Oh, heck. I’ve been writing a short blog post about cranks which seems to be expanding like the blob. Since it’s still not done, here’s something someone else did that made me spit coffee on my screen -
Every winter, folks descend upon the trails of Tamarancho and China Camp State Park for trail maintenence workdays. I’ve never seen this occur for the Marin watershed (which may be more of a function of me not being in the loop), but whether due to budget woes or the powers-that-be finally figuring out that the cycling community is generally very amenable to pitching in an helping if you ask for it, the webbernet just coughed up this announcement:
Join Marin Municipal Water District, Marin Bicycle Coalition and Marin Mountain Bike Patrol for a morning of Habitat Restoration on Mt Tamalpais. Help remove invasive plant species from oak woodland and grassland habitats. Every person has the chance to make a difference by practicing environmental stewardship. Give back to the land you enjoy so much and have fun while doing so!
Meet at the junction of Shaver Grade and Hidden Meadow Trail 9am on Saturday December 5th. Bike to the trail head or hike in from Natalie Coffin Green Park or Lake Lagunitas Picnic Area. The volunteer event runs from 9 until noon.
Please pre-register for the event so we will be prepared with ample tools, staff and snacks. Dress for changing weather and bring a hat, work shoes, a water bottle and lots of friends. We provide snacks, water, instruction and inspiration! Consider bringing your lunch to enjoy on the watershed after the volunteer event.
To register or for further information, please contact our Volunteer Coordinator at (415) 945-1128 or e-mail volunteerprogram@marinwater.org . Heavy rain will cancel; call the volunteer line for cancellation information the morning of the event.
The LA Times has been publishing a number of interesting articles on bicycle-specific topics of late. It’s nice to see the tone of the articles dealing with bicycles and cyclists as real, adult issues rather than the all-too-common ranty article describing a caricature/stereotype “lycra-clad Lance/Lemond wanna-be…”.
Read ‘em and if you have the interest, comment favorably to the editors. Let them know that you are a cyclist and appreciate higher quality writing on these issues. One of the bylines to keep an eye on is Jerry Hirsch, who, in addition to having bicycle #100 in the Current Classics Gallery, is also a fine writer. When I read his stuff (and most of what gets published in the LA Times), I am reminded again about the dearth of quality newspaper writing in the SF Bay Area.
However, the papers here do manage to occasionally surround a story. The Marin IJ recently ran an article on an issue which has been a little out of public awareness - broader trail access in Marin County. For those of you who haven’t studied mountain bike catechism, the mountain bike was invented in Marin County* and then uniformally banned from all trails but the widest vehicle access roads (called “fire roads”). There were significant public battles played out, and folks with the strongest opinions dug in across from one another reminiscent of World War One trench warefare in the Somme. As the profoundly anti-bicycle-access-in-any-form folks created noise and cited disproven studies, two curious anomolies popped up - China Camp State Park allowed bicycles on singletrack trails (indeed, created a network of singletrack trails) and Tamarancho Boy Scout Camp created a pay-for-access system of even more singletrack goodness.
In the ensuing time period, most people realized that bikes weren’t the issue as much as continued development and proper trail design (combined with regular trail maintenence efforts, which the cyclists seem much more predisposed to engage in). Bicycle riders learned how not to spook horses or hikers, and everyone seemed to get a helluva lot more reasonable.
In short, it’s come down to behavior. If you blow past trail users of any type (or run into them like a doofus), your behavior is inappropriate for the conditions. (And if ride trails and have never seen the IMBA Rules of the Trail, take a moment and read/refresh your memory.)
The interesting thing is that in the comments section of this article - Supervisors tackle Marin trail conflicts there are a whole host of very familiar names to anyone who has followed Marin County trail politics. Same old folks peering over the edge of the trench.
The encouraging thing is that the poll on the page was running roughly 70% - 30% in favor of more trail access for bicycles. It certainly is time to have a reasonable conversation about these things, address real issues like behavior of the trail users - everyone from littering hikers to folks who let their dogs chase wildlife to brain-dead cyclists and insensitive equestrians needs to realize the effect of their actions.
My personal belief is that a competent rider on a ~30 pound bicycle with working brakes has a lot more control over their momentum than a rider on a 900 - 1100 animal which has a separate and differently responding brain. (And yes, I do ride horses now and again also.)
One of the scariest moments I ever had on a trail was nearly being trampled by two riders galloping their horses where they shouldn’t have been doing so. But, the conclusion I drew from that was the riders were exhibiting antisocial and dangerous behavior. Maybe they didn’t have a nickel’s worth of brains between them. Maybe they were playing out some equestrian fantasy. Maybe they just didn’t think I had as much right to hike the trail as they did to ride it. Whatever.
I don’t draw any further conclusion from that interaction than most - some people are self-centered jerks oblivous to what effects their actions are having. That type of behavior wasn’t appropriate, but it doesn’t mean that most of the trail users aren’t respectful and safe. It’s the simple and easy interactions which get forgotten.
*this is the catechism - I realize that there are other reasonable theories as well…
Out and about on a ridiculously gorgeous day. In November. With little wind and dry streets. Started the month one for one, and this is the 5th ride in as many days, which feels good, though a bit tiring.
A month layoff is really nasty, as you definitely drop a notch or so, but your brain won’t let you off the hook. It seems to remember how you could climb a bit faster and keep things rolling on the flats. It’s that damned grey matter which thinks it would be a good idea to sit and grind up a couple of climbs which probably were doable last month, but definitely took a bigger bite today.
In other words, I’m feeling it a bit tonight.
