How I can afford to own a condo in Vancouver (it’s all about the bike)

Cycling and real estate in Westcoast Homes magazine

Earlier this month, media reported that Vancouver is the world’s second least-affordable city to live in. It reminded me that Steven Threndyle of Westcoast Homes and Design Magazine interviewed me on a related topic in August 2012: on how a cycling habit can help towards owning a home in Vancouver.

You can read the entire article, Cycles in the City, or the except below:

With improvements in rapid transit, bike lanes and pedestrian-oriented developments, Vancouver homeowners are becoming the new transportation trailblazers.

“When Ulrike Rodrigues purchased a condominium in East Vancouver 16 years ago, she didn’t exactly see herself as a lifestyle trailblazer. She was simply a renter who realized that the money she had saved by not owning a vehicle could be put towards a down payment in the emerging Mount Pleasant area. The 51-year-old technical writer doesn’t make a huge deal about it. “I wasn’t trying to be environmental. And I wasn’t even trying to be a homeowner. It just made sense to pay towards my own mortgage instead of someone else’s. Naturally, I chose a building that was close to transit and the side streets I cycled on every day.”

As the former Adventures of Mitey Miss columnist in Vancouver’s Momentum – a publication that actively promotes urban cycling – Rodrigues is glad other people are seeing the logic and benefits of driving less. Combined with major improvements in rapid transit – no less than three light rail transit lines now fan out from downtown stations into the suburbs – the general goal of elected officials and city staff has been to reduce the number of auto trips into the downtown peninsula…” Read more

A train and folding bicycle adventure in Western Canada

“Is that a FOLDING bike?”

Dahon folding bikes on the Bow Valley Parkway in the Canadian Rockies

In autumn 2007, I did a one-month train and bike journey around British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba with fellow bike adventurer, Michelle Eisele. I was on assignment for Momentum Magazine to test-ride a Dahon Speed TR and Dahon MU XL. I wrote 35 stories for my Adventures of Mitey Miss cycling column. I’ve republished those stories in this new blog.

Read “Is that a FOLDING bike?”

How To Job Search by Bicycle

A cyclist’s checklist for pounding the pavement

Would you hire this writer? (photo: http://www.davidniddrie.com)

I’m looking for work—a place where I can be smart, passionate, persuasive, and unapologetically car-free. But as I freshen up my career website and surf the job boards I wonder: can this cyclist pass for “Normal?“

Normal wears brisk suits, looks polished and drives to work. Normal also works tirelessly, is paid handsomely, and receives dental benefits. I want all that and am willing to do all that — except for the “drive” part. I won’t drive to work, and I feel so strongly about it that I’ve developed this Cyclist’s Job Search Checklist to keep my career and cycling in balance:

1. Set your parameters

Before I even start looking, I establish how far I’d be willing to ride, in what direction, and for how many seasons. Is transit available nearby? Which bike would I ride and will it be secure?

2. Scrutinize the company’s job posting and the website

Some companies are bike-friendly and they don’t even know it. I recently applied for an editorial position with an online publishing service I’ll call “Writing Is Us.” They used words like “sustainable,” “friendly,” “fun,” “creative” and “forward-thinking” on their Careers page. And a peek at their Contact page confirmed that their address was a pleasant 30-minute ride away.

3. Drop the word “cycling” into your cover letter or resume

Don’t proselytize the Word Of Wheel, but don’t hide your faith, either.  I try to sneak it into the cover letter somewhere (“able to blog about modes of sustainable transportation, e.g. cycling”) or bury it in the “hobbies” section of the CV (“volunteer bike guide for school groups”). You never know—someone on the hiring team may be into cycling too, and you could set off their bikey radar. Another tip is to describe yourself as “forward-thinking.”

Paul Bogaert: the Bike Doctor will see you now

Vancouver bike shop owner and activist puts fun first

Paul Bogaert of Vancouver's Bike Doctor store.

By Ulrike Rodrigues

Larry Ruble is considered a bike industry guru who knows a good thing when he sees it. In 1982, the Mountain Bike Hall of Famer spotted a future in Paul Bogaert.

Recounts Ruble, “I was waiting for a young man at the Purdy’s Chocolates outlet in the lobby of the Empress Hotel to finish serving a very fussy woman … I found her requests and manner very exasperating.” Ruble turned his attention to the sales person serving her and noticed he had “the patience of Job.”

