"You're not biking there from here, are you?" - The Orlando Trip

People don't tend to associate Orlando, Florida with cycling. That part of the country may be known better for things like theme parks, golf, retiring, and buying a time share. It's never been a cycling destination and you've never, ever heard anyone say: “I just came back from a cycling vacation in Orlando.”

However.

I just came back from a cycling vacation in Orlando. My wife was attending a conference at the Ritz-Carlton Grande Lakes and thought it would be nice if I took a few days of vacation time so I could go with her and share the luxury. I agreed, and decided immediately to take my 1998 Bike Friday New World Tourist (which hasn't flown with me before) to check out the cycling scene in Orlando.

Unable to plan the trip properly, I didn't have a good look at the area until the day before the flight, when I noticed via satellite images that the hotel looked like it was on a highway. The name of the road the Ritz-Carlton Grande Lakes is on is the 'Central Florida Parkway' which sounds a little more intimidating, perhaps, than 'Maple Street.'

I decided not to let that bother me as we checked in. The lobby, the grounds and the room really packed the 'wow' factor as the place offers levels of luxury and amenities I'm just not used to – but quickly took advantage of.

 

Mindful of the professionalism of the hotel and the fact I didn't bring clothes that are considered 'resort casual' attire, I thought it would be wise to look my best each morning when I'd walk the bike through the lobby. So I took advantage of the shoe polisher sponge that came with the room. I was pleased with the results and figured I'd blend in with the resort casual crowd nicely.

Before leaving the room with my bike, I first did a little research by asking a friendly concierge what she knew about cycling in Orlando. She gave me an area map showing where some bike lanes were and suggested I should consider riding on the sidewalk when leaving the hotel. The nice woman who sold me my breakfast sandwich and coffee at Cafe Bodega (one of the many restaurants shared by the JW Marriott and Ritz-Carlton) unintentionally titled this post with her comment after I told her I planned to ride to the town of Winter Park. You see, my wife had coupons from Penzey's Spices that were about to expire, and we didn't have a chance to visit the location in Norwalk, Connecticut to use them. So since I wanted to ride that far north anyway, she gave me the coupons and told me to return to the Ritz-Carlton with spices.

It's as good a reason to ride in central Florida as any. 

As I ate my breakfast on the small balcony overlooking the lake and the golf course, I scoped out on the concierge map where I should ride, reasoning I'd buy a larger map from a gas station while on the road.

I dressed in my cycling clothes and gently walked the Bike Friday out of the hotel. To the credit of the friendly staff at the Ritz-Carlton Grande Lakes, not once did I get a 'oh-no-he's-not-really-keeping-a-bike-in-one-of-our-rooms,-is-he?' look. I always got a smile and “good morning” each day when I set off and at least one “how-was-your-ride?” each time I returned. Polishing my bike shoes must have worked, I thought.

After setting the bike GPS to zero, I set off through the drive of the hotel and quickly discovered the pretty concierge hadn't lied about the sidewalk.

Not very interested in riding on what looked like Interstate 95, I decided to take her advice and ride the sidewalk to the John Young Parkway, where I planned to cut down to Whisper Lakes Boulevard before turning north on South Orange Blossom Trail.

Now most of the roads I used were very wide and highway-like, and typical of many American cities bike lanes would appear and disappear frequently. But because there were usually multiple lanes going in one direction, cars had that much more room to give me when passing. Still, I was glad for my helmet rearview mirror and bright vest as I cut my way through Orlando.

 

When I turned right on Oak Ridge Road to get to South Orange Avenue, I passed the base camp – which has since moved – belonging to Michelle Parker's family. It's a breathlessly sensationalized missing-pretty-white-woman story everywhere in the country, but it's a local story in Orlando about a real person who vanished without a trace weeks ago – that's causing great pain for her family and friends. After meeting Michelle's mother, I thought about this story differently. And after passing the camp, I began noticing the missing person posters everywhere I went and hoped they were making a difference – and that she'd be found soon.

When I made it to South Orange Avenue, I again turned north passing numerous chain stores and strip malls. Mile after mile of them. There were so many I didn't take nearly as many photos per mile as I usually took on rides. Orlando isn't Lisbon, after all. It's mostly as flat as a billiard table so there were no vistas, but on the plus side I could really turn the cranks and cross off the miles. And when I saw something that was either interesting or was something I'd only see in Florida, I'd stop.

 

Eventually, I saw a retail establishment I wanted to visit: the Ragin Cajun Bike Shop.

I struck up a conversation with the owner upon noticing some of the most adorable bikes I had ever seen, including a road bike built for a five year old. If I thought I could fit it in my carry-on bag, I would have bought it to give to my cousin's son as a Christmas gift – in 2016.

