Category Archives: Bike Commuting

“Don’t be a wanker”: an appeal to drivers and cyclists

In many Anglo-Saxon countries like the UK and Australia, the media seem obsessed with pitting drivers and cyclists against each other.

Australian TV reporter Charlie Pickering, host of ABC’s “The Weekly” and an avid cyclist himself, sought to fix some of these wrongs – in a hilarious little feature that also now airs on YouTube as a standalone video. It’s definitely worth a watch.

As much as we are solving many problems as cyclists, we have to be responsible road users too, and follow the rules of the road. I believe it is our burden to set that example in order to sow the seeds of a better cycling culture. Ultimately we all have to share the roads – whether we be cyclists or drivers.

“Don’t be a wanker!”

Review: Sugoi Zap bike jacket (2014)

Last year I discussed the importance of being seen by other road users and being safe from harm and the elements. Sugoi made headlines that year by announcing their Zap bike jacket, claiming to offer both. Does it live up to the promise?

FEATURES

  • “Pixel” fabric appears ordinary in daylight but becomes hyper-reflective when struck by artificial light, due to embedded glass micro-beads
  • Waterproof,  with storm flap and taped seams to avoid water ingress
  • Internal mesh membrane
  • Cycling-specific cut with dropped tail for bum coverage
  • Elasticated cuffs
  • Large rear pocket with Velcro closure
  • Available in three colors – red, lime green, black

IMPRESSIONS

When I got this jacket, I was so intrigued by Sugoi’s reflectivity claims that I immediately put it to the test by taking photos of it with the flash off, then on.

Front view of the Zap jacket under normal light.
Front view of the Zap jacket, taken with LED flash from my cellphone.
Rear view of the Zap jacket, taken with LED flash from my cellphone.

Sure enough, the Pixel fabric is a legitimate technology that does what it says on the tin…or fabric, in this case. Under daylight or normal overhead indoor lighting, it appears like a regular jacket. Shine a focused beam of light on it, however, such as from a flash bulb or a headlight, and the whole jacket becomes dazzlingly reflective – not just one or two details. Some of the glass micro-beads can even rub off the jacket and land on your person, making you appear to have reflective spots!

Here you see the Zap jacket rolled up into a jersey pocket. Some of the glass micro-beads will slough off the jacket and onto other surfaces, as shown in this flash shot.

I’m still a firm believer in running your lights while riding in order to be visible. That said, the jacket raises your profile to a much larger extent than if you were to use safety lights alone, which are basically “point” light sources. Anything reflective still relies on other vehicle drivers actually bothering to drive with their headlights on, however.

Judging the Zap on reflectivity alone doesn’t do it justice. It’s still supposed to be a jacket after all, and one that’s supposed to be waterproof in the rain, to boot.

WATERPROOFING VS. BREATHABILITY

Now, one important thing to know before proceeding: “waterproof” as an adjective doesn’t mean no water will ingress at all. Waterproof by clothing standards means an article of fabric will stand up to a certain water pressure or volume level before it eventually wets and gets soaked through. This can be improved by taping a garment’s seams, which are the points where water can seep in first.

Conversely, cycling as an activity will inevitably result in the rider generating sweat from underneath the jacket, and the term “breathability” refers to how well an article of fabric can let this sweat out in the form of water vapor. Rain gear that isn’t breathable is akin to riding your bike while wearing a plastic bag or sheet: you may not be getting rain ingress, but you will get wet from your sweat anyway. Common features meant to improve breathability are strategically located perforations or vents that are either fixed or can be opened and closed at will.

As you can see, waterproofing and breathability are two opposing sides of the same coin, and so each rain jacket out there is a compromise between the two conflicting goals.

The insulating ability of the material also comes into play here, to an extent. As long as you are moving on the bike, less breathability can be a positive factor if it means you can comfortably maintain your body’s warmth and guard against the wind getting in. This temperature regulation is why a good cycling rain jacket will keep you from catching a cold when riding, even when you’re sweating.

BEYOND THE REFLECTIVITY

So, having said all that, how does the Zap do? Pretty well, I should say.

The Zap jacket I have is a size XL. A little long on the sleeves and just a bit baggy in fit.
Note the dropped tail.
With the reflectivity working you can see the dropped tail much better. No photo manipulation here, folks – this photo is straight from my cellphone.

The jacket under review is a size XL. For someone like me, 5’7″ with a bit of a gut, perhaps the smaller size L is a better fit if you want your cycling jackets close-cut, but the XL is still a decent fit. The Zap has the classic dropped tail hem, which provides coverage for your bum while you’re bent over a road bike and pedaling or sprinting away. That dropped tail also houses a large single rear pocket with a Velcro flap closure, wide enough to swallow three granola bars side by side – or your phone and wallet. The cuffs are elasticated, which can cinch up the fit around the wrists, but I wish they had a Velcro or drawstring closure instead for more adjustability.

That rear pocket is the width of three granola bars. Pretty large.
Reflective granola bars anyone?

