Lornie Jam

Like toe jam, but not as gross.


I woke up at 2pm today and decided to ride in to the office anyway.

Something I've discovered: when pedestrians cross the road, they always cross in a way that they would intersect my path if I don't slow down or swerve to avoid them.

Odd, that.

Also, the faster I go, the further I ride from the double yellow lines.

Anyway there was a honking big jam at Lornie Road. It was too hot to pull out a camera so I'll just lavish you with words instead: I hopped onto the pavement and rode out the jam.

Apparently some truck had broken down and hit some other car in the front, on the rightmost lane.

Shit happens. What is interesting though, is the truck needed towing. What kind of accident totals the engine block but only dents the bumper?

The bee's knees

Denise.

Also, the nephew.

Ok I am corny. Generations of my relatives already know that.

Listened to a radio programme on osteoarthritis on the way home (and beer round after-ride) and realised that I'm going to have to stop stomping on gears and start spinning.

Right knee has already given signs of stress over the past month.

I'm a stomper not a spinner.

Nevertheless it'll be a few more years before I really feel it.

But here. Say it with me.

"I told you so."

10 things I hate/love about commuting by bike

I hate:

10. People who are waiting for a cab at kerbside always seem to only raise their hands up to flag a cab when I'm passing by, requiring me to swerve.

9. Rubbish trucks, that like to drive up alongside me and then overtake, very slowly.

8. Rubbish juice.

7. Punctures.

6. Chainsuck.

5. Drivers who honk.

4. Drivers who don't signal their turns.

3. Drivers who turn into your path, knowing full well that you're going to have to slam on the brakes.

2. Drivers who flash their headlights at me.

1. Other cyclists who hog lanes.



I love:

10. Not having to squeeze onto a bus or train along with the entire world.

9. Getting to and from work on my own power. Freedom.

8. I get to work and home in the exact same amounts of time each way. Predictable.

7. Rain on the way home adds fun to the ride.

6. Saving money on the trains and buses that I don't take.

5. No need to join a gym.

4. Listening to music on the rides.

3. Beating traffic gridlocks.

2. Watching the sun set along Bukit Timah / Dunearn Road

1. Fresh air in the morning

Beast of Burden

No, I've not gotten around to buying a B.O.B. trailer yet. Although I certainly would like one some day.

I mean look at it. It has a rear shock!



As all who know my preoccupation with all things bouncy would know (hmmm...), that shock seals the deal for me. Imma gonna have one some day.


Anywhoo, brought my typewriter to work today.



The bike looks good with some weight on it.

Something I'd never say to the ladies.

Three pins

Worked from home, hence the lack of a post.

I just spent an hour changing my flat, and that includes practice with the other bike. Because the last time I had to, I spent 45 minutes changing the flat tire on my Mojo.











What I discovered today for the third time: changing the tire on a Shimano Shadow derailleur-equipped bike is a real bitch.

I doubt I've ever bonked on a ride before, but bonking when changing a flat tire?

3 times and counting.

I am physically inept. Or my eyes are gone. Or I no longer have the hand-eye coordination of a man in his 20s.

Pick one. I'll go with 1. It's less humiliating. But it's actually all of these.

Buy a pump, get a free puncture

As is the case when I bought my first frame pump, I had a flat on the trails nearly immediately. Pumps pay it forward I guess.

I'd noticed the tire was flat yesterday before I went out for a ride. I pumped it back up and it lasted through about 3 hours of riding.

This morning it was flat again, which means it's a slow leak. Visual inspection fails to find physical evidence of a breach in the tire walls, so patching this is going to have involve one of those soak in a basin operations.



New pump, new puncture. I'm feeling super lazy about fixing it, so I'll just replace the tube instead of finding the puncture. That can be for another day.

Bukit Timah's other trails

My secret riding spots. So far I've yet to see anyone else riding them.










Also, I decided to ride up Rifle Range Road. It's quite amazing that there are so many families out in the trails looking for durians. I saw a couple carrying a bunch of rambutans.

And it is too bad that some of the best trails around are not open to mountain bikes.

I was going to go further afield but my trip was cut short by plans for dinner. More trails and photos, next weekend.

My ride

I rode today, because I could not stand to stay awake otherwise.



Have you rode in Turf City?

There, many hidden trails lie.

Look where you're going

Macpherson Road, where my office is, has a lot of foreign talent. Most of them ride their bicycles to and fro - where from, and where to, I have no idea - along the main road. In fact when I used to work here about 5 years ago, I had once seen a Blangadeshi get knocked down on his bicycle.

Most of them like to ride against the flow of traffic. Sometimes I'm on the other end, and it always reminds me of KITT vs. Goliath or KITT facing off KARR. I don't have a Turbo Boost though, and my molecularly bonded shell is only good for fending off raindrops.

Bike related scenes in my book (#1)

"He dreamt of becoming a celebrated artist, being cheered as he rode his environmentally friendly bicycle to work at his lavishly appointed studio. People smiled and waved. Hot female drivers blew kisses at him adoringly through their windshields and pressed their breasts against their windows as he rode past them in between traffic gridlocks, while pedestrians tried to give him high fives as he rolled past them kerbside.

On these fantasy commutes, traffic lights turned green before he had time to pull on the brakes. Buses careened wildly into adjacent lanes to give him a wide berth. Motorcyclists flashed him the international sign of peace and victory as they zoomed past, and flipped the bird to everyone else that they left in their dust.

The Traffic Police, too, had gotten wind of his award-winning paintings depicting the nihilistic (yet seductive!) dangers of drinking and driving, and showed up now with a 16-strong motorcade escort. When he arrived at his studio, he was greeted by the popping of a dozen camera flashes, deafened by cooing spectators and immensely turned on by a troupe of sexy cheerleaders who announced his arrival with a cheer that had the words “Ike” and "take me” in it.

The cheer ended with a pyramid formation, and afterwards, the girl who had been at the very top (like the sparkling star on a Christmas tree) shyly asked for his autograph and then if she could take him out to dinner that night. She would pay. He would offer to go Dutch.

Still later, one of the guys from the cheerleading team would make a similarly indecent proposal. He would decline politely but graciously while chiding himself for being so damn attractive.

But first.

He had to finish the damn paintings. How the fuck do you make drinking and driving look dangerous, nihilistic AND yet seductive?

On canvas?”

In the Beginning, there was the Wheel.

The wheel began to turn, and then there were two.

We rode that, and saw that it was good. So we decided to write about it.


But first, we drank a lot of beer.


Here's to getting from Point A to Point B without bruising the wallet, and having fun in the process.

As much fun as is possible without getting naked, anyway.

Naked bike marathon, anyone?