Honda: Bring Back the Element

So after driving my red Jeep Wrangler (1995-2006) as close to the ground as I safely could, I bought a 2006 Honda Element. 

My reasoning was this: I liked the height of the Wrangler. I felt that I needed something with cargo space to carry bikes around. I wanted something with short overall length so I could parallel park in Stamford easily. The two rear seats remove for a lot of cargo space, as you can see below.

Now I must explain something here: This is of course the red Peugeot I used in my National Bike Month Challenge. I rode it more than 112 miles (on trips I would have used to take the car, so this $20 garage sale bike paid for itself). As you can see I removed the DIYBIKING.COM cargo box and put better tires on it. It's making a final journey I will write about later - and for the NSA employees who are reading my blog - or my drafts, for that matter: I am not giving this bicycle to Edward Snowden. 

But back to the Element: It has waterproof floors which shrug off the mud after mountain biking. Four-wheel drive so I could go anywhere in the snow. And fairly fuel efficient for a four cylinder engine. And it looks different. My cycling friends may abhor SUVs, but this one is about as less evil as it gets.

But Honda has let me down by discontinuing the Element. 

Yes, the Honda Element is the Google Reader of cars…or the Arrested Development of SUVs: loved by few. Misunderstood by many. 

Honda, what are you thinking? I'm not going to buy one of those dull-looking CRVs or the Pilot when the reaper comes to collect my Element. Look: it was a good car. A great one, in fact. But you really messed up the marketing. 

Here's what I'm talking about: the commercials featured things like fun-looking Gen-Y people throwing frisbees through the open doors and so forth. Nobody does that. Nobody. Besides, with so many less-expensive choices and with kids carrying so much college debt and so forth, the Element was out of their price range. Now Honda could have had a commercial that featured, for instance, a triathlete from a Pacific Swim Bike Run spin class stowing their price carbon-fiber bike and their wetsuit in the back (remember: waterproof floor!) as they have their adventure. Hey, tri-shops could have sold these things on the side. 

So I'm hoping Honda will consider bringing the Element back and market it to cyclists. I know cars and the car culture does more harm than good, but if you must have a car, it should be an Element. That sounds like a good pull-quote for the brochure, doesn't it. 

Now if Honda moves forward and rights this wrong, they should consider borrowing my interior bike rack design and pay me royalties. They also need to address one other area of design fault I've found in the Element: the center console cup holder.

Here it is on my basement floor, but you know what a center console looks like sitting between the two front seats. The gross-looking spills are caused by either me or my passenger setting drinks in the holders, which are too low to reach easily when keeping one's eye on the road.  It also has a random cup holder in the back. You'd think it was for the rear seat passengers but the two 45 pound rear seats (which I almost never carry in the car) each have their own cup holders anyway. 

Honda: here's what you do:  A center console that is configurable in ways that cyclists would enjoy and appreciate. Here is a prototype of what I am offering, so get your royalty checkbook ready.

This is what I made: A durable piece of plywood covered by…as you can obviously see…surplus interlocking garage floor tiles. The crowning touch is that the opening for the parking brake handle is lined with a piece of scrap bicycle tube. Honda: you will have absolutely no trouble finding scrap bicycle tubes with which you can make this. All those crunchy-granola, Subaru-driving, meat-avoiding people should love that you're using actual recycled material in your (my) design. 

I also have raised the cup holders with the aid of a cheap one from Target (this is just a prototype, remember). The apparatus used in the raising were a few metal bits for a 1980s cell phone mount. I must have spent a half hour sitting in the driver's seat figuring out the optimal distance my arm could travel with a drink so I could lower it into the cup holder without looking to see where it was. It also features additional holders for drinks or bottles that can be moved wherever they are needed. 

It took a small eternity to make the bottom work in such a way the console would sit in the opening without moving around. But with a strategically placed hidden bungee cord, it fits in the spot well. 

Now this is a good configuration if you have a passenger who needs to step between the seats for whatever reason, since it's a nice solid surface to put your foot. 

However, there is also, among other configurations, a road trip configuration:

Here we go! It's a Green Guru insulated handlebar bag. It is attached to the passenger side seatbelt and a small aluminum strip keeps it in place if the driver or the passenger opens it up to get a cool drink. Yes, Honda: try for a partnership with Green Guru, which makes a number of cool bike bags and other accessories out of recycled material. It will go a long way towards better bicycle owner/automobile owner-relations.

