Upping My Bicycle Commuting Game – Part 5, Gonex Garment Folder

“There are moments, Jeeves, when one asks oneself, ‘Do trousers matter?'”
“The mood will pass, sir.”
P.G. Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters

My 30 year old touring bike in The Cedars, Dallas, Texas

 

It didn’t take long and now the actual bicycling part of my bicycle commute is the easiest part. As a matter of fact, on most days the bike ride to and from work is the high point of my day. The low part is having to change clothes at my work. We don’t have showers or a locker room (Some runners and I have been lobbying for lockers and showers – work/life balance and all – and everybody agrees it would be a great idea but the budget keeps getting cut at the last minute) and I have to change in the handicap stall. No fun at all. The ride is five miles each way which is too far to ride in my work clothes (sweat, rain, grease, heat, cold…) so I have to carry my clothes and change each way.

I’ve tried taking a week’s worth of clothes in on the weekend and that didn’t work. It takes up too much room and I still have to change – plus there’s a lot of unnecessary walking around (bike area to clothes storage area to desk to bathroom to clothes storage… back and forth).

So I have to carry each day’s work clothes with me. But I have never been a good clothes folder and my shirt and pants were always terribly wrinkled. A lot of bike commuting sites recommend rolling your clothes – but that doesn’t work. They still come out wrinkled.

I kept on doing research until I came across something that I had never heard of before. Something that turned out to be an amazing, perfect solution.

A Pack-It Garment Packing Folder.

It’s like a big nylon envelope with a plastic board printed with folding instructions. I ordered one and, after messing with it for awhile, learned to fold a shirt and pair of pants and store them away.

The most common brand of these things are Eagle Creek. I ordered one of those first, and bought the smaller size (thinking that I only had one shirt and one pair of pants). It turned out that was too small – my shirt and britches are pretty big.

At that point I discovered that less expensive knock-offs were starting to appear so I bought one from Gonex – a Gonex Garment Folder in Red to be exact.

Next I had to figure out how best to carry the thing. I was surprised to find it actually fit inside my new backpack. It takes up a lot of room in there though, and is an inconvenient shape – so that if I had to carry a big lunch or laptop – it was pretty awkward. I worked out a secure way to bungee the thing onto the top of my rear rack with a piece of elastic and a couple of carabiners.

The thing works like a charm. It only takes a minute to fold and pack and it keeps my clothes wrinkle-free. Take a good look at these things, even if you don’t commute on a bicycle. They are great when you travel – you can get a few days’ worth of clothes in a small space – in a carry-on. It’s always a good thing when a weird gadget works like it is supposed to and actually helps in some odd way.

I still hate changing clothes at work though.

Upping My Bicycle Commuting Game – Part 4, A New Backpack

“I’ve got my full rucksack pack and it’s spring, I’m going to go Southwest to the dry land, to the long lone land of Texas and Chihuahua and the gay streets of Mexico night, music coming out of doors, girls, wine, weed, wild hats, viva! What does it matter? Like the ants that have nothing to do but dig all day, I have nothing to do but what I want and be kind and remain nevertheless uninfluenced by imaginary judgments and pray for the light.”

Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums

Osprey Talon 22, in red

I have never liked wearing a pack while I ride my bike. In the summer I sweat too much anyway and a pack makes that so much worse. Plus, they are uncomfortable – I rode home from work one day with my laptop in the backpack the company gave me to carry it and by the time I made it home my shoulders were killing me. I had to stop every hundred yards or so, get off, remove the pack, and stretch – the pain was unbearable.

But commuting every day without a pack proved impossible. I have panniers on my bike but they don’t always cut it. I have to carry my stuff from my bike to my office. Plus, it’s not only about capacity, it’s about organization, and a backpack can be kept loaded… simply grab and go.

I began to realize my problem wasn’t with small backpacks per se – but with the shitty packs that I had. There was the pack the company gave me – which was designed to carry a laptop from a car to a desk. The other packs I had (and I had more than a few) were all giveaways from various conferences or cheap sacks I found at Goodwill. I had some Christmas money left over after I bought my hi-viz cycling jacket – so I started to research small backpacks/daypacks.

And research I did. I started online with searches like “best backpacks for bike commuters” or “best cycling daypacks.” I made lists, winnowed them down then bulked them up. I wrote down pros and cons and quoted review after review. I watched youtube videos until I was sick.

