Lizard in the Trash

My hubby was sitting out on the patio the other evening and heard a strange noise. He finally tracked it down to a rustling in the trash can. When he looked he saw a lizard in the sack that is in a plastic basket type trash container. Poor thing in their with hubby's stinky cigerate butts and ashes. After taking it's photo we released it into the garden. We have no idea how it got there. Did one of the cats put it there? Or did it manage to climb into the container? Seemed an odd thing for a lizard to be climbing if that is how it got there.

Exploring by Bike: Alternative to Touring

While I both travel and cycle a great deal, I have come to the conclusion that bicycle touring is not for me. This is not to say that I have anything against bicycle touring at all; it sounds like fun for those who enjoy it, and I love reading others' accounts of it. But it does not appeal to me personally for the same reason I've never liked touring in general: I am not satisfied passing through places. For instance, the idea of touring Ireland - that is, trying to see as much of the island as possible by going from town to town - would leave me feeling disoriented and empty. I enjoy getting to know a place, connecting to it in some way. And I don't feel that I can do that via sight seeing and moving on.






The way I see bicycle touring, is that it is first and foremost about traveling by bike. But what if we want to delve deeper rather than go further? Exploring by bicycle could be a rewarding alternative.






My idea of exploring involves choosing a location of significance, and committing to staying there for whatever length of time is sufficient in order to feel settled. For me that means a minimum of a week. The key is then to have something to do there other than sightseeing in of itself. A work-related project. An artistic, literary or research pursuit. Relatives or friends to visit. Something that anchors me to the place and provides an occupation.






Long ago I've noticed that when we approach a trip as a vacation, we expect the place we are visiting to entertain us. But that approach cannot possibly reveal what this place is truly like. For that we need to actually experience it in a real-life setting, as a temporary resident with a purpose rather than as a tourist. We will still get to see all the sights while there, but everything we see will attain a far greater sense of context and personal meaning.





We will also be much more likely to notice nuances that might have otherwise evaded us.







So where does the bicycle come into all of this? Well, to me the bicycle makes an ideal tool for exploring, in that it allows me to set my own pace and to vary that pace spontaneously. I can go as fast or as slow as I like. I can cover long distances or I can ride around in circles. I can carry all that I need with me for the day, transitioning easily between cycling for the sake of cycling, exploring, and transportation. On my first day on the Antrim coast my travel radius was tiny, but I rode quite a bit. Another day I might find myself 50 miles from my home base.





On my bike, I can feel the landscape open up and reveal itself to me as it never does with any other mode of transportation. I can also ride to the grocery store - or to the pub, or to the library, or to a meeting, or to a friend's house.







The bike allows me to feel at home, comfortable, and entirely independent in the place I am exploring and I couldn't ask for more. Maybe I will tour some day. But for now I prefer to stay put and go deep. The bicycle is as perfect of a companion for this kind of travel as it is for touring. The possibilities are endless.

A Moveable View

Staying by the sea, I notice how unaccustomed I've become to a stationary view of any kind. Back in the city, the windows of my apartment offer vistas of a brick wall, a narrow alley, a tangle of branches and telephone wires. And I usually keep the blinds closed when I work anyhow; there is too much commotion outside.



But now I sit on this porch, just yards from the water's edge. A vast harbor is stretched out in front of me. The surface ripples of the cerulean water are like a silk scarf fluttering in the wind. Lobster buoys bob up and down. Now and then a fishing boat goes by. A family of swans travels back and forth along the shore in perfect peloton formation.



It is peaceful and almost improbably beautiful. And as I try to work, I find that it drives me nuts - the unchangeability of it. I am not used to looking at scenery so... passively. My eyes focus on the right outeredge of the harbor, where the rocky shore curves and disappears from view. As I study it, the curve begins to look hard-etched and forbidding, willfully preventing me from seeing beyond the bend.



In fact, I know - roughly at least - what lies around the bend; I have been there many times. A hilly back road winds along the shore's edge sleepily. There is a small patch of dense woods along the cliffs, then a gravel garden path, a wild rocky beach, an abandoned coast guard's tower... Soon I am visualising each of these landmarks in great detail, picturing them as they look when I cycle past them. I laugh at myself, realising that I am enjoying this mental game more than looking at the view in front of me.



