plus, we got to go across a closed causeway

 

I posted this ride late Friday, after another disorganized week (The Excellent Wife [TEW] was out of town for a few days, and I was living a life of retired-bachelor dissipation in her absence). Despite that, I got twelve other registrants, some of whom planned to meet along the route (one of those was John W, who had warned me about the flooded canal yesterday).

With warmer weather predicted than recently, I decided to revert to several-layers-under-a-long-sleeve-jersey. My warmest seems to be this Briistol-Myers long-sleeve jersey in white and what I initially thought was pink in the dim light in which I was dressing, so I tied a pink bandanna around my left forearm as a handkerchief.

We left after a variation on my usual pre-ride speech (PFW ride-leader-meeting attendees: yes, I really do it before every ride), and headed up toward Blackwells Mills/Six Mile Run, where there was a porta-potty (evidently, there had been a dog walker around the back of the school, so the usual grass was not available to be watered).

By the time we got up to Amsterdam Drive, a couple of the riders let the downhill tailwind run away with 'em or something, and they missed a turn. I shouted after, but they continued, Well, if you're off the front, you're on your own, so I proceeded.

Several miles later, someone spotted them behind, and we waited. There was a remark made suggesting a violation of my no-drop policy, but I insist that the policy applies to those in back; club rules and my description make it clear that the policy does not apply to those in front.

Riders were better-behaved as we came down East Mountain, and rode towards Harlingen. One of the riders who had gone off the front stated he was tired; we discussed a possible shorter route for him to take back. I offered an escort; he declined (and made it back; I have since verified with the rider).

The rest of use went to Thomas Sweet.

Bad news at Thomas Sweet: they are moving to a new (nearby) location... but they may be stopping the coffee-and-pastry format to concentrate on ice cream and chocolates. I may need to search for a new rest stop.

While there, Roger M and Stacy P remarked on a certain feminine je ne sais quoi in both my outfit (so much pink and lavender!) and my gait. I laughed. My homophobe father would have turned in his grave to hear such a thing, if there were enough of him left to turn (we had him cremated, so even if his ashes are disturbed, it's unlikely anyone would notice).

Along the route, David G and I were talking about the ravages of time, and he said he was "gracefully embracing the frailties of aging", and I thought that was too great of a phrase not to be commemorated. Thanks, Dave.

John W had turned off the ride by the time we got to the Griggstown Causeway, but he would have had an "I told you so" moment:

It was closed, but dry. I felt like I was channelling Tom H. Another notch on my ride-leader top tube, or something.

Ride page. Once again, right in the middle of the PFW C+ range.

chance of dying

 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. 

 

 

 

new cycling jersey

 

It's a shame I look like a dentist in scrubs in that picture, because that jersey pattern came out well, and is probably one or two iterations away from what I really want.

Yeah, I'm working on making my own jerseys. I'm not paying for the good ones, and I don't like the fit of the cheap ones, and I don't like the zippers. I'm never gonna pull down that zipper; keeping my scrawny, grey-haired chest covered is a spiritual work of mercy and a service to the community.

The fit is good; the pockets are deep in back without being so high at the waist that it's hard to reach into 'em. The fabric is sweat-wicking, and a good weight: not heavy, not too flimsy.

Regular readers know that I started sewing during the pandemic. When you start sewing, you wind up making an awful lot of stuff that turns out to be only good for rags. This is probably my tenth jersey, and I only have one other that I'd actually wear. I made two for fellow club members, but those had zippers in, and for the zippers and for other reasons, I'm not really happy with those.

There are a couple of more details I need to work on. But expect to see that seafoam jersey when then weather warms. (I might try a long-sleeve version next...)

On Facebook, I saw ads for this Ocean & San; one of their slogans is "Looks like a shirt; rides like a jersey" (they use a comma instead of the semicolon, but don't worry; I corrected 'em).  That's kind of the vibe I think I'm going for. It's recently come home to me that almost nobody I ride with or hang around with has the same ideas about bikes, cycling, or accessories as I do. Oh, well.

it felt colder as the day went on

 

Laura OLPH posted a club ride for today, starting from Skillman Park, the grounds of the old Epileptic Village. This start location is closer to my house than most of the other club starts (so it assuages my climate-change guilt about driving to a ride start, even though I do so in my Prius). 

We looked at the combination of clouds and blue sky, and hoped for warming as the day went on. Laura took care of our chill quickly, though, by leading us right off the bat on a demanding, multi-mile climb up Fairview, Pin Oak, and Long Hill Road, and by the time we'd done that, we weren't complaining of cold (most of us didn't have breath enough to do much complaining at all...)