I’ve worn the Zap in quite a few rides where the rain was pouring at moderate strength for an extended amount of time. Worn with a cycling jersey, arm warmers, and a Uniqlo AIRism shirt as a base layer, it’s quite amazing how well and for how long it could keep the rainwater at bay. Given that level of rain, it would take 90-100 minutes of continuous riding before the arms and shoulders start getting damp from the rainwater – and you’d feel it, as it will be colder and clammier to the touch than the sweat you’re generating.

The Firefly Brigade’s March 2015 Critical Mass Ride, here passing SM City Sucat on a rainy morning. I’m the rider with the yellow helmet, and while riding at a slow pace, the Zap jacket kept me comfortably dry. Photo courtesy of the Firefly Brigade.

That said, on the scale of compromise between waterproofing and breathability, the Zap leans more toward the former. The Pixel fabric and interior fleece mesh lining excel at insulation and trapping your body heat to keep your core warm and comfortable. It also means the Zap really is a jacket for sustained rain and cold, gloomy conditions. There are no underarm perforations or added zippers to open for more breathability when needed; if you get too hot under the collar, your only option is to open the main zip. Given how warm it can get in the Philippines, this is a minor letdown for people expecting to wear the Zap year-round for better visibility at night. It’s fairly bulky rolled up in a jersey pocket, so not the most “packable” jacket out there, and the storm flap is a little strange and unwieldy in that it sits on the left side of the jacket, rather than parallel to the zipper on the right side as on most others.

VERDICT – YEA OR NAY?

Given how well it delivers on its promises, however, the Sugoi Zap jacket is a very good piece of cycling kit, one of those investment-grade items worth saving up for. It should last you years if taken care of properly, and it’s a useful addition to any cyclist’s wardrobe.

Perhaps subsequent versions of the Zap can incorporate more ways of tweaking the fit and better breathability, or it may even spawn a lightweight windbreaker version for more everyday use as a bike commute garment.

GCN’s Commuter Challenge: What’s the best way to ride to work?

In perhaps my favorite Global Cycling Network video yet, the boys take four distinctly different bikes and ways of getting from Bristol to their HQ in Bath, 20 km away.

Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014

Tom Last is astride a Specialized cyclocross bike with a single 40T chainring and cantilever brakes, riding and running through the paths and trails less taken.

Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014

Matt Stephens is on a Trek endurance road bike, slightly more upright and fitted with full-length fenders (or mudguards, as the Brits call them), gliding through quieter streets and bike paths.

(I just have to say though…wow, Shimano Dura-Ace drivetrain parts on a commuter bike?!)

Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014

Simon Richardson has a swoopy Canyon Aeroad road race bike under him as he knifes through traffic on the A4, a busy British main road.

Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014

Finally, Dan Lloyd has a 20″ Ridgeback Envoy folding bike, seemingly a rebadged Dahon Evasion model, which he takes on a bimodal commute.

Personally, I combine all four of their approaches. I ride a mud-capable cyclocross bike, fitted with full-length fenders, but I have no problem keeping an 18-20 km/h average speed on the open road clad in jeans and a shirt.

How do you ride?

Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014
The boys staring at Dan Lloyd and his foldie before they set off from the Bristol shoot location. Photo credit: Global Cycling Network, 2014

Review: Cat Eye Volt 1200 (HL-EL1000RC) front light

As a bicycle commuter, I’ve already discussed the importance of being seen on the road, and one of the most effective ways of doing so is by using good bike lights.

Front lights, in particular, occupy a broad spectrum of options. There are low-powered models that are meant to increase a cyclist’s visibility to other road users, but don’t do so well for illuminating the road. Other models rated for higher light output can cut through the darkness and light up your way as you pedal, highlighting potholes and road acne in advance so you can take avoiding action.

The light I’m reviewing today undeniably belongs to the latter category. We take a look at Cat Eye’s Volt 1200.

FEATURES

  • High-intensity white LED x2 in OptiCube beam-shaping housing
  • Maximum output: 1200 lumens
  • Five operating modes
    • Dynamic – 2 hours at 1200 lumens
    • Normal – 5 hours at 600 lumens
    • All-Night – 17.5 hours at 200 lumens
    • HyperConstant – 14.5 hours at 200 lumens + 600 lumen strobe
    • Flashing – 100 hours
  • FlexTight handlebar bracket mounting
  • Aluminum body
  • Water-resistant
  • Replaceable 3.6V 6200mAh cartridge battery
  • Recharge time
    • 14 hours via USB 2.0 @ 500mA
    • 8 hours via high-current USB @ 2000mA
Retail packaging.

OUT OF THE BOX

Box contents: The Volt 1200, FlexTight bracket and microUSB cable.

The Volt 1200 comes in a nice cardboard box. Inside are the light itself, the micro-USB charging cable, instruction leaflet, and the FlexTight handlebar mount bracket. This is the exact same mount used by my other front light, the much smaller and lighter Cat Eye Nano Shot (HL-EL620RC).

The Volt 1200 disassembled by a hex key. The SD card is there for size comparison.