Actually the selection narrowed down pretty quickly. The most popular pack was the Osprey Radial – which was specifically designed for bike commuters. I talked to a cyclist friend that worked at REI and carried an Osprey Tempest 20 with her everywhere she went. She explained the philosophy between different types of packs (hiking, biking, travel,etc.), the importance of proper compression straps,  and where each type would be found in the store.  So I went down to REI and poured over the wide and deep selection that they offered.

I did look at pack brands other than Osprey – but it didn’t take me long to figure out that they seemed to know what they were doing. I liked the Radial – it was designed for the exact purpose that I needed a pack for. But it was very technical – it was complicated with a lot of bells and whistles. It had a laptop sleeve but no slot for a hydration bladder. It seemed perfect for what I wanted, but wouldn’t be very useful for anything else.

But over in the hiking section I found the Osprey Talon 22 and realized that it was exactly what I wanted.

For me, the biggest thing was comfort. I didn’t want a pack that caused me pain like that horrible laptop bag.

The Osprey Talon (and the Radial) had an innovative design with mesh suspension and die-cut foam back panel and curved straps. Plus the Talon had a wide, contoured hipbelt – and I know from years of backpacking that suspending a load on your hips feels a lot better than hanging it off your shoulders. Though it does have a few do-dads (water bottle pockets, large front stretch pocket, trekking pole attachment, ice ax loop, helmet keeper thing, external hydration bladder sleeve, slots for blinking light) basically, the pack itself is one big panel-loading compartment – which is what I wanted. The helmet keeper might even be useful sometime.

So it was the Osprey Talon 20. I chose one in red (for road visibility).

And I love the damn thing. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy with a purchase, especially one that I researched and agonized over so much.

The suspension actually works. No matter how heavy it’s loaded I can barely feel it on my back. We’ll see how cool it is when summer gets here – but they obviously put a lot of thought into the way it fits. It is customizable (there’s this weird Velcro panel inside the back that goes up and down to adjust to how long your back is) and after some fiddling I have it fitting me perfectly.

I was a little worried that at 20 liters it would be too small but since it is one big flexible space – it holds more than it looks like it does (I’ve even been able to fit a full-size photo tripod in there -which won’t go in anything else). I really have no negative thoughts about it at all. I take it to work every day – rode to the grocery store today and filled it along with both panniers. I even dug out an old hydration bladder and on one not-so-cold day rode around sipping water (it worked great).

I never thought I’d be so tickled pink over something as simple as a day pack – but it makes me very happy.

 

 

Blue Threadlocker

Last weekend, it was hot, very hot. As it does every year, summer is slamming its toxic wall of incalescence into the population like Castle Bravo into Bikini. I had a ten mile bicycle ride planned out – from the DART station at Araphaho north along the Central Trail and looping through the Spring Creek Natural Area – including the new little extension that runs up under the towering vertiginous George Bush Turnpike interchange… then back. Ten miles isn’t very far, but my bike is heavy and inefficient and its motor is old and worn out – so it was enough, especially in this heat.

(click to enlarge)

My good intentions were to get up at dawn and go in the relative cool of the dewy morning – good intentions… but we know where the road that is paved with those leads to. I did not actually get on the road until the sun was directly overhead. It wasn’t too bad, though – I carried plenty of iced water and the Spring Creek part of the trail is shaded by the thick forest. I took my Kindle and stopped a few times to read a short story at any particularly tempting shaded bench I came across.

The looping trails through the Spring Creek Natural Area converge on a little footbridge over the creek. There is a nice bench there – a good place to rest and get away from the city for a few minutes.

The only problem I had was that the bolts on my bicycle rack worked themselves loose while I was riding. I noticed one side coming off and stopped to fix what I could – and then later the other came loose. I was able to keep going after some repairs, but the rack was useless.

Rack

Bike Nashbar rack mounted on the back of my bicycle.

When I arrived at home I was able to scrounge up replacements for the bolts that I lost and reassembled everything. But I knew this would happen again. No matter how hard I torque down those little aluminum bolts the constant shaking and jarring of my halting progress across uneven concrete would make them back their way out of their proper, tight position. So I sat down facing the search engines and decided to learn what I could do to stop this from reoccurring.

I entered the world of the threadlocker. There are many brands and many types… but it didn’t take long to limit everything down to one key identifier and two types – Red and Blue.

Both colors will keep your bolts under your thumb, but the red, the high strength, has to be heated to five hundred degrees to give up its grip. The blue, however, is removable with “ordinary hand tools.” So blue it was.

A trip to an automotive parts store and a tiny tube of blue threadlocker was at hand. I took the rack off, and carefully reinstalled it, squirting a little blue stuff onto each bolt as I threaded it back home.

