I ran across this sweet new form of bike rack yesterday in Palo Alto.

a nice rack

I really, really like the concept – not because it’s that much better from a utility standpoint (although that half-roof is a nice touch). It’s awesome because it takes the bicycle from something pushed to the side and in the way, to something that is the center of attention – on display, worthy of celebration. The mere presence of this rack is one big advertisement: “ride your bike!”

Learn more about these awesome racks at BikeArc.com.

At the Caltrain Joint Powers Board meeting today, Caltrain officially adopted its brand new Bicycle Access and Parking Plan.  That’s nice, I’m sure the <1% of Caltrain customers that park a bike at a station are stoked.  But the rest of us have reason to celebrate too!

Caltrain Executive Director Mike Scanlon announced that the Caltrain staff is, as of today, commencing a study to look into expanding/improving bicycle conditions on board. Specifically, he mentioned:

  • possibly removing some seats to provide more space for bicycles
  • streamlining the boarding/disembarking procedures for bicycles
  • improving the on board storage of bicycles on the train
  • providing information about bike space left on each train in advance of arrival

among other good ideas that I don’t remember.  In addition, nearly everyone on the board also took the time to speak favorably about improving conditions for bikes on board, right now, in the short term.  The several dozen public speakers were also overwhelmingly appreciative and hopeful that Caltrain is now starting to directly address the real problem – the currently dysfunctional state of bikes on board Caltrain.

In the bigger picture, this more than awesome.  Caltrain heard our comments, saw the 2.6k+ signatures the SFBC collected and dropped in front of the board, and is listening!  I’m sure this isn’t going to be the silver bullet that fixes all the bike+Caltrain problems, but this is certainly a step in the right direction.

Update:

The Chronicle has now published a story on this for tomorrow’s paper.

iceland highway to bluffs

Iceland isn’t much for paved roads. Past about 100km south of Reykjavík, there is a whole one paved road for the next ~500km. Then that too turns into gravel. If you were leave that one paved road and head straight north cross-country across the icecap(s), you would not hit another paved road until you had crossed the entire island and were sitting on the north coast.

Because of this, most people cycle Iceland on mountain bikes, or at least road bikes with urban or mountain tires on there. However, if you’re a Roadie and you kinda just threw your bike in a box the night before your flight, you might have racing tires on there. This means you’re sticking to the paved road. And thus, you’ll see most the same raw, stark, strong, breathtaking sights pictured here.

iceland highway to glaciers

From Reykjavík I headed to the northeast to the Althing, following this guide (search for ‘In and out of Reykjavik’) to get out of town. The Althing’s big claim to fame is that was the world’s first democratic parliament – 930AD, a bunch of Icelandic Vikings. As historical sites in Iceland go, this is the big one. The Icelandic people pull most of their proud self-identity from their Viking ancestry, even if it has been shown that genetically that they’re also Scottish and Irish. Even if not completely in body, at least in mind, culture, language and spirit, they are the Viking people.

Modern Icelanders have marked their best-guess of where the Althing was held with an Icelandic flag.

icelandic flag marking the spot of the althing

Against these cliffs, the speaker’s voice would resonate and project out to the envoys that came from across the island.

cliffs behind the althing

From above the cliffs of the Althing:

from above the althing's cliffs

The Althing was held at the head of lake Thingvallavatn.

lake Thingvallavatn

my bike, at the althing

From the Althing, I cut down to Selfoss. The road was completely empty for the first hour or so… beyond the half dozen vehicles or so that roared by, I saw no sign nor heard no sound of mankind beyond the growling of my tires spinning swiftly on the worn pavement below. Zen factor: extremely high.

