Dealing with the Newbies

Some of you may have missed the nationwide memo, but gas is expensive.

Which means more people are trying alternative forms of transit. I LOVE that (in theory). Better for the environment, better for health, better for the roads. However...there's a downside.

Caltrain uses two styles of trains: Plastic and Metal. The Plastic bullet trains make about four stops between San Francisco and San Jose, thereby making the trip in 45 minutes. They only fit 16 bikes per train. Then there are huge metal double-decker trains, I call them Warehouse Trains. These make most local stops, it takes them an hour and a half to go the same distance. A warehouse train comfortably fits 40 bikes, but can manage 50 in a pinch. Three weeks ago, gas prices hit 4.65/gallon here. Right around then, instead of Warehouse Trains, we got mostly Plastic Trains. After one time waiting 40 minutes for the next train, I stopped being nice and made sure to be in the front of the line.

I've chatted with a few conductors about the situation. Apparently, 14 of the Warehouse Train's have cracked axles. They have to find a place that can handle welding them back together. Of course, the company that made the trains has gone out of business. It could take the whole summer before they get the missing trains back on line.

Let's make it a math formula (cause I LOVE math): More bikers + Less space = Total chaos.

At this point, I know most of the bike regulars. We nod, chat a bit if the bike is late. Lately, our eyes have been meeting through a sea of new bikers. We shrug and wait for them to figure out how to manage the steps up into the train. Wait while they discuss where they are getting off. Wait while they slowly and carefully fasten their bike in.

Last night, I stood next to my bike, not bothering to fasten it in while three guys did a newbie bike dance in front of me. "Oh, Belmont, well, I'm going to Milbrae, could I put mine behind yours?" Dude, there are yellow plastic tabs you get from the conductor. Put them on your bike and it will tell people where you're going. No one has time for all this chit chat. In four minutes, we would be at my stop. A guy came down from the second level seats. He unfastened the bike ahead of me to the right, then obviously needed to still get his bike which was next in the pile. I kindly held the seat of the first bike so he could have both hands free. One hand on my bike, one on the other. He got his bike and then just moved ahead toward the exit, leaving me helpless. The newbies had finished assembling their bike pile. I asked one of them to fasten the extra bike in for me. He was happy to do so. The guy who'd stranded me looked back and obviously felt bad. Again, I get it. I get the learning curve, I went through it myself. It's just way too much demand on the system right now.

I guess this is what growth pains look like, right? For any organization. If you grow too quickly, you move past the capability of the old-timers to assimilate the newbies properly. Of course, I'd have nothing to whine about if I just sucked it up and biked 8 miles each way, instead of using the train to save me 6 miles . . .

It's HOT

All Together Now
Work picked up again this week, but it's been great. We've had a whole week to brainstorm and work on theme and image solutions for an upcoming show. We have 4 really solid concepts and I'm excited for Tuesday's presentation.

In my job at Science Devices International, my design director constantly made remarks about how I wasn't acting like a senior designer. She wanted me to go off into my cube and come out with The Solution. I've realized that my style is much more collaborative. This week has been perfect. I've had three other people involved who each came up with great concepts. Once I started putting the pieces together, I got other ideas to further what they'd begun. In the end, it's to the entire department's credit, not mine. I like it better that way; plus, the client gets much better options.

On-line hook-up attempts
When we moved here and decided to share a car, it really limited my ability to climb. If I have the car, that means I also have to walk the dog, so I can't head to the gym after work. If I don't have the car, then I have to ride 1-2 miles from the train station to the gym. For over a year, I was ok with not climbing. I waited and hoped that Jrex might decide he'd like nothing better than climbing with me (thus far, nope). Going to Yosemite changed all that. As I watched groups of women with wiry arms pulling gear out of their cars, when I looked up at the most amazing cliffs I've ever seen, while I played around on the rocks every where we hiked, I realized how profoundly I miss it. I discovered that if I don't climb outside while living in California, I will regret it the rest of my life. I try to live without those kinds of regrets, so, I posted an ad on Craigslist so I can meet up with some strangers. Crazy!

