Let’s get some shoes
Hey, guess what thing that I’ve been talking about doing for years I finally did?
In celebration of that most joyous and sacred of time of the year, the receipt of the REI dividend, I visited my local outdoor equipment emporium last weekend looking to spend some more money on the bike. For years now I’ve had ridden my bicycle with clips and straps on the pedals. They’re a nice addition, allowing for a more complete circle in pedaling force without requiring new pedals, and, in the worst case, acting as normal pedals in those times when sloppy stomping and kicking and pulling and scraping can’t quite seem to find the clips or tighten the straps. The downside is that it’s harder to get your foot out of a tightened strap when panic hits, though usually a quick yank will still do the job, allowing the free foot to hit the ground with bone-breaking force while, say, getting hit by a car. They have a shallow learning curve and are can easily become an indispensable accessory. But there are other options, hard-soled shoes that more efficiently transfer force from feet to cranks, cleats that form a more solid bond between pedal and rider. I finally bought clipless pedals.
The transition to clipless pedals was easier than I expected, just a different sort of stomping for my free foot until I feel a click, and that’s it; no having to reach down and grab anything in the middle of climbing a hill. I’m still not quite used to it—the cleats are never quite where I think they should be when I’m starting—but I’m getting there, and the feeling was amazing. The hard soles alone were an incredible difference, putting so much power into moving, and I felt like part of the bike instead of just sloppily strapped into it. After that first giddy time, though, I already started to notice room for improvement. The pedals feel a little bit loose side to side, probably adjusted by the mechanic to be intentionally so I can get into them easier, and it’s especially noticeable on the left side. My left is my “chocolate” foot, the one I put forward to start, and as such the one I strap or clip in first, more permanently, my right given the task of flailing and stomping and kicking around after I’m already in motion. I mount my bicycle from the right, like a nega-horse, and I wonder now if that’s unusual.
As with most things bicycle, in shoes there is a road/mountain division that has less to do with application than comfort and price. I chose the mountain half of things since it uses recessed cleats, thinking that I could maybe walk a little with the shoes on. That’s mostly true: I can walk around most places with just a gentle clicking to inform bystanders that I’m an enthusiast of either tap dancing or not driving, but I’ve met some problems with one material in particular, the faux-stucco textured concrete of the stairs and breezeways and sidewalks that I have to traverse to get out of my apartment. When the cleats hit concrete it feels and sounds like crushing gravel, which I suppose it sort of is. Road cleats, wider things sticking out of the surface of the shoe, sometimes have rubber plugs to allow for walking, but I can’t find anything like that for these, so I’ve instead been trying to learn an unhealthy gait to compensate, something that puts my weight more on the outsides of my heels. I made a grocery run in the new shoes, and my return home was the second time I can recall removing the panniers before ascending the stairs. The first time was because I bought like fifty pounds of crap and was too tired to lift it all at once. This time I was just afraid I was going to fall on my butt.



