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How Far We Goin’?

05.30.2013 by Ray Niekamp // 4 Comments

Every week, our club president posts possible routes for the Saturday and Sunday club rides. Generally, the routes are a mix. Sometimes, the distance is a bit longer, but the roads are comparatively flat. Other times, a lot of climbing is involved, but the routes are a bit shorter.

Among newer riders, or riders who are coming back after some time off the bike, distance always seems to be THE measure by which a riding decision is made. The magic length is about 45 miles. Anything beyond that, and people will either beg off, or come up with a shorter route of their own.

Here’s the curious thing: Routes are usually 40-60 miles. There really isn’t a lot of variation. At the beginning of spring, it’s relatively easy for people who haven’t ridden much to start out with shorter rides, between 30-35 miles, and quickly work up to the 45-mile range. From there, stretching to 50 and even 60 isn’t a big deal.

So why is it that when he posts a ride, it’s always followed on our club’s Yahoo group by inquiries about the length? It shouldn’t matter by now — just jump in, and if you’re left behind, you’ll have a cue sheet or a map, or a Garmin display to get you home safely.

Oh, what’s that? You didn’t bother to follow the link the club president left with the route information? He posts turn-by-turn directions as well as a Garmin map. There’s really no excuse not to make a small effort to become acquainted with the directions we’ll follow on ride day.

And yet, it appears that for some people, that small effort is too much trouble. It results in riders taking wrong turns during the ride. Sometimes, their mistakes are discovered, and someone is dispatched to chase them down and get them back on the right route. But since our Sunday rides are not no-drop rides (at least for the A riders), often no help is sent.

We’ve got a ride coming up Sunday that I’ve never ridden before. Well, to be correct, I haven’t ridden about a third of the route. So I’ll be sure to have the cue sheet with me.

It’s a good thing, because after the route was posted today, one of the first responses was: “Joe, I have just one word: howlongisit?”

I was pleased to see the response: “Nottoofar.”

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Categories // clubs, Rides Tags // clubs, Rides

Back on the Bike — Sort Of

10.14.2012 by Ray Niekamp // 4 Comments

I thought I was out of the woods. After my derailleur hanger blew up last weekend, our club mechanic took a quick look at it and told me to order a new one from derailleurhanger.com. I did. They sent it out midweek, and the other day, I installed it on the bike.

So far, so good. It’s a simple job of screwing the new hanger in place. If you order the correct model, there’s no problem.

But when I tried to mount the derailleur to the hanger — problem.

What neither I nor the bike mechanic noticed was the extent of damage to the derailleur itself. I was less shocked to see the broken arm than I was to see that a large chunk of the jockey wheel was gone. I’m not sure if that happened when the hanger broke, or if it had been wearing away stealthily for a long time.

I hauled the bike back to the mechanic, and asked him to find a replacement and give me a call when everything was shipshape. He figured he could find one locally, and that it would cost about $100. Ouch.

But one of the benefits of being a semi-famous biking blogger surfaced the very next morning, when one of my readers emailed me to tell me he had a spare derailleur in his parts box. (I gotta get a parts box going myself.) Not only that, but he was generous enough to offer it to me gratis. I jumped at the offer. Maybe, by this time next week, I’ll be back on my own velocipede.

In the meantime, I still had to get some riding in. Saturday morning, my wife wanted to do her long ride of the week, and I took the mountain bike down from the hooks in the garage, pumped up the tires, and joined her. It’s not in the greatest shape, but it goes all right, if I can ever get used to the way the front suspension dives when I put on the brakes. I feel like I’m going to launch myself over the bars sometimes when I stop quickly.

That’s okay. On the return leg of our ride, I found myself behind two young lovelies at the stoplight just before HEB Hill. Now, this isn’t a steep hill, but it’s long enough to be a tester. I recalled being passed by mountain bikes going up the hill, and felt cocky enough to think that I might be the mountain bike doing the passing this time.

The light turned green. The young women pushed off slower than I expected, given the fact that they were a lot slimmer than I, and were on some decent road bikes — a Scott and a Bianchi. I stayed on their wheels up the hill, past the entrance to the supermarket parking lot, when I saw that I probably could pass them. But I didn’t. You’ve gotta know you’re racing to be in a race, right? They were chatting with each other while pedaling easily up the grade. I could feel myself starting to push hard just to stay with them. At the top of the hill, I crossed over to the left turn lane, and while doing so, drew even with them. They glanced my way, then kept on at their steady pace. No reason for them to care about another old fart on a bike, right?