So in conjunction with the bike rack design, I am hoping that putting these ideas forward will convince Honda executives to put down whatever it was they were smoking and bring the Element back. If you can find a more attractive actor to portray me, I'll even allow my likeness to appear in the commercials. I'll await your call to negotiate royalties. In the meantime, thanks for reading and thanks for riding. 

The Conclusion of the $20 Garage Sale Bike Challenge

As regular DIYBIKING.COM readers know, I gave myself a challenge for National Bike Month (which was, um, last month): ride a $20 bike bought at a garage sale a minimum of 112 miles on trips that I would only normally use the car. The 112 miles was calculated based on the fact my Honda Element costs about $0.18 per mile to run and there would be no pleasure rides involved at all. I even found a $1 bill in the street while riding the bike to the hardware store and, after careful consideration, did not apply that dollar (which wouldn't have been seen, let alone found, if I drove the car) to the $20 goal. 

Thanks to riding to and from work, the hardware store, and to Exhale Spa in Stamford so I could pleasantly torture my non-flexible joints in a yoga class, I managed to rack up a good number of miles. 

Now a week ago today, I wanted to use the bike for practical purposes but a certain annoying tropical storm named Andrea - we're 1/26th of the way through the alphabet in storm season and already having problems - kept me off the bike. 

So when it rains, I'm indoors a lot. And since the rain kept me indoors, I blame it for making me begin the excruciating process of reorganizing my workshop. I know I had done a few things around the edges not long ago, but after finally getting rid of the diner booth I just couldn't stop everything in the man cave/workshop combo from moving about and trying to adjust to this new environment. Projects I never would have considered doing before now seem possible because I think to myself: "Well, as long as the shop is a total disaster I'll just (fill in the blank." One of those 'blanks' was as follows:

This is the door in that leads into the landing that leads out of the garage. It's little more than a several rotting planks of wood with some insulation stapled on it. I decided to replace it, which meant the stuff stored in the landing had to move out into the rest of the basement. 

I know, it's pretty bad: pepper a couple of forgotten dead pets around and it could be a season finale of 'Hoarders' in the making. 

So that Friday was spent in the shop. By Saturday, it was beautiful out, but I had to go to Cranford, New Jersey as my artist wife was participating in the quick draw portion of the Paint the Town event there. I could have cheated and brought the Peugeot, but this was a pleasure ride, and that meant a pleasure bike: I took the Bike Friday and managed a 12 mile trip (and an unexpected stop at the very nice Jay's Cycle Center in Westfield) before returning to town in time to see my wife's painting on display with more than 70 others. 

The following day (this past Sunday) I woke up and realized that lousy weather forecast for the week meant I wouldn't be able to bike to work as often as I'd like, which meant there'd be at least one more weekend to go before reaching my 112 mile goal.

I didn't feel like taking a pleasure ride - especially since the shop was still an awful mess and I had a long Home Depot shopping list. Among the things I needed were door trim pieces for the new basement door, so I decided I couldn't take the bike for this trip.

But then I changed my mind.

Yes, I hitched the trailer - last seen promoting Person-to-Person's Stamford Take Off Your Clothes clothing drive - to the Peugeot and set off. It was a good eight miles to get to Home Depot in Norwalk. On the way there, the bike's odometer hit 100 miles. Because I reset the trip every time I use my Garmin (prior to the challenge) it was the first time I had seen that happen since I did a century in 2007.

After I arrived and locked the bike up, I pushed the shopping trolley around the store and was fortunately able to find what I needed quickly. The first find was the 4' metal thresholds I needed.  The 80" long door trim pieces came in a convenient, shrink-wrapped kit and I had to steady it as I headed to the register. As I was checking out, it was a little fun to see the clerk look from the bike helmet I was holding to the shopping trolley and back again.

Helmet. Trolley. Helmet. Trolley. Like he was watching a tennis match. 

"Did you bike here?"

I told him yes, and answered his follow up question ('How are you gonna balance all this stuff?') by telling him I had a trailer. 

I didn't just bring a trailer, mind you: I had duct tape and several bungee cords to secure my cargo, plus a big blue IKEA bag to put all of my small goods in. Several people in Ford Econoline vans and Chevy Suburbans stared as they rolled past. Probably mad they didn't think of this first. 

