The Dusty Musette

The bike racks at my workplace (an urban university) are full of mysteries for me. Every day I see mostly the same bikes parked there...

I always associate Good Friday with the beginning of the road cycling season. It’s a holiday and spring time—who wouldn’t try to get ...

I really need to get studlier. I’ve been thinking this for a while. Time, gravity, friction—they all take their toll. My wife hasn’t sa...

I have a philosophical problem with paying for two things: drinking water and bike rides. Doling out money for either just feels wrong ...

The history of cycle-travel literature—I mean  Literature with a capital L, as opposed to arid itineraries of cycle trips—begins with th...

Full moon this weekend—Sunday, to be precise. That means a moon ride is in order. We here at the DM made a New Year’s resolution t...

There’s a dust cloud brewing to the south. Over Nebraska, above Iowa. Kansas, Idaho, Montana, Oregon. Wheels are turning and dust is fl...

It was a mistake. I knew it almost immediately. Heading home from a fatbike ride on the North Saskatchewan River, I decided to take...

Dear Jasper, What are your thoughts on wearing a cycling cap when not actually cycling? Is it kosher or uncouthe? Sincerely, Ca...