Chicago Bike Blog

Rapid Transit Winter Tune-Up is Back

Remember this? Remember the havoc it wreaks on your bike?

That's why Rapid Transit Cycleshop offers it's annual Winter Tune-Up special to Chicago's winter cyclists.

This winter special is more than just a tune-up. It is a season-long maintenance package. It includes all of the goodies that are part of our regular Deluxe Tune-Up, namely:

• Full adjustment of braking system, including pads, levers, cable & housing replacement & lubrication.
• Full adjustment of shifting system, including derailleurs, levers, cable & housing replacement & lubrication.
• External adjustment of both hubs.
• Spot-truing of both wheels as needed to ensure good braking.
• External adjustment of headset.
• External adjustment of bottom bracket.
• Full check of parts and accessories to ensure safety.
• Chain lubrication.
• Tires inflated to correct pressure.
• Free installation on additional accessories purchased from us.
• Complete wheel dishing  & truing. (We will also include inner tube replacement, if needed.)
• Complete drivetrain cleaning or replacement (as needed). There is a lot of variation here, depending on the needs of each individual bike & rider, so please call for details, or better yet, bring you bike in and discuss the repair with the mechanic. Labor assessments and estimates are always free.

But what makes the Winter Tune-Up worthy of its name is the ongoing maintenance we include in this service for the entire cold riding season, specifically until March 31, 2009. After you have purchased your Winter Tune-Up you are entitled to:

• Full bike wash and lube, as often as you wish (normally, $35 each time!)
• Adjustments and tuning whenever needed
• Free labor on fixing flats
• Free installation of parts and accessories purchased at Rapid Transit.

All our offerings also include a thorough evaluation, professional expertise of a mechanic who is also a rider, a burning desire to make your bike work well for you, a test ride to make sure what has been promised is delivered.

You can purchase the Winter Tune-Up for $155 for your multi-speed bike. Please call for pricing on single-speed and fixed-gear bikes

And what about red lights?

My recent confession that I tend not to stop at stop signs when biking, prompted a reader to ask me about my attitude toward red lights.

To me, a red light pretty much unequivocally means "stop". I even go as far as to not try to beat traffic by using pedestrian signals to go around the intersection at three-way crossings, such as Elston-Western-Diversey which may be familiar to you if you live in Chicago. I wait for green, and proceed across the intersection with other vehicular traffic.

I guess you could say that stopping at red lights while riding a bicycle is a pretty strict rule for me. But a rule is proven by exceptions. I would, and have, made exceptions, when I've felt that my safety was endangered. This is when I think running red lights is justifiable:

1. You are approaching a red light on a deserted street at, oh, 2 am in 10 degree weather. Go ahead. I would (after looking both ways, of course). If you stop, you could lose valuable body heat that you need to get home.
2. You are approaching a red light on a deserted street, in a neighborhood where you have legitimate reason to fear for your safety. Why you would be there in the first place, I don't know. But if you find yourself in that situation, I would encourage you to just keep moving.
3. You are ahead of a long line of cars on a really busy street without much of a buffer zone (think Sheridan Road), and you have an opportunity to safely proceed just before the light turns green. You may want to avail yourself of the opportunity to jump ahead for the car traffic, so you can safely claim your space in the lane. This is especially useful if you intend to quickly get off that road anyway at the nearest opportunity.
4. You are crossing the "T" part of a T-intersection (eg. heading northbound on Elston at Sacramento, or biking in any right lane, where there is traffic merging into the left lane from, say, a highway ramp). Your movement isn't going to impact the flow of traffic. While your safety is not at risk, and I personally might choose to just wait for my light, I think proceeding on red in such circumstances is justifiable.

Have I ever blown a red light just because I could? Yep.

And the only time I didn't feel sheepish about it is when there was no one, not a soul, to witness it. Otherwise, I've always felt like a bit of a cheat. It's almost as if I've taken away some of my own legitimacy, as though I've said to the drivers waiting in their cars: "Oh, I'm not really a vehicle. These rules don't apply to me."

Sometimes I feel that way too if on a short bike hop to the store I decide not to wear my helmet. If I happen to see a helmeted cyclist along the way (which I almost always do), I always feel I am less of a cyclist than that person.