The other part, I’m sure, stems from using a coastable, many-geared drivetrain system for the past four months. With the Quickbeam running a fixed setup, when you ride for a couple hours or so, you are actually riding the whole time, just to state the obvious. Not that I’d want to change that. And while it makes you stronger, reminds you how to be comfortable when you are pedaling at a ridiculous cadence down some hill that you didn’t really register for the last couple months, and strips away the unnecessary whining, it also has its weakening aspects.
I noticed it immediately on the hills, the momentum of the bicycle feeding back into the drivetrain until you feel somehow lifted and you begin to climb like you’re dreaming. No weakening there, but it does convince you to just squeeze a little more power out. Of course, when you get back on a coastable bike, your image of yourself as a king of the montain gets more than a bit tarnished. Climbing fixed is an almost illicit thrill.
The more sinister bits lie in wait at the bottom and top of the pedal stroke, where after months of riding a fixed-gear system, you end up letting the cranks do the work a bit. It’s actually easy to loaf with a fixed gear setup, let the momentum pull your feet through the toughest parts of the pedal stroke to maintain power.
But, that’s probably a few weeks off. Today, I picked a slightly hillier route towards the bridge. I was able to breathe a bit deeper today, and didn’t have any bad coughing jags while out on the road. I’d hoped to make it all the way to the bridge today, but had started late after some chores, looped around a bit and realized that the engine probably wasn’t willing today. And by the time I’d gotten home at 4:15 or so, the cars had already been turning on their lights in some of the more shaded areas of the county. Dang, it ain’t summer no more.
Alas, the season of dark commutes has descended upon us again. Not that I haven’t been running lights on the way home recently, but the end of Daylight Savings has ensured that the evening rides will be well and truly dark.
But, even though sore and a bit worked, it was great to be out.
A bit spotty this past month, to be sure. Started slowly, and then was out on my back for a couple weeks with a flu.
When vague lucidity returned, I did manage to get the Quickbeam rigged up and running again, which was especially good as the Hilsen’s replacement crankarm from Ritchey seems to slip on the splined bottom bracket spindle. Nothing like a slightly out of alignment crankset to get your attention. To their credit, they wanted it back immediately, which means Homer is currently one-footed.
Cobbled together 140 miles on the bike, almost all of it in the last four days. Got out in beautiful weather today and rolled around on a nice loop for a couple hours. It felt long, but good. Really, really good.
Even with a week and a half gap, snuck into yoga for 7 sessions, though a couple times I think all I managed was mewling kitten pose. No running. Lotsa coughing and sleeping at odd hours. A 5 day span with only a total of 3 meals, more ‘cuz I was sleeping through it was wasn’t hungry when awake.
But, y’gotta get one of those out of your system now and again. At least I rode today.
Through a quirk of the calendar, 4 months to the day after someone popped their truck door open at
precisely the wrong time, the Quickbeam headed onto the
roadway again. After a frame check to make sure that nothing structural got bent or damaged, followed by attaching new handlebars, brake levers and stem (all replaced out of pocket because I’m still waiting for the other driver’s insurance to
settle up…), and another saddle swapped over, the bicycle seemed ready for duty.
Yes, I did set the brake cables using an underwrap of hemp twine, shellacked with, uh, shellac. (An intervention may be necessary, as I’ve observed before.) Left the barends open, so they can take a core sample of anything that impales itself upon them. (I thought I had a set of Velox bar plugs - hell I know I do - but couldn’t find them before the ticking clock of “gottagetgoing” chimed…) Don’t think I’ll need to tweak the setup too much, but didn’t want to jinx it by wrapping everything into place. Commuted and did a short
errand after work, reminding myself again why I like this bicycle so
darned much.
Specifically - It was great not to coast again. It was great not to have to shift. I really, really like the Jack Brown (Green) tires. Had them set at 65/75 psi and they felt like velvet. Having a front bag (the L’il Loafer) that fits exactly on the rack (Nitto Mini Front) makes my heart sing.
It was funny, the bike I rode most recently before this was the Zeus, which is nothing if not an acquired taste. The frame is smallish - in the way we all downsized frames back in the last century - and between the lightish, standard gauge tubing and the significant leverage provided by the moustache bars, the bicycle flexes without hesitation under load. With the 650B (584 bcd) tire conversion, it has the low stance of a badger, and the head angle and fork rake combine to give it a unique trail. The first mile or so on the Zeus are a lesson of correction, finding the combination of position and input to let the bike move the way it wants to. Since I was using that more frequently, the idiosyncrasies became normal.
So, getting back on the Quickbeam took a little adjustment again - mostly to get used to a bike that acted entirely differently, but much, much more trustworthy. Four months without riding this bicycle has been a travesty, and it felt wonderful to enjoy the cool sunshine of late October, pedaling, pedaling, pedaling the whole time.
Nothing like considering long rides when you are finishing up a month when you’ve been on the bike a grand total of three times. But, hey, optimism is born of denial, eh?
Here in non-Northern California, as the Chico-ians like to call it, we’re blessed with four active clubs putting on brevets. This gives us no excuses for rides in excess of 100 miles. There are no less than 24 brevets on the tentative calendar, which can be found here.
So, what are you still doing looking at your computer, anyway?
At this rate, October may not end up on the “big mileage” side of the balance.
Last Monday, I had that sinking feeling of not being quite right. Took note of a couple of sharp coughing bouts, which reminded me that at o’dark thirty the night before I’d bumped around the medicine cabinet to find a cough drop or two because I’d coughed myself awake. I finished everything that needed to be done, headed home and by 5pm, had decided that a brief nap sounded like a good idea.
