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I watched Free Solo on a plane

Free Solo was available on my flight home from Boston last week. I might not have watched it if I wasn’t held captive for six hours, but it was pretty good.

If you don’t know who Alex Honnold is, he’s a super famous rock climber and bike enthusiast.

Some thoughts I had while watching the movie:

  • Holy shit, this makes me so nervous I need chalk to just watch this, my hands are so sweaty.
  • I don’t know if the movie was just edited this way, but his girlfriend seems like a bitch and he needs a more supportive woman in his life.
  • Oh hey that’s my gym! Yay Sacramento Pipeworks!

Honestly, I don’t climb outdoors. I’ve tried, twice. The problem with outdoor climbing is if you fall, you fall onto rock, and if you get injured you’re somewhere with no cell reception that’s miles and miles from the nearest hospital. With indoor climbing, you still get the benefits of being social and building strength but with mitigated risks like padded floors and hospitals that are mere blocks away.

All that said, I just don’t understand indoor cyclists or treadmill runners. I’m sure they would tell me how dangerous it is to cycle or run on the road with cars. And I’d probably tell them that connecting with my environment and being able to travel over an expanse of land under my own power is incredibly satisfying. And I’m sure outdoor climbers would probably tell me the same thing about climbing.

We all take risks for our hobbies, I guess.

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Rebounding with a broken tandem

Let me set the scene: you’re me. You’re the kind of person who has this polyamory joke as one of her Tinder pictures:

For screen readers or if the image breaks, it’s a picture of a bike with the caption “My bicycle is my primary partner.” It’s funny because I spend more time with my bike between my legs than anyone or anything else.
Heh.

So, anyway, you’re me. You’re on tinder. You match with someone who checks all your boxes: smart, funny, athletic, polyamorous, the works. Things are going well until they pull the classic “we’re better off as friends” line.

Oof. Gut punch.

So, naturally, now you need a rebound. Except, instead of finding a one-night-stand on Tinder, you impulsively buy a tandem bicycle. A broken tandem bicycle. I’m sure there’s some symbolism here about desperate rebounds being broken. I’ll also point out that a tandem bicycle needs a second rider, which is also probably some sort of metaphor about polyamory

Anyway, I patched her up and gave her a bath and now I just need to name her and find someone who will ride her with me. Which I guess will send me back to tinder.

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How (and why) to make a ghost bike (and why I hope I never have to)

ghost bike

ghost bikeI was walking along Massachusetts Avenue (or Mass Ave as the locals call it) when I saw this ghost bike.

A lot of non-cyclists don’t know about ghost bikes, but you’ve almost certainly seen one before. When a cyclist dies on their bike, their cyclist friends will create a ghost bike.

Here’s how:

  1. Recover the dead cyclist’s bike (if it’s recoverable from the accident) or obtain another cheap bike.
  2. Spray paint it white. Everything. The spokes, the gears, the chain, the tires. It’s all gotta be white. This makes the bike unusable, so it probably won’t be stolen.
  3. Chain it to a fence, pole, or some other immovable object at or near the site of the cyclist’s death.
  4. (Optional). Add flowers, candles, etc. to the basket or ground around the ghost bike per your mourning customs.

Ghost bikes serve as a memorial for the victim’s friends and family and a warning to living cyclists of dangerous intersections or stretches of rural roads. 

I never like seeing ghost bikes (someone died!) but I do appreciate their existence. It’s nice to be part of a community that has rituals like this.