Tag: riding

Conquer the Rain: The F Word

Rear fender & mud flap

They beat me to the ground, kicked me aside and called me a “wuss”, but inside I was warm and smiling.

As far back as I can remember there has been a stigma against certain bike parts. Bits of bicycle artillery that through poor development, genetic disposition, social stigma or just plain bad luck, have permanently slipped away from the realm of “real” cyclists. Bicycle indicator lights, rear view mirrors, bells, horns, even full panniers are seldom seen on bikes ridden by “serious” cyclists. To install such things would lose friends and possibly end if physical harm for offending those higher up the coolness ladder.

But are those things really so uncool?

Being stuck inside on rollers because of the rain is not fun and it’s been like that for a few weeks now. It’s been at least a few weeks since I managed a long ride and it’s depressing. But how can I get out in the rain?

Traditional Wisdom

Traditional answers to riding in the rain have proved lacking.

Just get wet is the first choice. You’re hard, just stick it out, be tough. Uh, sorry but suffering for nothing doesn’t make sense. Works fine if it’s balmy 30C outside, but not when it’s getting to the low teens. Staying dry is also helps keep warm.

So keep dry. A whole slew of waterproof gear is available, but with high-tech materials like GoreTex, you’re pushing big budgets for a full set of gear. But you’re still getting really wet, and simply holding the enemy at bay.

On the cheaper end, a 7-11 disposable raincoat actually does a pretty damn good job at keeping the upper body dry. Underneath that plastic bag almost any combination of layers of clothing will warm you up enough. But what about the legs?

Legs just aren’t designed for being wrapped in bags. Feet can handle bags, but they will wear through in less than an hour or two or solid riding in the wet and rain. Once the water seeps in, all is lost. They will not dry, even if you ride them in the glorious light of the warm sun for the rest of the day. And legs will get drenched, the splash from the front wheel spraying up covers the legs and deposits most of itself on your shoes. Same goes for the spray from the back wheel that will strike the seat tube and join forces with the evil front spray to thwart even your boldest efforts at keeping dry.

But what if you could keep the rain from reaching you in first place? What if instead of hand to hand combat against the foe, you could simply lift the drawbridge and leave him shouting at you in your safe haven? What if all our current schemes have been fatally flawed from the start?

The Hero

The hero of our story arrives. In gleaming armor he steps up to claim his honor.

But he needs some introduction, because he has been neglected and put aside for quite a while now. Now, bikes in Taiwan are used much more as commuting machines than back in South Africa, flat roads and close proximity to the places you need to go make it very easy to do a short ride instead of a long walk. They’re also very cheap and practical, keeping them well clear of the fads that sweep the world of fancy bikes.

Bells are cool, flat pedals are cool, single gears are cool, low prices are cool, racks are cool, front baskets are cool, upright riding positions are cool and so are… fenders.

Another angle

And as it turns out, the fender is the long-lost hero and the key hours of unadulterated pleasure in the rain. This unsung hero will stop almost all the water before it even gets to you. Clean little raindrops are an easy force to deal with when the onslaught of streams of muddy grime don’t even make their way into the picture.

So that is my next accessory. I’m gonna geekify my ride, add long mud flaps and just kit my beast out with the most killer rain-stopping accessories known to mankind. They’re still in the works, but when they’re done I’ll have a full report back. I’m looking forward to some seriously geeky fun.

I might never be cool again, but that’s okay, ’cause it will be a “happily ever after”.

[Here’s a nice link about fenders http://www.sheldonbrown.com/fenders.html. And a design for mudflaps linked to from there http://phred.org/~alex/bikes/fendermudflap.html ]

First image credit, Second image credit

Peace in the Dark

There’s something wonderfully refreshing about the dark.

I’m not talking that semi-dark in the city, where the distant glow of street lights are always visible, and the glaring stare of an LED is always close at hand.

Pitch black. Just you and the glow of the moon.

That’s how my ride on Tuesday morning was. It was dark, cold, wet, and fantastic.

Headed out just before midnight in a soft drizzle that would later turn into fully-fledged, taking a shower sized rain. I half-expected the rain to go away, that stupid hope that makes no sense and is simply used as a way of lying to myself when I don’t want to face facts. Surprise, surprise when it came pelting down and soaked through all my clothing. The only difference between the ride and going swimming being that faint warmth of stored up sweat soaking into my clothing, feebly trying to ward off the cold as the rain continually tried to push in the cold from the outside.

After an hour and a half of riding the remnants of the city started to fade away. Cars became fewer and those still on the road were clearly out with a purpose, because what other reason would there be for being out there. Street lights were spread further and further apart, their faint glow providing the guiding light to the next faint glow until, finally, the light from one was not even enough to light my way until the next.

And finally, no more.

Just me and the faint glow of my bike light. The bike light that is intended to alert other drivers to my presence, but not to cast a significant beam onto the road. In this case it was just enough to light up cateyes in the middle of the road and the warning beacons at the side for up to five meters ahead.

At first I was nervous and a little scared not having the usual lights to govern my way and warn me of anything coming up. It was like riding by touch, and although I didn’t want to touch anything my movements were governed by the proximity of those few indicators of going completely off track. Half the time was spent almost in the middle of the road, where the threat of running into a cateye beat the threat of running off the road.

The small beam of light was a tunnel trying weakly to break through the darkness ahead. And failing miserably. But it was enough and I adapted. Keeping straight with precious few visual queues, and using the little light available managed to guide myself and my bike along windy roads, long straights and finally over to the top of the mountain where the glow of the lights below were there to provide that sense of safety I’m so accustomed to.

Light.