“He had the skills all retail clerks need, but seldom have,” said Ruble. “Being quite impressed, I asked him if he liked bicycles. My wife was pulling on my arm to get our chocolate order in, but I persisted with my questions and finally asked him if he would like to work for me at Russ Hay’s Bicycle Shop.”

Bogaert worked at Russ Hay’s through the summer, traveled, worked with his brother and then figured it wouldn’t be too hard to run his own small business. He opened a second-hand sporting goods store in Victoria, Canada in 1984: the first “Bike Doctor.”

Shaping Vancouver’s cycling advocacy

By 1989, Bogaert had traveled and worked in Mexico, Ottawa and Whistler, and opened Broadway Station Bikes. The East Vancouver shop attracted the city’s emerging cycle-activists, including Marilyn Pollard, Grant Watson, Allison Davis, Gavin Davidson, Andy Telfer, Richard Campbell and Jeff Hohner. With Bogaert’s encouragement and support combined with the strengths each of these leaders brought, they formed groups that shaped Vancouver cycling advocacy.

“The small group of people I was connected with in the early 1990s were doing all the work to promote cycling and to foster groups like BEST (Better Environmentally Sound Transportation) and OCB (Our Community Bikes),” said Bogaert.

Stickers just for bikes at Bike Doctor in Vancouver, BC

As interest in trail cycling grew, so did Bogaert’s store. Bike Doctor moved to the Boundary area of East Hastings, then near its current location on West Broadway.

Community support and good fortune

Unlike many of his bicycle retail colleagues, Bogaert’s emphasis has always been on transportation biking. He thinks it’s “good fortune” that consumer interest has shifted toward the kind of cycling he promotes.

“It’s not that I knew this was coming, but it’s super-needed. It’s something that I’ve been wanting, working at and trying to support, and it’s now becoming popular.”

Bogaert has also always been a reliable supporter of the bike community. When he closed his Hastings Street location, he donated thousands of dollars’ worth of product to BEST’s fledgling Main Station Bikes store. When Momentum Magazine started, Bike Doctor was one of its first advertisers. When Bike Summer, Bike Shorts and Velopalooza arrived in Vancouver, Bogaert provided funding, prizes and elbow grease to the events.

The community has supported him in turn. Bike Doctor still regularly rates as one of the top bike stores in city polls.

Says Bogaert, “But my greatest satisfaction is seeing people who came in and said ‘I really don’t plan to ride to work much’, and six months later they’re like, ‘I can’t believe how much I’m riding!’ That great connection that happens with a person and the right bike and – suddenly they become a cyclist. They realize that they can do it, and it’s fun, and it’s really not that hard.”

To Bike Doctor’s Paul Bogaert, having fun on a bike just makes sense. Maybe it’s even better than chocolate.

Bike Doctor, 137 West Broadway, Vancouver, BC, (across from MEC), 604-873-2453, thebikedr.com

Published in the January/February 2010 issue of Momentum: the magazine for self-propelled people.

What I know for sure

Can we share an Oprah moment?

Now that I'm back from my trip, there are a few things I know for sure

I ask because a hefty issue of O Magazine kept me company on a recent bike trip in September and one of its topics kept bouncing around in my head.

Someone once asked Oprah, “What do you know for sure?” Oprah thought the question was such a good one, she made it a regular feature.

Now that I’m back from my tour of the Pacific Northwest’s islands by folding bike, bus, ferry, train and automobile; I can tell you there are a few things I know for sure.

Bicycles are precious

Elsewhere in the world, you can toss a bicycle into a bus, train or ox cart without much fuss or cost. But here in North America, Greyhound considers a bike so precious that they require it be boxed, labelled and charged passage. While my own fare added up to about $30 at the ticket counter my bagged, folded bicycle commanded $33.

The whole idea of travelling with a folder was to avoid this backwards-thinking ridiculousness. I was choked and told my driver so. “You shouldn’ta told them it was a bicycle,” he countered.

Pedaling is meditation

Cortes­–like the other Gulf Islands in British Columbia–is very hilly. It is also home to a spiritual wellness center called Hollyhock. I suggest that–rather than chant mantras or punch cushions–its visitors spend a couple of days contemplatively pedaling Cortes’s steep inclines in the granny gear of a 20″ wheel bike. It’s easy: focus on the pavement at your front wheel, empty your mind, and and don’t forget to breathe.