Which I guess it was, because it lasted until about 2 pm the next day. Dizzy, achey, chilled-to-the-bone, sweating-through-countless-t-shirts. Coughing. Not hungry. Ripping headache from caffeine withdrawal was just an added bonus.
Sounds like the flu to me.
Which meant that the cool kids got to play yesterday at the Lion of Fairfax, and then again today on the SFBA(TNRNCIIN?)* Rivendell Ride.
The Lion had been an iffy proposition at best - speed and/or running work a thing of theory so far this fall. Still, it would have been a good excuse to run around with a bike for 45 minutes or so. Oh, it would have hurt. Kind of like using the wood stove for the first time in the fall - you manage to burn your fingers and singe your eyebrows and that slaps a bit of respect back into your brain. In cross, there’s nothing like that time-warp of “Holy Eddy! This has been going on a looong time!” and then realizing that you are just finishing your first lap.
Unlike life, cyclocross is only painful for a specific, discreet period of time. One of its great design tenets.
According to the Eastern Bloc cycling coach voice in my head, once the cold/flu is in your chest, you don’t press it. So, any idea of racing was nixed early on. But, I was hoping to at least show up and ring a cowbell for Gino, who was in town and had signed up. Watch the power of Chico played out on the fields of Vernon “Lefty” Gomez.
Alas, I was too spinny to safely wield the bells of cow.
I kept hoping that I’d shake it and could limp along for even part of the Riv Ride. This was actually the first planned ride in the area which had been pulled together by the RBW Owners’ Bunch Group. Since I’m more or less involved with that group, it had been something I was really looking forward to attending.
But, by Saturday midday, it was pretty clear that just sweeping the back patio had taken all of my kitten-like strength, and I had to email JimG and Gino to admit that I wouldn’t be showing. When I lamented that out loud, my wife gave me that “you really weren’t even considering beginning to sort of conceptually think of doing that, were you?” look. (I have noted before that she’s a bit smarter than me most of the time.)
Which means that here on the 18th of the month, I’ve ridden eactly twice. Not quite 50 miles. Whoo-hoo!
On the good side of things, one of the stratospheric cable channels was running “Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten”, which I caught most of. Which was pretty great. But I don’t think that was until Thursday or so. Which is when remember getting a little hungry, finally. I think I read Dan Brown’s new book in there somewhere, too. My time line is pretty outta whack at this point. In fact, everything is pretty outta whack this past week. I’m just gaining enough coherency to begin asking myself what the heck didn’t get done this past week. Which ought to keep me busy this week….
Just hoping to start slipping some easy rides back into the schedule. So, here’s to rides yet to come!
*San Francisco Bay Area (Technically Not Really Nor-Cal Is It Now?) Rivendell Ride
I’ve finally figured out that I get depressed when I break bike parts. Maybe that’s overstating things a little. I mean, it’s not like I’m weeping-in-the-streets depressed, but nonetheless, it bugs me. I don’t like seeing the parts break.
Certainly things break. And the recent crank failure appears to be a sub-spec part, so it wasn’t operator error. However, there’s a distinct lack of alternatives, and that’s pretty much my own damn fault. My combination of sloth and deferred maintainence kind of caught up to me. And that gets me clearly depressed.
Let me explain - I’ve mentioned this axiom before: “As the number of bicycles increases, the chance that none of them will work correctly increases exponentially.”
Which means that when a wheel on one bike isn’t quite true, you tend to start using the next one, which then develops a bit of toe-in error and squawks whenever you squeeze the rear brake. So, you leave that one hanging in the garage - certainly meaning to get back and spend a few minutes with the wrenches to heal that up - and use the next for a while.
In my case, I’d been riding the Quickbeam until my forward motion was rudely interrupted by my index finger coming between me and a suddenly-opening truck door. That bent up the brake lever and bars well beyond repair, tweaked the stem and saddle rails and introduced me to the glacial-molasses world of insurance reimbursement.
Since the Hilsen was looking for use, once my shoulder and neck would allow it, that became my main ride.
Now, I did figure that I’d get the Quickbeam up and running again once the broken and damaged bits were replaced. (And, just to divert briefly, the other driver’s insurance company has been decidedly mute on paying off my damage. Hey, it’s only been 90-freakin-days!!!) So, maybe my sloth is a little off the hook on that one…
But, before I decided to try out the Brooks Swift on the Hilsen, I had been moving saddles around a bit, and had pulled the B-17 off of the Dawes fixed gear. Which meant it was dutifully awaiting its next assignment while brandishing a naked seatpost.
My geared hardtail mtb has a variety of issues - rear wheel, drivetrain, ratty cables - most of which have been multiplied by disuse and the removal of pedals sometime during last year’s cyclocross season. In fact, the geared mtb has been used so little, my most-frequent ride buddies have actually never seen me riding it. This is both comedic and tragic.
(And is starting to veer a little off-topic as well. It’s just meant to put a couple of asterisks next to the players on the scorecard - to see the ones who are nursing injuries. )
With the snapping crank of a week and a half ago, that pretty much left me with a set of mostly unrideable bikes. Oh, the Zeus is still plugging along, and it’s been my local errand bike reliably for a while. But, there is something in the back of my mind that troubles me when I’m relying upon a twenty…no… thirty year old bike and components of somewhat unknown provenance. I tend to treat it with the respect and fear that demands.