Cycling from Selfoss down towards Vík (at the southern tip), your trip is dominated by the approaching Icelandic bluffs.

icelandic bluffs still far away

icelandic bluffs up close

an icelandic farm with icelandic bluffs behind it

As they approach, you’ll notice thin white lines cutting down from the top to the flats below. Those are waterfalls.

an icelandic waterfall from not close

an icelandic waterfall from not far

a wide and famous icelandic waterfall

a random icelandic farm and waterfall

Heading around Vík up toward Skaftafell National Park and the huge Vatnajökull Icecap, the grasslands move away. You begin cutting across huge wastelands, created by the icecap dumping rocky sediment down over and over for a few millennia.

icelandic wasteland

icelandic wasteland from the vantage of the bolti guesthouse

The glaciers coming down off the icecaps are intense. I’ve seen glaciers before in California and Canada, but this was something else.

icelandic glacier over a pond

The largest dump of the Vatnajökull actually makes it all the way out to the sea, throwing small icebergs out into the Atlantic where they quickly melt. You get to ride across a steel bridge with icebergs underneath. What is this, Narnia?

icebergs floating out into the ocean, in iceland

icelandic icebergs dumping out

Having a waffle next to a glacier and a few icebergs. That was one damn good waffle.

gotta love it

As you approach Höfn, the wasteland changes back over to farmland, still backed by glaciers coming down from the icecap.

icelandic farm and some glaciers hanging out

Unfortunately, I (actually, more like Stanford to pass the buck) timed my trip to miss summer by about a week. I got rained on everyday and faced strong headwinds about half the time. As the storm got worse, I bunkered down in Höfn for a few days to wait it out. This is the best (and coincidentally, the only) coffee shop in Höfn. Free wifi included! Highly recommended.

kaffihornid, the best (uh, only) coffee shop in 200km radius

After three days of waiting, the weather prediction was ‘bad’ for the next five… so I bailed. Back to Reykjavík. As a student, my flight on Eagle Air was just under 10k Krona (~100 USD), which is like 10% more expensive than the bus and about 8 times faster. They are bike-friendly… no extra charge if you’re under 20 kilos.

Hello, small plane flying in bad weather.

eagle air small plane

I spent several more days (and nights – great nightlife, no need to sleep) in Reykjavík bouncing around. They have a nice network of separated bike trails that rings the city several times over.

photo of bike map of reykjavik

Finally, I rode out to the international airport in Keflavík for a flight to Berlin via Iceland Express – also relatively bike-friendly. No bike box or bag required. Once you get out of Reykjavík, the ride to the airport is on the freeway shoulder. The entrances/exits are a little intimidating but they’re pretty empty of traffic cause everyone’s going to the airport. It’s really a pretty fast and efficient ride. When I first arrived in Iceland, I didn’t ride from Keflavík to Reykjavík… but if I do it again, I will. It’s a fat 10 foot shoulder the whole way. Pray for tailwinds!

This is the first of a few posts I’m going to regurgitate about cycling in Iceland. This post is focused primarily on the technical details that make or break a bike tour, posts to follow will be more about Iceland with pretty pictures, etc.

awesome road for biking in iceland

Top 10 things to consider when planning your cycling trip across southern Iceland:

  1. The weather.
  2. The weather.
  3. The weather.
  4. Your tires. Are you planning to head off the ring road at all, or continue past Höfn? (as of 2008) Then you need something that can handle gravel roads. 35mm and up, I’d recommend. If you stick to the paved part of the ring road, I’d recommend 28mm and up. (I did it in 23mm, and never felt good about my contact with the road. Averaged one flat per day.)

    The roads wear down differently in Iceland (compared to California). It looks like their asphalt mixture is higher in gravel and lower in tar. In any case, rather than potholes or seams in the road appearing, it turns into a bed a sharp rocks. Works great if your tires are much bigger than the rocks. Not so awesome if they’re about the same width. Like I said, I averaged one flat per day… some of those were tire slashings.

    little sharp rocks = road

  5. The weather.
  6. Feeding yourself. It’s challenging to find any food for parts of the ride. There are 50km stretches with no settlement whatsoever, let alone food. When you do find food it’s generally a convenience gas station store. Don’t expect to find any power bars here. But snickers, granola and trailmix can go along way! Complex carbohydrates and protein are your friend, excessive fat and grease, not so much.

    hum, grease and protein or grease and grease?