Prepare for spontaneity

VIA Rail runs a historic rail journey up and down Vancouver Island. The Victoria-to-Courtenay train service is run by the Government of Canada but isn’t well-publicized and–despite the scenic region’s growing popularity as a cycling destination–doesn’t allow bicycles.

Burned by my Greyhound experience, I bought a ticket online without mentioning the folding bike. On departure day I took a stand on the platform with my bicycle bagged in a clear VIA Rail bicycle bag. Four panniers and a drybag of camping gear leaned against it for support.

I waited for the other passengers to load, then passed the conductor my folded Dahon. He carefully placed it at the front of the rail car, positioned the bags around it, and actually thanked me for preparing my bike so thoroughly.

Cycling slows you down

The Pacific Northwest has a powerful cycling voice in the Cascade Bicycle Club and this became apparent when I stood in line to board the Black Ball ferry from Victoria, BC to Port Angeles, WA. Suddenly my lonesome folding bike was joined by a tie-dye tandem, a family of BMXs, and a couple of recumbents.

I overhead the two recumbent guys tell the tandem couple that their goal was to cycle to the Mexican border.

“You guys are lightweights,” I joked as I surveyed their pannier-free bikes and shifted the weight of my own laden Dahon.

“Yeah,” they joked back, “We’re packing credit cards. We want to make it to San Diego in twenty days and we don’t want anything to slow us down.”
“You mean, like, scenery?” I asked.

What I know for sure is that I am not myself unless I can explore. The most authentic, efficient and balanced way to do that is with a bicycle. Cycling lets me move, meditate and mingle at the same time. And it’s fun as hell.
I wonder if Oprah has given it a try?

Published in the November/December 2010 issue of Momentum: the magazine for self-propelled people.

Why ride a bicycle? For abuse and for tea

A typical cyclist muses on a typical day

"Tea is good on a rainy night. I know you cyclists like tea.”

“You cyclists,” spat a driver as I caught up to his beat-up hatchback at a red light, “You ride around like you own the streets, you break all the rules, you bang on my car – “

“But that’s not me,” I huffed, “I’m not like that–”

“It doesn’t matter,” he roared as he furiously rolled up his window, “you cyclists are all the same!”

Sometimes when someone like him sees someone like me on a bike, he sees all cyclists and I become a typical cyclist

For example, when I savor a steak, arrive at a gala or call myself lazy, a non-cyclist will look at me incredulously.

“You eat meat? But I thought you were vegetarian! Why? Well, you’re a cyclist – you know – the environment and all that.” “You rode a bike here? But you look so – dressed up! Usually bikers wear those loud yellow rain jackets!” “You? Lazy and out of shape?! But you ride your bike every day! You’re an athlete!”

Apparently, because I ride a bike, I am a superbly-conditioned, badly-dressed, soy-sucking environmentalist. Don’t you hate when people generalize?

A Biased Bike Travel Packing List

A gal’s guide to packing panniers for a cycling trip

Cycling Playa La Ventana (south of La Paz) in Baja Mexico

People fuss over bike travelers and how brave, adventurous and fit they are. But really, a bike traveler is just someone who wonders, “What if I rode my bike somewhere else…?” and does.

If you get around by bike at home, why not take it with you the next time you go “somewhere else?” It’s easy: pack your bike, pack some stuff, start pedaling and ta-da! You’re an Adventure Cyclist!

I credit my first foreign bike adventure – a winter getaway to Mexico’s Yucatan – to the fact that I’m too stubborn to break my daily cycling habit; too lazy to haul a heavy knapsack on and off buses; and too curious to just sit on a resort bar stool.

I aim for destinations that are warm, flat and mildly touristy. Why? Lighter gear, fewer hills and more places to enjoy a cheap, chilled, sociable beer at the end of the day.

Novice bike travelers agonize for months over what to bring on a trip, so I’ll share my own highly-biased, female-friendly, low-tech cyclist’s packing list. You may notice the absence of a cell phone, GPS and laptop, and the presence of mini-pads, brassieres and hair ties.

Does Cycling Make Me Sick?