 

One of the advantages of a store that carries an assortment of tiny bikes is they carry an assortment of tiny tires, namely 20 inch 100psi road tires - that would fit on the Bike Friday. Happy to run into a store owner that doesn't give me a bewildered look when I ask if they have small road tires in stock, I bought a pair from Ragin Cajun and lashed them to my pack.

I pressed on and eventually saw downtown Orlando on the horizon. Yes, the area is so flat it actually has a horizon.

While passing through town to get to Winter Park, I stopped to buy a map at a former gas station that had been converted into a sort of cigarette shop and garden tractor dealership. I was shown the maps, and I pulled a 'Orlando Cityscape' one off the mostly barren shelf. I held the folded map to my face and blew a thick layer of dust off it. This'll do, I thought.

After I paid for it I found the map was very similar to those cheesy tourist maps you find at motels. Neither the map nor the landmarks were drawn to scale, and I quickly discovered the map didn't have all of the roads listed on it. Still, I was able to find Mills Avenue and make my way north once again toward Winter Park.

When I made it to Park Avenue, I discovered the road was paved with bricks. It's pleasing to the eye, but it isn't what you want to see when you're on a roadbike with no suspension seatpost. There's a fortune – or at least millons of happy cyclists - waiting for the company who can do a fake brick wallpaper equivalent for streets.

Thankfully, the bricks weren't nearly as challenging as the cobblestones of Lisbon or the roads of Manhattan, so I was able to make it the rest of the way to Penzey's in relative comfort and in short order.

 

I locked the bike and headed inside. The spices I got (a new blend called 'Forward' as well as a pepper and a new cinnamon my wife wanted) mostly came in glass jars, which added more weight to my pack. I reasoned it would be a good time to fuel up for lunch, so I stopped at Pannullo's to eat. It was a sunny Florida day so I could park the bike right at the table where I could eat outside.

After eating a rather fine white bean and sausage soup, salad and fish sandwich, I got back on the bike on continued through Winter Park, which did have a degree of cuteness that I didn't find in Orlando, but since it was mostly populated by chain stores I can find at home I decided to head back.

I used the map to find an alternative route back to the hotel, and in doing so I finally found a vista from which I could take a photograph.

 

By the time I made it back to the Ritz-Carlton it was almost quarter to five and I had gone 58 miles – the longest ride I had taken in months and the longest ride I had ever taken on a bike that wasn't the recumbent. Too tired to contemplate a second trip to the lobby, I walked the bike right up to the main counter at Norman's to make a dinner reservation for my wife and I that evening before returning to the room.

The next morning, I looked out the window of our hotel room and briefly considered seeing what it would take to borrow a kayak to use on the lake...

...but I decided instead to bike south. Once again, I was presented with some mostly unremarkable landscape, save for Gatorland, which offers a zip line that carries passengers over alligators and crocodiles. I decided to save that for a future visit.

Less than 10 miles after leaving the hotel, I arrived in downtown Kissimmee, which has several independent shops including, but not limited to, Breck's Gourmet Cookies. They make a good oatmeal raisin.

 

I found it was very easy to leave the small downtown area and find myself near Lakefront Park. Still later, I came across some very interesting – and unafraid – birds.

 

After a lunch at Taqueria Tres Amigos on Broadway Avenue, I continued my aimless trip around Kissimmee (there's a nice old Dahon at one of the antique stores) before heading back to the hotel in the early afternoon. All told, the second day was about 40 miles.

On day three, I only had a couple of hours before we'd have to check out of our room and I was planning to meet my wife for lunch. Not wanting to head north or south (been there, done that) I ruled out east since I didn't want to go toward Disneyworld or the other theme parks. So I picked west.

It was not the best idea I ever had. About 100 miles I had covered in the Orlando area, but there was only one road where I truly didn't enjoy sharing the road with Sunshine State motorists: this one, Taft-Vineland Road. Peppered with warehouses, the road was narrow and filled with trucks. I didn't realize this until I was on it.

 

I have never been killed while riding a bike (not even once) and eager to continue my streak, I abandoned Taft-Vineland and found my way back to the Ritz-Carlton after seeing two more fearless birds – or they could have been the same ones – hanging out near Consulate Drive.

I made it back to the hotel with another 15 miles under my belt before hastily showering and packing my things. Thankfully, the tires I bought at Ragin Cajun fit in the bottom of my suitcase.

