Stupid Hurts

I was thinking to myself. After having another pleasant night ruined by a seizure.

I have a boss who will not schedule because he thinks I am not medically fit to my job, and a doctor who agrees with him. Isn’t that the very definition of being disabled. I really need to follow up with someone on that on that Monday.

With the biggest smile on his face Stryder broke my glasses the night before last. Unfortunately just earlier that day during an impulse purchase I spent all of my money on an industrial sewing machine, and getting my current sewing machine tuned up. Thanks to the buyers remorse coupled with the fact I can’t exactly see, I haven’t really felt like finishing up any of my current sewing sewing projects.

Since glasses are one of only my real vanities I am putting them off until I can get exactly the pair I want. Which means I will need $400-600 dollars. (Which is unfortunate, because the parts I need to get my road bike street worth again will cost me just about that much.) Originally the eye Dr. was trying take the cost effective route and fit me for a pair of contacts that didn’t compensate for my astigmatism, but when we realized I couldn’t read. I vetoed that option fairly quickly and got the more expensive lenses. I wanted to avoid a post to my site that involved me plowing my bike into a car……Again.

Unfortunately I missed it this time.
But you can get an idea of what it is like to ride with 200-300 other cyclist in downtown Atlanta thanks to this video.

fdisk003 - Critical Mass Atlanta [April 08] from fdisk on Vimeo.

They occur once a month on the last Friday of the month at 6pm at Woodruff park. Look for the HUGE mass of bikes!

An article was published about the Co-op I volunteer at when time permits. A picture of me was also published, in a P&D swords shirt no less.

Original article here
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

ajc.com > Living
Non-profit bike shop gets cyclists in gear

By JAMIE GUMBRECHT
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 04/21/08

It was a frigid night in late 2004 when the lights went out on a potluck dinner of frustrated bicycle enthusiasts. Brothers Jay and Stewart Varner and their friend Rachael Spiewak had posted fliers inviting bikers to Jay’s house in Reynoldstown, not realizing that 60 people would pack the living room and turn the porch into a parking lot.

Even in the darkness of a power outage, “there was so much momentum and excitement that nobody wanted to go home,” said Spiewak, a 26-year-old bike rider who lives in Poncey-Highland.

So in flickers of bike safety lamps, they sought ideas and answers. How to introduce biking to more people? How to get more bikes on the road in Atlanta? How to make biking safe?

The result was SoPo Bicycle Co-op, a nonprofit bike shop and maintenance space in East Atlanta. In 12 hours each week, it offers bicycle education to daredevilish kids bored with TV, young adult commuters who can’t afford cars, middle-aged parents remembering how to pedal and retirees who want a workout.

And it all started with a crank puller.

Jay bought the $40 tool one summer when he got around town primarily on a dilapidated bike. (Technically, the Varner brothers, who grew up in Dalton, share their mother’s non-working 1984 Volvo wagon, but even expensive bike repair is cheaper than car repair, they say.) Crank pullers are needed once a year, maybe less often. Nobody should ever have to buy this part again, the brothers decided. Wouldn’t it be cool to have a big tool drawer and share it with other riders?

The question was answered a few months later by the crowd in Jay’s darkened living room. Potlucks became planning groups, networking events and on-site neighborhood bike repair. Spiewak and Jay’s living and dining rooms briefly became a bike shop, where the roommates woke to bike parts strewn on furniture and all-hours maintenance requests.

As demand grew, they found a space for the shop: a $325-per-month concrete room in the alley behind the Australian Bakery on Flat Shoals Avenue. An artist worked with local kids to produce a bright, bike-filled mural. Donations of wheels, tires, frames, clips, cranks, pumps and wrenches poured in.

“We added a few tools to the drawer,” Jay said. “And by drawer, I mean shop.”

SoPo — South of Ponce, or “so poor we can’t afford a car” — is plagued by typical nonprofit troubles: too many ideas but not enough time, volunteers or money. It runs on donated cash and parts, with shared labor and knowledge, like the Wikipedia of bike maintenance.

One Saturday in April, a woman shopping for a bicycle wondered, can a 10-speed be made into a 21-speed?

The question volleyed to Spiewak, who bounced it to Jay. With no conviction but plenty of enthusiasm, Jay said “sure,” until Dana Scott, 60, a volunteer who hasn’t owned a car in 15 years, stepped in with an explanation.

The final answer: Maybe. Let’s find out.