Published in the January/February 2010 issue of Momentum: the magazine for self-propelled people.

Life on the edge (of traffic) has its pros and cons

Last spring I shared My Dirty Little Secret that sometimes I hate riding a bike. This winter I wonder if cycling hates me.

I’ve been bike commuting all my life and for many of those years, I’ve had a chronic cough. It’s a deep, seal-like bark that starts with a tickle in my throat and erupts into chest-wracking spasms. Minutes after stepping inside after a ride, the hacking starts and my friends wonder how I’ve managed to hide a two-pack-a-day habit.

The thing is: I don’t smoke. I’ve never smoked, and the only vice I’m guilty of is my addiction to tasty beer and tearing through town on a bike. I ride my bike to my chiropractor, who lauds my healthy lifestyle as she adjusts my spinal subluxation; and I ride my bike to my massage therapist, who pinches my seized trapezius muscles into submission.

“Do you ever see those photos of road racers at the podium?” asked Francois one time as he squeezed a rock-like cord of muscle in my neck. “They stand up there and they’re all round-shouldered from years of bending over their handlebars—like you!”

Good drivers, bad cyclists and a new kind of traffic

Published in the November/December 2009 issue of Momentum: the magazine for self-propelled people.

Do bicycles change the way we communicate?

With no windshields to mute it, this traffic talks to itself.

I was really looking forward to my dental appointment – the adjustment to my night-guard would be pain-free; but more importantly, I would enjoy a long ride across town on one of Vancouver’s traffic-calmed commuter bike routes to get there. I hadn’t done a good spin on it since before I’d left to live and cycle in India a year ago. When I returned I worked from home and – you’ll only hear this from a cyclist – I no longer commuted as much as I wished. I was curious: had traffic changed while I was away?

I set out in golden autumn air that shimmered off storefronts selling felt hats and pumpkin spice lattes.  One foot on the road, one foot on my pedal, I waited for a green light at a busy intersection. A coal-gray Pathfinder pulled up along side me at the white line.

“Hey, hello,” called the burly driver across his girlfriend in the passenger seat. I peered into the open window of the SUV, not quite sure what to expect.

Willie Weir: confessions of an adventure cyclist

[Published in the September/October 2009 issue of Momentum: the magazine for self-propelled people.]

Bicycle traveler’s new book describes experiences, not logistics

Writer, radio commentator and advocate Willie Weir has cycled over 60,000 miles around the globe

“I am not an avid cyclist,” admits Willie Weir in his new book Travels with Willie: Adventure Cyclist, “I am an avid traveler who has discovered that cycling is the best way to see the world.”

Weir is an award-winning writer, radio commentator and advocate in Seattle who has cycled over 60,000 miles around the globe. He writes a column about living and traveling by bicycle for Adventure Cyclist, a colorful magazine mailed to members of the nonprofit, Montana-based Adventure Cycling Association.

True to the association’s mission to “inspire people of all ages to travel by bicycle for fitness, fun, and self-discovery,” Weir’s writing describes the experience of riding a bicycle rather than the logistics. His new book is a collection of his columns, and nowhere in the paperback’s pages does this seasoned bicycle traveler even mention mileage, equipment, routes or the type of bike he rides.

Instead, Weir describes facing fear and finding adventure; guardian angels and going the wrong way; the kindness of strangers; communicating without a word; and the privilege of travel.

Social media sprout a social cycle club in Goa, India

Published in the July/August 2009 issue of Momentum Magazine.

How an average cyclist became an accidental activist in India

An early ride of the Goa Cycle Club

Here in Vancouver, Canada, I consider myself just another person in the city who rides a bike. I keep a pretty low profile compared to the cycling artists and advocates I admire. But something radical happened when I bought an Atlas bicycle, rode it, and wrote about riding it in Goa, India for six months. I became an accidental activist.

“Hi Ulrike,” wrote a reader in response to one of my Girl Gone Goa blog stories, “We’ve recently returned from the UK, to resettle here. I’ve brought back a bike, but as it needs some basic work, I’ve not begun pedalling here. Everyone here tells me I’d be crazy to try, so it’s good to hear of your experiences.”

“We” was Luis Dias and his wife Chryselle. They were Goan and keen to ride, though eight-month-pregnant Chyselle admitted she’d need to have the baby first. Luis and I headed to the Panjim ferry jetty and cycled and chatted along the Mandovi River. He said he was looking for a community project to dig his teeth into.