As an all-in-one torch-type unit, the black cartridge battery is pre-installed into the lamp body, mounting via three bolts. You can undo the bolts with a hex key and mount a spare battery if you had one, but obviously this isn’t a quick affair. Besides, the huge battery is enough for most rides, especially when kept out of the higher-output modes. At 6200mAh, it dwarfs most cellphone batteries in pure capacity. My own Lenovo P770 smartphone has quite a large battery at 3500mAh; the Volt 1200 practically doubles that.

The aluminum body of the Volt 1200 acts like a heatsink, with a row of ridges on its top. Running at 600 or 1200 lumens means this can become quite hot, which is normal. The light has a little sticker on its underside warning of this, next to the rubber gasket flap for the micro-USB charging port.

PERFORMANCE IMPRESSIONS

The first time I turned it on, I laughed maniacally. An honest-to-goodness 1200 lumens! This is a seriously strong light in Dynamic mode, and it can temporarily blind people when aimed the wrong way. The beam is so potent that it handily outshines most indoor lighting. Headlight aim becomes critical when using the Volt 1200. I find it’s better angled slightly downward, 15-25 degrees from horizontal. The sheer volume of light means you will definitely be seen – it’s best employed by illuminating your path, and by brute force it will light up quite a way into the distance.

1200 lumens from the Volt 1200 vs. 200 from the Nano Shot. The bigger light throws the light farther.

In terms of beam shape, the OptiCube reflectors and optics tightly control it to give you a focused rectangle of light with minimal spill, instead of a floodlight effect. Some people may want more peripheral light, but I find that the tight beam works well when you’re pedaling at higher speeds.

You’d think the 214g Volt 1200 would overwhelm its tiny FlexTight bracket, but this isn’t the case. Tightened properly, I never had a problem with the light drooping on the bar at all, even through bad roads.

OPERATION

Most people will see this light and think “I don’t have use for a 1200 lumen front light!” Well, true, in most cases it is overkill. However, the real draw of the Volt 1200 is how versatile it is. If the max output was the only good thing about this light, this review would have ended already.

The five modes are all good compromises between light output and battery life. You cycle between the main modes in decreasing order of brightness using a single press of the top button (Dynamic -> Normal -> All-Night -> HyperConstant, then repeat). Pedaling along East Service Road at 10 pm, at 18 km/h average speed, I used the 600-lumen Normal mode most of the time to light up the path, while being seen by the cars and trucks that ply the route. I reserve the full 1200 lumens for short bursts in very dark spots. In the daytime, I run the HyperConstant mode, which is a constant 200-lumen beam with a 600-lumen flash strobe, and this helps with visibility.

Below are sample beam shots taken with my camera. The light is mounted such that it is around 20 degrees down from horizontal. Settings are constant across all photos: ISO 400, an f/2.8 aperture, 1/2 second shutter, and 50mm-equivalent focal length. For distance reference, the white vehicle in the distance is 100 meters away.

Volt 1200 off.
Volt 1200 in the 200-lumen All-Night mode. The steady beam of HyperConstant mode is the exact same brightness.
Volt 1200 in the 600-lumen Normal mode.
Volt 1200 in its maximum Dynamic mode. Even with the light angled around 20 degrees down from horizontal, it’s still illuminating around 60 meters of the road ahead.

Perhaps the only mode I don’t use at all is the Flashing mode. This turns the light into a high-powered blinker with an annoying pulse frequency. I prefer HyperConstant for this purpose, as the pulses aren’t so quick, and the constant beam gives oncoming traffic a better way of estimating distance between you and them.

Unfortunately, accessing the Flashing mode inadvertently (a double-press of the button, accessible at any time) is done way too easily. In practice, you may find that while trying to turn down the brightness, pressing too quickly triggers the borderline obnoxious Flashing mode.

The gasket and contacts on the massive 6200mAh battery.

Once the Volt 1200’s button glows red, it’s time for a recharge. Left alone long enough, it will automatically step down in output to squeeze as much run time out of the battery. At 6200mAh of capacity, charging this beast will take a while, and I would suggest investing in a high-current USB charger. The Volt 1200 has a useful way of discerning between normal and high-current charging. Normal charging leaves the button glowing red, while high-current charging is shown by a slow-cadence flashing.

VOLT 1200: YEA OR NAY?

I’ll get to the elephant in the room: this light isn’t affordable. Cheapskates are going to shy away from this light from the price alone, no matter what merits it has.

That said, 1200 lumens hasn’t been priced like this before – not from an established lighting brand. Not too long ago, you had to pay an arm and a leg for a light of equivalent output – and not in an all-in-one unit, to boot. Year on year, the improvements in bicycle lighting technology have become so great that my 200-lumen Nano Shot has been overtaken by the Volt 300 three years later, which packs 300 lumens in a package that’s half the price. If you look at the Volt 1200 as an investment, in that you’re buying a torch-type light that is ahead of the technological curve for about five years, coupled with the potential of buying replacement batteries…the price tag doesn’t seem too bad.

The remnants of what appear to be aluminum oxide between the cooling ridges. I’ve scratched most of it off with my fingernail.

Also worth noting is that the bare aluminum on my own unit has shown a few signs of cosmetic minor corrosion. This is most evident in the clingy greenish hard powder in between the cooling ridges (which I assume is aluminum oxide) and some blistering on the underside. No adverse effect on the light’s function, though, and it might simply be due to my sweat falling on the lamp’s metal body. The Volt 1200 is still as solid as the day it was unboxed.