Once I had everything secured, I realized something was missing: when I was little and my dad and I would return from a lumberyard with stuff sticking out the back of the van, he'd attach a little flag to the end as a warning to other motorists. I didn't have a flag, but I did have a little red piece of Velcro that I use to keep the chain from staining my trouser cuff. Since I was wearing bike shorts that day, I didn't need it. 

Wary of the potential for embarrassment, I continuously looked over my shoulder as I headed back from Norwalk. I could feel the weight of the cargo on each uphill, but the bungee cords and duct tape held it all in place. Each mile fell away and I was glad I didn't take the car. 

Before I knew it I was pedaling up my street. When I stopped in front of my house I looked at the GPS.

I paid for the Peugeot! 112.5 miles with no signs of real wear. An average speed of 10.3 miles an hour (not ideal for the Pacific Swim Bike Run rides, but fine for practical trips) and more than 6,000 calories burned. 

Later that same day, I installed and painted the trim pieces, and I now officially had a useable exterior door in the basement. It opens at the turn of a knob. It closes as well. 

I was satisfied that the Peugeot finished the challenge in a blaze of glory. But the exercise got me to thinking that there are a lot more possibilities, a lot more chances, a lot more travel that can be done with a bike instead of a car.  This Peugeot challenge got my brain to think about it more, and whether you have a $20 garage sale bike or not, please try to train your brain to think about using the bike more often and the car less often. You'll be glad you did. Thanks for reading and thanks for riding.

So...How Did That National Bike Month Challenge Go?

So for National Bike Month 2013 - sponsored by The League of American Bicyclists - I gave myself a challenge: Ride a $20 garage sale bike 112 miles - which was the minimum distance it could pay for itself. After all, the whole point was to use the $20 bike (a red Peugeot) on every trip I would normally use the car. There would be no usage of the bike on pleasure trips and no excuses. No excuses at all. 

I failed miserably. But hear me out. 

First off, I didn't give myself the challenge until bike month was almost a third of the way over. That severely cut into my clock. There are only so many trips I can make that are practical and not padding. 

Secondly, there was a lot of crummy weather in May, and I tend not to ride in crummy weather. And due to a busy month at Grown-Up Land, I often had to take the slightly faster way to the office.

Too often, a forecast kept me in the car on the way to work but I'd simply mutter curses on the way home because rain never materialized. As I soon learned, I couldn't even trust the forecasts: the picture below is real, and I am really interested in knowing why an inquiry for 06902 came out different on an iPad versus my Droid Incredible 2.

But I rode the bike to work several times (7 miles round trip, and in downtown Stamford it is only about five minutes more to get to work to bike and a few minutes less time to get back home) and to Fairway Market grocery store. One day I pedaled to Dinosaur BBQ for a take-out order. It was one of the many times I wished Dinosaur BBQ and their addictive chipotle garlic wings were further from my house. 

Last week, as it was clear National Bike Month was coming to an end, I realized I had an easy way out: I needed to go to New York City (which I did and was excited to see the CitiBikeNYC plan in use) planned to ride to the Stamford train station instead of drive, which would have automatically meant I would have saved $8 by not parking - which would have gone a long way to pay for the Peugeot. But unfortunately, actual rain (not a questionable forecast, but large drops of water falling from the sky) kept me off the bike.

But on Friday, the last day of National Bike Month, I left the house early, wearing padded bike shorts, a loose jersey, No. 30 sunscreen, and a filled water bottle in the cage. My plan was to ride to Rowayton and pick up 16 screws and 16 washers from the Rowayton hardware store. It was to be the longest ride taken on the Peugeot, and if the mood struck I'd try for an errandpalooza to make up the miles. 

I learned something early on this ride. The $20 Peugeot is a pretty nice way to get around. 

The one piece of equipment I didn't like on this non-suspension bike is the seat, which is quite anvil-like. If I wanted to cheat on this challenge I would have put on the Cane Creek Thudbuster seat post or any seat that felt more comfortable. But for that day, the padded shorts really made a difference.

In fact, I moved rather gracefully the eight or so miles to the Rowayton Hardware store. 

Unfortunately, it was still closed. Unsure when it would open, I reached for my phone…and then realized I had left it on my desk at home. 

So I was on an old bike with no tools without any means of contact. But the risk was limited since I was in Rowayton, which has a lot of friendly people.  After all, the Rowayton Arts Center, located just across the street, was the gallery that had accepted my 'No Words' sculpture for the Expressions exhibit back in January. 

