The coastal climate keeps it from snowing in Amsterdam as much as you’d figure for a place quite far north and with a reputation for considerable rainfall. Some winters it hardly snows at all while some winters it begins in November and snows regularly until spring. Still it almost never snows more than perhaps ten centimeters and then it usually warms up a couple days later, making a slushy, dirty mess and gradually disappearing.

This winter, however, it’s already snowed more in November and the first half of December than we usually see all year. No matter; we have our bikes to get around and today’s snowfall was just what I needed to remember that. This morning I had a plan to train at the Velodrome with my friend Toon. Yes, I still do that sort of thing and no, there is no conflict between being a cyclist for both transportation and fun/fitness. The Amsterdam Velodrome is great way to stay fit when it’s like this outside. It’s just warm enough to wear shorts and even in a snowstorm there are 30 or 40 riders in a training session paceline.


Here’s a picture I coincidentally found of Toon at the Velodrome. See? Nice and warm and dry and fast; sure beats sitting on a stationary trainer at home.

The only challenge today was that I had my track bike at home, not in the storage at the velodrome. Carrying a bike while riding a bike is no big deal; usually I do it with the bakfiets. The front wheel comes off and I strap the handlebar against the back of the box. The rear wheel stands on the front edge of the box and a pair of straps hold the whole rig upright. Looks a little funny but it works like a charm. You might be thinking “Why doesn’t he just ride with the track bike rolling alongside like most normal folks would do?” Or alternatively “Why doesn’t he just ride that darn track bike like the entire world population of skinny-jeans with U-lock wearing, butt-crack showing hipsters. And there is a reason: At a wooden velodrome it’s not allowed to ride on tires that have ever been ridden outside. They can pick up debris that would damage the track surface.

Anyhow Kyoko needed the bakfiets to bring the kids to the daycare this morning and for reasons to mundane to explain our Fr8 city bike was at the shop. That left me with my Brompton folding bike, which actually sucks in snow much less than you’d expect. It is sketchy handling on the slippery, squishy stuff but it’s also very low to the ground making it really easy to do the one foot “outrigger” or tripod thing. So for lack of a better option I set the saddle a few cm lower than usual, tossed the track bike on my right shoulder and set off through about 10cm of unplowed snow holding the Brompton’s handlebar with my left hand. Comfortable it was not but neither was it dangerous; I just had a few kilometers to ride, almost entirely on separated bike paths. I didn’t fall until I tried to dismount at Toon’s house. Then I discovered that the neighborhood road I’d been cycling on was as slippery as a greased pig and fell immediately on my butt with two bikes on top of me. So much for grace.

I did consider the other transport options this morning:

Car: Well, we don’t have one of our own. I could probably have borrowed a friend’s car but it’s parked about half as far away as I had to ride anyway. In any case auto traffic around the city was a mess. The few snowplows they have here were running way behind the heavy snowfall and cars were stuck everywhere.

Tram: There’s a tram that runs between our two houses, with just another few minutes walk on his end. Problem is that the trams and buses were all getting stuck behind the floundering cars and trucks. One of my Workcycles colleagues spent half the afternoon trying to cross the city by tram and finally ended up walking most of it out of frustration. The trams that are running smoothly are jam packed so I also wouldn’t have made any friends carrying a bike frame and a pair of wheels.

Taxi:That would be convenient aside from sitting in traffic while watching the meter tick away at the alarmingly fast Amsterdam taxi rate. Oh, yes, I’d still have to disassemble and reassemble the bike to fit it in the trunk. Basically we only take taxis in Amsterdam when headed to deliver a baby or return home with that baby. Four times thus.

Walking: The distance was just too far for a reasonable walk. It would have taken well over an hour.