Cycling and Calvin Klein collide at the beauty counter

Face, meet the world of the food and beverage hostess

I'd rather be Audrey than tawdry

“What you need,” Christopher murmured, peering into my face, “is a silicone primer.”

Oddly, he wasn’t talking about bike frames. I had run into a department store to escape the rain and a handout In the ladies’ room had caught my attention. “Come by the Calvin Klein counter,” it suggested, “Receive a FREE Foundation Consultation and Sample!”

I wandered the maze of make-up boutiques until a red-haired woman at the Clinique counter with eerily perfect skin asked if she could help me.

I motioned at my handout. “I’m actually looking for the Calvin Klein counter but…” I offered, “you could show me what you’ve got since I’m here.”

“Well sure,” she said as she opened a tube of foundation, “We can dab a little on your hand if you like.” I looked down as she spread the flesh-toned liquid on the meat of my thumb. It blended in fine, but bits of lotion stuck in the lines of my skin. It reminded me of women I’d seen (usually in the late-night food and beverage industry) who walked around with tiny, tawdry channels of makeup dried into their eyelids.

I showed her the bits and told her that’s why I’d been avoiding foundation up til now. “Well,” she said sweetly, “That’s why you need to exfoliate.” I thanked her and headed for the Calvin Klein counter.

Klunkerz: Billy Savage’s MTB flick goes DVD

Now on film: the bikes, parties and people that made mountain bike history

It’s not something you should watch by yourself, Klunkerz. The independently written and produced DVD by fat-tire aficionado Billy Savage recounts mountain biking’s California days in the ’70′s and takes you there so vividly — with tons of footage, still photos, and interviews with a bunch of guys (and a couple of girls) who drank beer, smoked pot and then got on their damned bikes — that you and your friends will want to join in.

Wendell, Karen, Ian, Paul, Andrew and I didn’t light up, but we did crack a few beers in my living room one Friday night as we gathered to watch Savage’s flick. Finally on disk, Klunkerz has sold out theatres, won awards, and no doubt brought tears to a few MTBer’s eyes as it screened in the film, bike and sport circuits.

Filmmaker Savage demonstrates a genuine knowledge of the bikes, and rapport with the people who first dragged their heavy ’40′s and ’50′s-era Schwinns up a San Francisco-area mountain for kicks. Not only do many of the Mount Tamalpais riders — Joe Breeze, Gary Fisher, Tom Ritchey et al. — do screen time, but they share their stories and video footage with him in a way that feels trusted and intimate.

Not just talking heads, the film lingers on the stuff us riders love: the bikes, the parties and the trails that made Marin County famous. You actually see the 1.8 miles of fire road that the riders ate up (or ate them up, as injuries were frequent), the grease smoke coming off the hubs, and the keg-parties that fuelled the whole thing.

The editing is so sharp that the riders practically finish each others’ sentences. You get a real sense of their excitement and you’re reminded that at mountain biking’s heart, the message is universal: riding a bike is super fun, and you ought to try it.

Our gang really picked up on that. In discussion afterwards, Ian was stoked to see how how fun — rather than equipment — created the scene. Wendell liked seeing the riders’ passion turn into something huge, and Paul (an MTB Hall-of-Famer himself) was impressed by the amount of history that the film dug up that he hadn’t heard before. And I felt affirmed by how writers and photographers like Wende Cragg, Jacquie Phelan and Dogtown’s Ray Flores can play an important part in recording a movement and spreading the word.

Visit the Klunkerz web site at www.klunkerz.com to chat with Savage and order your own copy. For more on the history, I recommend the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame web site.

Published in the May/June 2008 Momentum Magazine.

A “gonzo” rail and bike trip around Western Canada

Being on a train is like riding a bicycle: it’s slow, social, historic, and rebellious

What is it about trains? And what was it about a train journey into western Canada that yanked on my heart hard enough to make my eyes water? That wasn’t the idea. When we first batted the idea around, Momentum editor Amy Walker and I played with a “gonzo car-free road trip” that would see me, a buddy, and a couple of bikes onto a few trains and into a few communities for laffs and blog stories.