I close my laptop, get on my bike and take off just as the sun begins to set, heading for the hilly back road that will take me around the bend. No one else is here. The road narrows and steepens dramatically and I get into my lowest gear. With each pedal stroke I see more and more of the landscape that was hidden from view as I sat on the porch just minutes earlier, and this fills me with an absurd sense of fulfillment. I reach the top easily, unhurriedly, and there sits the patch of woods with its narrow mossy path to the edge of the cliff. I keep going, coasting down the steep hill now at what feels like flying speed, passing all the landmarks I'd recalled. The mysterious garden path, the wild beach. And I remember now also the old sprawling house with a beautiful garden and the "bunnies for sale" sign taped to the green fence. After the coastguard's house I stop and turn around, my urge to experience a movable view satisfied. It seems silly now to have taken this short ride for no reason at all, but I am pleased.



I roll up to the porch as the last of daylight disappears. The vast harbor is still there, its fluttering silk surface now a deep indigo. A green light flickers in the distance. A stray boat is being rowed ashore. The swan peloton is making its last round. I get my coffee cup and turn on the porch light, ready to settle down in the stillness. But I know the moveable view will call out to me again tomorrow, even though I know what's around the bend.

They Think You're Eccentric

"I don't want to go around in a car all the time. I don't think it's healthy. But if they see you walking on a road out there, they think you're eccentric."



These words were uttered by "Little Edie" Beale, the reclusive cousin of Jacqueline Kennedy, as an explanation for why she finally decided to sell the dilapidated Long Island estate Grey Gardens where she'd been holed up for decades with several dozen cats.The irony of this statement coming from her aside, there is undoubtedly a truth to it.



As a teenager in a New England suburb in the 1990s, I was among the very few students in my high school who did not drive. My boyfriend was another such anomaly. We walked home from school together almost every day and it was just under 3 miles, taking us down the main street that stretched through the center of town and then along a woodsy park road that wound around a lake. I remember these walks vividly, because together with the scenery and the endless deep conversations there was always a degree of dread mixed into it. Everything would be wonderful until someone would drive by and shout something nasty at us. It could be students from the school or it could be adults from town, and the harassment usually varied from random hooting to things like "Whatsamatta kid, too poor to drive your girl to the woods?" On occasion, even a police car would slow down to make sure we weren't up to no good - just because we were walking.



While mostly we were okay with all of this and even found it funny, it would be a lie to pretend it did not get to us on some level. One Valentine's Day we got into an argument, because we wanted to go for ice cream, but both secretly dreaded the idea of walking or riding our bikes there - kind of difficult to maintain a romantic mood while getting harassed. When I think back on this, the absurdity of it overwhelms me. But that's really how it was in our town, at least in the 90s.



In the American suburbs getting around other than in a car is not normal, and I think we underestimate the extent to which this social element is an obstacle to walking and cycling. The majority of people do not wish to be perceived as poor, eccentric, or even "different" as they go out for ice cream on Valentine's Day.

Best Wishes...

The past few days I've been a bit under the weather... until I get back, please check out the posts my fellow genea-bloggers have contributed to the Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories that has been hosted by Thomas MacEntee. I know that it has been a lot of work for you Thomas, but the time you spent putting it all together has been appreciated. Thank you Thomas! I have certainly enjoyed reading all of the articles. Thank you to everyone who participated.



To each and everyone, I wish you the best Christmas ever and may the spirit of the season be with you.

If you are in need of a good laugh (and aren't we all at some point during the holidays?) Janice Brown's video cartoons of GeneaBlogging Elves Running Amok will certainly cheer you up!

The Feel of a Smaller Wheel

This spring I've been test riding a 26" wheel Sogreni city bike, and some readers have asked what I think of the 26" wheels - specifically, do I find the handling sluggish and do I think the frame could fit a 700C wheelset. The answer is that I do not find it sluggish at all, and believe that the 26" wheels were a good choice for this frame - allowing for aggressive front end geometry with no toe overlap. The bike is pretty fast and maneuverable, and I do not notice the wheel size at all.




Back when I was riding a Pashley Princess and describing the handling as slower than several similar bikes I'd tried, many expressed the opinion that this was due to differences in wheel size. The Princess is fitted with 26" wheels, whereas the other bikes I compared it to were fitted with 28" wheels. Despite a few contradicting voices (most notably that of Jan Heine), it is commonly believed that larger wheels are faster, and that it is always better to use 28" or 700C rather than 26" or 650B, unless the builder/manufacturer is trying to achieve something specific with sizing or clearances.






