Another year (day hundred and somethingth)

   Today I looked back at my first posts to think about where I am from where I began.  I still don't always feel that instant ease I sense from those who've biked consistently since childhood.  I'm not anxious on the bike anymore (I gripped the drops so tightly when I first started road biking that I tore the handlebar tape), but it's still not quite that almost oneness.  I know my bike, though, and I'm comfortable and am learning enough basic maintenance to do some repairs and tweaking.
   This year brought some fun new challenges, namely taking the bikes up into the mountains during a vacation in order to bike the famous Summit County bike trails.  They didn't disappoint.  My hybrid bike, though, did.  On the way back from our first (and ultimately only) family ride, my tube began bulging out of the tire and hitting the brake pads as it went around.  I had the sense to get off and have my daughter get off the tag-along that was attached, but even as I let out air, the darn tube exploded.  Not a pleasant way to end, walking the final quarter mile back to the car!  An attempt to replace the tube revealed that the bead had been damaged, so I couldn't get a seal against the rim....
   I did get out twice up there by myself on the road bike, too.  Once, I got a bit lost and turned around, so just above Frisco, I ended up heading back.  It was an experience, though, in that the planning of the ride on MapMyRide.com didn't reveal the sheer steepness of an area of the path as it went up the mountain!  The second time out alone, I'd reconfirmed where I was heading, so I didn't miss my turn.  I was also aware that every mountainous hill I sped down was one that I was going to face going back.  I made it as far as just before Dillon Dam when I turned back, clocking about 30 miles roundtrip that time.
   There is no doubt that getting to actually use my bicycle to get from one mountain city to another was a highlight this summer and that the bikes were taken to be part of the vacation.  I'm sorry that the hybrid's ruined tire kept more family rides from happening, but the scenery was breathtaking and well worth pushing my asthmatic lungs to their limits!
   Back on the plains, getting out on the bike has often been challenging.  The spring and early summer offered rain and high winds.  Then the heat came!  I've actually done well with getting out relatively early, but then I look back at the posts from that first summer and my going out every single morning!  Despite having no infants keeping us up with late feedings, it's harder for some reason, but I don't know why.  I now go on far longer rides...the hour I have to go out and be back can now be a 20-mile ride instead of 10- to 13-mile ride.  My wife has suggested it's part of the cost of the 50+ miles on Saturday: it wears me out too much to get up early during the week.  Still, I want to try...
   So, my main changes this summer have been that I can do that long 40-50 miles on the bike but no longer have to stop at the places I used to rest along the way, so my endurance is up significantly.  I used to stop at the bottom of a long hill of a road up to highway 36 and ponder why I was torturing myself, but I no longer do and, in fact, use my inhaler a couple miles back while staying on the bike.  I have even switched water bottles around without stopping, though it was a challenge.  To date, my longest single ride has been almost 55.5 miles, a long way from my first rides that were under five miles!
   I was getting some pain in my feet, so I have switched to road shoes from my touring shoes in order to have a stiffer sole.  I'm still using SPD pedals (now broader ones for road cycling) and haven't decided about switching to SPD-SL style pedals (my shoes can handle either type of cleats).  I have discovered the fun challenge of one-sided clipless pedals, though!  And by "fun," I mean the horror of trying to clip back in after stopping.  I get it: when out on the open road, you don't stop often, so having two-sided pedals is unnecessary.  But I have to get through town first!  And right now, the town is torn up all over the place for road construction....
   In the end, I'm not seeing the pounds melt away like that first year, but I'm not starting out with a bunch of weight to lose, plus the muscles in my legs are showing the effects of all my efforts...that and that nifty cyclist tan....