This evening after work I rode the Cargobike (bakfiets) to the daycare to pick the kids up. By then quite a bit more snow had fallen and it was either packed down into ice on the car roads or half packed and half sliced up into zig-zag tracks on the bike paths. The bakfiets is actually quite good in such crappy cycling conditions. Though the front wheel is lightly loaded and slides fairly easily the low center of gravity and long wheelbase make for very forgiving handling. Kyoko and I both prefer it to our city bikes when it’s slippery. When it’s as slippery as it was this evening falling is more an inevitability than a bad scenario. Falling with the children under a tough canopy in the wooden box of the bakfiets is annoying for you but probably just funny for your kids. Falling with kid(s) on child seats on a regular bike will result in at least one snowy, screaming kid.

I did drop the bakfiets once this evening; After successfully navigating the paths, roads and sidewalks (hey, whatever works when it looks like this out) to our home I once again today fell on my butt after dismounting at my destination. Two year old Pascal’s response while on his side under the canopy? “Bakfiets Boom! Bakfiets Boom!”

This is a slightly updated repost: Winter is upon us somewhat early this year and this is highly relevant info for anybody who cycles through the winter, especially if your bike is stored outdoors.

By far the most common problem that the cyclist encounters with winter cycling is the brake or gear cables freezing. This is generally the result of water condensing or dripping into the cable housing and then freezing, effectively bonding the inner cable to the housing. It only takes a tiny bit of water to do this but we fortunately have a solution. Read below for an explanation.
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We arrived at work yesterday figuring that the sub-zero cold, wind and snow would keep most of the customers away, leaving us with time to work on some projects. The highest priority is reconfiguring our workshop after building a massive, floor-anchored, steel frame to hang our electric bike lifts from. It’s a great improvement but not entirely our own initiative. The lifts, you see, were bolted into the 150 or 200 year old wooden beams of our ceiling… and thus the floor of the neighbors upstairs. Though the lifts are nearly new and operate very quietly they do make some vibration. Standing on the concrete (over sand) floor we never noticed this vibration but it drove the lady upstairs crazy. Actually she’s complained very vocally and angrily about a lot of things, apparently calling and writing every possible authority on a regular basis. Most of her complaints have nothing to do with our activities (there’s another bike workshop next door and several apartments have been renovated), but the vibration was a legitimate issue according to the various city inspectors who visited to investigate.

So the city ordered the building owner (a social housing corporation that manages tens of thousands of properties) to fix the vibration problem. It was decided that the only solution was to totally isolate the lifts from the floor beams, and the only practical way to do that was to build a steel frame all the way to the floor. We’re very fortunate and thankful that they took care of the job and paid for it. But it still requires an investment of several days of our labor to refit the lifts and lights. We took the opportunity to make them fully adjustable on both X and Y axis as well as angle, and now we’re adding more lights. I don’t think a workshop can ever have enough light.

Comments one year later: Apparently the frame has solved the vibration problem since we haven’t heard a peep from our upstairs neighbor. Meanwhile the mechanics are very happy to have been able to adjust the lifts to exactly the location and angle where they can most efficiently and comfortably work.

For those of you who build and repair (heavy) city and transport bikes: Such lifts are absolutely the only way to work. These bikes are much too heavy and unwieldy to manually heft into the workstands used in most bike shops outside the Netherlands. Those are intended for lighter, recreational bikes. The lifts are also highly flexible; You can lift only the front or rear, or perhaps one side of a big three wheeler. When working on something other than bikes you can simply raise the hooks above head height and then you’ve lots of free floor space – often really handy in a shop that builds and repairs wooden boxes.

Anyhow, this is all we were thinking about yesterday morning so I got busy with the scaffold, drills, plugs, screws and wiring to hang the fluorescent boxes on our ancient ceiling. And then the first snowy Cargobike and customer came in:

Customer: “My bike is almost impossible to ride. It’s really slow, and I think the brake lever might be broken.”

Mechanic: “I’m pretty sure your cables are frozen.”

Customer: “But I think there’s also something wrong with the brake.”

Mechanic: “The brakes are probably fine but they’re being locked by the frozen cables.”

Customer: “Oh wait, now it seems to be fine.”

Mechanic: “Sure, your bike is indoors so the cable just thawed, releasing the brake. It’ll freeze again a few moments after going outside. If you can wait 15 minutes I’ll fix it.

