several years of rainy-season commuting. But I messed up a little with the chain - I measured it against the old one, but when I cut off the extra few inches I must have shifted one link over. The chain came out just a tiny bit too short, so I can't shift to the biggest rear gear and top chain ring. But you never use that gear combination anyway, right? Also, since the middle gears are worn there is a lot of chain-rub and the ride is kind of raspy now. I still plan to just wear the parts out all together, but then I'll probably have to replace them myself because I'll be too embarrassed to go in to the shop and let the REI mechanics see what I've done.

In other news . . .

Last week a Washington State Court of Appeals ruled that bicycling is not only a recreational activity, but a "means of ordinary travel" and "an integral part of Washington's multimodal transportation plan." In a case against the City of Port Orchard, the court affirmed that city transportation authorities must provide safe roadways for bicycles. (See http://wabikes.org/2016/07/06/traffic-court-says-cities-must-maintain-streets-bicyclists/.) This wording is still open to plenty of argument, but the case in Port Orchard will require better maintenance of streets. And the decision supports the idea that safe alternate routes for bicycles should be created, along with development of automobile roads.

Local bicycle activists have told me that in Bellingham and Whatcom County, safety improvements to streets and roadways are "complaint driven". They say local governments usually won't put up money for projects until there is a history of complaints, usually involving property damage, injury or even fatalities. Roundabouts built recently on major truck routes may be an exception, but they are needed to speed commercial traffic to and from the border crossings. And the City of Bellingham has made a lot of progress toward its goal of becoming a recognized "Bicycle Friendly City".

But road improvements still often seem to be trial-and-error projects, subject to compromise and politics.

Pole Road, by Raspberry Ridge Golf Course

On an after-dinner bike ride last week, I discovered that a rumble strip has been added to a section of Pole Road, near Hannegan. Traffic lanes here are narrow, and there is only a 12-18 inch strip of pavement next to the loose gravel shoulder. This doesn't allow enough room for the grooved strips to be cut at the edge of the car lanes, so the road crew (county or state, I'm not sure who is in charge here) just cut a single rumble strip down the middle of the road. Which is a great way to wake up drunk or distracted drivers who drift across the center line, but any driver who moves to the left to allow three feet of space to pass a bicyclist, will also hit the rumble strip. And I could hear every car that came rumbling up behind me, even though I tried to hug the edge of the pavement.

Cherry Street, Ferndale

Another peculiar improvement project is on Cherry Street in Ferndale, on the block between the Boys and Girls Club, and the elementary school play fields. There is a wide paved shoulder with "no parking" signs, but it isn't marked as a bike lane, and it is often used as a parking lane when parents are picking up kids, or during school or club events.

In the past few months, on at least three occasions when I was passing by, city or county police had stopped and arrested youngish males in sporty cars. Since this is a school zone the offenders may have run afoul of either speed limits or special restrictions against drug activity near areas where children are present. It's probably also happened at times when I didn't happen to be around.

Anyhow, either to prevent loitering or to clear up traffic back-ups on the street, someone (the City of Ferndale, probably) installed these orange plastic pole-barriers straight down the middle of the lane. They are placed about one-and-a-half bike lengths apart, which makes sort of a fun slalom course along the street, and there is still plenty of room to bike or walk on either side. It just looks odd.