I checked the Bike Friday and most of the rest of our luggage with the bellman before heading to the pool to wait for my wife's conference to end. All in all, It was a very nice cycling vacation. I admit there's a reason you never hear anyone but me say “I just came back from a cycling vacation in Orlando” but it is flat, it is warm, it's filled with friendly people, and it does have a few inexpensive flights available to get you there. It also helps when you have the right accommodations. Additionally, there are a number of bicycle paths (some of which are rail trails far from the hotel I didn't have a chance to use) and surprisingly courteous drivers. But if you go, bring your helmet rearview mirror and your brightest jersey, don't rule out renting a car to start your ride away from Orlando – and don't forget to polish your bike shoes before leaving the hotel.

(Follow me on Twitter at @michaelknorris)

Making a Stand on Black Friday

I love the day after Thanksgiving. But I don't like Black Friday. Maybe because I don't understand the logic of losing three to six hours of sleep to save $20 on a product while inhaling the body odor of other sleep-deprived, ornery shoppers. I don't know what an hour of my time is worth, but it's worth more than anything I could do or buy at a mall before sunup.

If you were one of those individuals who spent this past Friday amongst the people who carry pepper spray with them when they shop for a flat screen TV, take note: you don't have to do it next year. Instead, you can do any number of things, such as going to Bluff Point State Park. That's where and when I took the picture above.

You also don't have to wait for Small Business Saturday to support a small business. Avoid the nightmarish universe of the big-box store and visit any number of small towns to check out independent shops, such as Niantic Bay Bicycles in Niantic, Connecticut. Run by a very nice husband and wife team, they have, among other cool things, a used Easy Racers tandem recumbent for sale. It didn't leave Niantic with me, but some might-be-useful-someday Yakima chainstraps and cycling socks did.

In addition to going on a peaceful bike ride and buying something at a small business, you can build something bike-related with a parent or relative on Black Friday the Day After Thanksgiving. It's probably far better together time than the line at the cash register in front of a national chain store. Case in point: soon after I got back from 11 blissful miles at Bluff Point, my dad told me he wanted a bike storage solution in his garage, which doubles as his workshop. He wanted something that would allow him to get to the bike easily, didn't involve lifting it and didn't involve leaning it against anything. If we could build something that involved using some of the scrap wood lying around – and in his shop, there's plenty of that – all the better.

It didn't take too long to come up with a solution. The vision was something that would hold the back wheel firmly in place, so to start we took the front wheel off his bike and set it on the workbench. Since the front wheel is the same size as the rear, it was the perfect stand-in to figure out exactly how far apart the pieces of wood needed to be so the wheel would eventually sit comfortably on the floor without rolling anywhere. My dad and I used two different sized pieces of wood to make this stand: a 2' length of 2X10 and several 2X3s of various lengths.

Once I figured out the lengths we needed, my dad cut them to the right size and we fitted them together. It helped to have some long clamps on hand to squeeze the pieces together so we could pound in the metal plates to make everything solid.

Once we had the base of the stand made, I placed the wheel inside (I did that all throughout the build to make sure it would still fit) and thought that the vertical part of the stand needed to cover as much of the back tire as possible. My dad had all of the metal braces we needed, but we also put some long screws in from the bottom to make everything as stiff as possible. Before long, we had this:

At least once during the build, I went around to where his bike was to make sure the rear rack wouldn't interfere with the design. The fears were unfounded, because it worked like a charm. All in all, it was a fun thing for us to do. So if you don't want to wait until the next Black Friday Day After Thanksgiving, you can go on a ride at Bluff Point State Park, support an unknown bike store or other small business, and build a bike stand with a family member anytime.

(Follow me on Twitter at @michaelknorris)

The DIYBIKING.COM Thanksgiving Dinner Challenge

On Thanksgiving morning, Pacific Swim Bike Run is co-sponsoring the city of Stamford's first 5k Turkey Trot, which is an organized 3-mile run starting from Fairway market on Canal Street at 8:00am. Participants are also encouraged to bring non-perishable foods – and hats and mittens - to donate to families in need. It sounds like a great event and a nice preemptive strike against the calories most of us are expected to ingest that day.

Reading about the Turkey Trot made me think of the link between turkeys and exercise. After all, the most common animal I see when cycling in Fairfield County – after birds, squirrels, chipmunks and dogs wearing sweaters – are turkeys.

I took a cell phone picture of this adorable family of mouth-watering turkeys a few months back when on a lunchtime ride on Wire Mill Road in Stamford. I've spotted roving gangs of them at the Talmadge Hill Metro North station in New Canaan. I saw a herd in a field when riding in rural Pennsylvania. So yes, I see them more on bike rides than I do on a dinner table.

