Op De Hoek

The local bike shop. It’s either the one closest to you, or the one you like the most, but either way, it’s where you go when you don’t want to do it yourself or don’t want to shop online. In my case, it was the former—because as much as I enjoy working on bicycles, there are two things I absolutely do not enjoy: installing headsets and installing new tires, and the Soma needed some new shoes.

Granted, I’ve been told that until the tube starts to show, you will be “okay”, but I would rather not wait until that point. The cracks in the tread alone didn’t bother all that much, but any sidewall deterioration makes me uncomfortable. So, on the sunniest of summer days, I rode on  down the street, across the Dutch border, to the Fietservice Op De Hoek or “Bike Shop on the Corner”.

Here, there is the proprietor—a nice man with an un-ironic curled mustache- his garage full of tools, and a showroom filled with Dutch bikes, classic road bikes, and a couple of e-bikes for good measure. There is also the obligatory wall of saddles and miscellany, and a couple shelves of tires in every size.

The cream-colored Panaracers currently on  the Soma were the first pair of tires I had on it and so I’ve been riding on them regularly for the better part of 4 years. I don’t know whether or not that lines up with other people’s tire lifespan, but I’m sure everyone’s mileage varies dependent upon their usage. (I have original tires on the Univega in that States, and they’re still doing fine). I had originally picked them out because Panasonic tires are easy to come by in Japan and, I’ll admit, because of their color. (At the time I was inspired by the path racer bikes I had seen in pictures). 700 x 23C was pretty narrow for me, but I grew accustomed to it and soon that was all I knew.

Now, four years later, I had learned a bit more about what qualities make for a good all-around tire. Skinny was out, cream was still cool, but not a necessity, and softer rubber is a must for winter riding. I was also looking into puncture resistance, though in the time I was riding on the Panaracers, I never experienced a single flat. 

[Above is the last photo of the Soma with the Panaracers.]

So, after browsing the tire selection, I settled on a pair of Continental Touring Plus tires at 700 x 32C. In black. (Change is good, I told myself). I wanted something wider, anyway, and 32 seems like a pretty popular tire width for a mix of pavement and dirt/gravel roads. So I had the old tires removed and the new ones installed as I leisurely walked around the block, enjoying the sunshine.

Upon returning, the bike was all done.  So I paid the gentleman, said my thank-yous, and set off to test things out.

The first thing I noticed was sluggishness. Not strength-sappingly sluggish, but definitely noticeable, like how it feels to pedal after riding for several hours. I was so used to the 23s zipping along, the added width and Kevlar puncture protection kinda slow things down a bit. But—the tradeoff here is that the ride is smooth and cushier—it’s certainly not transferring as much of the road vibrations as the Panaracers did, which I appreiate. Once you get up to speed anyway, the extra rolling resistance is negligible, at least in my opinion.

I have to say my only complaint so far is rather petty, but the tire information is printed on the reflective sidewall portion, making it difficult to make out the recommended tire pressure. Everything else is what I expected from a heavier, touring-style tire, and I’m pleased with the performance so far, though I will be sure to report any other issues as the seasons progress and I ride on them some more.

Ultimately, every change made to the bike is a little step towards what I’d like it to be. I think it shows how versatile the Soma is, becoming this type of bike or that type of bike depending on the riding style I’ve adopted at the time. And a wearing through a set of tires sort of feels like a milestone for any bicycle owner, so I’m kind of proud of that too.

- Bicyclist Abroad

Flashback: Iraq

As you may or may not be aware, I was once employed by the Air Force to fix aircraft weapons systems and load bullets, bombs, and other fun stuff onto fighter jets. This job comes with lots of travel opportunities to exotic places such as [UNDISCLOSED LOCATION], [UNDISCLOSED LOCATION], and at the time, the Republic of Iraq. Now, I’m not even going to attempt to summarize eight years of a messy, complicated war—no matter what your political leanings are, I think everyone can agree that war is hell. I will, however, share a bit about my bicycling experience in Iraq: a harrowing tale of commuting through dust storms, around taxiing aircraft, and the occasional mortar shelling.

Let me preface this by saying that one deployment experience is not necessarily like any other; the Mrs. and I were fortunate enough to be deployed to Joint Base Balad-- which, with it’s Taco Bell and movie theater, was more akin to a town in west Texas than a war zone. There were many others who did not get to experience such niceties during their stints in the Middle East, and my hat goes off to them for enduring the real action that happens “outside the wire”.

The picturesque blast barriers or “T walls”

Inside Balad, there were several housing areas, a Base Exchange, a couple different dining facilities, and many other amenities. One of those amenities was the Iraqi Bazaar, or Hadji Shop in  G.I. vernacular.  There, local Iraqi vendors sold miscellaneous appliances, bootleg DVDs, souvenirs, and heavily refurbished bicycles. It was into the second week of the deployment that I went ahead and purchased my first “deployment bike”: a Specialized Hard Rock:

Note the masking tape grips and the mismatched tires- these bikes were beat-up, broken, put back together, and resold many times over.

The commute to work everyday consisted of riding on gravel (this is before it was a thing) to an Entry Control Point, or what you might refer to as a locked gate. From there is was a road, much like any other road, except the traffic was almost exclusively trucks and utility vehicles. So again, pretty much west Texas. I would take the road to another Entry Control Point, show the guard my credentials, and ride along the flightline to the hardened aircraft shelter we were working out of. Altogether, it was only about 20 minutes each way, depending on the headwind or occasional dust storm.