The last horse in the barn is the Bridgestone MB1SS. Which, by virtue of its singlespeedyness remains reliable, generally capable of being run hard and put away wet. But, there too, the gremlins of entropy chew greedily upon the tendons of hope. The last few times I’ve been out on the trails, there has been the relatively infrequent slip of the freehub, the tinny and thin alarm sounding the beginning of pawl death.
Now, it isn’t that I can’t fix these issues (well, except for the Zeus, which will only - hopefully - continue to grow older). But, free time has been at a premium this past month, and riding rather than wrenching has been the course I chose. And, if the folks at Ritchey Logic had suggested that the whole crankarm thing would be something other than a replacement, I would’ve pulled the other arm, swapped out the bottom bracket, slapped on the Sugino XD2’s that have been sitting in a box since the C. Xavier Hilsen project, and either swapped the 48T ring from the Ritchey or dropped the front derailleur down for the 46T on the Sugino, and I would’ve been good to go.
And I’m hoping to get free for a couple hours this week to head across the bay, drop in on the folks in Walnut Creek and pick up the bits I need to get the Quickbeam out again. That bike deserves to be on the roads and trails, and I’m missing the steady silent rhythm of riding fixed.
Even writing about getting those bikes going has perked me up a bit. (And I do think I’ve been fighting something this last week, which generally doesn’t help one’s outlook.) No telling what a little bit of time and energy can do.
Got an email from Lance Armstrong today. Because it’s an anniversary of sorts. Of course, I realize that thousands of other people probably got the same email, but it’s important enough (and easy enough) to take the small action requested.
I had a pre-existing condition
Dear Jim,
Lance was denied insurance when he needed it most. Sign the petition and tell Congress that no one else should be. Today is LIVESTRONG Day. Thirteen years ago today, my doctor told me I had advanced testicular cancer. What most people don’t know is that at the time, I didn’t have health insurance. In the following weeks, I received letter after letter from the insurance company refusing to pay for my treatment. I was fighting for my life—but also for the coverage that I desperately needed.
The legislation currently being debated in Congress is not just words on a page—for many cancer survivors, it’s a matter of life and death. Now, as this debate enters crunch time, I need your help to ensure that what happened to me doesn’t happen to any other American:
No matter what side of the healthcare debate you’re on, I believe we can all agree on two things:
No American should be denied health insurance coverage because of pre-existing conditions.
No American should lose their insurance due to changes in health or employment.
Will you sign the LIVESTRONG Action petition to make sure any legislation includes these two critically important reforms? We’ll deliver these to Capitol Hill this month as the debate reaches its climax and make sure our voices are heard in the debate:
When I received my diagnosis, I was between cycling contracts. My new insurer used the diagnosis as a reason to deny coverage after the new contract was signed. Fortunately, one of my sponsors intervened. At their insistence, I was added to their insurance company and was able to continue my life-saving treatment. If my sponsor, a powerful company, had not gone to bat for me, I may not have made it.
I was lucky. We can’t rely on luck to ensure coverage and treatment for the millions of Americans affected by cancer. Some cannot get coverage because they’ve already been diagnosed. Others get calls from their insurance companies saying they have been dropped. It happens all the time—and it’s unacceptable.
Every year on LIVESTRONG Day, we come together to take action for a world without cancer. In the U.S., a critical step is to make sure cancer survivors can get and keep their health insurance.
It has been 13 years since my diagnosis, but in some ways, not much has changed. No person should have to worry about health insurance while battling cancer. That so many do is an outrage, and we must speak out.
LIVESTRONG, Lance and the LIVESTRONG Action Team P.S. Don’t forget today is LIVESTRONG Day. There are more than 1,100 events taking place to raise awareness about cancer all over the world. View our interactive map to see events in your area: http://www.livestrongaction.org/map
Kind of a wacky month, and during the last week, the impetus to ride piffled out like air from a balloon with a pinhole leak. Ahhh well, mostly for good reasons - birthdays (two - my wife’s and mine) - a couple of studio recording sessions, some high-value voice classes/get-togethers, engineering, yoga and random work hectic-ness.
The happy-dance news was that my annual total mileage notched over 3,000 miles. Not an overwhelming number, but it seemed rather “milestone-ish.” Got there on a relatively meager 268 miles on 14 riding days. The riding seemed to come in fits and starts this month - went well in the first week, wrapping up a ride-per-day string that started on August 29th and continued through September 6th. Then almost nothing but short errand hops for a week and a half. Longest ride was a mixed-terrain ride of about 50 miles, then after the great crank snapping, I woke up feeling more tired than I should have and decided to underdo things (like, do nothing) for the last week of the month.
Stayed steady with yogo, with 8 sessions. No running. Gino’s gonna skitter away from me in Fairfax in - wholly crud! - 2 weeks, and there’s no way in heck that I’m going to try McLaren Park this weekend. Nope. 5 or 6 times up that pitch and I’d be coughing up lung… As Bill Murray once astutely explained in Stripes, “….I’m pacing myself.”
Riding down to Sausalito Wednesday evening. I’m engineering for a class and managed to get my messed up lighting issues solved so that the nighttime return trip won’t be too treacherous. In fact, I’m pretty pleased to be getting in some cheap miles and spend time with good friends and a talented instructor. I just miss the light to jump across from the bike path to Bridgeway, so I head forward on the less used section of wide path/sidewalk, planning to use the next opportunity to cross.
About two or three pedal strokes to regain some speed - BAM! - the whole bike shudders and my left foot is unclipped. I’m still upright and moving forward, but finding only air. It seems that I had some catastrophic pedal failure, and I look down to see, well… pretty much nuthin’…. which is kind of a further surprise.