 We couldn't tell if there had been any progress on the bridge to Zion-Wertsville. It doesn't show well in the picture, but there's rebar visible at the close end of the bridge that hasn't rusted, and the support lumber for the arch is fresh... but us that second arch new construction? I don't know if that was there before (and I'm not gonna look for my earlier photo now).

Anyway, the rest of the ride had a much more sensible elevation profile, as you can see from the ride page.

We stopped at a Wawa near Three Bridges.

I also noticed this place across from the Wawa, and wondered if that might make a stop:

...but a quick web search suggests they're more boutique-grocery than rest stop.

Before we rode out, the skies were more grey and cloudy, with no perceptible blue (Rickety thought he saw blue off to the right at the horizon, but I think it was hope adding some azure to his vision). I'm pretty sure it was colder (and perceptibly damper) on the second part of the ride (although perhaps it was just the lack of that demanding uphill in the first part).

Laura pointed out these noticeable tights, and thought pictures might be in order. She usually avoids pictures, so I was happy to oblige:

Rider Bob L thought squares on the right leg and circles on the left, but I'm holding out for bubbles on the left leg and checkerboard on the right. They're available from Running Funky. I see they have a whole selection of half-and-half, each-leg-is-a-different-pattern tights, and you can also bespeak your own combinations. I'm sure I'm far too square to ever be allowed to buy such things, but you may want to take a look, if standard black tights are too staid for you.

on affordable bikes

 On a recent ride, several of the Insane Bike Posse were discussing how many bikes we had. The range was pretty wide: one rider has, I think, nine (Edit: I've been informed the number is five). I was the low end; I have two: the Krakow Monster, my gravel/monstercross bike, with two-inch-wide tires, built on a heavy steel Surly Cross Check frame; and the Yellow Maserati, my titanium road bike.

Knowing about my love for mechanic work, and for the beautiful lugged-steel frames, my co-riders found this hard to believe, but it’s true: I don’t have any other bikes. (We’re not counting the road bike and the hybrid that my wife has; I don’t ride those.) So the next question was about my parts collection.

I thought I had about seven wheels that were not attached to bikes (I just checked; there are actually nine, and two rims that haven't been built up into wheels yet), along with:

• Two sets of cranks;
• Three pairs of pedals;
• Four sets of shifters, including a pair of lever shifters that can be used on downtube bosses or as bar ends;
• A set of road caliper brakes;
• At least one vee-brake (supposedly a rear, but vee-brakes are interchangeable front to rear);
• Two saddles;
• A seatpost;
• Three rear derailleurs;
• Two front derailleurs;
• And various and sundry accessories I’ve picked up here and there. As well as whatever stuff I’ve forgotten to list.

None of this includes the tubes, cable, and housing that I keep for my mechanic business.

The sense of the meeting was that these do not count as an additional bike, because there’s no frame to hang them on. But it did provide a way to start this post, which has been percolating for a long time (as you'll be able to tell by its inordinate length).

I’m friends with a rider who has a collection of bikes, mostly steel-framed, all Italian, all beautiful. They are lovely machines. I could probably afford a bike like that, but, given the limited space I have, I’m going to forgo owning one.

Other riders maintain their bikes, or collections, to have the lightest bikes, or the latest-and-greatest components (these are not always the same as the lightest!), or what the winningest pros ride. Or to have bikes for every different kind of riding they do, or ever might consider doing.

Those aren’t my interests. My bikes, and the parts I’ve collected, are really about bikes that are affordable – about a balance between cost and performance.

The titanium frame I got is a brand you’ve probably never heard of (the decals were ugly and started to wear off, so I removed ‘em). My first road bike was an aluminum Giant with a carbon-fiber fork. The fork got a scratch, and, in those days, carbon fiber had a reputation for “catastrophic failure”: breaking suddenly (often without warning), possibly causing injury to the rider. (The website at "busted carbon" hasn't been updated in more than a decade, but it was scary at the time...)

I replaced the fork with a steel fork…

...and then decided I could build up a bike myself, starting with the components from the aluminum bike, and swapping out the parts bit by bit until I had the bike I wanted. I found the titanium frame for less than $1000, with geometry and measurements I could deal with (I knew a lot less about bike frame geometry than I do now; I was lucky that the frame worked out for me as well as it did) (and the frame is still available for about $1400; some of the older model are still at the original price).