If you're like me, the most calories you usually burn on Thanksgiving are when you dig a hole in your mashed potatoes to pour the gravy in. I know I can't do the Turkey Trot, but I still wanted to do something in the same spirit. Yes, Thanksgiving Day isn't usually associated with exercise, but neither are the days leading up to it. Most people, when shopping for Thanksgiving dinner, just drive to the grocery store, put the frozen turkey in the car trunk, and drive away.

So the question becomes: how does one make the activity of buying a turkey more physically taxing?

The answer, as you may have guessed: is not this.

Right, so what happened is I figured out how to get the trike out of the workshop: I first put in a wooden cargo platform and later removed the seat and carried it sideways up the basement stairs. When I put it back together, I lashed down a cooler. I even added an extra safety measure.

I was going to tell you that multicolored duct tape makes a great stocking stuffer, but I only believe in promoting one holiday at a time.

I wanted to write a post on a successful ride on the trike to the grocery store for Thanksgiving trappings and back again, but this is not that post. I was fine with the trike's instability. Fine with the stares from motorists. Fine with the creaks and mysterious wobble. I wasn't fine with having to put the chain back on every 1/10 of a mile, so after a half mile I did a defeated ride back. My wife asked what went wrong.

“It isn't built well,” I said morosely.

“But you built it.”

“Exactly.”

My wife assured me I'd find a way to fix it, but I had no interest in doing that today. I still wanted to do my Thanksgiving challenge, and as it happens, I still had an ace up my sleeve.

Now, as we learned from last week's episode, the bike trailer has proven itself to be more than capable at moving a couple of bicycles to Domus. I figured it would have no trouble handling a turkey, so I lashed the cooler to it (and left the orange triangle).

I couldn't ride my Dahon Matrix as fast as usual, but it still pulled the trailer well. I decided not to go to Fairway and instead headed up to Shop Rite on Hope Street for more of a challenge. After about five miles of avoiding curbs, storm drains and parked cars, I made it to my destination.

It felt strange putting my helmet in the front basket of the grocery trolley; I had to keep reminding myself that I had cargo capacity with the trailer.

So I raided the aisles for Thanksgiving supplies. Corn, gravy, green beans and a frozen 14 lb. Butterball because I like the fact they have the Butterball Turkey Talk-Line (1-800-288-8372). I also got some pumpkin pie filling and a pumpkin pie crust. I know they get a bad rap but instant potatoes are good. And, of course, I bought jellied cranberry sauce. It's the kind that looks like the can when you put it on the serving plate. I always associate the can-shaped sauce with Thanksgiving. You do too. Admit it.

Once I had a full Thanksgiving meal in the trolley I paid for it and left. The orange net I was using as the floor of the trailer looked like it was protesting, but it didn't break when I put everything in in the cooler.

Once I lashed everything back into place, I got on the bike and set off. I quickly discovered the turkey was having an effect on the bike's handling (I write a lot of sentences I don't often write since I started this blog) but it wasn't dangerous. The Matrix has excellent brakes and the motorists, mindful of the duct tape triangle, gave me a decent amount of space as I pedaled down Hope Street. I briefly thought about trying to get a donut at the Donut Delight drive through but the line of cars was too discouraging. I rode on.

But I didn't ride home. Instead, I rode here.

The Food Bank of Lower Fairfield County serves a pretty large area and is always looking for donations, so to keep with the spirit of the Turkey Trot I gave the contents of my cooler to the guys in the back who thanked me for my donation.

The thing is, I'm lucky enough to not have to cook Thanksgiving dinner this year. In fact, the whole reason I can't do the Turkey Trot is that I'm going to my aunt's house to join family. I'm thankful and appreciative she and my uncle are hosting and the bulk of the food prep isn't on my shoulders (I think I volunteered to bring cranberry sauce). So, as you can guess, I'm lucky in several ways.

I took the trailer and the empty cooler another 14 miles before arriving home, so all in all it was a good challenge. If you want to borrow it so you can bring food to your house or to the food bank, just let me know. If you plan to do the Turkey Trot, don't forget to have fun – and bring a donation.

 

(Follow me on Twitter at @michaelknorris)

Domus Bike Drive Update (or: yes, the trailer worked)

 

Just now I was able to deliver three bikes in only two trips to Domus for their used bike drive, which is going on today until 3:30 this afternoon. You can park your bike trailer (or car, if you prefer) on Frank Street near the entrance to the Trafigura Work & Learn Business Center, where you can bring the bikes in (and possibly meet some of the students who will ultimately work on them).

Now, the trailer.