There’s about three inches or so of crank arm left, and a slightly jagged looking silver face. I slow down, realize that I’m pretty W&TF and look back to see if there are any parts in my wake. At first it seems like everything had just vanished. Backtracking further, I see the Time pedal and it’s rather forlorn and useless appendage.
You’ll have to excuse the cruddy little phone cam shot. There are some clearer photos to follow.
The immediate issue was arriving early enough to change into street clothes for the class. I still had about 3 miles to go, and I wasn’t really going to be moving at precisely the same speed I’d enjoyed. A quick call to let them know and I saddled up and started kicking it one-footedly down Bridgeway.
It wasn’t any particular hardship, really. I mean, if you know the parallel option, it’s not particularly hilly - in fact, it could be described as just about dead-flat. A little playing around with gear choice, and the only downside was the rather, um, different means by which you contact the saddle when pedaling one-legged. Not trying to get graphic, just trying to make the case that you want to be a little careful when engaging in that method of transportation.
Made it on time, managed to catch my wife and cash in one of my “please come and fetch me” chips after class ended (she was seeing a play with a friend, and it actually worked out quite well…)
The bit on the bike. Looks like things propagated from the leading edge, which seems to be the darkest area.
The bit that broke off. I’m holding it in the nice morning light. If you click through to see all sizes, or just jump to the largest version, you can see the tale of woe rendered in 6000 series aluminum. The end result being that I now own a left crank arm which can be used for the lowest of bb heights…
107 is the new length. All the kids’ll be riding ‘em soon. You heard it here first.
As I was snapping these photos (all of which are over in a Flickr set, as you’d expect), it struck me that I needed to deal with this whole thing. (Hey, it was early, I was on my first cup of coffee and had to get to work.) Since I’d had some issues with the ISIS connective spline, this pair had come directly from Ritchey on a warranty. I wasn’t sure what the warranty period was, but thought it would be at least worth asking. Emailed them through their website, and got an autoresponder that said they were out at Interbike this week. Ok. Fine. I headed into work with the vague idea of swapping the stock Sugino XD’s back on, and switching chainrings to maintain the same gearing.
By the time I got back this afternoon, another email had come through from Ritchey USA. This time, they attached a helpful little pdf which documented a voluntary recall they had instituted, as some of the early cranks were busting on the non-drive side. I looked up the date codes on my nubbins, and curiously enough, it did seem to fit within the date of the recall. So, as soon as they send me the actual RA#, I’ll be sending this down to them.
It did keep me thinking. In my only other crank fracture, I was out of balance and on the ground pretty danged fast. Since the bike and I were climbing at the time, and it was a fixed-gear system, torque was pretty high, though thankfully the speed remained low.
This time around, things were on the flat, and I had a decent amount of momentum going. When the arm failed, I do remember coming down very hard on the right pedal. Luckily, I had my weight pretty well distributed. But, I think it also strongly attests to the stability of the Rivendell A. Homer Hilsen. Things went from pretty normal to very out of balance in a big hurry, but the last thing I even worried about was how to stay upright on the bike.
Got out Sunday for a nice loop of pavement and dirt. Climbed a bit and didn’t lock up anywhere, which was nice. Definitely a bit sore afterwards, but the good kind of sore which denotes that you were able to go the whole time.
But, while I meandered around, there were lessons being taught, Of course, I guess there are always lessons being taught. These were just the ones that I noticed on Sunday.
Don’t Get Pulled Into the Flow - This is one I see often, and it’s easy to let occur. As I was heading out around San Pedro Point the road is two lane and relatively narrow. It’s kind of a curvy “country” road, with decent enough line of site and quiet enough that you can usually hear traffic approaching. I came upon a group of newer riders, who were spread out a bit in the lane. Heard a car coming up from behind and dropped my speed so as not to be passing them at the same time. They also heard the auto, and single-filed themselves. The driver passed them and the last rider began easing back out, seemingly sucked forward and to their left by the wake of the vehicle. A bad thing, as there was another car behind the first. Luckily, no oncoming traffic and the second driver had passed with plenty of room. But, it was a graphic example of why you always assume that traffic has stacked up behind the first car.
Look Behind - It’s really a corollary to the first thing. But, if folks on the road, on the trail, entering from the curb or just any manner of forward-facing-but-backwardsly-blind positioning would just flip a look back every once in a while, they’d be startled less and end up much more aware of what was going on. Curves are great times to do this, as quick glimpse will alert you to any movement approaching.
Bring Stuff - All along the roadway near China Camp were the cars from the trail users of the day. From the back of one car, a voice called out, “Heyougottapump?” Easing back, there were a couple of guys trying to inflate an mtb tire with a short little pack pump. After connecting my frame pump, we had equally poor luck in getting any good results. I could hear something hissing, and the bike owner lamented that he’d probably pinched the tube putting it in. I asked if they had another tube. They did not. They were quite distraught, since they were under a time constraint. But, it got me thinking. I had two tubes (700C, otherwise I would’ve given ‘em one) and three (don’t ask) patch kits in my bag. I was riding. Here, these two guys had driven to the ride and had only one spare tube between the two of them, and no way to patch it. I mean, they were in a car, ferheavensakes! They didn’t have to physically carry anything! Floor pump, basic tool kit (or the whole thing if you have a portable kit), extra tubes all are pretty simple to chuck into the car. But, the lack of that pretty much clipped their trail ride.
