I'm In Love With My...

My track record in love relationships is, to put it charitably, spotty.

Now my road and trail records are another story.

All right, that last sentence was yet another of my many lame attempts at cycling humor.  

About my relationships:  They seem to have a four-year lifespan--you know, like a Presidential term.  I found out that one of my paramours was a Republican, but that isn't what ended our liaison.

Nor did cycling.  In fact, of everyone with whom I've been involved, she was the only one who had any sort of passion for cycling.  Though hers didn't quite match mine, I didn't have to use my powers of persuasion (Yes, go ahead and laugh!) to get her to accompany me for a spin.  In fact, more than a few times, she initiated the ride and I went along.

But, my other partners--including my former spouse--had little or no enthusiasm for cycling.  The ex-cohabitant would go for a ride with me every now and again and, at one point, even wanted a bike of her own, which I bought for her. (It wasn't a gift for any particular occasion.) And when I wanted to go on a longer ride, by myself or "with the guys", we'd agree upon a day--usually Saturday--and she would spend time with the friends of hers I didn't like.

So I can't say cycling broke us up.  In fact, my riding wasn't a factor in any of my other break-ups, not even with the girlfriend (ironically, my first after my divorce) who'd never ridden a bike in her life and had no wish to get in the saddle.   (That, honestly, was a "rebound" relationship for both of us, and we both knew it.)  And then there was the boyfriend who rode with me once, and we never talked about cycling again.  Even he, as possessive as he was, at least knew that I needed a Day of Riding (Yes, it became official, more or less.) every week during the season and once or twice a month during the off-season, as weather permitted.

I guess I've been relatively lucky:  Other cyclists have told me that their riding--and the time they spend working on their bikes and shopping for parts and accessories--had something or a lot to do with the end of their relationships and even marriages.

So it was for a man in Istanbul who was identified as Burak Z.  His wife, identified as Yagmur Z., said his obsession with his bicycle damaged her mental health and left their marriage in shambles.  She has filed for divorce and is seeking 400,000 Turkish lira (about 106,000 USD) in damages.  

Instead of spending time with her, she says, he works on his machine.  He sets it up in the living room, she alleges, and cleans and fixes it daily.  "This is no ordinary attachment, he is literally in love with his bike," she explained.

I couldn't help but to think of one of the most deliriously funny songs on what is probably Queen's most deliberately campy album, Night At The Opera. 



Just substitute "bike" for "car" and the names of bike parts for the names of car parts, and the song would work for some of us.

Seriously, though:  He didn't pay attention to her.  He paid attention to his bike instead.  Now he'll have to pay her.  As much as we love our bikes, we have to remember that we can't fix our relationships with people in the same way we patch our tubes or adjust our derailleurs! 

A Rim, Maybe. A Whole Wheel...

Mavic introduced its alloy rims in 1920.  Until then, cyclists had two choices in rim material--steel or wood.  Most, of course, opted for the latter because it is much lighter.  

Interestingly, alloy rims were banned from the Tour de France until 1934, when Antonin Magne rode a pair of Mavics that were painted in wood colors.  His secret wasn't revealed, of course, until after he won the race.  Then, Mavic duraluminum rims became a staple of the peloton.  

As alloy rims became lighter and more durable, other riders, from road racers to tourists, used them because they worked better and lasted longer than wood rims when used with caliper brakes.  Track racers, however, don't use brakes and continued to ride wood rims until the 1950s, when they were banned because they tended to shatter--sending splinters flying hither and thither--when crashed.  Such mishaps were all the more likely on track wheels, which are tensioned tighter and ridden with the highest-pressure tires.

I have ridden wooden rims and enjoyed their resilient yet responsive ride.  I had to wonder, though, how much of that "feel" had to do with the tubular tires that were glued to the rims. (You pretty much have to ride tubulars if you ride wooden rims!)  I would never buy them, though, because just about all of my riding these days (even on my fixed gear) is done with brakes and because wooden rims have to be treated with more TLC than metal or carbon-fiber rims.

One thing I haven't seen is a whole wheel made of wood.  That is, until I came across this:

Investment In Cycling In The Equality State?

Wyoming is the least populated state in the US. As a New Yorker, my perspective is that The Equality State has barely more people than Staten Island, the least populated of the Big Apple's five boroughs. And only Alaska is more sparsely populated.

Why is Wyoming nicknamed "The Equality State"?  Well, in 1869--twenty-one years before it became a state, and fifty-one years before the  Nineteenth Amendment was passed--the then-territory of Wyoming became the first government in the world to give women the right to vote.  The reasons for this have long been debated, but almost everyone seems to agree that one motivation was that Wyoming's legislators wanted their territory to become a state and, because there were so few people, women's votes were necessary to get Congress to consider the territory for statehood.

Cheyenne resident Dave Flores riding in his hometown.

But I digress.  Wyoming's stunning vistas and open spaces mean that people travel great distances for work, school or almost anything else in their lives.  So, getting the state to invest in bike or pedestrian lanes can't be the easiest "sell" in the world.  And that is what the Bicycle and Pedestrian System Task Force is telling the state to do.  

Although people often vacation in, or even move to, places like Wyoming because they believe the environment is pristine, there are environmental problems  not found in the larger, denser coastal cities.  Like neighbors Colorado and Montana, much of the state lies two kilometers or more above sea level.  Since the air is thinner at such high altitudes, it doesn't take very many vehicles to pollute the air. (Denver has some of the worst smog of major American cities.)  So, perhaps, Wyoming needs to encourage people to walk and cycle as much as, or more than, even Los Angeles--especially if more people decide to move there and enjoy its "rustic" charms.