Facebook Friday-Riding In Sandals with Flintstone Toes

With a quizzical brow she commented, “You’re riding in sandals?”  While riding my GS45 Super Cruiser (my pet name for my 1992 Specialized Crossroads hybrid equipped with hand-me-down once high-end components like XTR V-brakes), a friend and neighbor was out in front of her house.  I had a few minutes.  Instead of giving her the wave, I stopped to chat.  I brushed off the sandal comment explaining I was headed to Yoga in the Park.  Sandals are easy to kick off for Yoga.  Besides, trying to do Yoga with shoes is as impossible as scuba diving in a tuxedo.  All through my Yoga practice, I couldn’t put my hands to heart center and Namaste it away.  Since then and a second comment from another friend, it’s been niggling me.  What’s wrong with riding in sandals? 

Dear little baby Jesus!  Maybe it’s my freaky toes.  Tell me it’s not my freaky toes.  If you must know these are my piggies.  As you can see, my big toe looks like Fred Flintstone naked.  My pointing toe next door is as tall, thin and twisted as Amy Winehouse on crack and my pinky toe and his neighbor are about the size of large cashews.  Thanks for the freak toes Dad.  I wonder.  Was her comment my friend’s way of saying sandals should be only reserved for people with perfect ducks in a row toes.  Maybe I need a pedi…or a plastic surgeon. 

I’m guessing it’s an old wives tale.  Don’t eat before you swim, don’t feed the Mogwai after midnight and never ever, under any circumstances wear sandals while cycling.  Like the Gremlins movie quote, when exactly is “after midnight” and what exactly is wrong with biking in sandals.  I mean besides having Gremlin toes.  One advantage I’ve found, opposed to wearing skater shoes, is you can more easily wrap your toes around the platform to get more power to the pedals, especially helpful with Cincinnati’s hills.  Secondly, you won’t burn your ankle on the imaginary muffler.

For me, wearing sandals comes down to convenience and minimalism.  That’s what riding a city bike is all about, getting from point A to point B with as little hastle as possible.  When I commute the 5-6 miles to work on the GS45, I don’t put on my team kit.  I don’t wear gloves, bring a water bottle or carry a lock.  I wear jeans, a collared shirt and loafers.  Really the only cycling related thing I wear is a helmet.  My main goal is getting to work without sweating.  Believe it or not, I ride ridiculously slow.  I park the bike in my office, take off my helmet, finger feather the helmet hair away and I’m ready to go.  It’s a beautifully simple thing.  You wear on the bike what you want to be wearing when you get there.  With a city bike it’s not about the ride.  It’s about the destination. 

Still I’m confounded by the sandal comment.  So, I put the question to you.  Now and then we ask our Facebook friends a question and post the comments here on Fridays.  We call it Facebook Friday.  If you’d like to participate, friend us in the right hand column and follow us. 

Today’s Facebook Friday question was:  “Is it an old wives tale?  Is there inherent danger?  What’s the issue with riding in sandals?”

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    David R: Getting beat up by the bike fashion police.
    

    
    
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    Tim W: That's an old wive's tale. Someone (Teva?) made some SPD capable sandals a few years back, IIRC.
    

    
    
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    Jason G: Aside the obvious danger to scraping the shit outta your feet in a crash or even a curb strike, you would to shave your toes and feet too.
    

    
    
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    Mitchell B: Way back when I was a kid, I nearly scraped my toe to the bone when I crashed wearing sandals! Severe toe road rash! Not fun!
    

    
    
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    Mark H: If it feels good, do it.
    Fly that freak flag high.
    Shimano makes a clipless sandal.
    Here is my rule: Sandals are okay; Thongs, no way!
    

    
    
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    Cameron P: Shimano and Lake both sell cycling sandals. I doubt it's too dangerous.

Facebook Friday! You Look Like You Could Use A Beer And Other Things Shouted At You On A Ride

It’s Facebook Friday on The Best Bike Blog Ever*.  This week’s topic sure put a thorn in your chamois and resulted in the most participated-in topic ever.  Woot.  During the week we ask our Facebook Friends (likers) a pressing question.  On Fridays, we lay it out so you can play it out.  If you’d like to be part of the fun, click on this link to the Best Bike Blog Ever’s Facebook page and “lick” it.  I mean “like” it.  This week’s question:

What is the most memorable thing a motorist has ever shouted at you while on a ride?

Carol: "You look like you could use a beer! Here sweetheart, take a cold one. I'm wore out just lookin’ at ya!"

Eric: I'm going to F*** you in the ear

Peter: Two of us were riding from St Rt 126 up the hill toward Wards Corner. I was in front and all of sudden heard this scream/yelp from my friend Michael as a car slowly rolled by me. Turns out the guy in the passenger seat leaned out the window and pinched Michael in the ass.

Shane: Sidewalk azzzhhhoooolllll!

Butch: Hey sexy!! Complete with wolf whistle.  (The motorist was a male in a 70's vintage Chevy pickup truck)

Kim: 1975ish, east of Louisville on a group ride a pickup comes alongside and a very intoxicated guy yells "You F--King Q---rs” and tossed an open beer can at us! This of course is way before cell phones.  About a mile up the road the truck was being detained by the county boys. We rode by cheering!!  Ah the old days...

