See the original on YouTube.
Carbon fiber has a far better reputation than it did when I was building the titanium Yellow Maserati, but I still avoid it (link goes to the site at Busted Carbon, although I doubt any carbon-fiber fans will click on it). It turns out that Francis Cade, who's far from a retrogrouch like me, posted a video with expert opinion on parts that should not be carbon fiber.
I'm stickin' to my opinion: I don't ride no plastic bikes.
Given the events of the week before, I'm surprised this ride went off as well as it did.
Given the events of the week before, I'm relieved this ride went off as well as it did.
Given the events of the week before, I'm grateful this ride went off as well as it did.
See, the thing is, I've been retired for about a year and a half. We're trying to have me live off only my Social Security, leaving my retirement savings (and my two laughably small pensions) for after my wife retires in a few more years.
Now, last year, I wound up with several thousand dollars in unexpected dental expenses, so I was hoping to make up for that this year. But during the week, the car started running rough, and the "check engine" light was on, and the display screen would only show warnings. So I limped into the dealership.
Diagnostics determined that rodents had gotten into the engine, and had chewed up wiring, hoses, the engine covering, and other impedimenta in there to the tune of another several thousand dollars. This additional expense just sent me into a tailspin. It's not enough that it affects my retirement; I have the savings to pay it... but all I could see was an endless line of upcoming expenses for which I could not plan and had not budgeted. Rumination and overthinking took over. The anxiety disorder (to which I've alluded in other posts) came to visit, and unpacked as for a long stay.
I almost always post rides for Sundays on the club website, and I posted a ride for today... but a friend pointed out that the route I'd posted didn't correspond with the description I'd put in. I hastily corrected the route info, and emailed the five registrants that the route would be different, and would have substantially more climb (one registrant cancelled).
I'm blaming my confusion and poor focus on the earlier events, and my poor mental health.
But I still got ten other riders for today, including two who decided to meet along the route.
Many of my readers are bike-y people, and I won't need to tell you what a salutary effect 39 miles at a reasonable pace can have on the troubled mind. The ride was like medication.
We did one of my regular routes down through Princeton, and then up into Hopewell to the Boro Bean.
Do you think we have enough pogies on all them bikes?
One rider had a flat on the ride back, and was bemoaning his poor technique, but the day had warmed, and we weren't in a hurry, and a few of us helped, and a few others told stories of more experienced riders with even worse technique.
And it turned out to be a good day. Ride page.
I do daily exercise, and, if I'm exercising in the house, I listen to podcasts. During the pandemic isolation, the Home Cooking podcast, from Samin Nosrat and Hrishikesh Hirway, was running (and they did two Thanksgiving episodes thereafter).
I'm never going to be much of a cook, but I treasured this podcast. I found Samin's voice, and her laugh, and the interaction between her and Hrishi, soothing and comforting.
I'd save up these episodes for particularly bad days. Much of my anxiety was work-related, so after I retired, I didn't need the soothing as much, and I had two episodes I hadn't listened to yet.
This week was pretty bad (I may do a post about that), and I played one of the remaining episodes today. It still worked as I remembered. My mind is better. And there's one more in the can, and I've still got all the other episodes I can replay, if I need.
Ms Nosrat will probably never know (or, likely, care) how helpful she's been. But this podcast saved me on some of my darkest days.
I do a daily (well, more-or-less) discipline about remembering what to be grateful for and what I need to focus on each day. Today, this podcast is going on the gratitude column.
Sometimes, the ride just comes together: the route, the day, the company. This one was just about right for me today.
Many of the faster folks who come on my rides were off doing a faster-rated club ride led by Marco B out of Mercer Park. They're certainly welcome on my rides, but they often go off the front and have to wait for me and any others who don't keep up with 'em.
Instead, I had a crew for whom the 12.0-13.9 speed rated for the ride was around the pace at which they wanted to ride (we came in a little faster, but nobody appeared to be struggling too much, or falling off the back.
Some were new to this ride, and warned that they might be a bit slow... but one of those with the most dire predictions of slow speed, was frequently out front (especially in the last few miles, when an observer might have expected to see evidence of fatigue).
And four riders rode in to the start, which was unexpected on such a cold morning (the day did warm, though).
We stopped at the Blawenburg Bistro, and contributed to their various retirement plans.
Riders generally made noises like they had a good time and would come back. And it was a good day for me.
Steve S has a car engine in the back of his SUV for a project with his son. Ask him about it; you won't be sorry, because it's a great story.
As my ol' pal, Bobby B, wrote:
...The best laid schemes
o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley.
I was planning to do Steve S's a-little-under-40-mile-ride from Cranbury today, with Ralph and Naveen.
...and then we adjusted the route to go to Ralph's to switch bikes, and then I got a message that made me change plans. I wound up with about 20 miles. Better than no ride at all, of course, and I'm glad I met Naveen. I'm sure I'll ride again with Ralph and Steve, and I'll have to plan to go on a ride that Steve leads, just to prove that I CAN finish with him - after all, we don't want this to become an omen, do we?
