Duh-duh-duh-DUH

The Brickell Metrorail station is just about at SW 9th Street. The street sign at the corner reads "Beethoven's Ninth Symphony St." Guess what ditty plays when a train enters the station?

We heard the "duh-duh-duh-DUH" as we pedaled past the station early this morning. We were heading to the Rickenbacker for our daily ride. We'd done about 50 miles yesterday, including the Saturday EBC group ride to Black Point Marina. We're becoming quite fond of the 16-18 mph group. It isn't much of a physical stretch, but it's a nice social ride with a pleasant assortment of people. Nice banter at a easy pace.

Sunday is still my favorite day in Miami. Light traffic in Brickell and Downtown. Lots and lots of bicycles. Which brings me to the Sunday Bozo Peloton. The Sunday Bozo Peloton is not a small group of riders. It is a very large group. We've run into this group every Sunday, unfortunately often at Bear Cut Bridge. There is one stretch of road at Bear Cut Bridge where bike and pedestrian traffic is two-way affair. (Clue to the Bozo Peloton: If the little bike sign in the bike lane is upside down, you are going the wrong way.) The Sunday Bozo Peloton swoops through this section, riders hunched over their handlebars, heads down and hammering away, totally oblivious to anything else on the roadway. There is a leader of sorts who flaps arms and yells wildly for the group to move over, but his flock pays only vague attention. It's like watching a flock of crazed seagulls on road bikes. The easiest way to deal with them is to move to the margin of the lanes and stop. Is it any wonder why so many people hate the road bike community? I'm on the road riding a road bike, and I hate this peloton.

We watched them pound away down the road, thankfully in the opposite direction from where we were headed. We pedaled on, spending some time at the beach taking in the view as we munched bananas. The sun was getting higher. It was time for us to turn our bikes towards the high rises of Brickell and Downtown Miami, make a final swoop over Powell Bridge and head home.

Sunday is our day for a picnic lunch on the Miami River, watching the boats go by and the bridges going up and down. This week we were joined by a cyclist on a beautifully restored, elegant 60s era Bianchi. Now that was a nice addition to the already lovely scenery...

"If the world were perfect, it wouldn't be." (Yogi Berra)

Another month, another car use report. Our dramatic change in car use since our move to Miami continues. A high-density urban area with public transportation is very livable. We aren't homebodies. We spend our time out and about. We go to stores. We run about town. We do errands and see people. We eat out. We just don't need to use the car.

• Month:  May
• Number of Times the Car Left the Garage: 3
• Total Miles: 154

Just three car trips in 31 days. We racked up 154 miles of car use, of which almost all were used in one trip to the upper Florida Keys. The other two trips were to and from local bike shops!

How does everything get done without using the car? The big three: walking, biking, using public transportation.

A few years back I bought a bright yellow nylon backpack with padded straps. It was on a clearance rack at the beginning of the school year. I fell in love with the color. It languished in the back of my closet until we moved to Miami. Now I use it most days.

And, funny as it seems, it looks good with every outfit in my closet. (Except maybe the little black cocktail dress...)

We have deep depth. (Yogi Berra)

We sipped our coffee on the balcony in the dark before dawn, planning our day's schedule, and bitching about the crummy weather. Not that we should complain. Miami's weather is hands down better than the severe thunderstorms in the Midwest. But we were heading out for our last ride of May, and the wind was gusting and more rain was possible.

We headed out, dodging the rush hour traffic. We rode about 10 miles meandering through pleasant residential neighborhoods. Eventually we turned south to Coconut Grove. I had dreams of an espresso, but Al was determined keep us on the bikes and moving. We ducked into the traffic lanes along the marinas to check the wind. A quick look convinced us that we didn't want to ride out the Rickenbacker Causeway. We'd finish today's miles doing loops on South Miami Boulevard. Just to add a bit of drama to the morning's ride, I got a flat as we passed Vizcaya, and the bike pump, like most small bike pumps, acted twitchy. But the flat got fixed, the loops of South Miami Boulevard got finished, and our last bike ride of the month was eventually logged in.