I admit it wasn't the easiest mile and a half I've ever pedaled. I got the Big Fuji there first and I was feeling so confident I figured out how to get the Hurricane Irene bike and a Trek dirt bike to stay on the trailer at the same time. I did get some curious looks on both trips (I only wish I had time to make a bike drive sign for the sides of the trailer, but then again it's so windy today it's probably a good idea I didn't add to the wind resistance).

So, trailer or not, please bring your used bikes to Domus today, or reach out to them to learn how you can help. Remember: every bike you bring to Domus means more space at your house...for another bike. 

Speaking of another bike: Pacific Swim Bike Run in Stamford is having a big end-of-season sale this weekend. I think all I need is handlebar tape, but then again the sight of empty bike hooks in my workshop is rather unsettling. Maybe I'll bring the trailer along. 

Just in case.

(Follow me on Twitter at @michaelknorris)

Building a Bike Mover for the Domus Bike Drive

There's a school at 83 Lockwood Avenue in Stamford called Domus. Specializing in helping at-risk youth and their families, they have an employment program created with the Trafigura Foundation and The Workplace Inc. that teaches kids and young adults skills in repairing bikes – and the repaired bikes are given to disadvantaged kids. They're having a used bike drive this Friday. I think you see where I'm going with this.

Yes, my bike storage area is rather full and the time has come for me to pare down (though the DiamondSchwinn isn't going anywhere). Paring down is normally a dreadful idea, but since I know this can help Domus and their great program I'm happy to do so (if you need to pare down as well please contact Domus or drop your used bikes off at the school this Friday between 10:30am and 3:30pm).

So I need to bring three bikes to Domus, but I wanted to do it in a way that did not involve bringing my car. Now if you want to move one bike from one place to another, it's standard procedure to ride it. But if you want to move two bikes, you either have to use a car..or do this.

I see this happening from time to time. It's dangerous because the rider can't apply a brake or turn properly. But there has never been a solution to the two bikes/one rider problem. Until Now.

 

This, as you may have guessed, is the skeletal remains of a child's bike trailer that I bought at a tag sale in Greenwich in 2004 for $15. It could seat two children in E.T. quarantine tent-like comfort until I removed all of the fabric and most of the framework. I then added a section of plastic fence and tied that into place with several dozen wire ties to make a cargo trailer. I rarely use it, but when you need a trailer, you need a trailer.

I figured it only needed one simple change to turn it into a trailer that could move a bike: adding an unused Thule roof rack.

It didn't work. Since the bike was so unstable I removed the Thule and did this instead.

I had used my three Saris mounts for my custom Honda Element bike rack, but I had a couple of lockable mounts that are equally simple. With a steady drilling hand I just added a few holes in the bracket so I could bolt it to the tube. The bike stayed on, but since I wasn't using the Thule rack, there wasn't anything to keep the rear wheel in place.

After some rummaging, I found this.

After I realized the piece of scrap aluminum was too narrow to accommodate most mountain bike tires, I took two big Vice Grips and did this:

I wanted the aluminum bracket/rear wheel guide to stay snug on the trailer frame but be able to pivot depending on the wheelbase of whatever bike I'd be carrying. That meant I couldn't just bolt it on. I needed something else. I rummaged. I drank some coffee. I rummaged some more. Nothing leaped out of any of the 304 plastic drawers on the main workbench or anyplace else that would do what I wanted it to.

Then I looked up at the ceiling of my basement workshop and saw this:

Most people with basements have pipes running this way and that all along the floor joists that are attached there by metal clips. I don't recommend harvesting metal clips that are being used for, say, plumbing, but if there are useful things on your basement workshop ceiling that are currently not doing anything useful, break out the hammer and pliers.

That's what it took to get the clip off the joist. Once that was done I drilled holes in the scrap of aluminum and used two bolts to fasten it to the back of the bike trailer. I tested it with the Hurricane Irene Aftermath Bike first and found the tire fit well in the groove, but to keep it from bouncing around I added a little Velcro strap.

Then I got my biggest bike – the Fuji Gran Tourer, of course – and put it on the trailer to see if it would fit. I lashed the front wheel to the frame before shaking the bike and the trailer violently to make sure the bike would stay in place. I then took a step back to look at the finished product.

Now, unlike the Budget Supertrike (which is still confined to the shop) this trailer can be dismantled easily and stored easily. The front fork mount and the improvised rear wheel guide don't take up too much space so I can still use the trailer to move other things.

This trailer will make its debut on the streets of Stamford on Friday when I use it to donate bikes to Domus so kids can have their own Saved from the Scrapheap experience. If you have spare bikes lying around, please bring them to 83 Lockwood Avenue in Stamford on Friday. How you get them there is up to you.

(Follow me on Twitter at @michaelknorris)