While working on this bike another snowy bike came in with the same problem, and so it went the whole day. Alexis and I pulled and flushed the cables of at least 15 bikes yesterday. The problem is that Amsterdam bikes live outdoors, rain or shine. Tiny amounts of water drip and condense into the cable housings. On good quality bikes the cables are stainless steel and the housings are lined with polyethelene or another low friction plastic so the water doesn’t make much difference… until the thermometer goes below the freezing point. Then the cable freezes inside the housing. Usually it creates enough friction that pulling hard on the brake lever will overcome the friction, actuating the brake but the brake’s return spring cannot pull it back… thus locked brakes.

So here’s what you do to fix (or prevent) a frozen cable:

1. Let it thaw.

2. Remove the crimped end cap and make sure the end of the cable isn’t unwound or damaged. If it is either rewind, shorten or replace the cable as necessary.

3. Remove any kinks in the cable so that it can easily be pulled and reinserted through the housing.

4. Pull the cable out.

5. Seal the nozzle of a compressed air pistol against the upper end of the housing and blow everything possible out of the housing.

6. Seal the dispenser straw of a suitable light oil against the brake lever end of the housing. It might be necessary to pull the housing cap to do this. We use a generic multipurpose oil with teflon but just about any light oil should work fine. Don’t use “dry” type lubricant because it won’t displace the water for long.

7. Spray the oil into the housing until it begins coming out the other end.

5.5 Oops. Put a rag at the brake end of the housing to catch the oil coming out at great velocity.

8-9-10. Thread the cable back into the housing, readjust the brake and crimp a new end on.

This fix is valid for any brake (or gear) cable but I’m basically assuming the bike has roller brakes here. Drum brakes can pull their own freezing tricks and rim brakes simply aren’t suitable for storing outdoors and riding in snow country. Now the techies can ask me why I didn’t write anything about disk brakes.

This experience also demonstrates something about Amsterdam cyclists: Not only do they store their bikes on the street, they also ride in ALL conditions including snow. Of course they do; How else would they get to work, take the kids to school, do the groceries and visit their friends?

Speaking of snow, here’s a sneak peek at our surprising new development: The WorkCycles Child Transport Sled. We’re strong proponents of the K.I.S.S. philosophy (Keep It Simple Stupid) and our Sled meets the K.I.S.S. criteria beautifully: It needs no wheels, tires, bearings, towing linkage or even harnesses. Just shove the kid in and go! It’s versatile too: You can pull it while walking, tie the patented “S.T.R.A.P.” (Singular Tied/Releasable Attaching Piece-of-plastic-webbing) to your bike or even have your dog(s) or oxen pull it from a yoke. When there’s no snow it can be attached to the front carrier of your bike as a convenient transport bin.

In testing the WorkCycles sled we also learned that Amsterdammers not only ride their bikes all year round in all conditions, they can also make really big snowballs.

The Sinterklaas “Intocht” (arrival parade) needs no introduction for the locals who began chasing Sinterklaas and his many “Zwarte Pieten”along the Amstel river and through the streets of Amsterdam as toddlers. It goes approximately as follows:

Sinterklaas is the Dutch equivalent of Santa Claus. While they’re both apparently Saint Nicholas only Sint’s white beard bears any resemblance to the fat “Ho Ho Ho!” fellow in the red snowsuit who flies his reindeer driven sleigh from the North Pole. Sinterklaas is tall, skinny, serious and righteous. He comes not from the north, but by ship from Spain. Sint himself is not actually Spanish; he’s Turkish. I suppose it’s all really a lot less weird than flying a reindeer powered sleigh from the North Pole.


Sinterklaas on his white horse


Santa Claus in his reindeer-powered flying sleigh

While Santa Claus has some elves to help him out Sint has an entire army of Zwarte Pieten (Black Petes). The Pieten do the heavy lifting as well as the “naughty or nice” judging of the children. Naughty children get their gifts replaced by coal and truly heinous kids are stuffed into a sack and brought back to Spain. I’ve never been clear on just what despicable crimes a child must commit to be sentenced to a holiday in Spain but I assume it must be worse than struggling to avoid having their teeth brushed or head-butting their baby sister.