A few paces away is the Rowayton Market, which has outdoor seating in front that is reserved for cyclists smart enough to bring plenty of water and their own cell phones.

Wanting to be away from the sun, I bought a coffee at the little bar in the rear of the store and sat outside on the back porch, where the shade of the building kept me reasonably cool as I looked out onto Five Mile River. I had nothing else to do since I didn't have my phone.

After getting an answer from a friendly woman as to when the hardware store was to open, I returned to the front to stake it out. Looking around, I noticed a sign for the Rowayton Farmer's Market, which was to begin that afternoon.

The store opened promptly at nine, and I entered to get my 16 screws and 16 washers. Packed in the bike box, I swung up the street to check out a tag sale. Realizing that not having a phone would not be a good thing for errandpalooza, I returned home and checked the final milage. Ignore the elevation number: I wasn't in my underground lair and the aging Garmin must have been a bit confused. 

Inside my home, my wife playfully reprimanded me for forgetting my phone, but was happy to know the Rowayton Farmer's Market was open since, as it turns out, we needed to go to Rowayton to drop off two of her paintings for a Rowayton Arts Center show (through this Friday they are having their Paint Rowayton Plein Air Show at the Portside Gallery - and two of my wife's paintings are on display there).

Even though we were forced to use the car for that trip, the blow was cushioned by some really sweet desserts we bought at the With Love From the Cupboard tent. 

Before I knew it, the day was caught up in Automotive Errand Creep, and I was forced to call it a National Bike Month with 66.21 miles traveled. 

It was a bit disappointing that I couldn't make this a successful challenge, but as the weekend wore on, I realized I was quite happy with the rides I had taken (and just happier in general when I didn't take the car) and I knew this needed to go into overtime. So, today, in order to run another errand I had to put on the DIYBIKING.COM tow package.

Yes, Person-to-Person is having another clothing drive on June 8, and I just had to decorate the trailer with that important info before setting off.

This errand came in two phases: first I had to run a load of stuff to Goodwill - some of it from an Ugly Shop Reorg (more on that later) but most from the kitchen renovation nightmare. 

This afternoon I set off eyeing the sky warily. I could hear thunder in the distance and my neighborhood did get approximately 0.00004 inches of rain in a two-minute period earlier in the day, which made me nervous. Turned out, I was worried about nothing because I stayed dry all the way to Goodwill.

I also felt quite smug when I got there: the tiny lot was packed full and there were two cars just sitting there, blocking the entrance, waiting for a parking space to open up. The Stamford Goodwill, my readers, is never a problem if you bring your bike and tow package.

The second phase of the errand was a stop at Fairway, which, to my great annoyance, still hasn't replaced the bike rack in the spot next to the wine store. Still, with nothing in the trailer I arrived in record time.

In the past I have found that one can, in fact, carry an entire Thanksgiving dinner on a bike. But this time I only needed a few things. I even bought eggs. I wasn't even sure if I needed eggs. I just wanted to see if I could get them all back unbroken.

I did. And so can you. 

So the moral of the story is that, once again, I failed to go 112 practical miles in National Bike Month. But I picked up a lot of good habits along the way and am finding myself thinking even harder about ways to use the car less the other eleven months out of the year. Remember: if I can bring a dozen eggs back from the grocery store unbroken and bring a load of plates and glass bowls to Goodwill intact - you can too.   Thanks for reading and thanks for riding. 

Biking Nations: Back to London (which had CitibikeNYC first)

Yes, I was in the UK once again for both work and vacation. As I knew the work part would involve an array of suits and staying in small hotel rooms, I once again reluctantly left the Bike Friday behind. 

But if you are in London without a bike and from out of town, you are in luck because of the Barclay's bike system (sometimes called 'Boris bikes' - after the mayor of London, Boris Johnson - and I suppose that nickname is to Barclays Cycle Hire what 'Obamacare' is to the less-catchy 'Affordable Care Act.'). I used the system last year and realized that at 5 pounds for seven days of access was a steal at twice the price, so I wasn't at all annoyed to discover that the fee for a week's access is now 10 pounds. But trips under 30 minutes are still free and it is almost always easy to find a London Cycle Hire dock. 

It also puts more bikes on the road, which is a good thing. Clearly, there are so many cars on the road in the UK there isn't enough room for all of them.