We did a little happy dance.

Our May mileage was a new personal best. The most bike miles in a single month. (That does not include months with bike tours, since bike tours and high mileages go together. Duh.)  And we did it in Miami. 

A Very Windy Memorial Day

We watched the wind in the palm trees as we sipped coffee at breakfast on the balcony. The wind was from the east. The Powell Bridge to Virginia Key would be interesting in this wind. We were out the door heading to the elevators with our bikes after a quick run of morning chores.

I wanted to see the crowds gathering at the beaches, and I wanted a quiet ride through the old Miami zoo, now a protected garden area in Crandon Park. Crossing Powell Bridge into the strong headwind was (gasp...gasp...gasp) a challenge. As we neared the top of the bridge, the pedaling got a little easier. But we had to keep pedaling hard to go downhill. No coasting today.

We rode to the Cape Florida State Park lighthouse for our banana break. Our next break would be the old zoo and the Crandon beaches. The old zoo is kept as an area of botanical gardens. Peacocks, Egyptian geese, ducks, and a variety of other creatures roam free. It's paths wander among ponds and creeks.

Egyptian Goose

The beaches were filling fast. It was breakfast time for most people, but family groups were claiming their tables and beach spots, and grills were firing up. A steady stream of cars was streaming into the vast parking lots.

A windy early Memorial Day morning at one of the beaches.

And the final trip over Powell Bridge with the wind at our backs was pure fun.

Yeah, but it's a warm rain...

Club ride Saturday. Club ride number 2 for us. We were going out with the 16-18 mph group, up from the 14-16 mph newbies group we were with last week. (Progress.)

All groups follow the same route to Deering Estates. The faster groups peeled out first and disappeared down the road. When it came time for our group to depart, we rolled down South Bayshore Drive towards the Grove in a crisp line of 20+ riders. Beyond the Grove the route meandered through a series of residential neighborhoods. It will be a while before I can navigate this twisting and turning route on my own. The fact that riding with a group requires less energy for the same speed was quickly apparent since the mileage of today's group ride was about the same as Al and my daily ride. Today's group was a pleasant speed for us, a good speed for social chit chat. (I made a mental note to talk Al into doing the faster ride some time for more of a challenge.) It was quickly apparent, too, that riders had a perceived pecking order. We needed to ride with this group for a few weeks and learn more about the group dynamics before we inserted ourselves into that pecking order.

There were a bunch of people who were riding to the break at Deering Estates, then turning around and heading home rather than doing the whole ride. Which meant they were also skipping the post ride group breakfast at a restaurant in the Grove. This was their compromise to their busy holiday weekend schedules. That worked for us, too, so we hooked up with them for the ride back to City Hall.

Shortly after we began our ride back, the skies got very, very dark. It started to rain. "Who wants to seek shelter?" Susie yelled to the group. "Keep riding!" they yelled; "We've got stuff we have to do." So we rode on as the rain changed from a shower, to a light rain, to a heavy rain, to a deluge. Rain sheeted down my glasses giving the scene an underwater vibe. We all found ourselves checking and moving cell phones to places more protected from the rain. I looked down at my camera in my snack bag splattered and glistening. I forgot to put it in it's plastic bag, and it was too late to worry about it. If it died, I'd just look at it as an omen that I deserved a new camera!

The rain slowed, then stopped as we approached the Grove. One of the Susies dropped back to me to smile and say, "That was refreshing!" A short time later we were waving goodbye to them at City Hall. Our next stop was a block down, a deli/market where we would dry off, sip some coffee, and stock up on some goodies for the holiday weekend. The sun was already popping out by the time our bikes were tucked into the bike stand, the official end of the group ride for Al and me.

Half of the people in the world are below average.

