Bike Nicer Seattle

Yesterday I had the opportunity to share my "big idea" for biking/transportation policy in Seattle at Cascade Bicycle Club's Connect Puget Sound Big Idea Festival.  The idea that I shared has been ruminating in my head for a while,  and the seed was actually planted three years ago when I first started riding bikes as an adult in Seattle.

To put it frankly, people just weren't very nice to each other on bicycles. The first time I got a flat tire, I struggled with it on the side of the road for nearly 20 minutes by myself to fix it. I finally gave up and walked my bike home. During those 20 minutes, at least 5 other people on bikes rode by me and none of them stopped to ask if I was alright. That isn't friendly cycling. 

My idea isn't revolutionary. It doesn't take a large budget. Or even a huge effort by any one person or group. It simply requires a bit of a mind shift by all of us.

I've linked to  my presentation below, and am more than willing to come talk to your cycling team, group,  workplace, school, whatever. But the gist of it is summarized below:

We need to bike more kindly. ALL OF US. We each bear the responsibility to create an intentional, welcoming, inclusive community to all people on two wheels, regardless of age, gender, race, type of bike, clothing style, apparent income level, biking style, or speed. 

It doesn't take much. Here are five easy ways you can do you part on your next ride:

1. Share the trails/roads in a friendly manner. Each ride isn't a race. Pass with kindness.
2. Say hi to each other. We're not isolated in metal boxes.
3. Talk to each other- warn of hazards/potholes, compliment on gear, etc.
4. Offer help to people who may need it. Wayfinding for those who look lost, people stopped with mechanical issues, etc.
5. Smile and remember why you're riding a bike. Everybody likes seeing happy people.

Here is the link to full presentation. Please be in touch if you have any questions. I'd love to talk more about this and how we can work together to change our bike culture together.

The Least I Could Do

At some point over the last few months, I've become the type of Seattlite who rides her bike to a regular yoga practice, regardless if it's pouring down rain, 30 degrees, or 9 o'clock at night. I'm solidly going on 2 months of this, so I think it's safe to say it's become a bit of a favorite after work habit. 

It's not a long ride, in fact, just a little more than half a mile and clocking in at 5 minutes each way. I've even forgotten my helmet on more than one occasion it's so short. But it's just enough of a ride to remind me every time I do it of a few things:

• I really truly love my bicycle. 
• I love riding a bike.
• I'm truly privileged to be able to ride a bike to yoga and come home a warm house, night after night.

This final point was driven home last night as I was coming down my hill into my alley. There was a man who I see often, struggling with an overloaded shopping cart full of his belongings to get up onto the curb cut. This is the same curb cut I needed to use, as the street down to my alley is a relic of old-Seattle with rutted cobblestones, not bike-friendly at all! 

Seeing that he was not going to make it up the curb cut anytime soon with his rickety shopping cart and wanting to get out of the driving rainstorm, I turned down an adjacent street to go the long way into my alley.As I pulled into my garage, shook off the rain from my raincape, and put my bike away, I couldn't get the man out of my thoughts. It was a miserable night outside. High 30s and absolutely pouring rain.

As many of you know, I'm an avid camper. I absolutely love getting out of town on my bicycle and setting up camp as often as possible. Before my biking days, I was a frequent car camper and still have lots of my old car camping equipment that goes unused.

Still shivering from my measly 5 minute ride home, I dug out my hardly-used car camping sleeping pad, a 3.5" self-inflating mat from REI. This mat is wonderful, but WAY too big to take bike camping. It's literally been sitting in my garage for 2 years. Knowing how comfortable this is (and how insulating), I went back outside and found the man inching his way down the steep incline with his cart.

I asked him "Do you need a sleeping pad?" He looked at me and said "That would be wonderful. Thank you." I wished him well. 

I have no idea where he slept last night but at least, I hope he slept a little bit better than in previous nights.

Stoked Spoke

Swift Industries hosts a three part route sharing series called Stoked Spoke, where people who have gone on rad bike camping adventures share their routes in 5 or 10 minute presentations. For their December night, I shared my solo tour around the Hood Canal. 

We ran into a number of technical difficulties throughout the night, so most of the time during my presentation, I ended up talking through my trip, without the aid of maps, photos, or visuals. Here is my presentation in full.  (PDF of the powerpoint.)