  7. The weather.
  8. Sleeping – every community, if it has a gas station, also has a campsite and a hostel. The hostels generally expect you to supply your own sleeping bag. The campsites, which are generally right next to the hostel, are very nice and usually include all the amenities (like a hot, clean shower) that the hostels have, minus the French dude who snores a whole bunch, and his French friends who snore a lot too. (nothing against the French here, I swear)
  9. Uh gee, the weather?
  10. Bike tools and parts. There is one bike shop south of Reykjavík, in Selfoss, and it carries a very limited selection of parts. So if you don’t want a broken chain to turn your tour into a different type of adventure, you need to carry a spare chain and chain tool. Same with a broken spoke. Same with a slashed tire. Etc, etc.

    bike all ready to rumble across iceland

Bam, end of top 10. Notice ‘traffic’ didn’t make the cut. Not even close. Once you get out of Reykjavík’s urban area, this is a complete non-issue. Iceland drivers drive fast, and are not very bike-savy, but they’re aren’t all that many of them to worry about!

‘Mountains’ or ‘hills’ didn’t make the cut either. There are a few steep grades (like 12%). But the highest paved pass in all of Iceland is only some 600m or so. By California status, that would be a ‘hill’. I didn’t run across any climbs taller than ~200m.

Now, let’s talk a little more about that weather thing. As a cyclist in Iceland, there are three important parts of weather you care about:

  • Wind: The wind is always blowing in Iceland. The question is, what direction? And how hard… hard enough to push you across the lane/to a stop? Or just an annoyance when you’re fiddling with the map?
  • Rain: Nearly every day in Iceland is at least partly cloudy. Any cloud may dump a short load of rain as it blows quickly by. A good day is no, or almost no rain. A average day is scattered rain. A crappy day is sheets of rain, coming down all day. You are soaked in minutes.

    I got nailed by this soak-you-to-the-bone storm about 5 min after this picture was taken.

    man versus nature

  • Temperature: Comparatively, this isn’t such a big deal. But Iceland in September does hit a very key spot on the thermometer for cycling. In my experience, if it’s above about 15C (~60F) while cycling, it’s hard not to be warm enough… your body is just generating so much heat from the energy you’re exerting. And below about 10C (~50F) it’s very hard to not be cold. The wind chill from your movement through the air just sucks your heat away. Southern Iceland in September is playing around in this no-mans land… I had morning temperatures as low as 8C, and daytime ones as high as 14C.

This is your new best friend: http://en.vedur.is That’s the best weather resource out there for Iceland. Problem is, its confidence interval is about +/- 1, on a scale of three. So, if it says good, that means ok or good. Bad means ok or bad. And a prediction of ok means nothing. And… of course, that’s the usual prediction. As one store clerk put it when I asked her how the weather was supposed to be the next day – “oh, more Iceland!”. Yup. All righty then.

I don’t want to give the impression that cycling Iceland is all pain. But compared to other places I’ve toured (California, Holland) Iceland is much more challenging on the ‘basic survival’ level. Just don’t take it lightly, and come prepared!

More fun picture posts coming. Stay tunned.

Not that exploring Reykjavík by bike is really that different than doing it by car or on foot/bus… but it is preferable to some old school transport modes:

Reykjavík viking boat

Greater Reykjavík holds only about 200k residents (~2/3 of Iceland’s total population), but the city puts on a show of more than three times that, by US standards. Commerce is concentrated in the downtown core, which, along with pretty much the rest of Iceland, is under seemingly continuous construction. It’s difficult to get an overview shot of downtown, but this is from one of the parks on one of the surrounding hills, looking west here.

Reykjavík skyline attempt

Everything in Iceland is extremely clean, functional, precise, well-maintained, quality, clear, ridiculously safe (even the police, of which you will not see any, do not carry guns) – if you’re OCD, you will find peace here. This is all by US standards. In one week of wandering I have yet to come across a dirty bathroom, a door that doesn’t quite fit, a resentful cashier, or even moldy bread. And I’ve been staying in the cheapest places in the country – camping, hostels and guesthouses. As far as I can tell, there is no (like, zero) pavement in Iceland that is as bad as San Francisco’s average street. And I’ve ridden over some 500 miles of it – and I’m not exaggerating. That ‘higher standard of living’ thing – it really shows.

One of the dominating features of Reykjavík’s skyline is this huge church, the Hallgrímskirkja. Which, of course, was under (re)construction when I was there.