A micromort is a unit of risk defined as a one-in-a-million chance of death.
According to this page, cycling 28 miles in a day incurs a risk of one micromort.
This page tells me that getting out of bed after age 45 incurs a risk of six micromorts. Going for a swim risks twelve; playing football (the American flavor, "handegg") risks 20.
You can keep your benighted high-viz-yellow cycling gear. Put that high-viz-yellow on your swim trunks and football jerseys.
Well, if you had a picture that good, wouldn't you lead off with it?
There are riders who won't come on my C+ rides (average pace 13.0-14.9mph) because even though I ride within the average pace (unless everyone else is way off the front), they don't want to be left behind. I don't leave riders behind.
Sometimes I get left behind.
And sometimes, the fellow riders who could leave me behind, don't, and make sure that I catch up with 'em, and even let me lead for a bit. I'm sure it's partly to make sure that I keep listing some of these rides. (Mine was the fastest-paced club ride listed for today, for example).
Today's was over one of my usual routes. I call it "annoying hills adjusted". One of the riders asked about the "adjusted" in the name; I said I had adjusted the route to avoid one of the riskier turns from the original route. Another rider wondered if I'd adjusted out any of the annoying hills.
I had not. There's only about 1100' of climb on this ride, but much of it is steeper than you'd like, or otherwise unnecessarily unpleasant. (I'll have to think for a bit about "necessary unpleasantness.")
Above, my view for a substantial part of the ride. Below, one of the occasions when the riders were displaying politeness.
We stopped at Thomas Sweet, where I got out-of-focus indoor pictures.
And back. The riders were a bit more mellow after the stop... but I was still the last one in.
I'm hoping that as the weather warms, some of you club members who ride at a pace closer to mine will come out, so I can have some company, and so I won't try to show off to these faster folks. Maybe you can help save me from my worst instincts.
Regular readers may remember that I started learning to sew over COVID, and people who know me will not be surprised to hear (and may already have figured out on their own) that I like to be a little overdressed for any occasion. Decades ago, I worked with a woman (it's all I can do not to say "I worked with a girl..."; while she had the age to be a woman, she had attitude and irresponsibility I associate with girlhood) who had a suit consisting of a frock coat and flared pants. I have low-key wanted a coat like that ever since (it's basically a blazer with a knee-length lower hem). I've made four of 'em: neither of the first two was worth saving and are now banished from the house; I wore the third to an event over the weekend (and yes, I was a little overdressed for the event).
The last time I was in the fabric store, I saw some lovely suiting fabric, and decided I just had to try the frock coat again. Laura OLPH was rooting for purple with contrasting piping, but the ghosts of my WASP ancestors put their foot RIGHT down on that suggestion (I'm sure we'd find my homophobe father would be turning in his grave at the whole idea of my sewing at all ["No son of mine..."], if there were enough of him left to know he'd turned, but he was cremated, and how would you know if his ashes were restless?), but I did go for bright salmon lining in bridal satin, q.v. in the picture above.
That's the bodice lining. It took me most of two days to assemble (although I don't work eight hours a day on it), partly because the original pattern doesn't include the inside pockets, which I had to design, cut parts for, and let into the pieces (a terrible, but unfortunately true riddle: Q: What's a man's blazer without inside pockets? A: A woman's blazer). I cut the pieces for jacket, lining, pockets, and all on Saturday, and between pressing, layout, and cutting, it took about five hours (I'm sure someone who knows what they're doing can cut it in less than half that).
The lining fabric is bridal satin, which is just a joy to work with; it's got body (unlike many thin lining fabrics) and stays pressed. The cut edges were shedding like crazy, but it's a polyester, so I figured that if I singed the edges, the fraying would stop. That worked a treat, but don't let the fabric catch fire when you're using the lighter.
The bodice lining includes the upper collar, and I was getting tired and cranky by the time I was putting that on; I had to cut the stitches and reassemble a number of times, which tells me it's time to quit for a while.
Next is the outer bodice, which should take a little less time (all the pieces are in the pattern, and I've made a few mistakes I can avoid on the outer, which is one of the reasons I do the lining first). And then the sleeves. Assembling the sleeve pieces is straightforward, but fitting them to the bodice (both the lining and the outer) requires attention: the sleeves are larger than the arm holes they go into, and the technique for fitting the sleeves is not forgiving. (You could have seen several ways to do it wrong on the ones I threw out.)
I've done enough of this stuff to know that when I finally get to the point that the lining and the outer are assembled, I'm only about 60% finished; there is a large amount of special finishing and hemming, and eleven or thirteen buttons to go on. I expect it to be complete in about a month.
For no reason, below find the side of the lining that will be hidden, showing the guts of the inside pockets:
Since I make 'em to suit myself, they're each large enough to hold either my oversized wallet or my cell phone.
No, I won't make one for anybody else. But if you need alterations...