The blistering on the underside. It’s usually found where the stickers are. It doesn’t look great, but it’s all cosmetic and doesn’t affect the functionality at all.

You may question the value of a 1200-lumen headlight, but the great thing about the Volt 1200 is that it is so much more than that. The capacious battery, great beam control, and a thoughtful selection of modes mean that this multi-role light excels at endurance – it can be the light you need it to be. Mount it to a mountain bike, turn on Dynamic mode, and see the trail light up right in front of your eyes. In practice, while riding with the light in HyperConstant mode in the daytime and Normal mode at night, over a total of two hours’ commuting per day, the battery will last a week with juice to spare. Charge it overnight using a good high-current USB charger, and you’re good to go the next day for another week’s worth of riding.

VERDICT

Reliable, powerful and well thought-out – one of the better lights around. An investment worth saving up for.

Review: SKS P45 Longboard bicycle fenders

As of this writing, we are smack dab in the middle of the rainy season. Riding a bike in this kind of weather presents its own risks and downsides – not least of which is a grimy, dirty stain down your shirt and butt affectionately called by cyclists as “the skunk stripe.”

See how grimy this guy’s butt and back are? That’s the skunk stripe in action. Photo courtesy of bikecommuters.com.

This large stain is a headache to rain riders because it is so hard to launder out of the fabric. While the rain falling from above is pretty clean, the water from your riding surface is anything but. In the first few minutes following any rainfall, the oils from the asphalt and passing vehicles leach out into the road. Not only do these tend to decrease the grip of your tires, they also make for a binding adhesive for dust and dirt. If this stuff is thrown up by your wheels’ spray and ends up on your clothing, I bid you good luck washing it out. This spray also isn’t good for your front derailleur and crankset, either.

Remember my Dahon Vitesse T10? It had SKS fenders as stock. These seem to be a hot-ticket item on selling forums, too.

Many folding bikes come with very good full-length fenders installed as stock equipment, and they are very effective at keeping you clean as you ride. If you move up to a road bike, however, what options do you have? Most fenders available locally are MTB-style jobs which don’t offer anywhere near the same amount of coverage.

Since my Dahon Vitesse T10 came with very good SKS fenders, I decided to look for similar items for my Giant TCX SLR 2. Today we’ll be looking at the SKS P45 Longboard fender set.

SPECIFICATIONS

  • Made of a sandwich construction of plastic and aluminum
  • 45mm wide, will fit 700c tires with widths from 28mm to 37mm
  • Secu-Clip safety feature on front stays – designed to release when foreign objects get wedged between the front tire and fender
  • Stainless steel stays
  • All mounting hardware included

OUT OF THE BOX

Retail packaging

SKS weren’t kidding when they said the Longboards – an offshoot of their long-running Chromoplastics series – are their largest, fullest-coverage fenders available. I mean, just check out the rubber mudflap on the front fender.

How low does your front mudflap go?

The “P45” designation means these fenders are 45mm wide. SKS recommends fenders at least 7mm wider than the tire tread width, so the P45s are the way to go for a cyclocross bike with 35mm-wide tires in a typical configuration. A road bike running 20-28mm tires will be better served by the P35 variant.

Inside the packaging are the fenders, the front and rear stays, the instruction sheet, and a bag containing all the washers, nuts and bolts, as well as the fender stay end-caps and the sliding bridge piece for the rear fender. You’ll need a 4mm hex key for the bolts, an 8mm socket wrench for the stay nuts, and a metal saw or hacksaw to cut the stays down to size. Bring out a permanent marker and tape measure, too, and a vise would be very useful.

Contents. The front stays have the black Secu-Clip fittings. Wrapped in plastic is the rear fender.

INSTALLATION…

The installation instructions are some of the worst I’ve seen. I’m used to seeing quality diagram-based instructions while installing everything from plastic models to car underbody parts, but SKS has the bare minimum of diagrams and resorts to explanation to walk the user through. You’re better off watching installation videos from YouTube instead.

Here’s a comprehensive one from Rivendell Bike Works.

Here’s one from SKS themselves.

Basically you will want to approach the install in the correct order, especially for the rear fender. It is meant to be anchored in six places: the chainstay bridge, the brake bridge, and then two points each for the left and right stays. Adding complication is that while the TCX SLR 2 has fender eyelets for the stays, it has neither of the two bridges, as it is a cyclocross bike equipped with disc brakes and designed for mud clearance. Conventionally you will want to anchor the rear fender by the bridge piece and chainstay bridge before having anything to do with the stays. For the TCX, I did this by repurposing a reflector mount and using some long zip ties.

In a former life, this plastic piece used to mount my rear reflector. Now it holds the rear fender’s sliding bridge in place.

The biggest headache you will likely encounter during installation is the proper sizing and cutting of the stays. Keep in mind the old adage “measure twice, cut once,” as it can be very easy to cut too much off the stays, leaving  you with no way to vertically locate the huge fenders properly – unless you braze or weld the cut pieces back on.