Hallgrímskirkja

Hallgrímskirkja inside

Appearently that statue out in front was a gift from ‘The People of the USA’ to those of Iceland in 1930, in celebration of the 1000 year anniversary of the world’s oldest parliamentary democracy. Go us! Kinda like the Statue of Liberty, just more, well, how to put this nicely… economical.

Speaking of Americans, aside from those on my flight in from San Francisco via Minneapolis, I neither met nor overheard any American accents during my two days in Reykjavík. The closest I found was Montreal. Which, as anyone from the Heartland will tell you, is a long, long way from American.

That’s not to say you can’t get by with English. You are 100% fully functional with English here – if you manage to find an Icelander that isn’t fluent in English, then they’re not actually an Icelander… they’re a French tourist or something.

Reykjavík’s downtown has European-style narrow streets, with a streetwall of 3-5 stories. Aside from the expressways, roads and streets do not have shoulders – rather a sharp curb to mark the end of the street and the beginning of the not-street. Very pedestrian friendly, if not so much for bikes. All the crosswalks are raised to the level of the ’sidewalk’ (which, outside the downtown, is generally a completely separated paved path, more like the American idea of a ‘multi-use path’ – bikes are legal). This isn’t a Reykjavík thing though – it’s an Iceland thing. You’ll find this even in little communities of a few hundred people hundreds of km from anything bigger – the crosswalks are raised and made of brick. What, building for people not cars? Silly hippies.

Reykjavík street

another Reykjavík street

And it’s true – most everything in Reykjavík (and Iceland in general) is expensive. I paid 900 Krona for a beer with dinner in Reykjavík – about 10 USD. In general, expect to pay about twice as much as in the US. The big exception: budget sleeping. Just like seemingly every single community over zero residents, Reykjavík has a campsite (in town) and a hostel. The campsite will run you under 10 USD, and a bed in the hostel (bring your own sleeping bag!) will run you 15-20 USD. I stayed in the campsite:

Reykjavík campsite

Finally, why on two wheels? Well, two reasons for that. First, Reykjavík is relatively auto-oriented compared to its European counterparts. There are very functional and efficient expressways that divide the downtown from its waterfront and the parks that stretch along it. Parking is only regulated in the central downtown core. Bicycles are a new thing in Reykjavík… but those ‘multi-use’ paths are being built everywhere across the city. There is no rail system in Reykjavík (or Iceland at all, for that matter). The bus system is much stronger than those you’ll find in the states, but still isn’t enough to make transit preferable. So, this all adds up to – unless you choose to rent a vehicle, exploring Reykjavík by bike is a smoother ride than by foot/bus.

Second reason to go on bike… after exploring Reykjavík, you can go on tour across the island!

leaving Reykjavík for bike tour of iceland

No really, that’s what they call it.

tahoe from a bike

72 miles with about 2600′ of elevation gain/loss.

Most of the ride has at least an acceptable shoulder. This is pretty typical.

somewhere near tahoe city, biking

For a good 20-30 miles on the California side of the lake there’s a full-on separated bike path. Sweet! Unfortunately it’s then generally clogged with families and beach cruisers… so most of the time we stuck to the highway anyway. But it’s a step in the right direction. And it’d be a great place to take anyone who’s not yet solid on highway riding.

tahoe bike trail

We started from South Tahoe, and went clockwise around the lake. If you follow that route, your first treat is Emerald Bay, which you definitely have to earn with some steep climbs. But riding along the ridge between Emerald Bay and Cascade Lake is… stunning.

emerald bay

Looping around the west side heading towards Tahoe City: share that road!

and by share, I mean 'please don't cream my ass

From somewhere on the north shore. We got lunch in Incline Village.

tahoe from the north shore

Coming down Hwy 50 on the Nevada side is probably the most sketch part of the whole trip. Shoulder is non-existent, traffic is fast and so are you (we maxed out at just under 45mph) and there are large drainage grates that extend halfway out into the lane. We started by swerving around them, and ended by hopping them. Bunny hopping with a road bike – that can’t be good for your frame.

tahoe more biking

And… back in South Tahoe with a total riding time of just over 4 hours for the loop. A beautiful end to a beautiful ride.

south tahoe casinos

I’ve spent the last 6 months passively scouting (bike) commute routes up and down the Peninsula, in preparation for my upcoming move back to San Francisco and continued work/study at Stanford. I know I’m not alone in this – there’s a fair number of people who live in the city these days and commute down to the Silicon Valley, and a fair number of them are cyclists, and a fair number of those cyclists would bike to work occasionally if there was a decent route. So let’s find (build?) a route!