While I cannot contribute scientific evidence to the wheel size debate, personally I am comparatively indifferent at this stage. I've ridden fast bikes with 28" wheels, 700C wheels, 650B wheels, 26" wheels. I've ridden slow bikes with 28" wheels, 700C wheels, 650B wheels, 26" wheels. Recently I tried a very cool 26" wheel roadbike, made by Richard Sachs for a local cyclist. I would need to put it through a real road test to really comment about it, but around the neighborhood I could not discern any difference in handling, any hesitation in accelerating, compared to a 700C roadbike. And the proportions work so nicely for a cyclist of shorter stature, maybe even for someone my height. I am surprised that shorter women getting custom frames don't go for 26" more often.






Folding bikes and mini-bikes suffer even more from the small wheel bias. Just the other night a friend was telling me that he finds the idea of a folding bike convenient, but cannot imagine the small wheels being adequate. Having ridden Bromptons on a number of occasions now, I disagree as does the Co-Habitant. While I am sure that some folding bikes are slow, it probably has more to do with how the bike itself is designed than with the small wheel size. To me, the 16" wheels on a Brompton feel no slower than full size wheels. I have also spoken to cyclists who ride Moultons and Bike Fridays with dropbars as their main roadbikes, finding them more than adequate for club rides and pacelines.




I am not saying there are no discernible differences between wheel sizes, all else remaining equal. But in the scheme of things, there are so many other factors affecting speed and handling, that I feel the importance of wheel size is disproportionally stressed. It seems to me that getting the tubing, geometry and positioning just right for a cyclist of a given size should be the primary goal, and the wheel size should be a function of that - not the other way around. I am open-minded about smaller wheels and would like to try more bikes with them.

Door Slave

it seems that I have become a door slave to 2 dogs and 3 cats. Of course I have known for the past 50 years I have been a door slave to large number of dogs and cats but it seems to be worse the past week or so. There is always one or another of them wanting in or out. They come in, they go out. And repeat. And repeat. The dogs have to go to use the facilities. But the cats were supposed to be indoor cats. I insisted on my cats being indoor cats if I lived in town, especially in an apartment. but here on several areas they enjoy going out as much as I do. I don't force them to go out, but I do "train" as much as you can train a cat to come in at dark each evening. I do it by constant, presistently doing a "cat roundup" each evening. They don't like it but it is a necessary evil as we have coyotes in our area. I see a lot of cats in our area now that are out at night and I am surprised more of them don't disappear. In the mean time I will continue to be a door slave. I just wish they wouldn't always wait until I sit down to ask to come in.

Moving On :: Back in the Lower 48

Wednesday, September 1st - - It was cool this morning when I woke up but there was sunshine and blue skies overhead, for which I was very thankful. After finding free wifi (at a Safeway grocery store!) in Smithers and spending an hour uploading and scheduling blog posts, it was almost eleven o'clock before I was on my way once again.

Yesterday I had gotten to the end of the Cassiar Highway and turned east onto the Yellowhead Highway (Route 16). The last two hours on the Cassiar I saw perhaps two dozen vehicles. That number was surpassed in two minutes on the Yellowhead. It was as though I had turned the corner and gone into a whole different world. Not only was there more traffic, but the landscape was different too. There were still mountains and forests but there were also open areas of pasture and farmland. Houses, and buildings, and utility poles lined the highway for miles. Towns! And traffic! Civilization? Instead of watching out for bears and moose and other four legged critters I had to watch out for other drivers.

I continued east on the Yellowhead Highway to Prince George where I turned south on the Cariboo Highway (Route 97). There was road construction on the Cariboo, which caused some delay but it wasn't too bad although traffic was backed up for quite a ways. In one section they had completely torn up the road bed and it was a big mess. Concentrating on getting through that area I caught a glimpse of something walking along the side of the highway. I couldn't hardly believe my eyes – it was a black bear! And a pretty good-sized one too. There were no construction workers nearby so no one was in any immediate danger but still, it was there amongst all the noise and traffic, out in the open, and I could see it in my rear-view mirror as I drove on.

A short time later I stopped at the Canyon Creek Campground and RV Park in Hixon, about 35 miles south of Prince George. It had been a short driving day, only 265 miles. And it was only 410 miles more to the U.S. Border.

I would be remiss in not mentioning the fact that today - September 1, .. - marks the beginning of the second year of this incredible journey. One year ago I embarked upon an odyssey that has taken me places I had only dreamed of and some places that I had never heard of...