Zip ties: they can fix almost everything on a bike. Here they are providing a mounting point near the seat tube, in lieu of a chainstay bridge.

…AND FINE-TUNING

Dialing in the fitment also happened in the first week post-install. On a disc-brake bike, you will definitely have to bend the stays inward. On the front fender, the bend is on the non-drive side to clear the disc caliper, while on the rear fender you will have to bend on the drive side to clear the cassette and freehub. The aim is to get the fenders as straight as they can, and eliminate any chance of the fender hardware rubbing on the spinning tire. Maintaining a one-finger-width gap from the stay to the tire will do.

This is how you fine-tune the fender gap and centering. The end of each stay is fixed by a special bolt, which threads into this hex nut right here. Loosening the nut allows the fender to slide up and down along the length of the stay, as far as the black end-cap will allow.

Lastly, you will want to reduce the fender gap to the slimmest possible without the tire rubbing on the inside of the fender. This is especially true for the front. If the gap is too large, riding the bike one-handed at higher speeds feels as if there is a parachute strapped to the fork and the winds are snatching the steering away from you. That extra-long front mudflap can also jack-knife on itself and fold over, rubbing on the spinning front tire and having a lot of its thickness filed down very quickly. Reducing the gap mitigates this.

PERFORMANCE IMPRESSIONS

After the frustration of installation, fine-tuning and adjustment, the SKS P45 Longboards are a great fender set.

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The TCX SLR 2 now sporting its SKS Longboards on the original 700x35c Schwalbe Super Swan mud tires.

That low-hanging front mudflap might look odd, but it’s quite effective at keeping the spray out of your feet and toes. It’s also soft enough to bend out of the way in case you have to push the bike through a doorway with a raised step. Not even the front fender on my Vitesse was this good – it just doesn’t reach as low. It is worth all the effort to get the fender hugging the front wheel as snugly as possible.

With fenders cinched up and rubbing eliminated, the bike has no trouble hitting 47 km/h of flat sprint, and it’s stable riding one-handed.

Coverage of the rear fender. Riders will have no complaints following you down a wet road, since the fender contains most of the spray off the rear tire.

As good as the front fender is, the rear fender was the primary reason why I bought this set. My clothes and backpack now remain dry and grime-free whenever I ride through lots of standing water or a rain shower. The half-moon arc also effectively protects my front derailleur and crankset from road grime.

The Secu-Clip stay system on the front fender. I tried pulling the stays out of the Secu-Clips manually before installing them to the fork, and they didn’t release. There’s just enough movement in there to suggest that they’re supposed to come apart.

One final selling point of the Longboards for me was their color. Fitted correctly, black fenders on a black bike are virtually invisible – only the stays and a few dots of chrome give them away. SKS also makes these in silver and beige, all with black rubber mudflaps.

The TCX SLR 2 in street commuter trim and 700x28c Specialized Espoir Sport slicks. Perhaps a little less sexy than before, but way more functional. There’s some fender gap left to trim down in the front.

P45 LONGBOARDS: YEA OR NAY?

The installation is the only thing frustrating about this product, and you just have to accept that the procedure will vary depending on the idiosyncrasies of your bike. If you can wrap your head around the install and fine-tuning, these are simply excellent fenders.

VERDICT

Highly recommended if you can find a set. Just take your time and be patient with the install and fine-tuning.

Manila to Davao on a Folding Bike

My work has taken me to (almost) every major city in the Philippines.

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From as far North as Aparri to as far South as General Santos City. Being a member of the United Folding Bikers group, I feel it as an obligation to promote cycling as an alternative form of personal transport, not only because I have loved cycling all my life but the sheer joy of riding has made my work and my cycling passion work together.

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A typical 10am Davao flight for me would be something like this…

Leave the house at about 7am and head to NAIA 3 Terminal, which would take me about a little under two (2) hours (I used to take the MRT, before it has turned into the hopeless mode of transport that it is now), get to the to Arrival gate (theres an entrance and access to the Departure area on the rightmost part of the building so you don’t have to bike up the Departure ramp).

Then I fold and pack my bike, amidst all the amazement and bewilderment of passers-by, head straight to the bathroom (just below the escalator after the entrance), wash the face and extremities and go up to the departure area on the 2nd floor, check in my bike and head off to the terminal area. First part done.

Then I basically get on board, fly and land in Davao.

Then I wait for the luggage carousel to spit out my bike, bring it outside and unpack my bike, reinflate the tires with my Dahon Postpump, roll up my Dahon travel bag and just ride to the hotel, again amidst the oohs and aahs of all the people waiting for taxicabs on the curb. I’m in the hotel in about 10 minutes.

I will gladly do this for all my travels in exchange of this…

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Bicycle culture in Japan: Everybody rides

An office lady riding her “mamachari” (granny bike) up a slight incline. She wears a face mask because of pollen and other allergens that abound in the springtime. Osaka, Japan.

I was fortunate enough to go to Japan for six days in April. It was right in the middle of cherry blossom season, but it was also right in the middle of springtime – which, as it happens, is perfect weather to ride a jitensha, or bicycle.

