I finally got to enjoy myself a bit last weekend. Naturally, the first thing I did was go on a bike ride. Well, technically, first I had to find a bike. There’s a bike shop that I pass by at the end of the neighborhood where I’m staying in The Hague. They have a bunch of used bikes that they put outside in an area enclosed by a fence and also a bunch of commuter bikes inside. With my clipless pedals, u-lock, and helmet in-hand, I went in to ask if they rent bikes. They said that they only have one standard model available for rent. It’s a black step-through frame commuter of the style I have often seen around here – not great for a significant weekend ride. But the guy recommended another shop down the street that does rentals as their main business – I thought it was quite helpful of him to recommend another place over his own.

At the other place, I asked a fellow behind the counter if they had any road bikes for rent. He took a look at my pedals and said, “Well, I don’t have any bikes for those.” He pointed me to one diamond frame commuter bike which seemed to be the closest thing they had. I tried to stand over it and quickly found that the frame was such that even when I stood on my toes, I was sitting on the frame as well. This is a commonly-understood situation (at least in the U.S.) that one wants to avoid. The rule of thumb is to have at least an inch or two clearance with both feet flat on the ground so that if one gets thrown off the seat in a dire situation, one does not land on a steel tube between one’s legs. I tried to explain this to the guy and said that the frame was too big for me. He did not seem to think it was any problem, and he didn’t have anything better – he just had some step-through frames that were quite a bit too small for me. I did try one out, but it was just too leisurely for what I wanted to do. So I went with the diamond-frame commuter that was made for a 2-meter-tall Dutchman to ride to the farmer’s market.

Pushing this thing around felt more like piloting a boat than riding a bicycle. It was clearly an aluminum frame from the size of the welds, but it was significantly heavier than any of my steel frame bikes back home (aside from maybe the tandem, maybe). This thing was ridiculously overloaded with components. I can understand fenders on a commuter bike, but this one had some side panels around the rear wheel as well. The brakes on both the front and rear were drum brakes (which are heavy – maybe the heaviest type of bicycle brake?). It had front suspension. The front hub had a dynamo to power the headlight. The rear had a seven speed internally geared hub (also quite heavy). About 50% of the tubing on the rear rack was completely superfluous. The stem was an adjustable-angle one with a quick-release mechanism like so. It was quite close to the opposite of what I was looking for in a bike at this point.

After I got over being a bike snob, I actually went for a ride. I thought for a minute about riding to Amsterdam, but it was late in the afternoon, and 60 km seemed a bit ambitious at this point. I ended up going to Leiden on a very nice path through the sand dunes.

At a certain point in the midst of said path that ran through the sand dunes, I got fed up with how slow this bike was. I decided to inflate the tires a bit more since higher tire pressure is a quite easy way to reduce resistance (rolling resistance in this case). I had my quality Topeak Mini Morph hand pump with me, which can be adjusted to fit either a presta or schrader valve (the two standard valve types in the US). Upon inspecting the valves on my rental bike, I found something completely foreign. Turns out upon later research, it was a Dunlop valve. I had only previously encountered these in idle academic research on SheldonBrown.com. I removed the plastic cap and thought I had to do something more in order to open the mechanism to accept more air, so I unscrewed the ring around the center of the valve. The smaller steel piece flew off, and the tube completely deflated like an air mattress in about two seconds. This is not possible with any bicycle tube commonly used in the US (well, technically it is possible with a presta valve if one disassembles it, but that requires one to be quite intentional about disassembling it). Flummoxed, I reassembled the valve and started pumping with the presta fitting on my pump. This was kind of working, but it didn’t grasp the valve very well, so it was leaky. I flagged down a couple of other riders and asked if they had a pump. The first two courteously stopped but said that they didn’t have one. The third was a scrappy guy wearing sandals, striped shorts, and a striped shirt that clashed quite profoundly with said striped shorts. He said he didn’t have a pump, but he pointed to my pump, which was mounted on the bike, and asked “what’s that?”. I explained that I tried it, but it didn’t have the right fitting for this type of valve. He said “let’s try it” and brute forced his way through inflating the tire back to a rideable pressure. It was a leaky process, and it may have damaged the closure on my pump, but it was good enough. I thanked him, and he literally rode off into the sunset saying, “a bicycle pump has two ways: a big hole, and a small hole.” Pure genius. I topped it off a bit after he left: definitely over the recommended pressure for the tires, but that was what the situation called for. That got me to my destination with a noticeable boost – like wind at my back.

Leiden was a very charming place at which to arrive. I really want to show Em this place when she comes to visit ;). After winding around the windmill, I ended up near the town center, which featured a fountain with kids playing in it, a canal, a path on which many pedestrians, cyclists, and even a guy on an electric skateboard passed by. Restaurants with ample outdoor seating lined the perimeter.

After my satisfying meal, I took the train back to The Hague and slept like a log.