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Thursday, September 2nd - - It was another chilly morning. Cloudy but no rain. Continued heading south on the Cariboo Highway to Cache Creek where I turned west onto Trans-Canada Highway 1. By the time I got to Cache Creek at two o'clock the temperature had risen to 74 degrees – the warmest temperature I'd seen in three weeks! And it felt good. At 4:30, even though I was only about 60 miles from the U.S. border, I stopped for the night at the Telte-Yet Campground in Hope, British Columbia - it was 77 in the shade! Awesome. After paying for the campsite, I had $10 in Canadian currency left and figured this would be my last night in Canada, so I walked across the steet to Dairy Queen and had a banana split to commemorate the occasion!

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Friday, September 3rd - - Sunny skies once again. Left Hope at 9:30 this morning and got to the Sumas, Washington border crossing at 10:45 along with lots of other vehicles. I lucked out and got into a fast-moving lane - it only took twenty minutes to get through. There was no fancy sign, like in Alaska, welcoming me back – just this electronic billboard flashing its message...

I was “home” again, and happy to be here!

Cycling Shorts: Care and Rotation

The process of laundering padded bicycle shorts has confused me for as long as I've worn them. Over the summer I cycled pretty much every day, which meant having to wash the one pair of shorts I owned every night (the shorts were wool, but the chamois still had to be washed). After several months of this the shorts looked like they'd been dragged through the hedge backwards, and I am sure the frequent washing and wringing caused this at least as much as the wear. The same happened in the fall/winter season with my synthetic tights. I've tried different techniques, washing by hand in the sink in the most gentle manner possible. I also try to wash just the chamois area and not the entire short, which speeds drying time and decreases wear on the rest if the fabric. Now that I have a new pair of special club-embroidered shorts, I don't want them to meet the same fate as my old ones. Is there a special soap I'm supposed to use? Is there a way to dry the shorts overnight without wringing them out?



The other day I received the packing list for CORPSCamp - my upcoming 5 day trip to Death Valley - and this list says to pack 5 pairs of cycling shorts. As in, one for each day. I was kind of shocked to see that, and suddenly felt like that kid at school who gets made fun of for wearing the same outfit every day. Are you seriously telling me that cyclists own that many shorts? What about the people I ride with who always wear their club's kit - do they own multiple pairs of identical shorts, so it just looks like they're wearing the same thing?..The logistics are mystifying.



So let me ask this straight out: Assuming you are a roadcyclist, how many pairs of bicycle shorts do you have in rotation at a time? And how do you launder them?

Night moves

For the past couple of years we've forgone exchanging Christmas presents, and bought something for the two of us. This year it was a game camera! It finally arrived, and we waited with bated breath for the first night's pictures.

Except there weren't any. It was pointed too high. So for the second night we lowered the angle, and by morning we had two pictures that were not a) Jasmine, or b) us.


3:56 AM: Coyote in a hurry.


5:03 AM: Star-struck spike buck.

We put out a mineral lick and some corn, to try to make the critters stop and pose. But we may need to move the camera to an area that's not quite so open, if the animals continue to stay so far from the flash area.


Close-up of the coyote.


Close-up of the deer.

Why is he looking directly into the camera, I wonder? I can't hear the camera trigger, but maybe he can.

I've wanted a camera like this since we first moved here. They say that there are no bears or mountain lions here anymore... we'll see!

The camera we got is the Cuddeback 3.0. The only downside is that the picture is taken about a second after the trigger. Still, that's a lot better than many of the competing models with 5 or 10 second triggers. And to get one faster (1/10 second) would have meant spending $1000, so...

I can't wait to see what all goes on at night when we're asleep!

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Go to the Cuddeback photo gallery for some really great wildlife pics from Cuddeback owners. Mostly deer, but also elk, bears, bobcats, and even a wolverine! Judging from the number of new pictures added daily, a lot of people received Cuddebacks for Christmas.

No show

We didn't have much luck viewing the meteors. (We never do, we don't stay up that late.)



So I played around with the camera a while. I call this an artistic amount of blurriness.



That's not really a street sign, it says "old fisherman crossing". I would've taken it down, but Hubby likes it.

Birmingham, or Centerpoint at least, is in the direction of that glow in the sky.

Purple Leaf Plum Tree

This is called a purple leaf plum. It is an ornimental tree with no fruit. I don't have any like this. I found some beauties downtown so stopped to take some photos.

Kittens at Play

Floor Pumps: What's Your Favourite?

Occasionally I will hear from readers who are having trouble pumping their own tires, and inevitably the cause ends up being their bicycle pump. Sometimes it is simply a matter of the pump not accommodating their bicycle's valve system and the new cyclist not realising this. Other times, the pump's chuck (the part that fits onto the valve) is difficult to get on and off without causing damage.There are also those who lacksufficient upper body strength to operate their pump effectively.