Pascal didn’t get stuffed into a sack and brought to Spain but he did get a bunch of pepernoten dumped on his head by a mischievous Piet.

Depending on who’s telling the story in what era Zwarte Piet has variously been depicted as a shackled devil, a chimney sweep, a Moor colorfully dressed as a renaissance era page, or a Moor colorfully dressed as a renaissance era page whose face is blacked from descending many chimneys. The first explanation has been abandoned since it doesn’t sound nice to modern children and the rest each have their modern adherents. In the modern tradition Zwarte Piet, or rather an entire battalion of Zwarte Pieten, have been played by men and women in blackface which provokes a surprisingly little bit of controversy for it’s being potentially racist (depending on which version of the story you want to believe).

Only confusing an already convoluted story: A Moorish Piet probably wouldn’t even be black since what the Europeans referred to as “Moors” were mostly Berbers and Arabs from northern Africa. As a resident of a city with a considerable population with roots in this region I can assure you that they’re usually not particularly dark skinned. But heck, Shakespeare also portrayed Othello as black in so who am I to argue? Not that any of this is terribly relevant aside from showing how confused traditions can get.

Racist or controversial or not this is an enormously popular celebration, as witnessed by some half million happy fans lining the streets of Amsterdam in the rain (remember: We’re not made of sugar.) cheering the arrival of Sinterklaas and 670 Zwarte Pieten. Interestingly I spotted what seemed to be a handful of black Zwarte Pieten, also in blackface of course.

Each year Sint and the Pieten load up a ship full of “pepernoten” (little cookies like ginger snaps) and stuff in Spain and sail for Holland. Their exact route is unclear but they do end up sailing up the Amstel, which is odd considering that this is inland from Amsterdam. Perhaps they’ve chosen another inland route to pick up carrots for the horses or something.

Zwarte Piet with a nice big carrot for the horses.

Once they reach the Amstel thousands of families with kids on bikes and in bakfietsen ride along the banks cheering Sint and the Pieten onward. The ship lands by the Scheepvaartsmuseum (the shipping museum) in the center of Amsterdam and Zwarte Pieten and Sint parade through the streets in all manner of Dutch vehicles and conveyances.

Inline skate Piet with balance bike Pascal.

Sinterklaas rides his white horse while the various Pieten show their preferences for Workcycles transport bikes, but also inline skates, unicycles, fire engines and in an unfortunate development this year: scooters. Yuck, we don’t like scooters, but we’ll discuss the problem of scooters on the bike paths another day.

Degenerate Pieten on scooters

Meanwhile we’re doing our best to keep our own kids from going down the gateway drug, slippery slope of scooterdom, beginning of course by cycling daily with them from about a month old.

A couple young bakfiets passengers

It could eventually backfire but thus far it seems to be working; Pascal is absolutely crazy about his teeny bike, insisting on riding it everywhere we go. He calls it his “Beanits bicycle” (BMX bicycle). Not only are we getting a kick out of watching him ride we’re also not complaining about no longer having to carry him around, nor about him coming home exhausted from a day of “cycling” all over the city, ready for a nap.

At such a young age (two) kids learn such motor skills amazingly quickly. After just a couple weeks on the bike Pascal figured out he could push off and ride with his feet in the air. Two weeks later he’s maneuvering along busy sidewalks, up and down Amsterdam’s cobblestoned bridges and “jumping” off steps and curbs. Obviously we don’t let him get too far since a two year old’s judgement must be pretty close to nil but he’s been very well behaved so far… which partially explains why he didn’t get shipped to Spain last week.

His first Halloween costume? The great Eddy Merckx of course!

Well, it’s at least thought provoking… especially if you can ignore such details as the radial spoked front wheel with disk brake and the lack of several important, practical details. Most notably, where’s the little fold down seat for a toddler?

From here on Designboom

Thanks to Sjoerd of Double Dutch in Switzerland.

Apologies for the lack of blogging action here at BeM. We’re just super busy with “business as usual” at Workcycles and taking turns going on holiday after lots of busy business as usual for many months.