Our first stop of the trip was Osaka. The third largest Japanese city by population, it is also home to two of the largest bicycle component companies around: electronics firm Cat Eye, and drivetrain colossus Shimano. It’s also immediately apparent that they love their bicycles here.

A row of folding bikes parked along an Osaka sidewalk at midnight. Osaka, Japan.
B3F of Bicqlo in Shinjuku is home to a multitude of “mamachari” bicycles. In total, bicycles took up 1/4 of the retail floor space. Tokyo, Japan.
Folding bicycle maker Dahon also has floor space at Bicqlo’s B3F area. Tokyo, Japan.

JUST RIDE AS YOU ARE

Everybody rides here, and by “everybody” I mean “adults.” It is not only the young and adolescents that ride, but also salarymen and office ladies. Most of them ride on mamachari or “granny bikes,” characterized by a hefty step-through frame, swept-back handlebars, a large rear kickstand, and the signature front basket. Mamachari are built more for reliability and personal transport than outright speed. I did see my share of folding bikes and small-wheeled mini velos, though, as these petite urban commuting machines steadily grow in popularity.

A salaryman riding another “mamachari” (granny bike) around a corner. Tokyo, Japan.
A man riding on the sidewalk just outside the Imperial Palace Gardens – the residence of the Japanese emperor and his family. Tokyo, Japan.

Safety advocates will notice one trait most Japanese riders share with their Dutch counterparts: no helmets. This is in stark contrast to most Western countries, which strongly advocate helmet use while riding. Many Japanese riders also don’t make use of any special cycling-specific clothing. They can get on the saddle in three-piece suits and office attire, no doubt helped along by the spring season’s temperature range (8-16 degrees Celsius).

A construction worker and a white-collar salaryman – both riding bicycles. When was the last time you saw this in the Philippines? Tokyo, Japan.
A spandex-clad cyclist, decked out in road shoes for clipless pedals and a helmet, with his road bike parked on the side while checking his phone in front of the Imperial Palace Gardens pedestrian crossing. These guys are more the exception than the rule here. Tokyo, Japan.

WHAT STIGMA?

Jitensha are class-less vehicles in Japan. There is no stigma attached to people making their merry way around the city on a bicycle, unlike in the Philippines where bike riders tend to be treated like second-class citizens, and where bike commuting is attributed to construction workers and manual laborers. The closest automotive equivalent of the “class-less” vehicle is the 1959-2003 BMC/Austin Mini, driven by both celebrities and plebeians and a reasonably affordable family car. However, the BMW-reborn Mini has since morphed into a style-led plaything for a rich, moneyed person and one passenger.

Many of Osaka’s sidewalks have guard rails separating pedestrians from vehicular traffic. It is not unusual to see bicycles of all shapes and sizes locked and chained to them.

A row of bicycles parked on the sidewalk right in front of a “Don Quijote” discount store at midnight. Osaka, Japan.
A lone flat-handlebar hybrid bicycle parked and locked to the sidewalk guard rail at midnight. Osaka, Japan.

You may have heard of Carlos Celdran’s recent altercation with the security agency of a certain mall in Ermita. Said agency so vehemently opposed Celdran parking and locking his bike in front of the mall that they essentially “detained” it with handcuffs. You will not see that kind of power-tripping shenanigans in Japan. The Westin Osaka is a swanky hotel, but there were three mamachari parked on the sidewalk right in front of its parking entrance. No harrassment, no shooing, no power-tripping, nobody thinking that the bicycles were eyesores.

Three “mamachari” parked right in front of the Westin Osaka’s parking entrance sidewalk. Admittedly not one of my best photos, but the point is obvious here: bicycles are respected and not looked down upon. Osaka, Japan.
Bicycle parking just outside the pedestrian underpass across the Grand Front Osaka mall. Osaka, Japan.

SHARING THE ASPHALT AND PAVEMENTS

In Osaka, Akashi, Kyoto and Kobe, four cities of Japan’s Kansai region, riders tend to wheel along on the sidewalks and use pedestrian crossings more frequently than they use the roads’ travel lanes. By comparison, riders in Tokyo and the Kanto Plain more frequently ride on the same travel lanes as motorized traffic does.

A “bicycle crossing” running parallel to a pedestrian crossing at an intersection in Odaiba. The hiragana characters read “jitensha” – the Japanese word for “bicycle.” Tokyo, Japan.

Plain to see, also, is that bicycle lanes and other infrastructure aren’t as widespread in these cities as the bicycle-centric culture would have you believe. Sure, there are bicycle lanes and crossings, but many of them share space with pedestrian traffic. In Tokyo’s Asakusa area, the sidewalks just off the Kaminarimon (“Thunder Gate”) are usually packed with pedestrians, but cyclists patiently crawl and tiptoe along at the same pace to get to where they have to go. Once the congestion opens up, they get back up to speed.

A segregated bicycle lane in the city. Notice that part of the sidewalk was used for this purpose. Tokyo, Japan.
A cyclist pedaling through a pedestrian lane in Asakusa, near the Kaminarimon (“Thunder Gate”). Tokyo, Japan.