Corey: "Nice Butt!"

Dan: "Nice butt!"

Mike: Run forest run!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tim: (I don’t know about) Shouted? I watched a guy vomit from the passenger window of a pickup about 25 feet ahead of me once.

Andrew: I don't know, I can never understand them. The barking dogs make more sense with their comments!

Nick:  How about the 20+ incarnations of some sort of "Go Lance", or the variations on find an F'ing bike trail.

Mary: "Do you need medical help?" (see, i don't clip in so good sometimes...)

David: This lady laid on her horn as she passed me and yelled something out the window. I, for some reason yelled back, "GET OFF THE ROAD!!!"

David S: Very early on a Sunday morning about 18 years ago a pickup pulled up along side of us and (the occupants) started throwing eggs.  Whoever was tossing wasn’t a very good shot, but sure made us wonder whether the kids went without bfast that morning or just drove around throwing eggs before church.

Dave: Three sweaty, shirtless guys squeezed into a small truck...all yelled the typical " F$#$ing Queer ! " They were practically laying on each other half-naked, and Im queer?

Harold: "Nice ass!" Normally this might have been cool, but the scary looking guy with the confederate flag and "git-r-dun" stickers on his rusty old Ford truck slowed way down to say it. Epic yikes!

Cameron: She was actually a pedestrian, but I had a girl in Morrow scream "Hey, penis!" at me once.

Dave (again): Not yelled, but thrown: A FULL bag of Burger king stuff. Dude had literally had just driven out of the drive thru. Yeah, I was tempted to have a mid-ride snack.

James: "Put some saddles on your bikes!" Lil Bjet and I were dancing on the peddles up the steep section of Ibold. I had to laugh.  It did look like we were preventing a velo-enema.

Christopher: "Stay out of my Fucking way," as they whizzed passed my handle bar clipping me with the side mirror.  Sometimes I have heard a few whistles...they are not always bad comments.

Not That Lance: While slowly rolling up to an intersection, a car rolls up in the left lane and squeezes into my lane nearly hitting my bike. The passenger's side window rolls down and one of the two little old women said "You boys aren't supposed to be in the road.  Get on the sidewalk."  Then the window rolled up and the car continued to move to the right. There wasn't a sidewalk for miles.

Mark:  South side of Columbus, "Hey, I really like those flames on your clothes.  That is one badass outfit."  

Peter (again): At the 4-way intersection in Maineville a shirtless guy in a car going the other direction stands through the sunroof and yells, “F$@% You” at the top of his lungs. It is now called the FU intersection.

Marisel: The honks from the SUVs in Prospect Park, Bklyn are more memorable than anywords could ever be!

Kate: "Go Lance Go!!” Funny. "You're fat!!” Not funny

Jason: Imagine the stereotypical adolescent carrying his pants in Price Hill (a rough neighborhood).  Then imagine him saying this to me during hill repeats on my 5th time up Quebec, "You got this."  It still brings a smile to my face. 

Police Say Local Bike Rider Was Drunk…Really?

My chamois is in a bundle.  I’m offended.  As a local bike rider, I’m offended…well as much as I can be without laughing at the ridiculousness of my feelings.  This story threw the chain in my spokes last night.  I’m talking about the AP copyright story that popped out of Cincinnati Monday titled “Police Say Local Bike Rider Was Drunk” (click here to read it.)  To steal a line from Seth and Amy on Saturday night live…really?  I’m sorry, but I think it takes more than a bike to be a called a bike rider.  I’m not sure what that is, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

To say the least, in my opinion, the man who is the subject of the story could be called a lot of things, the least being a “bike rider.”  I’m thinking the headline should’ve been something like, “Police Say Local Man Was Drunk While Riding Bike.”  After all, he is a local man first, who just happened to be operating a bicycle.  I’m not arguing semantics.  There’s a principal involved somewhere.  I’m not angry.  I’m more bemused at myself.  I’m in a slight tiff.  This guy shouldn’t be in the same boat as the people I would call bike riders.  I’m not exactly sure what the minimum credentials are, but I’m 100% sure that this guy isn’t a bike rider.  I think it takes more than being on the pedals of a moving bicycle in Cincinnati to be called a bike rider. 

Forget about the law and the alleged alcohol for a minute and concentrate on the real issue.  What really does it take to be called a bike rider?   According to this story it seems like all you need is a bike and at least the ability to sort of balance it and pedal it for a minimal amount of time.  But you wouldn’t call a five year old riding herky-jerky around their cul-de-sac a bike rider.  I think they’d be called a child riding a bike.  So, maybe there’s a level of expertise and/or intention involved.   You can swing from a monkey bar, but you’re no gymnast.  You can dog paddle 15 feet from your inner tube to the dock, but you wouldn’t be identified as a swimmer.   You can shoot a gun, but you’re not marksman.

Then I brought up the story to some people in the office and told them how I was offended as a bike rider about this story.  After they rolled their eyes and my half joking explanation of why I was offended, one brought up an interesting point.  Respect.  A coworker said, “I don’t think this man respects the bicycle.”  She’s right.  So, I think that’s the difference.  A person riding a bike doesn’t necessarily respect the bicycle. 

A bike rider respects the bicycle.