What’s new? Well, speaking of toddlers, lots of things though the most recent proud papa moment was 26 month old Pascal suddenly deciding that the balance bike (loopfiets) is cool after all. So he just got on and pushed off. A week later he’s tearing around like he was born on the thing. It’s quite surreal to see a two year old riding a bike. I haven’t had a chance to snap any photos yet so here are a couple just a week earlier of P1 demonstrating his mad scooter skills. He’s been riding this little Micro Mini scooter (€70 at Workcycles!) for 8 months already so the balance thing is already second nature; riding the bike was just a matter of doing the same on a different shaped vehicle. Actually he pedals a tricycle around at the daycare so, in principle, he could already put the two skills together and ride a pedal powered bike already… except that I don’t think there are any bikes small enough for such young kids. It’s doubtful he could reliably operate either a handbrake or coaster brake, so this little bike would probably have to be a fixed gear like the antique Dutch kids bikes we’ve restored. I have to admit liking the idea of building a teeny-weeny fixie, complete with mismatched wheels, top tube pad and a couple Knog lights but really, riding a balance bike until he’s three won’t exactly stunt his development.

Sometimes he goes a bit overboard and takes a spill but thus far he’s never hurt himself. Mostly he laughs and just jumps right back on. I imagine it helps to have begun developing these skills at such a young age but anyhow, I suppose a toddler who’s trying to ride skateboards he makes from Lego blocks and wheels needs a little space.

I first wrote about P1′s little scooter, balance bike and baby bakfiets half a year ago: Pascal has a bakfiets too.

More importantly, what’s keeping us busy and me in a steady stream of proud papa moments is that we’re now a family of four. P1 is now Pia’s (P2) big brother.

Here they are, snug as bugs in rugs, in the family Truckster (a.k.a. Bakfiets Cargobike). Pia’s napping in the Maxi-Cosi while Pascal no longer needs (nor wants) his toddler support seat (a Bobike Mini with its mounting equipment removed). Here they demonstrate that kid(s) can sit on the bench together with baby in Maxi-Cosi, all weather protected by the canopy. As far as I’m aware Workcycles’ Maxi-Cosi carrier is the only way to do this.

Last night I loaded our freshly refinished (in RAL 2004 “pure orange”) dinner table into one of our big, classic rental bakfietsen in order to bring it home. This morning I was then faced with the dilemma of how to both return the bakfiets to the shop AND bring Pascal to his “creche” (daycare center), both about a kilometer or two from home. Do I dare let an almost two year old sit in the 190 x 85cm box untethered, unhelmeted, unpadded, unrollcaged…? After some deliberation with Mama-en-meer we decided that it should be OK, particularly since Pascal has logged enough thousands of cycling kilometers to not have much urge to do anything stupid and terrible-twos-toddler-like. Besides, we figured, the bakfiets has a top speed of about 10km/hr and everybody (even taxis!) gives it a nice, wiiiiiiide berth.


The old table I just painted orange.

So upon arriving at street level instead of Pascal climbing into mama’s cargobike or being lifted onto papa’s Workcycles Fr8 he was propped into the back of the bak, tucked between the moving blankets and my courier bag. I released the parking brake between my legs and rolled off the curb, still curious whether child would just stay where I put him or insist upon “exploring” the nearly two meters of mahogany playground in front of him. I’m happy to report that we figured correctly; Pascal was perfectly happy to sit back near me, feet out front, calling out the “autos”, “cheeps”, “big ships”, “monononos”, “bicipas” and “tjams” as we rode. We got a few approving smiles and no disapproving looks that I could see. Isn’t it unfortunate few kids outside of the Netherlands can have such experiences?

We always go on this bike now?

This is 19 month old Pascal’s absolute favorite-est toy; a toddler-sized mini bakfiets purchased last year on Queen’s day for €5 and fixed up a little. Whenever he visits dad at work(cycles) (which is quite often since we live just five minutes bike ride away) Pascal immediately searches out his bakfietsje. He then races around the showroom and workshop, deliberately slamming head-on into chairs, doors and shins. Thankfully he avoids the bikes. Sometimes he’ll fill the box with bells, locks, Brooks handlebar grips or whatever products he can reach and “transports” them to far-flung corners of the building.

