Pedal Dexterity

Sub titled: Monkey Toes
Sub sub titled: Dwight Schrute and Jens Voigt Have Nothing on Me!

Riding with Chris is always a fun experience because at some point we usually end up in a fit of giggles. Christmas Eve was no exception.

Chris and I decided to head out to the Knight’s Ferry area to ride to Robert’s Ferry and back. It was going to be about 30-miles of rolling hills and little traffic. My drive to our meeting place worried me because the valley appeared to be covered in the dense tule fog that so often plagues this area. To my surprise and pleasure, the fog started to clear before I arrived in Knight’s Ferry and shortly after we began riding, the fog lifted completely. It was turning out to be a gorgeous day for a ride with perfect weather and fun company.

Due to a lack of riding (not to mention a lack of hill training), Chris and I tired quickly. I can’t speak for her, but eventually I warmed up and was feeling better. Of course, we stopped occasionally to take photos of the landscape, converse with cows, and strip off our various layers because of the surprisingly warm weather.

We eventually decided on a turn around point and made a brief stop to take some more photos. With a momentary lapse of judgment (hello? Rain + dirt = mud), I stepped off the road to get a better angle for my shot. Once I stepped back onto the road, I realized my mistake. The result: Mud in the cleats. I cleaned them out a bit before getting back on the bike and didn’t give it further thought until a while later when I decided to stop again. I was unable to unclip from the left side.

Herein lies the problem – despite being right handed, I always unclip from the left and put that foot down. I’ve had more than one cyclist comment on this so apparently the majority of people do it the other way around. With no other choice, I unclipped from the right and slowed down while repeating in my head Go right, go right. Unfortunately, my body didn’t listen. The moment I realized I was going to fall I thought Don’t put your hand down, it’s not that far. Better to fall to the left and not land on my derailleur and break a bone on my left than the right, correct? This time my body listened. Once on the ground I was able to pull my cleat from the pedal and get up with only damaged pride.

Now what? Like any normal cyclist with another 10 miles to ride, I checked my pedals, checked my cleats, and then got back on the bike. Silly me.

When I realized that I was unable to unclip from either side, Chris and I started to derive a plan so I could stop safely. We decided that the best bet would be for me to remove my foot from my shoe so I started to play with them to see if I could undo the shoe while riding. This proved to be more difficult than I originally imagined.

On to Plan B. Chris ended up riding ahead of me so she could catch me when I stopped. While she held onto me, I was able to remove my feet from the shoes. Once I was safely off the bike, but not out of danger due to an unusual number of bees, it was time to figure out how I’d ride the remaining 8 or so miles. Eventually, we decided that forcing my shoes off my pedals (it took the two of us putting a good amount of force on them) and riding back with no shoes would be the only option, regardless of how stupid I’d look or unsafe it’d be.

So that’s what I did. I curled my toes around the small surface of the pedals like a monkey and continued to ride in significant discomfort unable to get out of the saddle to pedal. I walked up hills, rode the flats, and coasted downhill. Not exactly the perfect ending to the ride.

It's as uncomfortable as it looks.  Photo by Chris.

A slight feeling of horror washes over me when I realize that this could have been any of my rides when I’m normally alone. What then? Surely, I’m not the only cyclist who has quite literally been unable to unclip from the pedals.  If it wasn't for Chris being there, I pretty much would have been out of luck.

Needless to say, this is one reason I always wear a helmet.

When "The Buddy System" Fails

I was in third grade the first time I went to a movie with a friend and no adult supervision. I remember two things about that day. The first being that we saw Annie. The second thing being that our mothers lectured us on sticking together and that meant if one of us had to use the bathroom during the movie then we both went.

We’re all familiar with “The Buddy System” since we’ve had it hammered into our heads since we were young. I’m pleased to announce that while I don’t need a friend, no matter how close of a friend, to accompany me to the bathroom anymore, I do find myself in situations where “The Buddy System” is recommended if not essential. Yes, twenty something years after my very first memory of using “The Buddy System” I’m still using it in ways.

