You are Now Arriving at your Final Destination: Beer

I tend to be a bit cranky in the morning, at least enough-so that in full consciousness, I feel embarrassed by my slumber drunk rants and raves. Put it nicely, I was quite short with a friend when he excitedly called at 7:30 this past morning. To be fair, I had only acquired 3.5 hours of sleep, but to be equally fair, it was a magical day to be excited about: East End Brewery's Pale Ale Pedal!

The gist of this ride is quite simple. Show up, rain or shine (and lets be honest, this is Pittsburgh, so it will and did rain), bike to an unknown destination, and drink a free beer! Oh, and the leaders of the ride are towing the kegs!

So despite being an crank-ball in the morning, I was quickly placated (and then fueled) by the sound of bike bells, smells of beer, and view of hundreds of bikers showing up all for the sake of taking a ride.

So thanks East End Brewery for getting me up at 7:30 to bike and drink!

-The Velodict

Humidity Part 1

For the past 5 years I have been living an ignorant reality where humidity does not exist. Honestly, I really liked this reality. See, I happen to be a bit of a sweat-er, but in zero humidity, I dry fast, thereby allowing me to be around other human beings after biking.

Pittsburgh has crushed this reality. The stagnant air here leaves me feeling moist while standing still, and visibly disgusting while moving. I fear the summer, when I may actually look like I went swimming upon arriving anywhere. I can deal with most sweat-stains, except I have a feeling my bum on a leather saddle will yield some awkward butt patterns. Gross. Really Gross. Sorry to everyone in advance. I am just going to call it butt art. Sounds a little nicer.

ANYWAY, a friend told me it takes a few weeks to properly acclimate to the humidity, so I am leaving this an open-ended post. Part 2 coming soon.....


-The Velodict

Bike Light

So I finally got a new back light. This is good for everyone whose name is Gepetto, because now there will be no widdle-ing away at my nose on a nightly basis. Strange analysis you say? Allow me to explain!

I have been without back light for, lets just say too much time. Don't get me wrong, I am a big supporter of full on night gear, but Bloomfield/Garfield has a reputation for disappearing bike lights. (My one friend has a theory that people steal them to then SELL the batteries. I don't know if I buy this but ANYWAY...) I was stopped at night on the road by a concerned citizen, on average, once a week. The CC always gave me a nice little lecture on rear lights and visibility, to which I always responded, "My light was stolen the other night. I haven't gotten a new one yet" This was true... for a week or so. But after a month, my nose grew a little longer with every white lie. I knew all was bad when I heard my roommate give the exact same excuse while we were grocery shopping one night.

The only downside to being properly fitter for night-time biking is this: I officially am the caboose for all night ventures, as my roommate is still playing Pinocchio.

-The Velodict

I Tip My Helmet to You, Pittsburgh

Spent the past weekend in good ol' Philly, which will always feel a bit like home to me. I must say I was thoroughly impressed by the widespread bike culture there! Everyone, their grandma, and their grandma's Bichon Frise seems to cycle there. Seriously, for every sign post, there is locked up bike. I was suffering through some serious bike envy all weekend.

That being said, I have to give a wag of my finger to you Philly. Your bare heads and lack of helmets seriously disturbed me! How can so many hottie-puh-totties bike around without cranium love?

I was sharply reminded of why I love Pittsburgh: everyone here protects their goods and sports the helmet!

So I tip my helmet to you, Pittsburgh! Way to protect your sexiest assets!

Bikeshop

Welp, Pittsburgh officially has the coolest bikeshop....ever.

So in devoted laziness, I have been riding my trusty Surly with a sole break for the past month (not so trusty Oryx cantilever breaks. Don't ever buy them!) Needless to say, I have been able to make all required stops...except when it's raining out...or I'm on a really steep hill. I live on a really steep hill. I knew it was time to change out the breaks when my routine homecoming campaign consisted of coasting past my road, making a right into the next street down, and then turning around and biking back up to my street (yeah it got that bad).

I decided to get new breaks from this crusty old bike shop down the road from my house: Kranx. From the exterior, the place looks like it has been out of commission for about a decade, but inside a cyclists paradise awaits. Kranx stocks troves of new/new retro frames, wheels, seats, chains, well basically anything a bike shop would typically carry. And the creme on the berries: an entire room outfitted with tools and bike stands available to fix and tune for hours!

And that is what I did! You don't get much help/advice on fixing your bike, so be prepared to learn everything there is to know about the mechanics of a bike. Which is probably the coolest part about Kranx. A few hours there, and you will be stripped of your nincompoopsy and revel in divine self-cultivated cycling wisdom. Ahhhhh, them some sweet berries!

-The Velodict

MacGyver

I love being resourceful. There is nothing more satisfying than using the tools in the immediate surrounding to rig up little solutions to life. Cycling often presents opportunities to demonstrate the inner MacGyver (a show I've never actually seen, but now feel I should).

A few days ago my roomie and I were high on springtime, and decided to do our grocery shopping on bike. This is normally not a problem. I can't really afford more than will fit in my panniers, and so cycle-shopping typically balances my inner urges to buy unnecessary groceries.

While browsing the aisles (no harm in looking), I remembered that our house was down to one roll of TP. Excited with my efforts of pro-activism, (I can think of no better area to display pro-activism about than bathrooms) I grabbed the mega pack of Scott TP. Is it one t or two? The brand doesn't really matter. ANYWAY.

The roomie and I made our purchases and began stuffing them into the panniers. It quickly became apparent that the baby-elephant size package of TP was not going to fit in the saddle bags prompting operation MacGyver. We rounded up some extra plastic bags, and strapped the package onto the rear rack of my bike. I can only imagine how I looked cycling home, a block of TP weaving throughout the streets of Bloomfield.

Also: cool article. Take note Pittsburgh.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/03/18/most-new-yorkers-support-_n_837751.html

-The Velodict

My Own Slice of the Reef

No more Penn Avenue for me! That's right! No more over driven, potholed, mole-bumped satanic street biking for this chickadee! I was tipped off the other night about a much calmer option to my typical chaotic ride on Penn. My own little slice of the reef, if you will. Coral Street.

And things have been as calm as the waters over the Great Barrier ever since (this is where I assume, the waters over the Great Barrier Reef are calm. They could be their own little version of hell for all I know). The road is lined with uber nice brick houses, trees, roads as smooth as butta', and best of all, not a car in sight. So if you are sick of playing frogger on the highway to hell, please, come join me on my commute on Coral. Unless you are a driver. Then forget you ever read this message. What message you ask? Good question I say!

-The Velodict