Plenty of SoPo repairs and updates start that way. Volunteers and regulars are stumped often, especially by gadgetry from the last couple of years. They rely on books or the all-knowing-but-not-always-correct Internet for answers, then use on-site tools and parts for repairs.

“You don’t take the wrench out of their hands,” said volunteer John St. Louis, a 17-year-old student at Paideia School. “I learned a lot since coming here — how to fix, how to learn, how to teach.”

SoPo co-founders say it’s not unusual for someone to wheel in a dusty, half-working bike only to pedal away with a serviceable bicycle hours later. A few dozen people, many of them regulars, come by during each session.

At Critical Mass, a monthly downtown bike ride, Spiewak used to see only about 30 people.

“Now it’s 300 and I know exactly where some of their bikes came from,” she says.

Organizers say they try to make SoPo a safe learning environment for everyone, from reluctant-but-curious riders to those without cash to buy brand new. The logo, a puffy RoboSheep with wheels for feet, was chosen because it’s memorable, gender-neutral and nonthreatening. (So “cute” that the co-founders are tattooed with it, but not so cute that the Varners’ mom has seen the ink.)

Atlanta City Councilmember Natalyn Mosby Archibong said the organization fit easily into the community by attracting different age groups with an environmental, healthy, economical solution to transportation.

“Sometimes [alternative transportation] is an afterthought and it needs to be at the forefront,” Archibong said. “With gas prices becoming more expensive than gold bullion, I think they’re on track.”

On a rainy Saturday afternoon in the co-op parking lot, SoPo regular Jonathan Gaerlan and 12-year-old Dameion Johnson picked out parts and rebuilt brakes under the watchful eyes of SoPo volunteers. (Brakes, it turns out, are something worth checking twice.)

“I put new stuff on it every time I come,” Dameion said of the blue bicycle he rides to school. “If I didn’t know this place was right here, my bike wouldn’t even be fixed right now.”

The pair turned the final screws and Gaerlan announced the bike was ready for stopping. Dameion pedaled off with his friends; Gaerlan donated cash to cover the shop time and tool use and turned to his own SoPo-ized bike.

He said he gave up cars shortly after he moved to Atlanta six months ago. He fell in love with the city from the seat of his bike. He painted it black, swapped in a two-toned chain and added a bell that’s become his signature sound.

“It was a safe, functional bicycle,” said Gaerlan, 24. “Now it’s getting the way I want it.”

And there’s SoPo’s answer to problems pondered by bike lamp in a Reynoldstown living room: Help people make their bikes safe and build them as they want, and they will ride.

Before you bike

Don’t yank that old, forgotten bike out of the garage and expect to pedal away in minutes. Before you ride, SoPo bike volunteers recommend you put your bike through an ABC Quick Check. (If you’re not comfortable doing it at home, most bike shops sell tune-up services or SoPo volunteers will guide riders through the process.)

A is for air. Check the tire pressure and inflate to the proper level. If the tire treads or sidewalls are damaged, tires might need to be replaced.

B is for brakes. If the brake lever hits the handle before the bike stops, brakes must be tightened. If less than 1/4-inch of brake pads remain, it’s time to replace.

C is for cables, cranks and chains. Adjust cables when you check brakes. Make sure nothing wobbles when you pedal; if necessary, lube the crank threads. Make sure the chain isn’t stretched, and carefully oil with one drop for each link.

Q is for quick release. If your bike has quick releases, make sure they’re tight and nothing will catch on them.

R is for run a quick check. Nothing should feel shaky, loose or out of your control. “You probably know more than you think you do,” says SoPo bikes co-founder Rachael Spiewak. “If you’ve been riding your bike and something feels wrong, it’s probably wrong.”

Source: SoPo Bike Co-op and League of American Bicyclists

About SoPo

SoPo Bicycle Co-op is at 465-C Flat Shoals Ave. in Atlanta. It’s open 7-10 p.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays and 2-5 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. For more information, contact 404-425-9989 or info@sopobikes.org. Information about volunteering, donating and maintenance also is available at www.sopobikes.org.

The Bicycle Frame Show, an art show that benefits SoPo, features 37 bike frames decorated by local artists. It’s on display at Radial Cafe, 1530 DeKalb Ave. in Atlanta. Any unsold frames will be auctioned off during a closing reception 7-11 p.m. April 26.
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For more bike advocacy information, check out these organizations’ Web sites.