The other day when I picked Pascal up at the daycare the women there commented that he seems oddly obsessed with the little bicycles, tricycles and rideable vehicles. Apparently he goes from one vehicle to the next much of the day, doing a few laps, “testing” them for fun factor, and generally hoarding them. Hmmm, how strange… I can’t imagine where he got this from.

Pascal also likes the tiny Micro Mini scooters in the shop though this one definitely takes second place to his baby-bakfiets. Probably the scooter is actually still just too big for him. Pascal rides it without problem but the handlebar is at about his chin height, nose height before he’s standing on it.

The same also seems to be the case with the Micro G-Bike “loopfiets” (pedal-less balance bike) we have here. It’s made for kids about 2 years old and up and Pascal can just barely get his leg over it. He’ll go a couple steps, never really settle into the saddle and then fall over. He tries it every now and then but it’s clearly frustrating.

Micro G-Bike

There are a lot of loopfietsen available, a number of which are good. We like and sell the Micro G-Bike (and its bigger G-Bike + brother) because:

Prices:

They’re all available to try and in stock a at WorkCycles Lijnbaansgracht shop.

Since Pascal loves riding these bikes and little vehicles so much I figured I’d tinker a bit to see whether he would actually ride the G-Bike already if it were lower. I replaced the 120mm wheels with a pair of 80mm inline skate wheels I had. This lowers the bike by 2cm which is a lot considering the saddle is normally only 30cm high in the lowest position. Kyoko and I each rolled around on it, clown style, and it rides just fine. It’s just slower over carpet and bumps. Of course it’ll be more inclined to get stuck in holes outdoors but once he’s ready to ride beyond the living room or playground I’ll just put the original wheels back on.

A toddler on a two wheeler without training wheels might sound like crazy-talk to those not in the Netherlands but actually it’s quite normal here. Dutch kids grow up sitting on mom and dad’s bikes and learn to ride at a very young age. Training wheels (which are actually counterproductive) are thankfully disappearing in favor of “loopfietsen” (balance bikes, run bikes, training bikes…). Just today while an expat family was in the shop testing (adult) bakfietsen I asked their five year old daughter whether she could ride a bike yet. “No, only with training wheels.” Much to her parents’ surprise I handed her a loopfiets and commented to them that she’d ride a two-wheeler by the time they left. As it turns out my statement was conservative; the little girl pointed the bike down the length of the shop, made a couple careful first steps, pushed off and lifted both feet in the air, gliding along until another push was needed. Mission accomplished. Her folks can now remove the training wheels from her own bike.

…was luckily also “papa day”. Thursday’s are dad’s weekday to hang out with Pascal. Since a 19 month old demands pretty much full-time attention it means a (nearly) no work day. We do all kind of things on papa day: ride to the zoo, walk around Amsterdam doing errands and checking out every park and playground along the way, visit friends… If it’s decent weather we often go for a bike ride.

Today was beautiful, at least by Dutch late winter standards. After breakfast we got on the bike and then we rode until early evening. We stopped at several playgrounds to test their slides (P’s favorite). The big, curvy one near the wind turbines was the winner. We sat on the terrace of a cafe and shared a chicken saté and frites. We checked out a running windmill where they still grind grains and the nice bakkers bakfiets out front. We even climbed “Het Kopje van Bloemendaal” the biggest hill in the area (43 meters!).

Of course our daily ride bikes are equipped with child seats but I also have a bike especially for longer, recreational rides with the family. It’s essentially a heavy-duty touring bike somewhat modified to make it comfortable and safe with a toddler in a front child seat and it works really well. It has full fenders and dynamo lights so rain and darkness aren’t real problems. With a triple crank and derailleur gearing I can climb hills. I usually bring one pannier with kid essentials: diaper/wipes, snacks, jacket, spare clothes etc. Speaking of panniers I absolutely hate the Vaude roll-tops I’ve got. Sure they’re waterproof and lightweight but having only one compartment is a total pain in the butt; all of the little stuff you need falls to the bottom, my camera bangs against the lock or keys and so on. Next panniers will have little compartments, will stand up when off the bike, and will be quick to open and close. I’m thinking Carradice canvas or something along those lines.