That is what it looks like: I didn't witness the accident, but noticed the person who caused it was considerate enough to leave a note (and a headlight that looked like the car had gone cross-eyed).

But back to the bike share: as some of you know, New York is joining the forward-thinking cities like London, Paris, Boston, Washington, D.C. and Stamford (just threw that last one in to see if you were paying attention) and CitiBikeNYC Annual Members Preview Week starts today. Of course if you attended Bike Expo New York earlier this month, you'd have seen the very first 'Bloomberg Bike' that is to be part of the program.

Now these bikes are made by the same company that made the ones in London. I can testify to their quality and ruggedness but it is how the system works in real-world situations that's even more important. 

Here's my first real-world situation: After I ironed my suits for my Grown-Up Conference I found myself with a few hours of time on my hands, I left the hotel and, after fueling with a good lunch at Little India, took a bike from a Barclay's rack and pedaled to an interesting-sounding flea market: capitalcarboot.com, which helpfully noted that there was, in fact, a Barclay's station nearby.

So, if you are an enterprising business in New York City, you already have written where the closest Citi Bike station is on your 'directions' page on your web site.  

But back to London: I wore my own helmet (the helmet-mounted mirror placed on the opposite side to remind me to cycle to the left) and, after a few wrong turns (more on the ease of doing that in a moment) made it to the station - and the car boot sale - with decent time. 

By the time the car boot sale was over, there was one Barclay's bike left (a different one than I had ridden there with) and I was able to ride it back to the station at the hotel. It was the first practical trip I had made on a Barclay bike. But it was a short trip, so I began to wonder how it would do on a longer one. 

Two days later, at the end of a Grown-Up Conference Day, I got my answer as I decided on an ambitious plan: to ride from Earl's Court (the 10-pence coin) clear across London to the Cycle Hire dock near Angel (the 1-pound coin) where I would then walk a half-mile to meet an old friend and her partner for dinner at the Fig and Olive.

This map, published by forlessguides.com, was a great resource. If I wasn't handed this by the friendly woman behind the desk at the Radisson, I would still be looking for the Fig and Olive. 

However, the London For Less map - just like a lot of NYC maps - does have a fatal flaw: it has edges. And once you are off the edges, you don't know where you are. 

That happened to me, and it occurred a lot sooner than I thought. Brits didn't appear to have cyclists in mind when they laid out London back in the day, and the twists, turns, and spontaneous one-way streets thrown in as an afterthought put me off the map. The street signs are also posted on the sides of buildings, which often makes them difficult to read. 

At first I didn't mind, because I stumbled across a bike shop on my way. 

With no nearby docking station, I was able to wheel the bike inside and trusted a Cycle Surgery employee to mind it while I browsed (later in the trip I noticed a Barclay bike chained to a rail, so I guess if you don't mind leaving your bike for a moment with the 'meter running' you can bring your own lock). 

So, if you are an enterprising bike shop in New York City, you'll understand that people who ride these tough little bikes may be cyclists themselves, and they may welcome the chance to shop in your store if you are willing to let them wheel your rented ride inside.

But back to London: I thanked the employee, left the shop, and continued my journey…and became quite lost.  

I knew something was up when it had been nearly five minutes since my last Barclay bike sighting. Then when I crossed the Thames River (you'll notice by looking at the map again my ride to Angel shouldn't have taken me anywhere near it) I knew I was in trouble. 

Other than the risk of being miles off course and being late for a long-awaited dinner, it wasn't too bad. Sure, I was off the map, didn't have a GPS, didn't have a phone, was in an unfamiliar area and did't even know which way I was pointed, I was in an area where I spoke the language, and thankfully there were plenty of cyclists to patiently help me find my way back to Earl's Court. 

Incidentally, New Yorkers: brace for people on Citibikes stopping you, pointing to the water and asking 'What river is this?" It may be rare but I can see it happening. Still, be glad Manhattan is relatively easy to get around in. 

But back to London: I made my way across the river and managed to find Kensington Gardens. Now I originally planned to see if I could do this ride in 30 minute bursts between docking stations to keep the ride free.

However.

Yes, the Barclay's bike people thought quasi-cunning folks like myself would try such a thing. But it's alright: the rates are very low and I want to keep the system working so it will continue and more cities create bike shares (Hello again, Stamford. How's that traffic congestion working out for you?)