All of this may seem like a recipe for danger, but the overwhelming majority of Japanese drivers are so courteous and polite that cyclists usually aren’t in any peril, even while they ride alongside large vehicles and sightseeing buses. For the Japanese, the concepts of discipline in transit, road safety and keeping traffic flowing are so deeply ingrained into their heads that it is almost second nature. Even while climbing and descending the tight, twisting mountain passes of Hakone, our tourist bus’ driver kept a measured pace — even decelerating almost to a complete stop at blind corners to make sure that any traffic on the opposite lane isn’t impeded by the huge size of the vehicle.

A bicycle commuter riding on the travel lane for motorized vehicles. There is real cooperation between drivers and cyclists here, neither party harassing the other and respecting each other’s journey. Tokyo, Japan.

One of the big reasons why the standard of driving is so high in Japan (and consequently, why cycling on travel lanes is very safe) is because it’s very tough to begin with, and also very expensive. An English-speaking person aiming to get a Japanese driver’s license would have to expect to pay around JPY400,000 for driving school and tests. Moreover, possessing a license in another country doesn’t necessarily mean that a certain driver can already pass the Japanese regulations with flying colors. Most applicants have to take the tests repeatedly in order to pass.

Lots of failure and expense needed to successfully obtain that Japanese driver’s license – so stringent are the requirements. And yet, Japanese drivers are some of the most courteous. Photo courtesy of Gakuran.com.

While bicycle commuting in Japanese cities is very safe even without helmets and hand signals, there are explicit limits. Drivers are served well by how steadily and smoothly bike commuters handle their machines – I never saw any cyclists wobbling and wavering. Japan is well-known for its extensive network of elevated high-speed highways; bicycles are expressly forbidden there and along certain main thoroughfares. Alternatively, for longer travels, cyclists can make use of dedicated cycle paths. Our own Byron Villegas once messaged me about a cycle path linking Osaka to Kyoto, which would take a total distance of 50 km to pedal. As far as ride distances go, that’s not bad for a reasonably fit cyclist.

A man on his bike resting at the deck by the Akashi Kaikyo Bridge. Akashi, Japan.

WHERE DO THEY BUY BICYCLES?

If you’re like most Japanese and all you need is a mamachari, you can easily get one in the mall – and you will be absolutely spoiled for choice. Bicqlo, a collaboration between apparel chain Uniqlo and electronics retailer Bic Camera, has five above-ground floors and three basement floors of space in busy Shinjuku. The very bottom of the basement has a quarter of its retail floor space for bicycles, tools and accessories.

Various bicycles for sale at the main entrance of the big discount store Don Quijote. Osaka, Japan.

Walking around Osaka, the large branch of the discount store franchise Don Quijote also carries various mamachari, flat-handlebar hybrid bikes and small-wheeled mini velos and folding bikes. In Kobe and Akashi, you can find Cycle Base Asahi, and the branches our tour bus passed mostly had stocks  upon stocks of mamachari as well.

The Y’s Road “custom” bike shop in Shinjuku. Tokyo, Japan.

The Japanese do have their respective local bike shops (LBS) dedicated to enthusiasts, such as Y’s Road in Shinjuku. There are actually two Y’s Road bike shops separated by a single street; you cross it to get to the other one. The one I visited was the “custom” bike shop, which carried stocks of road bike parts and components such as wheelsets, drivetrains, saddles, stems and handlebars.

Framesets and forks at Y’s Road Shinjuku. Tokyo, Japan.
A clear display shelf at Y’s Road full of Shimano groupset components. Note the top-end Dura-Ace groupset selling for JPY215,000. (I have a feeling I should not have taken this photo, but I didn’t take notice of the sign in yellow at the top at the time. Oops.) Tokyo, Japan.
Right next to it was the Campagnolo display shelf – full of groupset and drivetrain exotica from Vicenza, Italy. Tokyo, Japan.
A huge collection of wheelsets at Y’s Road, some of which were being sold at a discount. Tokyo, Japan.

JITENSHA WA SUBARASHII ~ BICYCLES ARE WONDERFUL

Thanks for reading and I hope you were able to live the Japanese bicycling life vicariously through my ramblings.

I will finish this post off with more photos of regular Japanese folk just enjoying their bicycles.

Some of the bicycles on sale at Bicqlo even had electric-assist drivetrains. Tokyo, Japan.
A man resting on a bench in the shade with his bicycle, at Odaiba Marine Park. Tokyo, Japan.
Two Lycra-clad dismounted road bike riders entering the main gate of Osaka Castle. Osaka, Japan.
An elderly man pedaling right under the Akashi Kaikyo Bridge. Akashi, Japan.
Bicycle parking at Odaiba at night. Odaiba has such wide parkways and non-vehicular thoroughfares that using a bicycle to get around makes so much sense. Tokyo, Japan.
An elderly lady and her “mamachari” on the seaside deck just under the Akashi Kaikyo Bridge. Akashi, Japan.
One of the few drop-bar road bikes I saw in Tokyo, ridden by a bike commuter in pants, button-down shirt and messenger bag. Tokyo, Japan.
A couple pedaling their bicycles along the coast of Odaiba Marine Park. Tokyo, Japan.