Fear the Tourist - Bridgeway in Sausalito, from the south end of Caledonia Street to the climb out of town, is probably one of the most nerve-wracking sections of road in Marin County. Unless you are engaging in a mixed-terrain route, you are one of the 99.99% of north/south bound cyclists using this route. Tourist density is high, both on the road (narrow) and sidewalk (multiple crosswalks). Having negotiated the main part of town, I was easing along with the flow of traffic on the waterfront section of the road. In front of me was a convertible Porsche with the top down, and I noticed that the passenger was holding up an iPhone as they moved slowishly forward. “Parking Spot Finder” - I didn’t know there was an app for that, but clearly there was. Diving suddenly to the right and stopping, they immediately brought auto traffic to a stop. Luckily, I’d sensed their indecision and erratic-ness, had positioned myself to their left-hand quarter, and was able to move past without being plowed over.
Respect the Bulk of the Bus - A fine example of abject fear is when you are in the narrow, narrow tunnel on Sausalito Lateral underneath the freeway, and you hear the sound of a roaring bus engine behind you. Maybe I should have taken the full lane before entering the tunnel, but whizzing traffic prevented that, and by the time the bus approached, I wasn’t sure he could see me in the very dark shadow therein. At least he pulled out slightly to give me some room as he blew past - well, before the oncoming traffic forced him back into my lane. Luckily, busses turn only on the front wheels. My forward path was eclipsed (as was the light in the tunnel), but the back end of the bus stayed a few feet away. Slamming on my brakes and edging against the curb, no Jim pancakes (or waffles) were formed.
Honor The Tailwind - Sunday was the first of what they are forecasting as a week-long heat wave up here. The winds were pretty odd all day, but as soon as I turned onto the trails, I picked up a warm tailwind. Which meant that sweat pretty much got baked off by the sun rather than evaporated by any breezes. By the time I got home, even though I’d sucked down every swallow of my water, stopped to douse my cap a few times and sputtered the last spray onto my legs at the top of the last climb, it took a massive effort just to flop into the shower and sit under the cool water. It was one of those times when you spray cold water on your head, and my the time it reaches your low back, it feels hot. I’ve had this happen a couple times, when you get pushed along by a warm breeze. They are extremely deceptive, because you benefit from the tailwind, but cooked up by the heat. By the time you notice, it’s very hard to recover - much more so than a hot headwind. I think if I hadn’t reached home when I did, I would have needed a bag of ice on my brain for a while before continuing.
A little more news on the St. Paul, MN stolen Rivendell Glorius which belongs to Grant Peterson’s daughter. It seems that it’s not a particularly good idea to surround and pounce on the first person you see riding one, especially if his name is “Karl” and it seems to fit him particularly well.
Or, if you don’t want to click through, here’s a version, slightly edited for brevity:
“But here’s a twist: We have a customer named Karl who has a red Glorious and also lives in St. Paul. I’m feeling bad now, because the seach for my daughter’s bike makes it hard for him to ride his. His name is Karl, and if you’re in the area and see a red Glorius ridden by a guy, and you call out “hey, Karl!” and he doesn’t say hi or something, maybe it’s the bad guy. Or, maybe Karl didn’t hear you. We’ve painted three or four red. Wouldn’t you know–two in Saint Paul. Karl hasn’t complained-in fact, he sent a sympathetic note—-but this makes it awkward for him to ride his…
Anyway, I want to thank everybody for their kind words and wishes. I can see straight, still. I know that this world and country has bigger problems than this, and in the big picture this is nothing.
Now…if you see Karl, don’t pounce on him! Thanks…”
Normally, I don’t post alerts for stuff out of my geographic area, but this one bit a little close to the bone - Grant Peterson’s daughter’s bike (and her friend’s bike) got heisted in St. Paul. Now, the Glorius is certainly a noticeable frame - even if they paint it over with roofing tar it would stick out - so if you live in that area, keep your eyes peeled and notify the proper authorities -
When
a daughter’s bike gets stolen, a dad a couple of thousand miles away
does what he can do to help get it back, and this is that. My
daughter is a student there, and her red Glorius (mixte) with cream
head tubes was stolen from a rusty fence (it was U-locked to it, and
they uprooted the fence-section) on Portland and Saratoga Aves.
September 16.
Brooks saddle, Schwalbe Marathons…Albatross
bars…but basically, if you see a red Glorious around there, a 52,
that’s it. I don’t know how to go about getting it back, but I want to
do what I can, and Put the Word Out seems to be the extent of my
influence.
A reward, too. I buy bikes, too–they don’t come free
to me–and she rode the bike all last year and so far this year, and
she liked the bike a lot, and it’s just a bummer.
Keep an eye out for it. Maybe it’ll show up on eBay or Craigslist.
You
know, on one hand, it’s better that she lose her Glorius than maybe a
bike-poorer person. But she got attached to it, and she wants it back,
so I’m asking for help locating it. There will be a reward, sure. I
don’t know. Something.
The same day one of my daughter’s
roomates also got her bike stolen. It was a dark olive green All-Pro
(brand) non-mixte with upright bars, black saddle, white grips. Maybe
the same guys (sexist but statistically probable assumption) took it,
too.
Anyway, it’s not tragic, but it is sad, and it is my
daughter and it is her friend, and I think we can all relate. Thanks
for any help. Grant
The San Francisco Randonneurs would like to invite you to participate in our first ever Fall Populaire, to be held on October 3rd, 2009. This is a free event.
The Populaire is intended to introduce riders to the sport of randonneuring. Most of our brevets are 200km in length, but the Populaire, at 115km, is only slightly more than half that length.