It was a long five minutes (I was genuinely worried at this point I'd be late for dinner and, with no cell phone, had no way to tell my friend I'd be late). But it gave me a chance to catch my breath and I pulled out another bike. I made it to the top of the park and pedaled ferociously along Bayswater Road, which turned into Oxford Street which turned into Park Place and then into Baltic Avenue - or something like that. Double-decker buses and cabs were all around me - but I was faster than most of them. 

I can't recall all of the street names, but I do recall saying things along the lines of 'why is this now a one way street?' and, after looking at the map and again at a street sign, asking 'how did I get all the way up here?'

Once again, New York City: you've got a lot going for you when Citibike deploys completely: Numbered streets that are often straight. Whomever planned London's streets may have had a pint too many. 

But back to London: With only a slight sense of direction, I pressed on. The horrid automobile traffic told me it would have been futile to give up and take a cab. And a cyclist I met at a red light near King's Cross station (the very station known by millions of Harry Potter fans as the location of Platform 9 and 3/4) assured me the Angel station was just a little ways up the hill.

I pushed the cranks - wishing I had thought to at least remove my tie before the start of my journey since London was uncharacteristically warm and non-rainy for an April afternoon - and eventually found a docking station near Angel just a few minutes shy of seven o'clock. I gave an appreciative parting glance at the station as I sprinted toward Upper Street.

It was further away than I realized - and I did, in fact, pass the docking station I had intended to use closer to the Angel station. And even though I was almost ten minutes later to dinner, I still made it before my friend's partner arrived a few moments later. I drank three glasses of water before the waitress at Fig & Olive offered to leave a pitcher. Flying thousands of miles and seeing someone you originally met in Keene, New Hampshire ten years earlier was absolutely priceless and made this a ride I wouldn't soon forget. 

The experience also made me realize once again that the Barclay bikes are the best way to get anywhere in London at anytime. And I have to tell you that sooner or later, the Citibike system in New York City, if properly managed, will eventually reach the point where no one will be able to imagine the city without it. And whether you ride or drive, that's a good thing. 

Thanks for reading and thanks for riding. 

Hard Questions for Today's Mayoral Candidates

I've been writing this blog for a couple of years now and have saved most of my serious, after-school-special-ish topics for my column in the Stamford Patch. But readers: please don't let the picture above fool you: we need to have a serious discussion.

Now I got to meet some amazing people at the Bike to Work Day event in Stamford; I got to see some folks from Danny's Cycles, Bike Walk CT, Domus' Future Five, and people who were stopping by to learn more about bike commuting - one of whom was a rather impressive woman who commutes more than 16 miles each way to get to work on a single speed 29er. 

Yeah, the list of excuses for not riding the two miles to your office has gotten shorter, but that's another topic. 

When I talked with these people, the places where we had ridden had always come up. Specific city names from all over the world were mentioned, and you could see someone's face light up at the talk of some and fall a little when speaking of others. 

It all falls back to how cities treat cyclists. We want paths set up to link cities and towns together, for sure, but a lot of bike-friendly infrastructure starts at the city and town level. And that means the leaders, or would-be leaders of a city need a willingness to commit to bike infrastructure. Right now, most Stamford bike lanes look like this:

This morning, I woke to some amazing news in the Hartford Courant: according to Census data, Stamford officially overtook Hartford in terms of population: Apparently, my city has 216 more people than Hartford.

Say it with me with Stephen Colbert intonation: "IN YOUR FACE, INSURANCE CAPITAL!"

But now let's look around Bull's Head, Ridgeway and a dozen other places in and around downtown Stamford where finding a parking spot is next to impossible. Let's look at the South End development - home of great places like Exhale Spa Stamford -  and wonder how cars will manage the bottlenecks under the railroad bridges. And, let's look at the barely-standing, often-full parking garage at the train station. Take all of this in and you'll realize we have to elect someone this fall who understand the problem and knows that making the city better for recreational and practical cyclists is part of the solution.

New York City has made some great strides with bike infrastructure under Mayor Bloomberg. Some of it is controversial and some of it doesn't work (often, unfortunately, because a few cyclists themselves don't obey the rules) but it's making the city easier to get around. The CitiBikeNYC bike share program is being rolled out to early adopters next week (that's a then-under construction docking station above…and if you look closely you'll see a pigmented section of the road where bicycle commuters can stand when waiting for a red light to change) and the city can go even further than it has - provided it elects a mayor who supports bike and pedestrian infrastructure.