However, what do we do when we don’t have a buddy to accompany us on a ride (or run, walk, hike, whatever activity floats your boat)? As a single woman living in a somewhat ghetto-ish city, I’ve given this a lot of thought. Safety is my number one priority when I’m out on a ride and because I have no friends who are roadies I ride solo 99% of the time. In fact, the only time I’m not alone is if I’m participating in a charity ride or if I’m mountain biking.

The obvious solution to said dilemma would be to join a club. However, as a person who is painfully shy this isn’t something I feel is an option. I’m also a little embarrassed about my sometimes questionable bike handling skills and my probable inability to maintain the same pace as a group of more seasoned riders.

That being said, I’ve come up with some tips/strategies that give me some peace of mind when out on the road.  These are things that for some reason didn't occur to me when I first started riding again last winter and if even one person can benefit, then this post is worth it.  They are above and beyond the obvious like knowing traffic laws, wearing a helmet, carrying water, and keeping your bike well maintained.

1. Carry a cell phone with phone numbers of friends who have already said they’d be willing to pick you up if you find yourself in the unfortunate situation of being stranded. Nothing ruins a good ride like having to walk 15 miles (or 24.14 km for the #LCC or those who otherwise use metric) home. Bonus if it’s a camera phone because then you can take pictures of interesting things you may see on your ride, just don’t do this when riding.

2. Know your bike and how to make basic repairs and adjustments such as fixing a dropped chain or a flat. Carry the necessary tools to do this such as spare tubes, patch kit, pump, levers, etc. Carry an allen wrench set for saddle or pedal adjustments even though you shouldn’t need it if your bike is properly fit in the first place, but I’m a fiddler. Last, but not least, I also carry pair of latex gloves because I hate getting chain grease on my fingers then on the bar tape or inside my riding gloves and ruining a good manicure. Again, nothing ruins a good ride like having to hoof it home or back to the car.

3. Don’t just carry identification – wear it. Many companies out there make medical identification bracelets, tags, etc. I wear a RoadID. The idea is that your bike, helmet, clothing, etc. might not make it to the emergency room, but an ID on your body will (and if your limbs aren’t making it to the ER, then not having and ID on you is the least of your worries). And hey, if it’s good enough for Levi Leipheimer, it’s good enough for me (see his right wrist... he's been seen "wearing it" because it's who he is).

Paul Mach and Levi Leipheimer at the Nevada City Classic in June 2009

4. Carry a small coin purse type thing with the following items: Driver’s license, or other photo ID for when you get pulled over for violating traffic laws that you studied but have chosen to ignore; Cash in case you find the need to stop at Starbucks, refuel at Chipotle, or visit your LBS for repairs; ATM card in case your find yourself in need of a larger sum of money (see previous comment re: stopping at LBS); and Health insurance card even though the information is on an ID worn on your body. I also keep my house key in this and it goes into my jersey pocket, not my bike’s saddlebag in case I get jumped by one of the ghetto-folk who keeps asking me what my bike cost and they steal my ride.

5. Know your limits. When planning a loop route, make sure you know you can do the distance and any climbing involved. If you’re doing an out and back, it’s much easier to turn around when you feel like you’re getting tired, but on a loop sometimes there is no way to take a shortcut.

6. Know the roads. Unless I’m cutting through a neighborhood on a whim, I stick to routes I know. If you’re considering a new route, take the time to drive it first. Are there bike lanes and if not, for how long? What is the condition of the pavement? Is there a lot of traffic, light traffic, or none at all? Take note of construction zones, speed limits, and the kind of vehicular traffic. Are there places to stop for water? Will you be in cell phone range? Could you give a friend directions to the location if you were to find yourself stranded? If it doesn’t look safe, you may want to find someplace else to ride.

No bike lane, little traffic, far from civilation, 13 miles from home... ironically, I dropped my chain about 50 yards ahead.

My basic point is that if you take measures to make yourself feel safer, you're more likely to get out and ride.  And as the great Eddy Merckx said, "Ride as much or as little, as long or as short as you feel.  But ride."

I should note that while I also ride a mountain bike I never go mountain biking alone. I prefer to keep to roads where there is some sort of traffic (“witnesses”) in case of an emergency ("eating asphault").

Now… where did I put that RoadID?