Unfortunately, I don’t believe there is a silver bullet of a route to find. This is the best I’ve came up with thus far… it’s reasonable. Most of the route I’d rate at a 3 (out of 5) or better in terms of cyclist safety. Excluding the intersection of Ceasar Chavez, Potrero, Bayshore and 101. That’s bunk.  That gets a 2.

There’s one part of the route that google maps can’t really handle. Along San Andreas Lake and the Lower Crystal Springs Reservoir, there’s an awesome mixed use path.  The path does have a 15mph bike speed limit – but the alternative is to add a couple hundred feet of climbing along with a short (but legal) stretch on 280.  Ouch.

So, this route took me 2:17 today without commute bags, which would probably add another 20 lbs and 20 minutes.  Doing this commute by car is generally 40-50 minutes, depending on the traffic.  Add another 10 minutes on each side of that for parking.  I guess to be fair, we should add 15 minutes of bike prep time, and 30 minutes for shower time at the far end.  So ~1 hour by car, ~3 hours by bike.

Any ideas for improving that get-out-of-SF part?  Or any other part of the ride for that matter?  The MTC has a set of ideas, but those are more long-term big picture ideas. I’m looking for a fast, safe route now… or as close to that ideal as possible.

I while back I wrote Caltrain a ‘passionate’ letter about how they’re focused on the wrong issues when it comes to bikes and Caltrain.  The situation has evolved a little since then, a little good clarification and a little new nomenclature.

  1. The bike plan they’re developing is no longer called the ‘Bicycle Master Plan’. Which is good, because it never was a bicycle master plan. It’s now called the ‘Bicycle Access and Parking Plan’. Again, good, because this means that we can forget this non-problem sooner rather than later and move on to developing a sorely needed ‘Bicycle Master Plan’.
  2. The first draft of the plan is out. Some of the URL’s and such still say ‘Master Plan’, but if you search that pdf, the word ‘master’ never comes up in there. Read it, comment about it, but don’t get your hopes up for a response.
  3. Why is Caltrain focusing on this non-issue right now?  Strings!  They’re attached!  On page 7 of the draft:

    In 2006, Caltrain secured a federal grant from the California Department of Transportation (Caltrans) to develop the agency’s first plan to address station access and parking issues for bicycles…

    Well, I’ll give you that in 2006 there wasn’t such a problem with bikes on board. But something is wrong with the system when we’re spending money (even if it is federal hand-me-downs) on a non-problem when there are other, very closely related, much bigger and more pressing problems. Is it the responsiveness (or lack thereof) of the system? 2006 to now – that’s a time scale of years between decision and action. Is it the locality (or lack thereof) of the decision makers relative to the issues? This is federal money, which was allocated to Caltrans for bike/pedestrian/transit, then Caltrans at the state level decided what specific local issue the funds were to be spent on.  To much focus on infrastructure improvements when service improvements are what’s really needed?  I’m not sure.  But it is clear the system is running in a state that is far from optimal.

The final plan will be presented to Caltrain’s Joint Powers Board on October 2nd for approval/rejection.  Stay tuned.

Caltrain is currently putting together a Bicycle Master ‘Plan’.  This is a Good Thing, as Caltrain has some serious problems with their current bicycle situation, which are getting worse fast (and, I’d argue, will continue to worsen polynomially with respect to gas prices).  However, Caltrain’s Draft Bike Master Plan currently isn’t focused on these issues – but rather on bike parking and storage at stations.  Which is not a problem of any significance.  Awesome!  Is this one of those classic ‘the people making the decisions are not the people using the service’? Or is this intentional blindness? Is it that the money coming in has strings attached to it? What’s the deal?