Miami is the first place Al and I have lived with convenient bicycle club group rides. When getting to and from a ride takes longer than the ride itself, that is a no go in my book. The Everglades Bicycle Club rides start just south of our new home.

We have ridden with groups of riders at bike events, but we've never done it in a formal way. We just tagged along for a mile or two then went off on our own. Which meant that for all intents and purposes we were clueless about manners and protocol for this sort of thing. So this morning we rode south four miles to the old Miami City Hall to our first Everglades Bicycle Club group ride. I was as nervous as a little kid heading to the first day at a new school. I didn't know what I would do, but I was certain I would embarrass myself. Al thought this was funny, but he didn't push the point. We all like to think we're at least as good as the next guy. My vice is the fear of showing myself to be far below average in a very public way.

The group ride start is on Biscayne Bay at the old Miami City Hall.

There were three groups heading out from the old Miami City Hall. We had talked it over and decided to start with Group 3, the 14-16 mile per hour group. We ride faster than that, but ride speed wasn't what we needed to learn. We figured that the leader of the slow group would be the most tolerant of a couple of ignorant riders in their midst. That turned out to be a good decision. The first guys we met were from Group 2, the 16-18 mile per hour group. These aren't the speedy guys, but the thing was this: They'd been riding together for over 20 years. Not the group I wanted to be with on my maiden group ride. They seemed like really nice people. I didn't want to screw up their weekly ride by doing something dumb.

The groups were riding the same route to Deering Estate where we all made a rest stop. Our group turned around and returned to City Hall. The other groups continued south to Homestead Bayfront Park. At the rest  stop at Deering Estate we came upon a comical scene. A dad was staging a video event with his little girl, who was beyond thrilled that her dad was helping her put the whole thing together. Remember the Peanuts cartoon with Lucy selling advice for a nickle? Here's the stand they had going:

Some ladies out for a stroll through the park went up and asked the kid some questions. The little girl was cute, witty, and way too smart for her age!

Our group went to Lulu's in Coconut Grove for breakfast before ending the ride. I was feeling pretty good. I had only caused two almost crashes. Since it was just twice and just an almost crash, I felt my maiden group ride was a success. By the end of the ride I was pointing out road hazards, signaling slowing and stops, and generally performing fairly adequately. We had guessed right about the group. They were very tolerant of my mistakes, and nobody screamed at me even once. Success!

Our Saturday mornings will be Everglades Bike Club group rides from now on. (Sweet.)

Why Do Bike Computers Make Us Crazy?

The bicycle computer is an indispensable piece of gear. Unfortunately, it feeds those obsessive, compulsive, addictive behaviors hidden deep within us all.

Today was a comical example. We are going on a club ride on Saturday. Al was making certain all was well with our road bikes. My bike and all its gear were just fine. His bike was fine--but his bike computer was all out of wack. I watched as he fiddled, fussed, fumed, and practiced colorful language. We could do our daily ride without the computer working, but it was clear from the git-go that was not an option. What was comical was that I completely understood this.  Ride without knowing the numbers? Unthinkable!

And so we left on our daily ride, Al's computer still out of kilter. Every block we stopped so that Al could fiddle. I drifted my bike a few yards away, careful to stay out of harm's way. This scene was repeated frequently as we pedalled the mile or so to the Rickenbacker. I listened politely to the updates he provided as function after function was put in order. But I spoke not one word. Never get involved with someone fiddling with a bike computer! They are clinically crazy during these moments.

At last all was well and we were off on our ride. It gave me something to think about as we rode. We keep the numbers on spreadsheets and get a thrill when we reach milestones or personal bests. I can't even imagine riding without keeping track of the numbers. (How weird is that?) I've not infrequently seen cyclists on rides carry their bikes into rest stops from the roadway so that that brief interval of slow riding doesn't affect their overall numbers. (Now that is weird.) All in all, I decided Al and I aren't too far over the edge.