Why don't I feel that way about running stop-signs? Well, usually, the reason I run them, is precisely because there is no one else there. If there is another person there, and he waves me through, that means that he has recognized how ridiculous it would be for me to come to a complete stop. And if this other person elects to exercise his right of way, I do in fact stop, and act like a vehicle.

Stop means Stop, right?

"Mom, that's a stop sign. Does that mean we have to stop?"
I was biking with my 7-year old daughter back home from a Girls Scout bike outing. This was the first time she was riding on the street with me on her own bike (we usually ride a family tandem or trailer bike).

Prior to embarking on a bicycle trip with eight Brownie Girl Scouts, we did a little bit of preparation on safety, and following the rules of the road.
In the church basement, where we usually meet, I held up a red paper stop sign.
"What does this say?"
"STOP!"
"What do you do when you see this sign?"
"STOP!!!"
"If you are on a bicycle, do you still have to stop?"
"Yes!" most girls yelled, but one wasn't sure: "No?"
As a Girl Scout leader, I assured her that yes, the law required her to stop at a stop sign, even while riding a bike.
But here I was now, approaching a quiet street corner with my daughter, and I realized with sharp clarity, that, as a cyclist, I never stop at stop signs.
Sure, I stop when there are other vehicles approaching the intersection at the same time. Especially large, motorized vehicles, with drivers who don't appear to be paying attention. You better believe I stop, planting one foot firmly on the ground, and allowing them to wrest the right of way from me. I'm not proud.
But it's the presence of the automobiles, not the stop sign, that makes me halt.
Frankly, as a cyclist, I treat the stop sign more like a flashing yellow light: proceed with caution. It would be completely ridiculous for me to come to a full stop riding on side streets, where stop signs are planted at every block. What I do instead, and I do it without thinking, is to shift down a step or two, coast briefly, and jut my head slightly forward to get a better view of the intersection, and, if all is clear, or if the approaching driver waves me on, pedal on through.
I did stop at the intersection with my daughter, even though no car was coming. And, as we started pedaling again, I explained to her that the rules of the road were made with automobiles in mind, and are not always practical for cyclists. And that as a cyclist, sometimes you have to use judgment and common sense.
"Does that mean you sometimes break the rules?"
"I guess that's what it means."

I love my trailer!

I don't live in one of those neighborhoods where you have a hard time finding bike rack space when you want to run in for a gallon of milk. But even in my sleepy neck of the woods, there have been bikes tied up at the local natural foods giant bike racks. It seems we are, indeed, on the road to accomplishing step one: getting more people on bikes. If they are biking here, in the land of the Lexus, they surely are biking elsewhere in the city. Not that I think it's time to rest on our laurels, but I'd say we're making some headway.
Here's the thing. Once they get to their destination, in this case, the supermarket, many of these folks have no idea how to get their load home.

OK, they guy in the front has a milk crate, and I think those are great. And once in a while I see someone with something resembling a grocery pannier. But the others? How are they going to carry their shopping home?

If they are using a backpack, a shopping bag thrown over the handlebars, or even that milk crate, chances are they are not using the bike for major errands. And that obviously limits the number of occasions that they will rely on their bicycle. With two trusty grocery panniers, you can carry two large, fully stuffed grocery bags, and even lay something extra across the rack. That's often enough for a small household, and it may be all that you need.

But what if you are shopping for a family? Or if you have a bunch of people coming over to your house, and you need to carry heavy stuff, like beer? Or what if you are, or want to be, car-free, and you need to use you bike for more than just the occasional trip to the store?

You need a trailer.

I have to admit, that until fairly recently, I was biased against trailers. The trailers I have tried have been child trailers, which are great for their stated purpose, but somewhat wide and cumbersome for other applications; and the single wheeled BOB trailer, which has fabulous handling while riding, but is annoyingly wiggly to maneuver with the bike when trying to get your load in and out.

Earlier this summer, in preparation for a bike camping trip, we bought a Burley Nomad cargo trailer. I hadn't really planned on using it for groceries, but, as long as it was sitting in my garage, why not? This thing is pretty amazing. Burley offers several attachment options, but we have the classic hitch, which allows you to quickly connect the trailer to many standard bikes with several turns of a nut. In my neighborhood, I don't worry too much about locking the trailer. But it could be locked up with the bike using a cable. I emerge from the store with a fully loaded cart, and arrange four fully stuffed canvas grocery bags, three six-packs of beer and a gallon of apple cider in the trailer with room to spare.