A rant

   There is a lot of negative, anti-cyclist press that I feel I need to respond to.  To begin, it's important to know that I am someone who was, as a child, terrified of riding a bicycle (well, mostly of falling off the bicycle), so my parents' gift to me for my tenth birthday still sits--barely used--in their shed thirty years later.  I am one who has always been annoyed by rude road cyclists who take up too much lane or seem to think they're a car or, even more annoying, they run red lights and stop signs.  I am that person who once jokingly commented on rolling down a window and tipping over a cyclist who was taking up too much shoulder on a twisting mountain road. Finally, I have two cars that are used as the main mode of commuting to jobs, so I pay taxes to road maintenance and usage.
   And I am someone who discovered the love and joy of cycling at the age of 36 and have now joined the leg-shaved masses on touring around on my road bike.  However, in getting to this place, I took baby steps (and that nasty fall I'd always feared, just 25 years late), so with my first hybrid bike, I discovered and enjoyed the spectacular multi-use paths we had in Longmont until the flooding left them in shambles.  Being on the paths, there's a certain etiquette, and people on it are there out for runs, walks, and rides to enjoy just being out.  As a cyclist, you announce yourself as you pass someone, so that a quick "On your left!" or "Behind you!" keeps others from being startled or stepping into your way, thereby hurting both of you  You wave and nod to those you pass in both directions.
    Then I entered the world of road cycling.  What a change!  I love the speed it allows and the more distant places I can reach; yes, I go out onto the country roads that have useless shoulders but barely any traffic so getting around me isn't an issue.  I now understand the fun of exploring new roads and seeing new things at a slower speed than zooming around in a car.  I don't have a death wish just because I'm out.  On the contrary, I'm doing something healthy by getting off my butt and getting some exercise. I sprint down hills not because I think I'm a car but because I'm challenging myself to see how fast I can go and how long I can maintain it.
   I also take with me the lessons I learned on the paths, offering at least a nod to those passing in the other direction and a quick announcement to whomever I may pass.  But it's not always met with the same kindness.  Often, people approach me from behind so that I don't know they're there until they're next to me.  A startle could easily lead to a swerve of the bike that would take us both out at 30 or more miles per hour (that's a car crash on a public street with only a helmet to keep me safe).  Most people or groups announce and wave in a sort of camaraderie, but it annoys me that so many don't, nor do these same cyclists respond to my attempts at being pleasant, or even making eye contact.  It would take so little, especially when we're all out there enjoying the same sport and risking ourselves the same way for the fun of the freedom.
   So I'm left with my final observation: the same people who are bent over their aerobars with a stern grimace as they pass without a wave or announcement are the same people who zip through traffic in their cars like they're the only ones there and cut in front of you in line at Target...some people are just rude.  Since we're all in it together, though, we should be mindful of each other with acknowledgements and work so that none of us as cyclists is a nuisance to cars and drivers by abiding the laws; after all, most cyclists are also drivers and know how dangerous a rude cyclist can be.  But drivers need to be aware that cyclists aren't always looking to be in your way or to do something they shouldn't.  I admit a time early on when I was stopped at red light on my hybrid and the light changed to green, my foot slipped from the pedal and nearly threw me.  I was shaken and got in someone's way but not out of rudeness but purely because it made me hesitant.
   And to those who aren't into cycling, don't judge the masses by the arrogant and rude few (there are hundreds of cyclists on the roads of Colorado at any given moment, so obviously, not all cyclists are in your way).  While I've made mistakes in traffic, it was never in an attempt to be rude or break the law but out of trying to figure out how it all works while also having to guess what a driver is going to do (if you've never been faced with unclipping from new pedals, you have no idea about how daunting having to unclip and put a foot down at a stop sign really can be).  And, for better or worse, rolling stops are the norm as much for cars as cyclists.

   I have pulled up on my bike to a full stop at a stop sign (staying on the shoulder) and had a truck pull up next to me then honk at me when I went through the stop on my turn (which people in cars often don't let cyclists do--they complain cyclists don't stop for stop signs but then don't let you go on your turn when you do) because the truck was turning.  Drivers must be thoughtful of what a cyclist can't do as well: even as I was obeying the law, even as I was taking my right-of-way, there was no way I could see turn signals on a truck that was behind me as he prepared to turn through me and take my right-of-way from me and kill me.  That driver probably went on to complain about the cyclist who got in his way but no doubt left out his rolling stop and failure to yield.

   It's all about being mindful of and pleasant to each other no matter the number of wheels beneath us. Most cyclists really aren't rude or arrogant; we're just out enjoying ourselves. To suggest that anyone deserves injury or death, even in the rare times it is the cyclist's fault instead of the driver's, is decidedly disturbing.