As a member of the SFR gang, I’m happy to share this little press release which was forwarded to me by Rob Hawks, the Regional Brevet Administrator for the club. On a personal note - this is a great way to meet some of the fantastic folks who make up the San Francisco Randonneurs and ride a wonderful route in one of the more perfect times of the year.
Whether you want to challenge yourself with the 115K or have been itching to try the longer series of brevets, it’s a great excuse to get some miles in and enjoy the ride!
Had that realization last week as I rode home from work - it wasn’t that late and the sun wasn’t hitting the roadway any longer. Time to bring the aged NiteRider out of the closet and make sure that it still works. Then the other morning, as the dog and I worked our way around the block, came the breeze with a bit of bite. In other words, the first true breath of fall.
Which is not a bad thing, certainly. Despite the layers of HVAC climate-controlled workplaces and the fact we seem able to buy spring fruit year round, the seasons still manage to create the urgency that stems from far simpler times. The nights edge out a little longer and we realize what a gift warm sunlight actually is.
It also means that otherwise normal - ok, that may be a bit of a stretch - people are donning dresses and tearing around the trails in preparation for cyclocross season. This is as much a sign of the season as anything. Dried, brown grass, dust in the air and sparkly feathered boas… such is Fall in the SF Bay Area.
But, one of the cooler things manifested quickly yesterday on the RBW Owners Bunch List - a Rivendell and Friends Ride to take place on Sunday, October 18th. The specifics can be found here. Event: NorCal™ Rivendell Ride Date: Sunday, October 18
Start: Golden Gate bridge, south toll plaza lot Time: 9:00am Distance: 75 miles or so
Description: See the cue sheet and map, which contains an elevation profile. It’s an out-and-back, so if you don’t want to do the whole thing, it’s easy to turn back at any point. Nicely maintained gravel is an option for a small bit of this ride.
This, of course is taking place the day after the Lion of Fairfax, which it seems my schedule will allow this year. Yay! So, I plan on being good and sore for at least the beginning and end of the Rivendell Ride.
Any month that starts off with a Century should have a good leg up on garnering a couple miles. I think this is actually my first 400+ mile month so far this year. Starting to feel “lankier” on the bike, which my internal term for feeling like there’s more room to move around a little bit better power here and there. It’s a good thing. It ended with a nice string of 13 rides in the last 16 days of the month.
Garnered 446 miles on 18 riding days. Had a really, really low energy weekend the week after riding the Marin Century with Gino, and had two high priority projects the following week, so I kinda pulled in my horns and schlumpfed around the house to make sure I was 100% for those things, then only got one ride in the following week. Mostly Hilsen miles, though I was using the Zeus and all its 650B goodness for some commutes this month. Haven’t got the Quickbeam back together, but I’m definitely wanting to have it up and running soon.
The ‘Cross itch has kinda started, and you can hear the stirrings in the hills as the practitioners of this Dark Art awaken. The plodding must commence this coming month, for McLaren lies in wait in early October… Actually did manage some light singletrack miles here and there, which is the first since the accident.
Yoga’d 8 times this month. Have been chipping away at the Marin Century writeup a paragraph or two at a time, which strikes me as a bit ridiculous, as it was now exactly a month ago. But, I’m also trying to sleep more consistently, which is why I’m cutting this post off here.
I dunno. Things like I watched today make me feel old. “Old” as in smart enough to avoid utter numbskull moves so that I can be an “old bike rider”, which is one of my goals in life.
First noted this particular rider on my way back home. I’d meandered down to the bridge to stretch my legs a bit, as the rides have been hard to come by for the last week and a half. We were at the north end of the Mill Valley bike path, waiting for the light to change. Couple other folks, but as it was mid-afternoon, there wasn’t quite the scrum that can take place. Gotta admit the first thing I noted was the earbuds. Never a good sign, but I try not to be judgemental.
When the lights changed, we rolled out, and I eased ahead of him, then turned left and then right for the Camino Alto climb. Another rider passed me on the first pitch, and we exchanged pleasantries. Then earbud-man pumped past, and either chose to ignore my “heyhowzitgoin” or it faded into the rhythm of whatever mix he was having pumped into his ear orifices. Fine. Ok. I kinda expected that.
We met again at the top of the climb. After his exuberant start to the climb, he had throttled back a bit and I’d been easing up on him. Then he suddenly began wobbling significantly off his line. I checked for advancing traffic, then veered around him, trying to see if he was having trouble of some sort - a bee in his helmet or something. Nope. He was dinking around with the control wheel on the iPod. I guess he has climbing music and descending music. Leaving him trying to locate Ride of the Valkyries or whatever he needs for the turns down to Corte Madera, I pushed over the crest and descended.
I don’t know if he was challenged by this action or not. All I know is that I started hearing that clattery sound of thin tires and light frame trying to stay stuck on the pavement behind me. There’s a difference between that type of ominous racket and the swooshing sound of rider in control. He managed to stay upright, but more by white knuckling it than by conscious technique. Luckily, he didn’t come crashing into my rear wheel, and I must admit I increased my speed when he sounded close, just so I could keep a safety buffer.
We all end up waiting at the red light, at the stoplight with the least appropriate sensor setting in the county, which many riders will recognize sits at the base of the Camino Alto hill, on the Corte Madera side. Even with a serious steel frame, it tends not to trigger. I have no idea what the non-ferrous or resin/glue crowd does. Well, now I do. Because earbud-man arrives on scene. Facing us on Magnolia Avenue are about 10 cars that had been waiting at the red light. To our right, there are two kids on foot who are leaning on the pedestrian signal button. The cars coming towards us will get a combined left-turn arrow/straight green light when it changes. Traffic from the right gets their red, the oncoming cars start rolling, all the ones I can see with their left turn blinker activated. There are three of us cyclists with foot down, waiting for the left turning cars to pass and our light to turn green.