I said I was out of shape for climbing, but when I was in shape was doing 5.10's. I've only had three responses, one woman and two men. I did specify that I was married and in my 30's (lest anyone get funny notions). They all sound like great potential partners. The woman is also out of shape and was climbing at a similar level when she was in shape so she's my first choice. She had to cancel on me tonight, but that's fine--it was 106 degrees when I rode my bike to the train--I'd rather just stay home tonight. We've got another time scheduled for next week.

When all the on-line community stuff started happening, before I was a part of it, I thought anyone with an on-line life was a loner. Like they couldn't handle the real world. What I've discovered instead is that it's made my circle much wider than ever before. Since 10th grade, I've been comfortable going up to strangers to start a conversation. This is just a different format.

The Morning Routine

Every morning I hear the horn of the express train and rush around to finish my routine, run downstairs, fling myself on my bike and speed down the long block to the train station. There are five minutes between the express and the local train and I'm always late. CalTrain runs between San Jose and San Francisco. The trains are double-deckers and the bike car is the northernmost car in the train. I stand on the platform panting among the other bikers as the train pulls in. We wait for the passengers to get off, watch seven to ten bikers wrest themselves from the train, wait for Menlo passengers to board, then start lifting our bikes into the train. There are almost always one or two male bikers who try to be polite and let me go ahead. It's a nice gesture, but wastes time. I wave them ahead, "I'm getting off at the next stop, go!" The doors are usually closing as I barely make it into the train.

Tthere is usually a log-jam in the bike train. People try to rack their bikes in reverse order for who is getting off first. I don't even bother to put my bike away, and usually don't even bother to try to get into the bike train at all. I wait in the 'hall' between the two cars and end up chatting with the train conductors. I'm getting to know the ones who are bikers and love to tell me what equipment I should add to my bike, the fun guy who likes to tell me stories of other passengers and the strict ones who don't want to talk at all. I'm often asked why I bother to ride the train, why not bike the whole way? It saves me five miles of riding on one of the busiest roads in the area. Instead I take the train one stop, get off, take back roads through a middle-class Hispanic neighborhood (where a cute 2-bedroom/1-bath goes for 'only' $580,000). I venture onto a busy road for only five-hundred yards and then veer off onto a bike path.

I breathe deep as I pedal along a newly-laid bike path with a national wetland on my right. There's almost always a snowy egret poised over a rivulet waiting to pounce on fish. Various bands of migrating birds paddle through the water or walk with delicate steps through the shallows. This morning a red-wing blackbird sang at me as I passed. Sparrows dart ahead of me and zip through the chain-link fence. It's much easier to start the day after that brief five minute reminder that the world is bigger than me and all the silly deadlines I have at work.

Pride Goeth Before a Fall and Haughty Eyes Before Destruction

I thought of a couple variations on that verse today.

As I rode to work in the rain.

Cause I AM discreet

Last night we had our second supper club. We've formed a group with three other couples to explore new recipes through a once a month dinner.

After dinner, we sat around the living room chatting. Jrex was home sick. The three guys all started comparing notes about biking to work. Wine Aficionado smiled, "Only in warm weather." Another man, who's served two tours in Iraq, declared, "I'm a fair weather biker, as well. It's too cold for me now." Hedonistic Outdoorsman, boasted, "I'm still biking, but last Thursday, I thought, 'this might be my limit'."

I've mentioned that I'm the soul of discretion? The master of my tongue? Known for my silent, loving presence?

I snorted and declared, "You're all a bunch of wusses! I bike every day. It's not too cold. I'll be biking when it rains. Of course, this is also coming from someone who's lived in upstate New York and New England. Compared to that, it doesn't get cold in California."

For some reason that seemed to shut down the conversation. Was it something I said?