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Hmmmm, that was an interesting tent. Now what's inside this one over here? - a deer with a palate for powerbars...photo by Theresa Scholz
BF Homecoming/Cycle Oregon 2003 PHOTO GALLERY shot by Hanz Scholz, Tim Link & Lynette Chiang.
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Read the previous part of this story
Day 1, Baker City to Farewell Bend, 51 miles downhillish.
Today, Markus Bethel, Bike Friday Service Guy, drove the company van to Farewell Bend to stake out a campsite for the 77 pairs of little wheels. The tents were dry, spirits were high. Most riders seem to leave between 6:30 and 7:30.
I was riding supposedly the lightest and fastest of the all the Bike Friday models, the Pocket Rocket Pro Petite, which can weigh as little as 15 lbs if you want to lighten your wallet accordingly. My bike weighed around 18.5 lbs. Yet I was astounded at how I would arrive at rest stops to find riders on seemingly slower, heavier Bike Fridays saddling up to leave.
I discovered that what makes a bike go faster, more than skinniness of tires, amount of carbon fiber or length of quadriceps, is talking. Less. But when you are riding a Bike Friday you will always get stopped, questioned, invited to linger, to eat dinner, to stay and become lifelong friends. That is what makes the bikes slower, not the wheel size. If you are a hermit and like it that way, if you are a monk maintaining a lifetime vow of silence, don't buy a Bike Friday.
At Farewell Bend we organized the first of our 6pm Bike Friday pow-wows. This was a chance to bring the group together and distribute the complimentary Bike Friday World Map jersey promised to each participant. The gift came with strings attached-you had to wear it. We also encouraged owners to invest in a unique piece of jewelery for their bike, Bike Friday's first ever Bike Friday Headbadge.
I seized an opportunistic moment to try and offload a handful of Australian editions of my book The Handsomest Man in Cuba. About 8 folks stepped up for a signing, thinking they'd have time to indulge in a little bedtime reading in their tents each night. Little did they know that they'd be so exhausted at the end of each day that the Handsomest Man in Cuba would be as appealing as a poke in the eye with a sharp tent peg. (I am contributing 10% of the profits of those sales to the Cycle Oregon Fund, which should just about buy a schoolkid in Farewell Bend a hamburger with the lot. And I thought selling strange bicycles was tough.). Thank you all for supporting a first-time author. When you've read it, please post a review on my Forum
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Theresa Scholz expertly makes a row of nylon tarps look like a shot from National Geographic ... photo by Theresa Scholz
Day 2, Farewell Bend to Cambridge Idaho, 57 miles.
'Beware of the Bike Friday cult - they steal children.'
We don't know exactly who posted this classified ad in the newsletter, but it was enough to show that we'd already created a stir.
Hanz got up on the main stage later in the week and cleared the air.
'Although our bikes looked like kids bikes, we definitely do not steal children-in fact we quite like them' he said. He now has a little one of his own, so we knew he was telling the truth.
For me, this was the most scenic day of the lot. The Snake River was stark and dramatic, mudflats and verdant islets splitting its course, one of those National Geographic scenes which could have been labeled An Estuary in Botswana or Heading north to Siberia, but it was just a few crank turns outside Safeway in Baker City. Quite a few.
On arrival in Cambridge we were greeted by some locals square dancing in colorful costumes, with a caller on a small mike, just outside the line of blue portable restrooms (where you don't want to rest too long, especially after a block-long queue has rested in it). The four older couples did their turns and swing-your-partner-round-and-round, oblivious to the ambivalence of the lycra lizards dribbling past them. They were simply sharing a piece of their life, in their own good time and place. It struck as delightfully innocent, in the city, this kind of innocence - like karaoke - would be cast as ironic.
Speaking of the restrooms, one of them ate my brand new, Topeak Master Blaster Mini pump. I'd given it to Tim Link to put in his back pocket. He went into the porta potty and ... *splook*. Was he going to dive in and get it? I offered to throw our wallets and watches and John Chamberlain's $1000 red Rohloff 14-speed hub in as well to make it worthwhile, but he declined. Remember: jersey pockets are open at the top!
