I don’t often ride in purpose-made cycling clothes anymore. This isn’t a political statement as much as a statement of personal preference; I simply no longer have a desire or need to wear specialized gear. And while I think there may be some merit to the idea that people riding bikes in street clothes present a positive image of bicycling to the general public, I certainly don’t look down on those who choose to wear cycling-specific clothing. I suppose when it comes down to it, I’m pretty much neutral on the Cycle Chic versus Lycra question.

My routine in the winter and spring is to wear my work clothes and simply layer up over the top with various wool or fleece vests and coats. It’s usually cold enough when I leave for work in the morning, and I ride slow enough on my inbound commute, that I’m not concerned about perspiration. As the year progresses and the weather warms, I shed layers until I’m down to just a shirt and slacks in the spring.

When the temps approach triple digits in the summer, I switch over to a garment swapping routine that puts me in progressively lighter and cooler clothing as the day warms. On the morning commute while it’s still relatively cool, I wear slacks and a loose shirt (this could be a tech-T or a lightweight wool shirt ); then, when I arrive at the office I clean up and change into a work appropriate shirt; and for the ride home, I swap the slacks for a pair of lightweight, breathable shorts. On the few days of the year when we’re actually in triple digits, the work clothes are packed from the start and it’s shorts and a breathable shirt on both the inbound and outgoing legs of the commute – this is a close as I get to wearing full-on performance clothing.

We’re fortunate to have such mild weather here in NorCal; by mixing-and-matching the “normal” clothes in our closet (for us that’s a mix of cotton street clothes and all-purpose, REI-style “outdoor” clothing), we’re able to stay comfortable on the bike throughout the year.

What about you? Do you wear specialized, bike-specific clothing on your commute, or do you just wear the street clothes that are already hanging in your closet?

I have a suspicion that many people would enjoy their bikes more if they went to slightly larger cross-section tires and ran them at lower pressures than what they’re accustomed to. I typically ride at least 32mm tires for commuting and general utility riding, and I’ll often go up to over 40mm. Of course, the clearance around the fork and chainstays, as well as rim width, place limits on tire size. But still, I often see relatively narrow tires mounted on bikes that would accept wider rubber. And there’s nothing that says you have to pump your tires to the max pressure listed on the sidewall. I’ll often run my tires at 20% under the recommended max pressure to soften the ride; you’d be amazed how much this improves the comfort of any bike. If you’re running small cross-section, high pressure tires, you might be pleasantly surprised by the improvement in ride quality you’ll get from a wider tire run at lower pressure.

Rivendell has an excellent tire recommendation chart that breaks tire choice down by road surface and rider weight/load. View the chart here.

We’ve had triple digit (or close to it) weather for the past week or so, but we’re looking forward to a forecasted cooling trend as we head into the weekend. This morning was absolutely perfect with temps in the mid-60s and a cool breeze out of the south. I have to admit, once the temps hit 100F+ my interest in bicycling withers. If I had to choose between near-freezing temps or high heat, I’d take the cold weather every time (those of you who regularly ride in extreme conditions can pipe in now and make fun of us weather-wimp Californians ;-)). I’m curious; given a choice, would you choose high heat or freezing temps for your commute?

Typically, if someone asks me how many spokes I recommend for city riding, I usually say 36 for the rear wheel and 32 for the front. For many years I rode mostly on 36/36 handbuilt wheels and I can’t recall ever needing to even true a wheel. In recent years I’ve had a couple of bikes with 32/32 production wheels, and the fact is, those wheels stayed perfectly true as well. Of course, the fact that a wheel is well-built has more bearing on its durability than the number of spokes.

What’s required of a wheel varies dramatically based upon the rider’s weight and how much cargo is being carried on the bike, but at least for riders of average stature carrying typical commute loads, it may be time to drop my recommendation down to a 32 spoke minimum for the rear wheel.