As someone who can pump my own tires despite poor upper body strength and poor dexterity, one thing I can say is that the pump matters a great deal. It surprises me how many cyclist initially plan to get by with just the hand-held pump they bought for their tool bag. Floor pumps are much easier to use than hand-held pumps, requiring considerably less effort to operate.




But not all floor pumps are made equal. At home I use a Pedros Racing Service floor pump and have had no complaints about it over the years. However, this model is no longer in production and I've read mixed reviews about the current Pedro models. I have also tried enough floor pumps to know that some can be difficult and awkward to use. When readers ask for recommendations I am not sure what to suggest.




My general thoughts on what makes a good floor pump are that it ought to:




. be sufficiently heavy so as to remain stable in use (steel barrel),

. require a reasonable amount of force to operate,

. have an accurate pressure gauge,

. have a dual head to accommodate Presta and Schrader valves,

. have a chuck that is easy for the average person to fit and remove.




What is your favourite bicycle floor pump? Recommendations and suggestions are most welcome.

Foothills

Foothills, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

A view from Diablo Foothills Regional Park. The hills remind me of Ireland around this time of the year.

Leather Saddles from Cardiff and VO

A few years back, both Velo Orange and the Merry Sales/ Soma/ IRD group began releasing Taiwan-made leather saddles, which have been available as less pricey alternatives to the racing, touring and commuting models from Brooks of England. The saddles from Velo Orange are VO-branded, and the saddles from Merry Sales are sold under the Cardiff brand. Though both companies use the same manufacturer (Gyes) and offer equivalent models, they are not identical; subtle differences in specs are apparent. Still, the overall construction and design are the same. Since many have been wondering about the feel and quality of these saddles, I thought it would be useful to describe my experiences.






My first experience with a VO Saddle was when Velo Orange donated one for the vintage touring bike give-away I was doing last year. The model is what they call the Model 3 Touringandis equivalent to a Brooks B17 in width and general shape. The VO Model 3 features chromed rivets, side lacing, saddlebag loops, and a pebbled surface.






When the saddle arrived and I took it out of the box, I was initially not impressed. I thought the feel of the leather was somewhat "cardboard-like." To the touch it felt both stiffer and more brittle than a Brooks saddle. The underside had a grid-like surface to it, almost as if the material was some sort of compound. I did not have high hopes for what something like this would feel like to ride.






However, my expectations proved wrong once I started test riding the bike on which the saddle was fitted. Saddle preferences are highly personal, so I can only say that I found the VO Model 3 extremely comfortable. It did not need breaking in. In action, it felt neither too stiff nor too soft. The width and shape felt just right for my sitbones on a roadbike set up with the bars level with saddle height. The nose did not dig into any sensitive areas. My first ride on the saddle was 20 miles without padded shorts and it felt great. It felt equally great on subsequent test rides. As this was not my own bike, I was not able to provide feedback as to how the saddle felt on longer rides and how it held up over time, which is why I did not post a review. But based on my limited experience, I was impressed and made a mental note to go for this model next time I needed to buy a touring bike saddle. The VO Model 3 is not as luxurious as a Brooks B17, but to me it felt more comfortable out of the box.






When Soma offered to send me a Smoothie roadbike for review earlier this spring, we discussed specs and I asked them to include a green Cardiff Cornwall saddle. I was curious whether this saddle would be suitable for a more aggressive roadbike set-up, and I also wanted to see how it compared to the VO version I'd tried earlier. Overall, the Cardiff Cornwall looks very similar to the VO Model 3, except for the colour choices. Also, the Cardiff has a smooth surface, whereas VO's is pebbled. There might be other subtle differences in design, but I have not noticed them.





Like the VO saddle, the Cardiff Cornwall features chromed rivets, side lacing and saddlebag loops. The width and shape of the Cardiff Cornwall saddle feels just as I remember the VO Model 3 - perfect for my sitbones. It needed no breaking in. Nothing hurts, the longest ride so far being 30 miles. The Soma Smoothie is set up more aggressively than the vintage touring bike I'd test ridden with the other saddle, with the handlebars 1" below saddle height. However, the Cardiff Cornwall does not feel too wide for the bike. The saddle feels great to ride on.