The Nomad is rated to 100lbs. You could probably get away with a little over that, if you're going a short distance. The cover opens all the way, allowing you to arrange the load just the way you like it, and then stretches over your load, keeping all the stuff securely in place. The two wheel design is superior for this application. It keeps the bike and the trailer completely stable while it's being loaded and maneuvered into position, until you are ready to get on and ride back home. You do feel the load behind your bike, but it tows easily and tracks beautifully. If you've ever towed children behind your bike, you will not believe how easy this is in comparison.

While for me it is the perfect trailer, if you live in an apartment or condo with limited storage, it may be tricky to conveniently stash the Nomad and keep it easily accessible for errands. It does fold flat for storage, but that may cut down on its ease of use. I really see its optimum application in households with a garage, where the trailer can be kept assembled and ready to roll, as a simple and convenient substitute for a car trunk.

It's priced in the low $300's, which is competitive with other quality bike trailers. I can't tell you how quickly it will pay for itself, but I'm pretty sure it's a more lasting investment than the $80 you can pour into the gas tank every time you fill up...

I know this particular trailer has been around for a very long time, marketed primarily for bike touring. But, as I recently discovered myself, it is the perfect tool for extending the usefulness of your urban bike.

What stops you from riding?

I know there are those among us who ride their bikes no matter what. The rest of us have doubts. At least once in a while. What are your stumbling blocks to cycling?And, if you are able to overcome them, how do you do it?

For me personally, the biggest block to riding is my kids. And my kids are easy. They're not babies, and they actually enjoy biking. And we have great vehicles for family biking. I bike with them locally in our own neighborhood: to their various activities, friends' homes, library and ice cream shop.  But I am absolutely paranoid about biking with them on larger streets, such as Elston or Milwaukee. So, when going on a longer trip around Chicago with them, I often choose the perceived safety of the automobile.

Traffic safety, when I bike alone, is also a concern, but it never stops me from riding. I have many years of urban riding experience, and I choose my route and biking strategy based on my skills and energy level. But it is something we all have to think about when we roll our bike onto a city street. Are you ever so concerned about safety that you choose not to ride?

Unlike those of us who work in the bike industry, most folks can't show up for work wearing cycling gear. How do you reconcile having to adhere to a strict dress code and grooming standards with a strenuous commute? Does that stop you, or do you find a way around it?

I am fortunate that my neighborhood has a designated bike route running through it, and is close to convenient diagonal thoroughfares. Although those are not the most pleasant streets to bike on, they are fast and efficient routes. The areas I generally have to travel through don't cause me to be concerned for my personal security. Is your location and/or route an obstacle to cycling?

Although I can easily manage the distance from my house to the store, it is definitely more than what I would consider a "hop". I'm not sure if I would call this obstacle "distance" or "laziness", but it does sometimes stop me from riding. (I know for sure I wouldn't call it "time savings", because whenever I've opted to go by car, I usually end up stuck in traffic.) Do you consider your bike commute impractical because of the distance you have to travel? Or, like me, are you sometimes just lazy? How do you give yourself a kick?

Looking out the window this early morning, I know the violent rain would stop me. Does it ever stop you?
How about your fitness level?
Your cycling equipment?
Always running late?
Or are you unstoppable?

Some people of the bicycling industry

Selling bicycles, especially in a city with distinct and temperamental seasons, like Chicago, is a highly cyclical business.

We get unceremoniously shaken out of our winter slumber by the throngs of cyclists who one day simply decide that biking season has arrived, and who continue their relentless onslaught from the early days of spring right through the hottest weeks of summer, and sometimes even into early fall. Then they forget about us for a few weeks.
That violent assault, however, has the unintended result of making our bike shop staff extremely cranky, if not downright surly, by sometime in August. It also makes the shop itself a rather sorry sight, as if a dog had chewed it and decided it wasn't to his liking.
We are truly in sad shape.
And, believe it or not, what recharges our batteries every single year, is the trade show. Yes, we find solace, release, even inspiration, in the annual bike extravanganza known as Interbike, and, though we complain, we dutifully travel to Las Vegas every September, where we talk too much, eat too much, drink too much, and sleep to little. And then, after returning to Chicago, we use the winter time to slowly rise, like the phoenix, from our own ashes, and re-create ourselves as a fully functioning bike shop to face yet another season.
What about Interbike has this amazing power?
It's not the stuff. It's never about the stuff.
Sometimes the stuff represents ideas, but these ideas come from people. And meeting people, people who live and create bike culture, from all over the country is what we go to the trade show to do.
People like Laura.