I think, with that, I'm done writing about my solo tour. Before I finish completely, I want to give some space to the lessons learned from my trip. Here are my top 7 lessons from my solo tour:

1. Don't give your map away on Day2. You might still need it.
2. Carry toilet paper & body wipes.
3. When all you have to do is ride a bike all day, you can go a lot further than you think.
4. American flag on the back on the bike. A+ would do again.
5. Eye of the Tiger is a great hill climbing song.
6. Anybody can go for a bike tour. Even if you don't know how to read a map when you start planning!
7. Camp shoes. Not just for camp. Sometimes you just don't want to be clipped in.

My Solo Tour Revisited-Planning is the hardest part

Sometime around early August, I decided that I was going to go on a long, multi-day bike tour. All of my trips up to this point had been single night trips with other people. The Bumbershoot lineup didn't excite me and since I was out of vacation time (because I'm still tied to the corporate man), the only time when I could feasibly do a 4 day/3 night tour would be Labor Day weekend.

This will likely turn into a multi-part post. Part 1, planning.

Planning

I had the following criteria for my trip:

• New campgrounds (for me)
• As bike friendly roads as possible
• Food & water stops along the way (didn't want to bring a filter)

With these in mind, I started scouting out possible route ideas. I started with the Adventure Cycling Association's maps, and quickly found the Washington Parks route. I learned that Metsker Map's in Pike Place Market sells these maps, and being a total visual/tactical person, I went on my lunch break to check them out in person. I look at things on a computer all day, and I knew that if/when this trip actually happened, I'd want a paper copy anyway.

Flash forward a few days to the map store. I wandered around lost/bewildered/confused forever, even after finding the maps that I think I needed. Turns out those 4th grade geography skills didn't transfer over to 29 year old Marley. I thought I knew how to read a map. Turns out, reading a map for bike riding/touring is WAY DIFFERENT than reading a map for driving a car!

Thankfully, I ride socially with some amazingly helpful people, and when I reached out for help in learning how to read a map and route plan, I was met with wonderful advice. One guy even went so far as to have a virtual Google teleconference with me, to teach me about topographic features, RideWithGPS features, and advanced route planning! What a guy! Some of this  advice was so helpful, it would be selfish of me to keep it all to myself. Here are some of the most helpful links they shared:

Route Planning in the Modern Age - I think I read this page 30 times before making my route.

Caltopo (Topography and Map Overlay)- I didn't use this one quite as much, but some people swear by it. 

Ride With GPS - Basically the best. You can set it to optimize for cycling, shows elevation gain, super easy to use.

Armed with a paper map of the Olympic Peninsula and a million links, I cleared my dining room table and pulled out my computer and paper notebook. Following the advice from the Oregon Guidebook, I outlined my broad planning outline and goals for my trip: 

• Leave on Friday, Return on Monday (4 days, 3 nights)
• 30-60 miles per day
• Utilize public campgrounds (no rouge camping for this girl, at least on this trip)
• Stay on roads as I'd be alone and wasn't feeling super confident in going back country for my first solo trip

With these in mind, I literally just starting routing my course. Finding a campground on the map, Googling the distance between them, writing them down, circling, highlighting. The first night of planning, I geeked out for almost 3 hours. By the time I called it a night, I had 2 campground options for night 1, 3 options for night 2, and 2 options for night 3. Nobody has ever accused me of not being prepared.

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My handy map of the Olympic Peninsula.

The next step was to map my intended route in RideWithGPS, to get an idea of distance and elevation. To be honest, I had done the first 55 miles of the route, so I was familiar with it. On that trip, however, I had gotten a ride back and didn't complete the return leg. Part of the motivation for the route of this trip was to ride the rest of the route that my friends had ridden in May, as they had all raved about how beautiful it was.  After putting it into RideWithGPS, I was pretty satisfied with it. Each day's distance looked totally do-able and the camping options looked great- a good mix of state  and national parks. With two weeks before the ride, I had plenty of time to plan food, finalize gear, and get ready.

I posted the route on the forum and didn't get much feedback. Maybe they knew something I didn't...but everything seemed ok according to all my research, so at this point, I was pretty set on my plan. 

Day 1: Ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge, 17 miles to Kitsap Memorial State Park

Day 2: Kitsap Memorial to Seal Rock or Dosewalips State Park

Day 3: Dosewalips to Twanoh State Park

Day 4: Twanoh to Bremerton Ferry & home

Totally reasonable mileage & elevation every day. Food stops along the route. Everything seemed perfect. Or so I thought....

Coming soon: Post 2, The Ride

(Spoiler alert: My tour only ended up being 3 days long, I got food poisoning and almost had another Oregon Outback shitstorm level emergency, and the roads I chose were not so bike friendly!)