So you biked to work…what’s next?

UFB's Gilbert Serrano riding his road bike through a tree-lined avenue.
UFB’s Gilbert Serrano riding his road bike through a tree-lined avenue.

We once asked Gilbert Serrano of United Folding Bikers to share his experience with bicycle commuting. He is a good source on the topic, as his job requires him to show up in long-sleeved business attire.

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SHOWER FACILITIES IN THE OFFICE?

First off, if your office has shower facilities, that’s a huge help. At our office, we just relegated a seldom used comfort room to be a “shower room”, although technically it’s a “tabo” (water dipper) room because there’s no real shower.

Gilbert's Abnormal Broke V2 messenger bag. Click the image for Abnormal Bag's Facebook page.
Gilbert’s Abnormal Broke V2 messenger bag. Click the image for Abnormal Bag’s Facebook page.

INVEST IN A COMFORTABLE BAG

I use a Broke V2 Messenger Bag by Abnormal (you can look him up on Facebook). It’s waterproof, made of 1000D Cordura Ripstop material with Tarp inner lining, well-balanced, and doesn’t cover your whole back. It also has a “third leg” stabilizer strap so your bag won’t spin around.

My Broke V2 carries

  • my MacBook
  • two phones
  • a pouch for chargers, cables and what-not
  • waterproof case for soap (it’s actually a repurposed waterproof cellphone case)
  • deodorant
  • small comb

I’m pretty spartan when it comes to office attire. I’m not into fripperies like colognes, gels and what-have-you, so it’s basically just soap and non-scented deodorant for me.

INVEST IN MICROFIBER TOWELS

I have a full-size TekTowel by Sea to Summit. Kind of pricey at PhP1299, but there are alternative microfiber towels in Handyman for about PhP300. What’s good with the TekTowel is, it has a case and it folds into a compact 6″ x 4″ x 1.5″ package, plus it remains super-light even when wet. After taking a bath, I hang it at the back of my chair and it’s dry in 10 minutes. I then just pack it away and stash it in my bag.

MAKE IT A ROUTINE

No secret really, I just come to work earlier. I leave the house at 7:00am, and get to the office by 7:30am. When I get to the office, I park my bike, then head straight to the canteen for a cup of coffee and just cool down a bit. When coffee is done, I head straight to the shower (“tabo”) room and take a quick shower, get dressed, and that’s it.

LIGHTEN YOUR LOAD – DRESS, PACK AND EQUIP CORRECTLY

I usually just pack a cotton long/short sleeve shirt, change of boxers, socks and chino pants. When riding, I use all-black Chuck Taylors , I use them in the office as well. Or you can do what I used to do: just leave a pair of office shoes in the office. I swapped out my clipless pedals to standard platform pedals so I can just wear one pair of shoes all day.

For the sweaty clothes, we have provision for hanging clothes in the shower room so I also bring two collapsible clothes hangers, which cost PhP120 at National Bookstore. (Don’t ask why there are hangers sold there, I was surprised too.) Or, you can just hang them there as is. They’ll be dry to wear going home by 5pm, the end of my office day.

Of course, pack the bike commute necessities, such as a basic multi-tool for your bike.

Gilbert's EDC (every day carry) stash. More than just the typical puncture repair kit, he also carries a miniature first aid kit, zip ties and some spare links for his Shimano HG74 chain.
Gilbert’s EDC (every day carry) stash. More than just the typical puncture repair kit, he also carries a miniature first aid kit, zip ties, rubber bands, a luggage lock, and some spare links for his Shimano HG74 chain. He even has an old sport sock – for handling greasy situations.
Gilbert's chain tool and Topeak Mini 18 multi-tool, showing the built-in plastic tire levers.
Gilbert’s chain tool and Topeak Mini 18 multi-tool, showing the built-in plastic tire levers.

I prefer to carry a spare tube rather than a patch kit, because it’s faster and easier to change the whole tube than patch one.

Don’t forget a GOOD hand pump. I also stash P100 in my toolkit, so I don’t have to pull out my stuff if I have to get a tube patched by someone else.

Don’t forget water, blinkers (especially if you ride up to night time), headlights, reflectors. I have a Hornit electronic bike horn as well, but most of the time, it’s easier to just shout “Bike! Bike! Bike!”

HOW FAR IS YOUR COMMUTE?

Think about this. I live in Novaliches and work in Valenzuela, about 10 kilometers away.

By car, it’s 60 to 90 minutes.

By motorbike, it’s about 45 to 60 minutes.

By bike, it takes 35 minutes, and I take the longer route to the office to steer clear of the trucks. It doesn’t even matter if I use my road bike, or my folding bike, or my mountain bike, it’s still 35 minutes maximum, maintaining an average speed of about 18 km/h.

See you on the road!

Bike to Work

Here’s my daily commute, just so you’d get a feel how liberating it is to bike to your workplace (and back).

Sorry for the low video quality, this was originally at 720p HD taken from my Gear2Go Action Cam but had to drop the quality to upload to youtube.

11km – 35 minutes – 18kph average = happiness 🙂