• Atlanta Bicycle Campaign, http://atlantabike2.org

• Critical Mass, www.criticalmassatlanta.org

• Georgia Bikes, www.georgiabikes.org

• The League of American Bicyclists, www.bikeleague.org

No sooner than the stage manager said this as if on cue.

RING! Rinnng!

SInce I have moved to [tag]Atlanta[/tag], the past few weeks have definitely lacked casual socialization. That plus my recent trip to the hospital and the fact I almost passed out at work the next day, my friends suggested I cancel the race I was throwing Friday night. Surprisingly I listened for a change, most people who know me, know I just would have called a spotter to peel me off the sidewalk and raced anyway.

So I moved some plans around and spent a quiet night watching [tag]Moby[/tag]-[tag]Dick[/tag] on stage at Kennesaw State with Anna. I really enjoyed myself, it was nice to just sit back and consume the performances of the actors in an environment a little quieter than a bar for a change. I am kinda glad I wasn’t allowed to take my camera. I found when I have it I sometimes zone out everything else and start focusing on composition and light and that sorta thing and I would not have been able to enjoy the show as much.

After eating lunch earlier that day with one of Atlanta’s more interesting social groups. I have learned, that thanks in part to the internet, there is a group that meets somewhere for everything. Some are a little more insular than others, and I probably won’t get accepted by most of them since I don’t dress like any of them, but I am surprisingly ok with that. The dues for the furry bowling league are surprisingly high.

Lastly, before I left work on thursday, A guy walked in with a busted unicycle. He was in from out of state, and only in town for the week representing his college for a robotics competition. Somehow he had managed to strip the threads on one of his crank arms. Not being a common issue, it isn’t the the sort of part we keep in stock or can order on short notice. But I have a spare set on a [tag]unicycle[/tag] at the bike co-op I plan on picking up to polish and swap out for mine when I get time So I tried to send him there to pick those up, I also tried to give him directions the local jugglers guild (yeah there is one) but I don’t think that worked out to well. It is just wild to see someone walk in with a unicycle. I really want to meet the person whose uni has been hanging up behind my work bench for a new tire for the past week and a half.
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It is one to wake up, not recognize the ceiling, and then look over and see a cute girl wrapped around your arm. It is completely different to wake up, not recognize the ceiling and have a blood pressure cuff wrapped around your arm……again.

I was on my [tag]fixed[/tag] [tag]gear[/tag] chasing one of my co-workers home from work when I had another [tag]seizure[/tag] while riding and passed out. I am not sure how long I was out for or what happened really, but when I regained consciousness I was surrounded by EMT’s and firefighters…….again

The [tag]firefighters[/tag] kept my bicycle due to the fact there was no space in the [tag]ambulance[/tag] for it so I have to go pick it up at some point soon. While filling out paperwork on the side of the ride I had to explain.
“Yes, I ride with no brakes.”
“Yes, it stops.”

Actually, one of the coolest parts when I answered the phone while en-route to the hospital and it was one of the local bike messengers calling to see if I was ok because he had already heard what happened.

After three hours in the hospital I got the same thing I always get.
“You seem fine, give us money, go home.”
I didn’t pay, but I did leave.

News of what happened got back to family fairly quickly. Several of my family members want me to give up cycling until my medical issues are sorted out. Considering that it has been 8-9 months at this point with no resolution, and I value what little personal freedom I have. I didn’t take the request all that well. I am more than a little depressed right now and I have had a very long day.

I ambled up to the registration point trying my best to affect my usual cocky swagger.
“Is this where I register for the Rwanda alleycat?“
”Yeah, but ummmm, you can’t walk.“ Pointing out the fact I had limped up to the place they were sitting, and that I was currently leaning all of my weight on my bike.
”It is ok this isn’t not a foot race.“
”Ok sign the waiver“
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At first I was going to pass on this race due to the torn leg muscle in my left leg thats been giving me grief for the past week or so. But when I got to the start point and started listening to people talk strategy I couldn’t pass on a chance to ride hard. I got out and soon got past the pain, and I was reminded why I love doing this. For the first three check points I paced the guys who would go on to place 1st and 2nd. I think I threw the race away for myself because the guy who came in first ran away from while I was getting my manifest signed at a check point and I passed the guy who came in 2nd when he crashed. I think I should have waited for him to get up. Instead I tried to pace someone else who turned out to not be fast enough for me his 16-17mph to my 20-23, which in the end resulted in me being lost by myself in Candler Park. [newline]

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The after party was pretty awesome. In fact that was one of the best burgers someone has grilled for me in a long time. The Octane coffee shop hosted us in their parking lot. My leg was thoroughly trashed by the time I found a chair, and I was lost from being in an unfamiliar part of town. But, I wouldn’t have changed it. [newline]

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Once it got too cold to hangout outside we saddled up and crashed several other parties before calling it a night. So much for proper post race recovery. I actually didn’t get off my bike till 4 a.m.