Hanz staked out a piece of turf for the BF contingent, but unwittingly upset a big wheeler who did not see the signage and wanted to set up camp.
'It was a hard one,' said Hanz. I wanted to let him know he was welcome to camp with us but at the same time we had to make sure there'd be enough room for all 77 of our folks who'd come to be with us, many of whom said they would not have come without the attraction of the group.
'What happened to diversity?' demanded the man and stormed off. Later he passed by and archly remarked 'I suppose I can't walk through here?'
'Of course you can.. hey, would you like some sugar?' said Hanz offering him a bag of sweets.
Communities, clubs, clans, collectives-whenever people form a group someone, somewhere, will feel sidelined, even if the welcome mat is out. The decal on our bike frames, the print on our jerseys is as unifying and separating as the spots on a leopard's back. I suspect that even in a giant group, everyone wants to be an individual, yet everyone wants to belong.
We resolved to make sure that next time, we'd try to have a little patch of turf figured into the site maps. +++
Day 3: Cambridge Idaho to Halfway, Oregon.
Today was the 45-mile long option where BF Co-founder Hanz Scholz and his fleet-cleated compatriots chased a pair of Shimano guys down the canyon.
We have two riders for you to chase. Both ex racers in the Shimano colors
The little daily newsletter dispensed in the long and winding breakfast queue warned of upcoming challenges including hills, pubs, and moving targets for would-be Lances. By evening the word had gotten around some folks had been riding a bit too fast for such a recreational, non-competitive event.
Now, as one who generally rides at the speed of the Tour de France garbage compactor, I never entered the slipstream of this awesome twosome over the 7-day event. But rumor had it that three riders were seen disappearing down the gullet of Hell's Canyon riding funny little bikes and at a politely constant speed of around 28 mp/h for around 15 miles.
Later, NWT owner Teresa Ojeda reported at pow-wow that she was sitting at a table and heard that Bike Friday must have brought in professionals to ride 'those bikes.'
'Excuse me sir,' she replied, 'I don't think so..' 'YOU!' they shouted. 'You ride a Bike Friday!' 'Yeah, we caught em all right,' said Hanz. Accessories to the chase were Pocket Rocket owner Dan 'what brakes?' Fallorina, and Bike Friday Salesguy Tim Link on a Pocket Rocket Pro. Dan, a slightly built Fillipino-American from Santa Cruz, is popularly known as the guy whose brake pads remain unused after 1 year of die-another-day riding.
Throughout the week, the fastest Bike Fridays formed pace lines to demonstrate that size doesn't matter: The Scholz Brothers, Dan Fallorina, Steve Smith, Anne Shaw, Candy Walker, salesguys Stephen Strickland and Tim Link, and Kendal Wilson, who complained that he came along to smell the roses rather than burn rubber but judging from his average speed, simply couldn't help himself. Anyway, anyone who buys a Dura Ace Pocket Rocket Pro with close ratio gears and says they want to smell the roses is lying.
I even managed to cling on for short periods and soon discovered that more gain, less pain is about finding the group that rides at your pace, hanging in with them and drafting. Since a little wheel allows you to draft closer, a BF pace line of even slowish riders becomes a pretty efficient 'pocket rocket' unto itself.
At pow-wow, Manfred Schwoch and Steve Smith, both experienced riders and racers respectively, talked about cadence. This is a topic that many touring or recreational cyclists usually turn a deaf ear to, assuming it's not relevant or beneficial to us. Manfred explain the error in this thinking.
Tourists usually grind away inefficiently at whatever pace they can. Learning to ride at a good cadence builds the skills and strength that benefits all riding-commuting, touring, racing. In short, when a hill approaches, gear down and start spinning, revving even a little more so as get a good start.
Don't leave a granny gear for last. You'll never have a low enough granny gear. Just shift to the lowest gear to effect a good cadence. Which is 'Think of the Can-Can,' said Steve. 'Whatever pace that is - somewhere around 90 - is just right.'
Copyright 2003, Lynette Chiang. All rights reserved.