To select a route I pored over road atlases and train brochures and happily found that, not only can you circle the region by train (as opposed to just going across), but that two rail providers ~ Rocky Mountaineer Vacations and VIA Rail Canada ~ are wowing the tourists doing just that.

Now, I’ve travelled by bike and train in Thailand, New Zealand and the U.S.; but it wasn’t until California-based Dahon put a couple of tour-ready folding bikes into my hands that I even considered doing it at home.

Dahon’s Speed TR and MU XL fold for bus and rail travel

UPDATE: May 12, 2013: I am now selling my travel-ready 2006 Dahon Speed TR described below. Contact me if you are interested.

Folding bikes lead to greener pastures

The Speed TR’s 24 speeds get you to the summit (click to view photos of this trip).

“Hey!” bellowed a voice across the Jasper train platform, “Is that one of those collapsible bikes?” Michelle and I had just gotten off VIA Rail’s westbound line and while she and her Dahon MU XL lounged at Freewheel Cycle, I was left to unfold my Dahon Speed TR surrounded by panniers, helmets and curious tourists in the shadow of the station.

“Yes, it is,” I said patiently over my shoulder. We were halfway through our four-week rail-and-bike exploration of western Canada, and our pair of tour-ready folding bikes never ceased to draw stares and questions.

“What’s something like that cost?” the American asked, stepping closer.
“Folding bikes range in price from $200 to $2000,” I replied. “Do you want to see me fold it?”
“Oh yeah!” he gushed.
“Great!” I straightened up, “That’ll be ten bucks!”

Gary Fisher: down from the mountain

Mountain biking scenester sees fun and profit in city cycling trend

It’s not unusual for a few of us at Momentum to gather around a table at Gastown’s Irish Heather, order some meat pies and Kilkennies, and brainstorm on cures for the common car. What made it unusual one rainy night last November was that the most fervent ideas came from Gary Fisher.

Fisher was in town for the weekend to help Cap’s Bicycle Shop celebrate their 75th birthday (they were the first shop in Canada to carry Gary Fisher’s fledgling line of mountain bikes back in 1980) and as he put it, “I picked up a copy of Momentum at a bike shop, read it, and went “wow!”

“It felt really good,” relates the bike industry veteran on why he requested a meet-up, “It was people who had the right attitude ~ and I thought I’d just try to investigate.” Being “investigated” by Gary Fisher is kind of like being offered a drink by a Sony Music A&R rep. The man’s talking your language and you’re charmed by the attention, but you kind of wonder where his hands have been.

Same place as yours, it turns out: wrapped around bicycle grips and bullhorns. Only, he’s Gary Fisher and he literally invented the term “mountain bike”. He’s very successfully sold the mountain bike lifestyle to the world-at-large, and now he says he’s wants to do the same for urban cycling.

“Okay,” you say as the waiter slides a fresh pint in front of you, “I’m listening.”

Joe Breeze: on naked bikes and self-propelling prophecies

MTB pioneer admits trail biking was a “diversion” from his real passion

It’s not even lunch time yet and Joe Breeze has already blown my mind. Breeze ~ who with Gary Fisher, Tom Ritchey, and other Mountain Bike Hall-of-Famers basically invented the sport ~ has just admitted over the phone that if he hadn’t been so distracted by that whole fat-tire repack thing, he might have gotten down to what he really wanted to do a whole lot sooner: design commuter bicycles.

“The off-road thing was a diversion from my plan,” admits the creator of Breezer Bikes from his Marin County work space, “It wasn’t part of the script. It just happened…like life.”

“My interest in city bikes came long before mountain bikes,” he explains. “My father commuted to his job in the 1950′s by bike, so I grew up aware of that aspect of bikes.” Breeze rode to school and around his neighbourhood as a kid, but it wasn’t until the 17-year-old bike-toured in Europe that his eyes opened to bike transportation culture.

Says Breeze, “Nowhere was this so pronounced as in Holland with their extensive bicycle thoroughfares, cloverleaf interchanges and bicycle traffic signals….I thought, ‘We’ve got to do this in America!’”

Joe returned home inspired, and got involved in the beginnings of the region’s bicycling infrastructure. Perhaps more significant to the history of cycling, he also paid five bucks for a beat-up 1941 Schwinn Excelsior and turned it into what would eventually be called a “mountain bike“.