Live from Austin!

For years now, I’ve been curious about recumbent trikes. It turns out that Austin has a recumbent store, Easy Street Recumbents, and they had a mini show today. We went along and took a look.

I tried out three trikes: the Catrike Villager, the TerraTrike Path, and the Scarab 2026.

The Catrike was first. Setting off I was immediately struck by how comfortable it was compared to a regular bike, probably because of the relatively upright seating. The shortish wheelbase made it feel maneuverable, but I wasn’t a fan of the direct steering system. Like a classic racing bike, it didn’t take much movement of the steering to turn the bike. Unlike a racer, the controls felt somewhat stiff–probably deliberately so–and didn’t move far.

I rode a racer for years, but I never liked the steering. When I went back to a mountain bike, the feel of the handlebars gave me a sense of relief. So while the Catrike steering didn’t really rock my world, that’s likely just a matter of personal taste. The gear system worked well, and overall the bike felt zippy and fun. There was another big surprise when I got off and lifted the bike back into its parking spot–it was very light, much lighter than I expected.

Next I tried the TerraTrike Path. This time the steering was more like a mountain bike or regular roadster, so I felt more in control. The downside this time was the gearshift, which was horrible. The trike has a Sturmey-Archer 3 speed hub, with gears shifted via a rotary control on the grip. Unfortunately, the tandard rotary shifter used was designed for conventional handlebars, where you’d naturally end up gripping it with thumb and first finger; when it’s on the TerraTrike, the twist ring is at the bottom of the grip, making it difficult to move. Apart from that–which would probably be easy enough to fix by switching to some kind of lever or trigger shifter–the TerraTrike was awesome.

Then I tried the Scarab. This was quite similar to the TerraTrike, but with a derailleur, like the Catrike–in fact, both seem to use SRAM shifters. The steering is like the TerraTrike, but mounted lower. It had a more robust yet somehow less pleasing feel. However, like the Catrike, this trike had no gearshift problems, and it was a blast overall.

So, three great trikes, all pretty affordable, but with different design tradeoffs. (I wonder if a Shimano Nexus and some Jtek bar-end shifters wouldn’t be the ultimate solution?)

We also tried the TerraTrike recumbent tandem, because how often do you get a chance to do that? It was a totally awesome experience, and I can see that it would make for great shared exercise time, as you can have a conversation with your partner. Of course, the turning circle is positively car-like…

Which brings me on to the big issues that don’t really have anything to do with the trikes per se. The first is storage. I think it would be possible to fit a single trike in the garage as well as the car, if I tidied up and put some shelves in rather than leaving junk on the floor. However, getting the trike in and out would require removing the car first. I guess not having a two-car garage like a Real American does have a downside after all.

The second issue is the one I grapple with when considering most big purchases: would I actually use the product enough to make it worth buying? I tend to assume I won’t, but I was wrong about the elliptical machine. That said, I’m definitely not buying a trike in the immediate future. But now that I’ve experienced one, I may mull over the idea more seriously.

I did one of those online religion questionnaires. I’m not going to reproduce the whole list of what it suggested for me; the interesting part is it rated Buddhism above Secular Humanism. (Specifically, Therevada Buddhism.)

Intellectually, that’s spot on, but the problem I always have is observance. Somehow I seem to be unable to sustain a practice of regular meditation. And without at least that, I don’t see that I could honestly describe myself as a Buddhist.

On the plus side, I managed to keep exercising through until the Christmas vacation; and now that the new year has started and my back has settled down a bit, I’m back to exercising daily, at least during the week. (It didn’t happen this weekend, for various timing reasons.)

Most people manage to keep going to church or otherwise practicing religion, but fail to exercise. I suppose I should consider myself lucky that my problem is the other way around.

I didn’t drive until 2004. I relied on public transit to get everywhere. This meant that I thought nothing of walking for half an hour to get where I wanted to be, and then walking back afterwards. Especially if the bus didn’t turn up.

In Massachusetts, I would start to gain weight as winter set in; all my body wanted me to do was eat and stay in bed. But in spring and summer, I’d walk it all off again.

And then I learned to drive, and we got a car and moved to Texas. Now in summertime I find myself glad to get back into the air conditioning after a brief stroll across the parking lot. I started getting heavier in summer, rather than in winter.

Oh, it can be beautiful in fall, winter and spring, especially evenings. But even after concerted effort, I wasn’t getting anything like as much exercise as I used to, and I was gradually getting fatter. Clearly I had to do something.

The traditional solution most Americans favor is to join a gym and not go to it. This gives you the feeling that you’re doing something positive, while still leaving you with all your valuable couch time. However, gym memberships are expensive, and school experiences have left me with an indelible view of locker rooms and gyms as places of ritual torture and humiliation.

Another popular solution is to buy an exercise machine. This has distinct advantages over a gym membership. For starters, it’s a one time expense, which is better than a gym membership if you know you’re just throwing money away. In addition, the machine can be used as a place to hang shirts, ties, and other apparel you’re too lazy to put in the closet where it belongs. And if you need the space, you can do what our last landlord did, and put the exercise machine out in the yard to act as a kind of rust sculpture and casual birdfeeder.

I did some research, and elliptical machines seemed to be the best option. They are low-impact exercise for the cardiovascular system, provide some exercise for the upper body, the machines are quiet, and some of the newer ones are quite small. I found that a local store had a good deal on one, and bribed some friends to help transport it home as the box wouldn’t fit in the car.

Some assembly was required. In fact, putting the device together was a good dose of exercise to start with. Everything seemed to work, including the electronic control panel and the servos that adjust the magnetic resistance, and the next day I tried it out for real.

And much to my surprise, I’ve been exercising pretty much every day since then. It has been one month with the machine, and have skipped exercise on only a couple of days when work and social engagements made it impossible to find a solid block of time. Exercise has become a habit, which I gather is one of the secrets to actually doing it. I now separate work from a relaxed evening by burning off around 2500 kJ. I can listen to radio shows, and I don’t have to interact with strangers in the shower. I’ve dropped 2kg so far.

I’ve realized that I have a problem. During my formative years I was effectively trained to associate gyms and locker rooms with misery, pain and humiliation. This makes it very difficult to maintain a regular exercise regime.

Oh, sure, there’s biking and walking. Unless it’s summer, when it’s too hot, or winter when it’s dark and wet and sometimes cold, or spring when I’m in allergy hell.

So I find myself thinking about exercise machines. As in, being able to exercise at home without having to deal with locker rooms, and listen to the iPod while doing so. The problem with that scenario is I know that most people who buy exercise machines proceed to let them sit and collect dust, and I’m not entirely convinced I’d do any better.