Now I just have to repair the damage I did to my road bike.
Looking back.

I basically broke my right shifter, and I can’t find one for less than $200

Since the weather is getting nicer, I am going to try to bring back one of the older traditions I heard died out.
I have done alone and I would enjoy doing it with a crowd.

Lets see some Friday night lights!

Where Start: Margaret Mitchell Square (top side of Woodruff park in Downtown)
When Start: we launch @ 12pm next friday night (4/18/08)
Where Going: Corkscrew @ GSU, fly up P’tree, fly down P’tree
Post Ride:FOOD!!!!

I will try to find a prize or something.

I remember lying on my back in the street watching the clouds pass over head and thinking to myself, “how did I end up here?”
After a few minutes of watching a bunny shaped cloud bounce by, I remembered that I was supposed to be learning to unicycle.

Whoever said that falling off of a unicycle doesn’t hurt as much as falling off of a bicycle was a liar. I know this and my back knows this even better. Even after falling off several times today I worked on my free mounts and eventually stuck it. I don’t need a wall anymore.

That initial of shock of, “Holy crap I am riding a unicycle!” Was pretty awesome. And after a bit of practice I can actually make it 10-20 feet now.

Next…Jousting !

Really, should the kid with the seizure disorder have front row at shows two days in a row?

While standing outside of Starbar in Little Five Points trying to figure out how to lock up my unicycle. I realized that in that more or less in the past two days I seen no less than seven smaller indie bands play, and while some of them put on some really great acts. Some of them just killed off what few brain cells I had left. The act from tonight with the motorcycle helmets and dueling drummers were jaw dropping.[newline]

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It also dawned on me, I have eaten lunch with two of the bands I have seen. Cooked and feed the homeless with members from two others bands. That I have managed to offend the members of one band, and fix the bicycles of some guys who are in a band I have never even heard of. All in all, not a band way to end my week.

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Now if i could just find that girl with the cowbell.

Over at an Atlanta cycling based web forum. Faster Mustache. There was an interesting point/counter point discussion on the Critical Mass that occurred Friday. I spoke with my dad who witnessed the San Fran Critical Mass the same day. He spoke of the herd mentality, and how these things can go either really well. or really badly.

First off I love the variety in the cycle culture found in this city.
I just moved here to atl recently, and I have been on my bike every day. Talking to people, riding with people, and visiting bike shops. One thing I have learned is a lot of people have a generally different cycling/more aggressive style than I am used to seeing in other parts of the country. At first when everyone I met had a, “I have been hit by a car,” story I thought it was only drivers, but after a little observation I learned it was just as much our fault as cyclist as theirs as drivers.

The Atlanta CM was an interesting experience for me. I have ridden in cm’s in several different cities and countries. And have gone so far as help organize one, but this was easily one of the largest I have been involved in. Of course when you have this any people on bikes in a herd you have issues. I tried to do my part to do what I could when I could to help cars that were lost in the pack make it to a safe exit point, but with communication being at a premium it proved difficult. Plus the fact I didn’t know any of the other riders it also proved to only make it more difficult. Only while blocking intersections was I able to learn who to talk to to help things flow a little more smoothly. While CM’s don’t have a leader there are those who provide a sort of back bone and structure. I thought while riding some of the side streets that this mass was going great, but once we got to Ponce de leon. It did become painfully obvious why a lot of cyclist say they can’t ride down Ponce alone. And I was able to see just how a large Mass can be harmful to the cyclist/driver interaction in a city. The angry reaction from drivers at the intersection near the Majestic was a perfect example considering the fact we blocked traffic for nearly seven minutes or about 3-4 traffic light cycles.

I noted from several people that this one was a lot more spread out than than usual as well. But watching some of the cyclist involved it would have made me uncomfortable to ride a lot closer to some of them given their skill level. After announcing in a clear loud voice, “On your left,” several people didn’t look or check their blind spots.

Though riding is healthy for the human psyche it cannot cure all ills. All riders carry some weight of diseased spirit. Still, better we ride than vegetate.