on cages, and liberation therefrom.

In the cyclist's jargon file, an automobile is often refered to as a cage, and one who drives an automobile is a cager. It is an interesting play on the roles of ownership, for if one is in a cage, then one is obviously confined, restricted, without liberties. The cage contains its captive. The captive does not own its cage; it is subject to it and inferior to it. The Cars R Coffins group elaborates on this line of thought.

Automobilers though immediately regain some control when they are called cagers. A cager must be "one who cages," or one who drives a cage. Now the driver again has some ownership of the car.

However you chose to look at it though, the implication is obvious that riding a bicycle is liberating. 

And it truly is.

A lot of Pirsig's comments on quality, as it pertains to his motorcycle rides, apply directly to bicycling.

One begins to measure "good time" with an emphasis on "good" and not "time."

And, possibly most importantly, by losing the barrier between you and your environment, you seamlessly become part of your environment. Without the windshield in front, the roof overhead, and the doors on your sides, you are no longer merely passing through. Feeling the wind on your face and smelling the aromas around you make you feel like a participant in the symphony of your surroundings, not just a guest, or a visitor trying to get from point A to point B.

It makes your trips and commutes feel purposeful and intentional. It's mindful commuting, in the tradition of Buddhist mindfulness.

So it often does feel like when I talk about bicycling, what I'm actually doing is talking about weather. But that's okay because a large part of cycling is weather, and being mindful of it and participating in it and embracing it.

And all over the world, strangers talk only about the weather.  

-Tom Waits, strange weather

But speaking of weather, I think this kind of two day combination may come to typify Denver for me: lethal amounts of ice, snow, and wind on Monday; clear, sunny, and 50 degrees on Tuesday.

That kind of severe variation isn't healthy or stable. Denver weather has Dissociative Identity Disorder.

the velosophy of fixies

The other day I was riding through town, and I noticed that I was making unusually heavy use of both my shifters and my brakes. I thought to myself, "Man, I don't drive my car like this. Why am I biking like this? I should relax."

And so I did. I settled into a generally managable gear and remained there for most of the remainder of the ride. I paid attention to the lights, planned ahead, adjusted my pace where neccessary, and generally used my brakes less.

And I found myself thoroughly enjoying my ride.

This lead me to a large insight, similar to the one I had when I discovered that pedaling hard and fast the whole way to work got me there sweaty, and only about four minutes earlier than pedaling at a slower, more reasonable, get-to-work-without-getting-all-sweaty pace.

My insights into what is for "better riding" seem to be leading me towards riding slower and smarter. Or, to borrow from Pirsig, when focusing on making Good Time, to focus on the good, and not time.

So my rules for good riding seem to be this.

1. Shift less.

2. Brake less.

My original insight into slowing down and not trying to sprint to your destination doesn't have to be explicitely mentioned, because you'll have to anyway while observing these rules. Observing these rules allowed me to make my "No Foot Down" ride Saturday morning.

So if shifting less and braking less makes for a better ride, then is it true that, once you're ready for it, single-speed, fixed-gear bikes, bynot allowingfor shifting or, optionally, braking,make for the best rides?

I have traditionally balked at the thought of riding a fixie, but am now considering it. There is, I admit, something very appealing about a bicycle stripped down to it's most basic and pure form. I get that.

I couldn't be convinced to give up my Schwinn for commuting and for long rides, but I believe I could be convinced to take up a fixie for joy-rides around town.