In any case we’ve racked up a lot of family kilometers both around Holland and on holiday in France. Pascal sits in front of me in a Bobike Mini seat. When he naps I drape an arm over his little handlebar cushion so that his head rests in my arm. I’ve climbed entire mountains like this since you can’t always predict when a little kid will fall asleep. Our heads are only a few centimeters apart so we can “talk” easily. Pascal points out the animals (wanwan, baaahh, moooo…) and vehicles (monono, kruk, batchi, pee pee…), and particularly gets a kick out of hearing his voice flutter when we ride over rough surfaces: “Waa-aa-a-aaa-aa-a-aaaaa!” Being a typical dad I thought this was unique but it turns out lots of kids do exactly the same thing. As long as the scenery/action is good, and we stop to play or eat each hour or so Pascal will happily ride and babble all day… and that makes me very happy.

We were back at the panda portrait thing on the way to dinner this evening on the bakfiets cargobike. Still haven’t gotten around to mounting the camera to get Kyoko in the shot too. I guess we don’t really plan these things.

One could actually debate whether these are truly “pandas” considering that the one taking the picture (Kyoko) is not the one piloting the bike (me). But, in our defense all three of us are riding on the bike and considering that poles, remotes, tripods are acceptable for pandas I cannot see why a passenger photographer would not be accepted.

Actually I’d like to take some shots of how we usually ride as a family: Pascal in the box, me piloting and Kyoko side-saddle on the rear carrier. But to do that we’d have to mount the camera and operate it remotely, something that would actually require planning.

After work Kyoko, Pascal and I walked over to a sunny cafe in the Singel, chilled out for a while and took a few pictures into the low sun. Pascal is really getting the hang of this Amsterdam cafe life.

Just a little trivia: The cafe is called Zeezicht, meaning “sea view”. It’s probably been there forever, certainly since before Centraal Station blocked the view to the Ij river. However it still seems unlikely that one could have seen the river from here and seeing the “sea” will not be possible until global warming puts most of this country too far underwater for dikes and pumps to keep it only moist.

I periodically see fellow bloggers denigrating the “lycra crowd” with the basic idea that recreational cycling (at least if it involves wearing special clothes) is the antithesis of utilitarian cycling and just plain old bad. But why? Cycling is just plain wonderful, whether riding the bakfiets across town to bring the kids to school, or riding up a mountain with friends. All work and no play makes a dull boy! There has to be a place in the world for objects and activities without productive function. Otherwise there would be no art, sports, play, hobbies or fun… and that world would suck.

And many activities (productive or otherwise) are enhanced by donning specific gear. The doctor pulls on scrubs for surgery, the construction worker wears tough trousers with gear loops, knee pads and steel toed boots, and the fireman stays warm but not crispy in his Nomex coat and helmet. If you’re going to spend the day in the saddle you’ll probably be most comfortable in cycling clothes. Whether you’ll look good in them or not is another story.

I’m also perplexed by why people believe it’s impossible to be both a cyclist for transportation AND and cyclist for fun. I ride a no-nonsense utility bike every day to get around the city, and then (weather, work and family permitting) I get on one of my lovely sporty bikes and ride for a few hours. For much of my life that meant riding fast: training and competing in races. With the addition of Pascal our recreational cycling has generally become a family activity. Today we took maximal advantage of a Sunday with perfect cycling weather: We were out for 6 hours, though one doesn’t ride very fast while holding a sleeping baby in one arm, nor cover much distance with multiple cafe stops.

Anyhow, just ride your bike. Certainly do it for transportation, but don’t let the hair-shirt idealists stop you from going nowhere useful on your bike… in the tightest lycra sausage suit if you wish.