In any case, Caltrain is accepting comments on their draft plan through August 17. If you ride Caltrain (especially with a bike), please take the time to tell Caltrain what issues you think it’s important the bike plan address, and any ideas you may have for actually addressing them.  You can email your comments to bikeplan@caltrain.com.

To: bikeplan@caltrain.com
From: Michael J. Fogel <mike … at … fogel.ca>
Subject: Bikeplan comments:  refocus on the real issue – bikes on board

Good Morning Bikeplan,

I want to add my voice to the chorus.  I feel it’s downright silly that Caltrain is investing time and effort into bicycle parking and storage at this time.  It’s true that may need improvement, but it doesn’t have anywhere near the urgency nor importance that the ‘not enough space on board for bikes’ problem does.

Currently:

- a significant portion of the Caltrain system is consistently delayed, primarily due to bikes loading and unloading.

- 100’s of riders a day are ‘bumped’ from their trains because of a lack of space for them and their bike.

- This problem is getting worse, fast.  This is primarily a product of rising gasoline prices.

Conversely:

- I’ve been riding Caltrain for 5 years, often with my bike.  I have yet to ever, ever hear someone complain about bike parking or storage at a station.

Addressing the ‘bikes on board’ problem is much more difficult than the ‘bike storage’ problem.  But Caltrain needs to suck it up, and address it now.  It’s getting worse, fast!  There are three classes of general approaches:

1. Disallow bikes on board.  They take up too much space and time.

2. Continue fully subsidizing bikes on board.  Thus you need to add more trains, and achieve better loading and unloading throughput.  I don’t (nor does Caltrain, I gather) feel this is a practical solution in the long term (long term meaning: $10-20 for a gallon of gas).

3. Implement a series of coordinated of incentives/disincentives to bringing bikes on the train.  Caltrain’s current approach falls into this category.  However, Caltrain is restricting their study and action to one small part of this solution:  Caltrain wants to provide one incentive (improved bike parking/storage) to help reduce demand for bikes on trains.

Providing improved bike parking and storage will indeed reduce demand and ease the real ‘bikes on board’ problem… by what, 3% ???  Has Caltrain made any estimates of the (intuitively insignificant) effect this is going to have on the real issue here?

Caltrain must refocus its Bikeplan directly at the real problem: bikes on board.  Improved storage and parking is a part of the solution, but a small part.

A few suggestions for other (larger) parts of the solution:

1. Begin charging a ‘fair’ (in comparison to the other Caltrain patrons, who do not bring bikes on board) fare for bringing a bike on board.  If a bike takes up enough space for what would have been another passenger, require that all bikes have tickets.  Also, a surcharge could be imposed on that bike ticket to account for the increased loading/unloading time.

2. Remove all bike cars from express trains and add them to the non-express trains.  Now you can still bring a bike on board if you need to, but you know your trip will be a little longer.

3. Require advance reservation (and purchase) of bike spot on a train, just like assigned seating.  This would reduce loading/unloading times, and greatly reduce the stress of bringing a bike on board.  In addition it would provide a moderate disincentive bringing a bike on board, via increased complexity.

Caltrain has made impressive strides in the last five years or so.  The issue of bringing bikes on board is causing significant problems, while the issue of bike parking and storage is not.  And worst of all – the situation with bikes on board is getting worse, fast.  Caltrain must refocus its Bikeplan now, directly and explicitly on the real issue: bikes on board.

Thanks for your time and consideration,

Michael J. Fogel

(This letter, and your responses, will be publicly posted.)

If Caltrain ever does reply, I’ll post it here.  Don’t hold your breath – we’re already pushing two weeks.

The San Francisco Bicycle Coalition has also publicly posted their comments on the situation.

Most bottom brackets are reverse threaded on the drive side, so that you aren’t slowly loosing the bottom bracket as you ride. Well, if you have an older Italian or French bottom bracket, then they got that backwards. Awesome. Your BB is threaded the same on both sides, regular old right-handed.

If your BB says ‘36×24T’ on it, it’s Italian. Otherwise, look it up in Lord Sheldon’s BB database.