Eventually, a couple more guys got bikes and we made the commute together. Oh, and they gave us M-16s for some reason, so we had to bring those along, too:

 

There were a few days that the dust storms made commuting difficult. Thankfully, we were issued sun/sand goggles and those definitely helped visibility, though there wasn’t much to be done about the 40-50 knot winds. I remember yelling very loudly at the wind as I struggled to maintain enough momentum to keep the bike moving forward.

We were supposed to be wearing our IBA (Individual Body Armor) or have it within reach at all times, but having tried to pedal with a chest plate constantly pushing into my thighs, I will admit I did not do this for very long. One of the other riders who was very crafty had fabricated a trailer out of some spare bike parts and scrap wood just to tow his IBA (it was that heavy). The trailer also came in handy for getting boxes to the post office.

(I wasn’t wearing my helmet in this photo because the boonie hat looks more tacti-cool)

By the end of the deployment, there were around ten of us who rode bikes to and from work at any given time. The Specialized lasted me for about 5 months until the bearings in the bottom bracket and hubs finally succumbed to the ubiquitous grit and dust that made its way into everything. It was then that I swapped it for a “Fischer” brand aluminum bike (not to be confused with Gary Fisher, the MTB pioneer), which had a neat spring-loaded rack on the back and complete rubber grips, but was otherwise unremarkable. Both bikes are probably still in use there, as no component goes to waste.

I had submitted a short piece to the bike blog EcoVelo, who at the time was running a contest entitled “Why I Ride” that showcased various bike commuters and their thoughts on what it is about riding a bicycle that appeals to them. Since I was in Iraq at the time, my submission was about freedom—the freedom we were trying to bring to the Iraqi people, the freedom we enjoy every day as Americans, and the freedom that comes from riding a bicycle. Having experienced all three of those at the same time was something I’ll never forget.

- Bicyclist Abroad

...All I Need Is A Pair of Wheels

A wild Dahon appears!

 You can tell a lot about a town by looking at its Craigslist pages. If you're looking for a bicycle, as was I, in Biloxi, Mississippi, you'll find there aren't many to choose from. Is this because Mississippi is the most obese state in the America? Maybe. I like to think Biloxi was actually a cycling utopia, but then hurricane Katrina came through and washed away all the bicycles, leaving only heavier items behind like trucks, SUVs, and local residents. But we all know that's not true, and its not funny to make light of devastating natural disasters even though, let's be honest, this is a terrible location to build anything. Fortunately enough for me, of the two and a half bikes untouched by Katrina, one was a Dahon folding bike.

 Now, I've seen some folding bikes around Japan in the second-hand stores, and some people were riding them in Tokyo, but I never gave them much thought. Plenty of bloggers have written reviews of their Bromptons, Bike Fridays, and whatnot, but I'd only seen Dahons featured in Bicycle Times ads, never in real life. So, I figured if Bicycle Times gives their approval, why not. My only other option would have been renting a bike from the base Outdoor Recreation center, and those were all aluminum mountain bikes with knobby tires which I had no interest in whatsoever. The guy was asking $100, which, after price checking around the internet, seemed to be a fairly modest price. So I walked the hour or so to his house, handed over the cash, and walked away with the Dahon.

 Walked away? you say, incredulously. Why would I walk when I just bought the most efficient form of human-powered transportation? Well, I really only walked the next block over. I still had to get acquainted with how the thing even worked, and I didn't feel like standing in the guys driveway trying to figure out how to the ridiculously lengthy seat post or tweak the derailleur. I did, eventually, get on and ride it back to my room, the chain squealing in dire need of lube and the a strange wobble that, at the time, I accredited to it just being a folding bike. 

The wobble was not because of it being a folding bike. It was this:

Peekaboo!

 Yeah, that is the tube emerging through the tire. The sidewalls on the rear tire had practically disintegrated, and the wobble was the structural collapse of the tire itself as it supported my weight on it. Needless to say, I found myself in the market for a new 20" tire. The closest place to get one was the Base Exchange just down the street, which had two 20" BMX-style tires in stock. After a brief internal struggle over the legitimacy of Bell tires (and reading a couple Amazon reviews), I picked up the Bell Freestyle 20" with Kevlar. I don't know much about Kevlar other than you can make a canoe or a bullet-proof helmet with it, so hopefully that means this tire is at least kinda durable. Unfortunately, it was also a bit wider than the stock tires (20"x 2" vs. 20"x 1.5"), so I had to remove the rear fender for it to fit properly. After I got it installed, I took it for a spin and it seems to work just fine. In fact, having a wider tire in the rear softens the ride while allowing the front tire to remain nimble.

The true test of bicycle utility: providing the High Life.

  Even though the newer models have even more features, like dynamo lights and a tire patch kit in the handlebars, this one does have a couple, such as an integrated floor pump in the seat tube and some proprietary bungee system on the rear rack. The best part of course, is this:

 All in all, I kinda like having a folding bike. It doesn't have the same elegance of a sleek, normal-sized bicycle, but it does have its own utilitarian appeal. It also can fit in a suitcase, which will be important when it's time to say goodbye to ole Mississippi, a land where maybe the bicycle is just misunderstood. 

- Bicyclist Abroad Domestic