The groupset I used was a SRAM Rival set, on which I got a great price. After a few years, the shifting started getting dodgy, and I replaced it with the Gevenalle set I have now, which places modified downtube-lever shifters outside the brake levers. They’re light and inexpensive, and they also change to friction-shifting mode, which I’ve been using for a few years (and they have a few other advantages, about which I’ll happily bend your ear if you give me the slightest provocation).

I’ve also tried the Sensah Empire 2x11 groupset, a mechanical groupset from a Chinese manufacturer, which I’ll put on my wife’s bike the next time her shifters need adjusting.

All of these groupsets are reasonably-priced, and they all work well. Now I see that even lower-end components for the big groupset manufacturers are going to electronic shifting. I think this will raise the entry price for bicycling… and I hate that.

All those parts I listed above? They’re mostly things I’ve tried (like the Sensah Empire set), or things I have in stock in case replacement parts for the bikes I currently have become unavailable. (My favorite saddle was a Specialized Body Geometry that the stopped making. I wore out two of ‘em, and only replaced the last one when I fell in love with the Selle Anatomica’s that I have on both bikes now. And since manufacturers either go out of business, or change models, I have a spare Selle Anatomica saddle in the box. I hate it that bike stuff just disappears.)

I’ve got no interest in upgrading to disk brakes, or electronic shifting, because I don’t want to have to buy the new frame to hang them on, and I don’t think they’ll make me a better rider. To me, they are additional expense, without improvement for the kind of riding I do.

I’ve been on more than one ride on which electronic shifting has failed due to batteries not being charged. I enjoy complaining about that, but that’s not a real reason to avoid electronic shifting. After all, I’ve also been on rides where mechanical shifters have had problems – for example, when cables have parted. My real objection to electronic shifting is the additional cost, without (as far as I can see) substantial additional benefit.

And I really have no interest in a carbon-fiber frame. I’ve been in discussion with someone who crashed on one, and who is considering having it sent for x-ray to see if there’s unseen damage that may cause one of those catastrophic failures to which I alluded earlier. I had a pretty bad crash in 2015 on the titanium bike. There’s a dimple in one side of the top tube that’s the only remnant of that mishap; I expect that the only reason I’ll have to get rid of this bike is when I’m physically unable to get a leg over it. I’ve worked on a number of other carbon-fiber frames: two of them have wear at the chainstays as if the tire had worn off the paint layer and was cutting into the plastic that holds the carbon fibers in place. Tapping with a coin does not show weakness on those frames, but I’ve not seen anything similar on metal frames. And I’ve seen what appears to be clearcoat and paint flaking off an older carbon frame. On a metal frame, this is just cosmetic damage. Are we sure that’s the case with carbon fiber?

When I bought my titanium frame, the seller said my grandchildren would ride it. He was unaware of my childless condition, but the case is still made.

It helps, too, that I like doing the bike mechanics. I don’t do that just to keep the bikes affordable (not with the amount of money I have invested in bike tools, truing stand, bike stand, various and sundry chemicals…), but it does mean I can do things for myself in order not to have to buy new much of the time.

I wrote a post some time ago about continuing to ride a bike you love. If you have beautiful bikes, and love to ride them… I hope you ride them forever and are very happy with them. If you love the latest-and-greatest gadgetry, or the stuff that the most successful pro’s use, and you have the financial wherewithal to support those habits (and let’s face it: among the people with whom I ride, many do!), then enjoy them.

But I think cycling should be available and enjoyable to people who are not wealthy (as I am not wealthy). My bikes and equipment will be affordable, based on my interest, abilities, and cashflow.

I hope there continues to be a place for them.

Edit 1/1/23: I just found (again) a post I wrote eleven years ago on more-or-less the same topic; at the time I called it "bicycle cheapskate".

forty-ish miles on a cold day

 

Yeah, well, maybe not the coldest of days, because the temps were above freezing at the time we left the start in Bordentown...

... but I'll bet the temps didn't get above 40°F by the time we were done. 

Tom H led us on a gorgeous route.

 We stopped to see the eagle:

And, since Tom was leading the ride, there HAD to be one of these:

A number of faster riders came along, and they were remarkably well-behaved; I think because they were on roads they didn't know well, and Tom changed the route at least once. We all got back to the start, though, intact and in good spirits.

Ride page.

After years of riding in cold weather by simply layering (sometimes five deep), I've finally bought a riding jacket. It's great; it saves a LOT of layering; it's got good pockets; it's water- and wind-resistant. I HATE  high-viz yellow, so I got an orange one, on the theory that if it's good enough for the hunters, it will probably work for me. I misinterpreted the size guide, and got an XL; I think I would have liked a large better... but this definitely works (and there's room for layering that I'll never need). I expect this coat will get a lot of use by spring.