I’m curious to hear from you. How many spokes do you run for commuting and city riding? Have you had issues with wheels that have 32 spokes or less?

I enjoy taking the occasional detour onto a dirt trail this time of year. Most are too muddy in the winter, and they’re chock full of thorns on the summer, but in the spring and fall I find it a nice diversion to do a little off-pavement commuting away from the distractions of dog walkers, roller bladers, and automobiles.

How about you? Does your commute provide any opportunities for a little dirt riding?

We took a casual ride over to a favorite restaurant for lunch today and along the way I couldn’t help but notice how much more courteous the drivers were being than usual. In two cases, drivers sitting at side streets waiting for us to pass actually put their cars in reverse and backed up a couple of feet to clearly signal that they weren’t going to pull in front of us. Neither needed to move out of the way; the moves were clearly a sign of courtesy.

When we arrived at the restaurant, I asked Michael, “Did you notice that?” She unhesitatingly responded with, “It’s the dress.” Her matter-of-fact response surprised me. Perhaps I’m just clueless, but I had no idea a person’s manner of dress on a bike could have such a noticeable effect on motorist behavior. Both of us were wearing sandals and riding upright bikes, which may have contributed to the overall picture.

We may be making some assumptions here, but Michael is 100% convinced that how she dresses affects how motorists respond to her. Whether or not this was the reason behind the courteous drivers we encountered today, one thing’s for sure; I never get that kind of treatment when I’m geared-up on my “serious” commuter bike. Who knows, perhaps there’s more to the British passing clearance study than I thought.

How about you? Have you found that how you dress affects how motorists respond to you?

Since we’ve been discussing drivetrains, I thought it would be fun and interesting to set up a poll to see what types of set-ups our readers are running. I can’t possibly list every drivetrain combination out there, but I’ll hit the major (and a few minor) categories; feel free to elaborate in the comments.

Civia Loring Fender

Honjo Fender

Planet Bike Fender

Civia Bryant Fender

Brompton Fender

How about you? Do you run fenders on your transpo bikes? If so, do you leave them on all year or do you remove them during the dry season?

OK, I’ll admit I have an irrational fondness for well-designed kickstand plates. It’s just that I’ve had to fuss and fight with clamp-on kickstands for too many years, and because I depend upon them nearly every day, a solid interface between the frame and kickstand is a big deal to me. As a matter of fact, not so long ago right here on this blog I vowed to never buy another bike without a kickstand plate. Call me weird, but this wasn’t an insignificant factor in my decision to go with my new Civia and its turbo kickstand plate with integrated fender mount and slots for control cables on both sides (check out the design process that went into its development here).

How about you? Do you feel a kickstand plate is a necessary part of a purpose-built commuting/utility frame or is this just much ado about nothing?

The great response to our “Refurbs” post from the other day has me wondering how many of our readers are riding older bikes as their primary commuter. This calls for a poll… :-)

I keep having this thought that it’s time to consider a new commuter project bike, perhaps built around a steel frame like a Civia Bryant with an Alfine 11 IGH. It would be a fun project to document here on the blog, plus I’d learn some things in the process. The thing is, every time I think about selling my good ol’ LHT, I take pause and reconsider. I’ve got the bike sooo dialed in, and there’s really nothing I’d change at this point (save, perhaps, the addition of a hub generator), so I’m finding it very difficult to part with. Keeping it while adding another bike is pretty much out of the question at this time, both for financial reasons and a lack of space. And in any case, the bikes would be wholly redundant and I’m not one for more bikes for the sake of more bikes (I know, weird, huh?).

For fun, I thought I’d put it out there to my readers. Should I stay with the LHT and continue on with the process of refinement, or should I sell it and start from scratch with a new project bike? Just to be clear, I’m very interested in your input, but I still have to make my own decision on this one, regardless of the outcome of the poll. Many thanks!