Then, for some reason known only to him, earbud-man rolls past us and through the red light. The next left-turning car jerks to a stop to avoid him, and is so clearly stunned by this rider’s stupidity that he cannot bring himself to honk. Earbud-man sets off in pursuit of whatever demons he seeks, which puts him about 100 yards away by the time our actual green light illuminates and we all advance while shaking our heads.
Through the capriciousness of stoplights and traffic, I again regain this fellow as we near Bon Air Road. Very little traffic and supremely clear line-of-sight in all directions. There are 4 cars waiting for the dedicated left turn light, and our light has gone red as earbud-man rolls up to the it. They begin to move. Earbud-man waits a beat or two, then again rolls out into the intersection. Again, the car brakes to avoid him. I begin to wonder if he might not have a functioning left eye, or perhaps some type of macular degeneration. But, then I would tend to think if that were the case, he might not so casually be drowning out his aural cues. Therefore, I can only conclude there’s an issue with a different organ.
Honestly, I don’t think in my time of riding I’ve seen two such epic examples of blissfully ignorant acts. (And to clarify, this didn’t have the definitive bumper-shaving decisiveness of a messenger blowing through cross-traffic - this had the energy of “well, it’s time to push away from the curb now and begin our merry little jaunt…”). The only reason he wasn’t picking up his teeth from the pavement is due to the attention being paid by the car drivers.
And that, my friends, is not a high-percentage move…
Be careful out there, folks. Or aware. At least be aware.
Well, things have continued to move along on that front, and while I’m cursing a schedule that prevents me from dropping everything and rushing over to the RBWHQ&L in Walnut Creek today (or tomorrow…) to see this bicycle model in person, Grant Peterson was kind enough to share some info. His words follow:
We got the first prototype Roadeo yesterday, and Mark built it up and rode it, likes it a lot. We’ll have something on the site on it tomorrow or Saturday, probably saturday… Here are some AFAQ:
1. Why does it look so unRivendellish? a. It IS steel, it IS lugged, it HAS a fork crown and a nice fork rake. You CAN fit a 35mm tire. It has longish (by race bike standards) chainstays, and a lowISH bottom bracket. It has a clamp-on front derailer. All quite in keeping with all of our bikes.
2. Threadless? a. Done it before, with the Legolas. The Roadeo will be available threaded or threadless, same price, your choice.
3. That price? a. $2,000 frame and fork. And we’ll have some package options—likely a club-rider-racerish package with a road double and SRAM brifters for around $4,200; and a country-ish version, probably with a triple….for $3,600. Specs to be determined, but one racey, one normal….with mixitup flexibility, whatever one likes.
3. Who makes it? a. ‘ford. (ed - that’d be “Waterford”)
4. Colors? a. white with red; white with blue; any color you like except white or cream, with cream.
5. Tubing? a. Mix of Reynolds 725 and TrueTemp OX Plat. As thin as I/Grant could stand to go. (0.65 butts in the tt and dt, with 0.45 bellies)
6. Frame weight? a. Well, man, the prototype frame here weighs 4lb 3oz, in a 55cm. Now, there are ways to trim another half pound off it, but not without getting super ridiculous. We’re shooting for 3.9999999999999xinfinity pounds, and think we can get there by trimming a lug, using a narrower crown, monkeying around with the chainstay brake bridge, possibly using a different bb shell and seat tube. But that’s it! Then it’ll weigh what it weighs, and it’s over.
7. Whole bike? a. as shown, 20.7. with four ounces off the frame, three off the fork (we can do this easily on a threadless), and something else, we can get it to 19.9999999999999 pounds with Jack Brown greens.
Some spec notes: The best brakes for it are the Tektro Bigmouth 57s. They’re super light, and allow 35mm+ tires, releasable without deflating. The photo shows a SRAM crank–Mark picked all the parts for it–but we may go with a D/A compact. It’s all up to Mark (I just designed the frame).
Geometry: Eventually the particulars will go onto our site, but I hate taking about decimal metric numbers as though the decimals matter and the numbers reveal the essence of the frame. I don’t like stubby chainstay even a little, but I don’t want my preference for 44.5+cm chainstays to smite this bike before it leaves the gates, and in the big pic 43/43/5 is plenty fine, and if it works for Mark, it’ll work for anybody. The rest of the numbers are right down the middle of our lane, with a slight Mark-’fluence, because Mark has that ‘fluence, and he knows. I may get a 59, so I jogged a little with the numbers for the 59, designing it just for me, but it’ll be fine for anybody who fits it. I think the bb is a few mm lower than the 57 and the 61—77 or 78 instead of 75. Not significant, but it’ll allow me the clearance I want with the fatties I’ll ride on it.
Who the bike is for: Club riders who weigh under 210l bs and who aren’t looking to load it up or ride it on trails. We have other bikes for that, and the Roadeo is for road riding with minimal gear. There are no rack eyelets (reinforces the message) but there are fender eyelets on the dropouts.
ANYBODY is welcome to come by and ride it, and we should have another prototype in a month or so. Maybe another Mark’s size, or maybe mine, not sure.
It is every bit as zippy as any road bike, and a lot more useful, comfy, safe…and lower priced than a lot of them..