(Laura is lightyears ahead of me in cycling footwear)

Chris was hanging out at a vendor booth, filling out some forms with my name, when a woman happened to glance over his shoulder "That wouldn't be Justyna who writes the Chicago Bike Blog, would it?"
(wow! someone knows me!....)
Turns out that Laura used to work in a bicycle shop in San Diego. Customers, especially "non-cyclists", used to love to come and see her there, because she, well, essentially, she treated them nicely. She didn't treat them like "customers" (ie. people on the other end of a deal).
She aksed them about their needs and concerns, about their fears and their dreams. She explained to them the terminology that other bike shop personnel took for granted. With frankness and empathy, she discussed issues like pain, weight, fitness level, saddle comfort. Through simple dialog, she began to dispell their fears, and lift the veil on their dreams.
It turns out, that perhaps the middle-aged, slightly heavy woman, did not see herself tooling around on a comfort-hybrid on a Sunday afternoon. She dreamt of leaning over the handlebars in a sleek jersey, cruising for miles on an open road. The athletic guy in a baseball t-shirt didn't want to jump boulders in the woods. He wanted a simple bike he could ride one-handed to the ballpark along a quiet neighborhood street. The student in torn jeans didn't want a cheap fixie. He was planning all aspects of an efficient commute to his new job at a law firm.
Unfortunately, Laura's boss did not share her enthusiasm for finding out about people. He wanted her to sell bikes. Only he called them "units". Laura wanted to solve problems, and to build relationships; he prized the sale of a "unit" today, over the value of a lifetime of loyalty.
So Laura left, and went into business for herself. And I wish her great success, because she has a lot to offer.
But it makes me a bit sad. Sad for the shop owner, who may have missed the opportunity to make his business extraordinary. We, as bicycle shop representatives, are at the forefront of bike culture in our communities, and have a genuine opportunity to shape that culture. If we really expect new people to come to cycling and embrace it as part of their lives, we have to make them feel at home at a bike shop. We can't bombard them with technical details or overwhelm them with products before we have extended the courtesy of learning a little bit about them.
For heaven's sake, let's not "convert" them. Let's listen to their questions, concerns, ideas and fears. Let's not translate their needs into dollars, and immediately turn them into Customers.
Let's earn their trust, and see if they'll tell us their dreams.

Vegas detox

It really takes a while to recover from Vegas. It's been, what, three or four days, and my head is till buzzing from the pinging sound of those one-armed-bandit machines. Or was it Chris ringing a bell in an uncharacteristic macho moment?

Yes, really, he whacked that weight all the way to the top, as Deb and I jumped up and cheered in unison (that's why the picture is blurry). Only in Vegas. In real life, Chris wouldn't be caught dead participating in such displays of prowess.
Vegas has a shifty geography. It's enough to make everyone's head a little askew.

You really have to enter at your own risk. Why is it, for example, that when you are staying at a premium hotel on the strip, the cab ride there from the airport takes you through several freeway overpasses, and costs $35, and when you stay at a business class hotel a mere half mile away, you can get there in less than ten minutes for under ten bucks? Why is it that when someone says a place is two blocks away it takes you 45 minutes to get there?

Like the bike polo match that was supposedly just around the corner. By the time we got there, it was too late to take a decent picture.
I believe that the giant Vegas casinos sit on tectonic plates, and actually change position as you fruitlessly try to navigate its streets.
Interbike is no less confusing. Before I get to the important business of telling you about the great new finds, I'll leave you with a few impressions.
Take this frame, for instance.

Really , the perfect vehicle for your fishnet stockings, don't you agree?

Lusting after an Airstream?

Well, you could always do a pop-up while you let your savings account grow.

Does this message (ahem...) stop you in your tracks?

Well, maybe this one will get you going?

The excesses and the silliness of Vegas sometimes overshadowed the fact that we were really there to celebrate the vehicle that will save the world. Give me just a little more time to recover, and I'll tell you how.