While we’re at it, we might as well see how folks feel about those other nerdy bikes, recumbents. So, let’s ask the same question. How about you? Would you feel self-conscious riding a recumbent bicycle? Does the look of a recumbent turn you off or would you feel comfortable riding a bike on which you lean back into a seat? (I’m talking purely self-image here, not practical reasons related to bike design.)

PS – I rode recumbents for years, so I’ve earned the right to call them “nerdy”. —Alan

I get the feeling that one of the main reasons folding bikes aren’t more popular among urban bike commuters is the fact that they look different than “normal” bicycles (I’ve actually had people comment that they look like “those little bicycles bears ride in the circus”… LOL). After figuring out how incredibly useful they are for city riding and multi-modal commuting, I no longer see them as “weird” or “nerdy” at all. In fact, when I see a person on a nice folder, my gut reaction is one of admiration for the wise and enlightened choice they’ve made.

I’m not saying folding bikes are the end all, but they’re certainly powerful tools that would probably be much more widely used if they didn’t so strongly go against the grain of what we intuitively think of as “bike”. I suspect this is the same reason recumbents have never gained in popularity past their measly 0.5% of market share.

What about you? Assuming you had the need for one, would you feel self-conscious riding a folding bike? Does the look of tiny wheels turn you off or would you feel comfortable riding a bike with 16″ wheels? (I’m talking purely self-image here, not practical reasons related to bike design.)

I really like messenger bags for quick trips to the grocery store, library, or coffee shop when I’m just carrying a few small items. They’re convenient and quick, and I almost always have one hanging near the door to grab on the way out when needed.

On the other hand, for commuting, weekly shopping excursions, or any trip that involves transporting a larger quantity of heavier items, I prefer to carry the load on the bike. For smaller commuting loads I carry everything in a single rear convertible pannier such as an Arkel Bug or Ortlieb Downtown. For even larger loads, I prefer to balance the weight between a pair of rear panniers and a front porteur rack.

How about you? Do you carry your commute load in a messenger bag or backpack, or do you prefer to carry the load on the bike?

I have friends who put their bikes on a regular maintenance schedule just like a car, with X number of miles indicating a hub repacking, Y number of miles indicating a headset rebuild, and so on. In fact, the League of American Bicyclists published just such a maintenance schedule (from the League’s “Bicycle USA” magazine via the Seattle Bicycle Club’s website):

Wow, that’s a helluva schedule. I wish I could say I’m that diligent and organized, but I’m much more reactive in my maintenance routines. I’m on a regular 400-mile chain re-waxing schedule, but beyond that, it’s pretty much a squirt of oil here and there after a washing, and a hub, bottom bracket, or headset repacking once a decade whether it’s needed or not… ;-) I’m not recommending this approach, but mostly, I attend to things when they squeak, fray, rattle, or break.

I sometimes unknowingly pay the price for my nonchalant methods. For example, I recently planned on replacing the brakes on one of my bikes, but the retrofit went south for various reasons that I won’t go into here, so while I had the old brakes off, I gave them an overhaul. Nothing serious, just cleaning the posts and bushings, greasing the posts, oiling the other moving parts, taking up some cable slack, adjusting the springs, and putting everything back in place. Wow, what an improvement. I didn’t realize what I’d been missing because of my lackadaisical maintenance habits. Makes me wonder what else is in need of attention (probably my hubs and headset).

Of course, it’s possible to over do it. I had a friend years ago who repacked the grease in every bearing race on his bike about once a month (this was in Seattle during the winter, so it wasn’t completely insane). He was always having trouble with bearing adjustments, stripped cone nuts, etc. All that tweaking and adjusting ended up being harder on his bike than if he’d just left it alone.

Like so many things in life, it seems the solution here is balance; something between obsessive tinkering and total neglect. I’m not sure if I’m ready for the obsessiveness of the LAB schedule posted above, but perhaps I need to move just a little further in that direction.

How about you, do you maintain your bike on a strict maintenance schedule, or do you use more of a reactive approach?