So now, is it possible that that rack will go flying off into oblivion when I am tooling along in the middle of nowhere sometime casting my absolutely necessary survival gear into some bottomless pit? Maybe.

But I’ve done what I can.

Pack Straps

This works, but it looks stupid. Though not as stupid as when I’m actually riding the thing.

New Pack

I have always had this odd fixation on daypacks and bags. I like the illusion of freedom and mobility – I like feeling of being able to flit about the city with my office on my back, able to write, draw, or take photographs as the opportunities present themselves. I like to think I’m self-sufficient, carrying my own water and food. I like to think of grabbing transport as it may come, walking, riding my bike, or hopping the train, and being good to go whenever and wherever.

All a load of crap, of course. I’m more likely to be sitting on the couch eating a ham sandwich and watching reruns of Intervention as I am to be scribbling in my Moleskine in a funky coffeeshop with my bicycle chained up out front… but I can dream, can’t I?

I have a nice, sturdy daypack – a MountainSmith that I bought on clearance at REI well over a decade ago and it is still serving me well. I have an LA Fitness gym bag and a blue nylon shoulder bag (this I take to the library) that I bought at Goodwill a long time ago. These serve their purposes too.

Table

You can see my blue shoulder bag at my favorite table at the Richardson Library.

The bag I carry the most is my Not-A-Purse. It’s a Canvas Map Case Military Shoulder bag that I bought on Amazon a few years back. It’s a nice writing bag – It will hold my Kindle, some Moleskines, notebooks, a handful of fountain pens, and sometimes my Alphasmart Neo. It has a nice hard back (it was designed as a map case) that can function as a writing surface in a pinch. It goes with me pretty much everywhere – sometimes I stuff it inside the larger daypacks.

Map Bag

My Not-A-Purse. What is strange is that I found this image floating around on the internet - I don't know where it originally came from. But if you look, there is an Alphasmart Neo sticking up in the bag. I can't believe other people out there have Neos in their bags, exactly like mine.

When it arrived from Amazon, Candy looked at it and said, “Oh, you bought a purse.”

“No it is not,” I said, “it’s a Canvas Map Case Military Shoulder Bag.”

“If it looks like a purse, it is a purse.”

“No, it’s not a purse.”

This discussion/argument has been going on for years. I hold my ground stubbornly. It is not-a-purse.

The other day some of Nick and Lee’s friends were over. My Canvas Map Case Military Shoulder Bag was sitting on the coffee table in the living room. One of the girls saw it and said, “Oh, Mrs. Chance, that is new, that is such a nice purse. Where did you get it?”

Teenagers today don’t know anything.

We took a load of old crap, three big black plastic trash bags full, to the Goodwill today and I decided to take a look at what bargains I couldn’t live without. Despite the cheapness of the used and donated goods and the poverty and desperation of most of the customers the Goodwill tries to be as organized and attractive as possible. They had big crude displays set up with back-to-school supplies. At the front were donated binders and organizers, and in the center aisle were huge cardboard totes full of bookbags and backpacks.

I dug around and found a nice Kelty Boomerang daypack. It looked unused. It was a nice size, not too big, and had good quality padded hip and shoulder straps, plus the rugged Kelty zippers and heavy fabric. The Boomerang is a discontinued model, but Kelty daypacks start at around sixty dollars – and this wasn’t one of the cheapest models. It did have a (small) logo for a dogfood company stitched into the fabric – so it must have been a giveaway at a convention or something (that’s why it looked unused).

I don’t need another pack, but I liked it. At first I wondered how much it was, but as I was looking at the thing, I found a three dollar sticker in a pocket.

I can live with three dollars. At the front counter we found that all back-to-school items were 50 percent off so the bag actually cost a dollar fifty.

The thing is, stuff from Goodwill, the downside… isn’t the cost in money. It’s the cost in space… in increased clutter. I don’t want to be the guy on Hoarders with a house full of daypacks. So, I buy a new one, I get rid of two old ones. So a couple of smaller bags go into the plastic trash bags for the next trip to Goodwill. The eternal cycle of life.

What’s nice about the bag is that it has a pocket for a hydration bladder in it. I’ve been riding my bike with my hydration pack, but it doesn’t have any pockets for other stuff. I can move the bladder from that pack into the Kelty and have a nice urban explorer kit – with water, food, writing equipment… everything I need.

Kelty Bag

My new Kelty bag and the hydration bladder that fits in it.

Yeah, if I can only get off of this couch.