In case you're wondering, I don't believe the candidate who sent a picture of his gentleman's area to a woman who is not his wife is that person. But we should ask him to clarify his position on bike infrastructure. In fact, we need to ask everyone running for office.

Stamford will pick a new mayor soon, and I plan to ask each candidate to bare all about how they feel about bicycle infrastructure. But a maturity-impaired guy who takes a picture of a toy bike stuffed in a pair of Jockey's stretched over a seat cushion at five in the morning can't do it alone. Ask with me. It's not about keeping Hartford out of the medals, but about keeping Stamford and other cities attractive places to work and live.  More than ever, thanks for reading and thanks for riding. 

Project in the Rearview Mirror!

The most miserable, aggravating and preposterous home improvement project I have ever embarked on - the kitchen - is over. 

People ask to see the 'before' and 'after' pictures of the kitchen. This is my favorite 'during' picture: When demolishing the old kitchen in January I found this under a cabinet that was probably installed twenty years ago - and I've lived in my house for eight.

You don't understand middle class disempowerment until you have used four rooms to make one cup of coffee. You don't understand how home improvement gets in your head until you get in bed at night (after doing a task perfectly) and you have a vision that you got something terribly wrong that jerks you awake before you even fall asleep. 

You also don't understand anger until you want to beat the living daylights out of the person who owned your house in the 1970s because he did not say the following: "No! Don't use staples to attach the subfloor! If a future homeowner wants to redo the kitchen he'll have to pull up hundreds of staples one by one."

So as the months slouched on, I had no workshop to speak about. That meant no working on bikes or anything for fun. My Saturdays didn't belong to me. I posted infrequently and was reduced to building a bike time capsule in a dead corner just so I'd have something to write about. 

But one day, for one project, I got to have the last (and only) laugh.

Here's what happened: I wanted a small TV for the kitchen but as I quickly learned, not everybody has the same definition of small. I wanted something smaller than an iPad that I could watch the news while making dinner. But Best Circuit, City Buy, and similar retail establishments only told me a 19" TV was all they could sell me. 

But finally, after weeks of searching, I found a 7" RCA at the Bull's Head Radio Shack that would fit in the tiny space underneath one of the upper cabinets. 

Unfortunately, I didn't have a good way to get it to stay there. Wall mount TV units are too big and too heavy, and even if they weren't the TV wasn't made to be mounted under a cabinet. 

Until I stepped over the trim pieces and toekicks littering my shop one day and came across this.

This is a bike rearview mirror; I think it is from Bell but there are a few companies that make similar models. I've always been a fan of the Third Eye helmet mounted rearview mirrors and never had a use for the handlebar ones. I must have taken this one off a bike and never gotten rid of it. 

I figured out what to do: I broke the unused mirror (being pack-rattish and non-superstitious is a good combination) and carefully centered it on the back of the TV, where I drilled two holes in the weedy plastic desk stand so I could insert a couple of small bolts.

I put the now mirrorless mirror on the two bolts and used two pairs of pliers to tighten the bolts. It couldn't hold much more than the weight of the little TV, I know, but all they needed to do was hold the weight of the little TV.

Then I brought it upstairs and carefully drilled a small hole in the underside of the little shelf I made under one of the cabinets that would hold the cable box. I inserted the end of the rearview mirror that usually attaches to the handlebars and awkwardly inserted and tightened the bolt. 

I took my hand away and the TV didn't fall. But it did swivel back and forth, which is what you want when you are mounting a TV in this kind of space.

If a person sits alone in the mini breakfast nook (the exact spot where mouse skeleton 1 of 2 was found) it doesn't matter what stool they are sitting in since they can move the TV to the left or the right. And I can point it straight back so I can see it while I'm standing at the stove. 

For months, I had wanted to put the kitchen project in the rearview mirror, but instead I put a rearview mirror in the kitchen. And the best part is nobody will even notice it unless I tell them it's there. Now I can weld, saw up the few old bike frames I collected over the winter, and fix bikes (the Peugeot I'm using for the National Bike Month Challenge hasn't been back to the shop since I fixed it, but there is 34.7 miles of 112.0 on it so far - and since the Metro North train collision promises to put more cars on the road I'll probably use it even more this week than I thought. Thanks for reading and thanks for riding.