Droppings: Wind Resistance

September 24, 2003

Wind Resistance

I'm officially in middle of my second week of biking to work. I've been wanting to do this for some time, but a couple things kept holding me back:

1) Busted, rustified bikes.
2) Fear of traffic
3) Combover issues
4) General laziness

A few months ago, I was out playing softball with a bunch of folks, and running bases over and over (since I'm a mastah hittah), but I ended up blowing my lungs out and collapsing on a bench, and had to put a Bogart on Amanda's asthma inhaler. The fact that Gloria bulldozed my butt into the dirt at second base didn't help things either. (My hips are still all jacked up after that, and I will get you someday Glo!) So anyway, that was just one of those things warning me yet again that I'm just a few steps away from complete cardiovascular collapse. I mean, how am I supposed to have enough stamina to run through the office screaming and dive through a dual-pane window when a disgruntled ex-employee busts in and shoots the place up?

So I swindled Amanda out of her old Huffy men's bike, got a new seat, tires, lube for the chain, headlight, taillight, and helmet and shaped it all back up a bit. Most of my peers ride quality bikes with shock absorbers and stuff, and discuss name brand biker shorts, and own hydro packs and Fremen still-suits. But I've always just ridden laughing-stock garbage scows in my levis and a t-shirt and continue to do so. The helmet is a new thing though. I never wore one all the years I rode to school, or when I worked in downtown Phoenix. But it's a good idea. I've seen and heard from enough people since then who've gotten messed up from biking accidents, that I'm sold on the idea.

Except for the hair thing.

Combovers don't play well with helmets. I'm talking about dry, feathered combovers, not those greasy, stringy combovers. You could have somebody sit down on one of those, twist around a couple times, and then have a dog lick it and it wouldn't look any worse. But the kind of combover I try to wear has a very narrow margin for presentability. And I was all kinds of worried that the helmet would have me looking like Bill the Cat by the time I got to work every day. But after getting a nice, scalpy hair cut, and waiting until I get to work to style and spray, it's not as bad as I thought.

So anyway, it's a 7 mile round trip each day. Which is pretty wimpy in the grander scheme of things, I know. But what I thought was a level ride, as I drove in my car, is actually a pretty steady grade upward on the way to work in the morning. Man that tore me up the first day. My mouth was hanging wide and I was coughing like a smoker by the time I got there. But it's gotten better every day since. I've also worked the route out so I confront the minimum of traffic on the no-shoulder/tractor-trailor carnival sections. A half mile of that goes along a rock and gravel path next to the railroad tracks. That's the part I enjoy most, due to the huge prairie dog community that gets put in an uproar every time I roll through. I guess they're used to all the trains barreling through there. But when I move in, they start squeak-barking at each other, and I can just imagine the content: "Fat man on a little bike! Fat man on a little bike!" And then you see these furry bullets scurrying back and forth across the path, with little trails of dust marking their passage. I caught one of them unaware last week and got to see a good 5 or 6 seconds of scuttling white prairie dog butt running directly in front of me before it peeled off into the brush.

The fact that it's uphill on the way to work, obviously means it's mainly downhill going home, which is an extra bonus at the end of a long, hard day of sitting on my can. Hooray!

Oh! Here's a picture of the jumping spider that's been haunting our living room ceiling.

I'm kind of partial to these spiders (phiddippus pulcherrimus?). I've seen them in white, and red like this one. Besides beeing a cool-looking critter, watching it dodge around up there looking for goodies is entertaining. Knocking down the dessicated mosquito husks with a broom is a minor pain, but very satisfying.

Also, I managed to scan some pre-digital pictures and add them to the Fancies section.

Posted by Jeremy at September 24, 2003 5:25 PM