As far as the quality, look and feel of the leather, my impressions are the same as with the VO: cardboard-like to the touch, with a general sense that the materials - including the leather, the rivets and the rails - are not as high-end as what Brooks uses. Additionally, the green dye on the Cardiff has begun to rub off after some use. Good thing I wear black cycling shorts.




All things considered, my impression is that yes there is a difference in the quality of materials used in the Velo Orange and Cardiff saddles versus the equivalent Brooks models. However, the real consideration for me is how a saddle feels in action. While I have good luck with Brooks saddles on upright bikes, for some reason I have bad luck with them on roadbikes. On the other hand, the Velo Orange and Cardiff saddles work surprisingly well for me in that context. This, combined with the reasonable pricing, make them attractive alternatives to the other leather saddles out there. If you are having trouble with the fit of other saddles, these are certainly worth experimenting with. It is good to have options at different price points.

Bike on the T: a Mini Adventure

A couple of days ago I happened to visit a bike shop in downtown Boston and the owner had an interesting bicycle in the back - very unusual to see in the US. I commented on it, and he uttered this fateful reply: "Oh this thing? Take it, please!Get it out of here!" And he made me an offer I could not refuse - dared not refuse. Before I knew it, I was standing by the Boston Harbor with the bike, grinning like a madwoman at my unexpected acquisition.



But once the euphoria subsided, the reality of it hit. Missing a saddle, seatpost and front brake, the bike was not ridable and I lived 4 miles away. There was no way I was rolling it all the way home. It was time to try the dreaded "bike on the T." I had heard horror stories about it from others, but now I would find out for myself.





In Boston, bikes areallowed on the subwayon weekdays before 7am, between 10am and 4pm, and after 7pm. It was now 3pm, so I was just in the nick of time before the evening rush hour ban.I walked the bike to South Station and looked for an entrance that indicated the presence of an elevator. I could not find one, and rather than try every single entrance decided to carry the bike down the stairs. It was on the heavy side, but easy to hold by the top tube - overall, not too bad.





Once underground, I headed for the extra-wide handicapped entrance, slid my "Charlie card" along the electronic reader, and like magic I was in. The bike got a lot of looks from passers-by, and a couple of people asked me sympathetically whether my saddle had been stolen. The station was not too crowded, and rolling the bike along did not present any difficulties.





Knowing that a series of staircases awaited in order to reach the platform, this time I made it a point to look for an elevator. I found one pretty quickly.





It was a roomy elevator, with plenty of space for bikes, wheelchairs and baby strollers. I pressed the button that indicated the platform I needed to get to, then disembarked when the elevator stopped at that floor.





Immediately there was a sign for the platform, but then... more stairs despite having taken the elevator! It is possible that I did something wrong, but the elevator did indicate that this was the correct place to disembark. Confusing, though I was fine carrying the bike down some more stairs.





Finally I was at the platform, waitingwith a decent-sized crowd of othersfor the train to arrive. I began to strategise: I would try to enter so as to get in the corner of the car, where I could stay close to the door and have some space. As the train pulled up, I could see that some of the cars were emptier than others, and quickly walked toward one of those.





As planned, I was able to get into the corner of the car and stay close to the door. There was even an empty seat, and I positioned the bike in front of me at an angle, so that the people in the seats next to me could come and go without the bike blocking their way. The ride was bumpy, and I wedged the front wheel between my knees in addition to holding the bike, to keep it stable. The other passengers steered clear of the bike and did not bump it or brush up against it, which was nice (whenI mentioned this to the Co-Habitant later, he suggested they were probably afraid to get their clothes dirty - the bike looked filthy!). Once the train reached my station, I got up and rolled the bike backwards out of the train - not difficult as we were right by the door.





At the station, I decided not to even bother looking for an elevator and took the bike on a series of escalators.Then I rolled it home, which was a 12 minute walk.



Overall, I would describe my experience of taking a bike on the T in Boston as unproblematic. It is of course crucial to pay attention to the rules regarding which trains allow bikes and when, and to plan accordingly. If your bike is so heavy that you cannot carry it up and down stairs, I would also suggest looking at station maps beforehand to familiarise yourself with the locations of elevators; they are not always obvious. As the train arrives, keeping an eye on the cars and aiming for one of the emptier ones is a good idea, and looking for a spot in the corner of the car will ensure proximity to the doors. If you find that the car is getting crowded as your station nears, you could warn people that you are getting off at the next stop and will need to wheel your bike out. Other than that, I cannot really think of any additional advice.



In close to three years of cycling in Boston, this was my first time taking a bike on the subway and I am glad it went well. Now, to find a seatpost for this bike...