It’s good that I have the mountain bike as a backup if I need it, but I prefer my road bike. That afternoon, I visited my friends Rick and Penny to once again borrow Rick’s titanium Airborne — the same one I had used several months ago. “The rear tire has a lot of miles on it,” Rick said. “You’ll want to keep an eye on it.” No big deal, and I was glad to have the option to ride a decent bike.

It rained Sunday morning, canceling our regular 8 a.m. club ride. But the skies cleared rapidly, and in another hour, the club president was posting a 10 a.m. start for those who didn’t mind riding on wet streets. I was among the first to show up.

The sun was shining brightly, but the streets weren’t drying as fast as they might have if the humidity hadn’t remained so high. We planned to head south to Buda, then across Interstate 35 into a rural area before heading back — perhaps 50 miles or so. As we pulled onto the bike lane along the major thoroughfare that runs past the coffee shop where we start our rides, I could see that the usual grit and gunk was heavy on the road surface after the rain. I made sure to keep the bike’s wheels pointed away from the trouble as we turned east.

But it was bound to happen. Pffffstt! I heard. “Flat!” I shouted, as I braked to a stop. The peloton zoomed ahead, but one rider, Rob, stopped along with me.

I was grateful that he did. Not because I can’t fix a flat — it’s one of the few bike maintenance tasks I can handle competently — but because my seatbag with the spare tube and the tire levers, along with my pump, was still on my own bike, which is ensconced in the bike mechanic’s garage. Rob gave me his spare tube, and the use of the mini-pump he carries. By the time things were back to normal, he was well behind the group.

“I’ll pedal like crazy and see if I can catch them,” he said. “If I can’t, well, I’ll have a nice ride of my own.”

He took off. I turned back the way I had come. It was just prudent to head home, rather than risk another flat. Anyway, I got a new personal best out of it — at about five miles, it’s the shortest club ride I’ve ever ridden.

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Categories // clubs, Components, Maintenance, tires Tags // derailleur, derailleur hanger, flat tire

What a B Ride Should Be

09.02.2012 by Ray Niekamp // Leave a Comment

My friend David wanted to ride together this weekend. Then my friend Buddy wanted to know if I was leading a club B ride Sunday morning.

I saw a chance to kill two birds. I scheduled a B ride on the club Yahoo group, and agreed to lead it. Usually, that brings one or two people out who might not otherwise come. We had a total of seven — pretty good.

I suggested to David that we make a run to Kyle — 23 miles south of town, for a 45-mile round trip. But when I saw the newcomers sitting around outside Starbucks before the ride, I left the decision up to them: Kyle, or a short out-and-back to Buda, for about 32 miles total; or we could split the difference for a 38-miler. The third choice won.

On the way out, another rider jumped onto our group.  Chris said he had been meaning to come out for a club ride for awhile but never got around to it.

At the end of a long gradual uphill, I heard a shout from one of the women in the group. Tara had dropped her chain. Her boyfriend Lucien came to the rescue and got her going again — but only a mile beyond, the group stopped while Buddy fiddled with his own dropped chain.

“Buddy is an optometrist,” I said while he worked. “So he always keeps a supply of surgical gloves handy.” Everyone chuckled, while Buddy got his chain adjusted, and we moved out again.

The pace was steady. Not too slow, not too fast. Steve, who was doing his first ride with us, found common ground with Buddy, since Steve used to teach the visually impaired in the Austin schools — and had even started a tandem bicycle club for them once. Newcomer Jan showed she was no newcomer to riding, because she had the knack of grabbing a wheel and motoring along smoothly behind a pacer.

When we got to Buda, we stopped at the Walgreens for a break. Depend on the fountains at the drug store to have cold water for bottle refills. I explained the next part of the route to the group, and we set out.

We rode through old downtown Buda, then turned onto Cole Springs Road, which leads through some forested areas and puts us in shade for awhile. The group stayed more or less together, which pleased me. But once we got to Farm Road 1626, we were in for another long gradual incline. Tara, the newest rider in the group, fell behind. Lucien stuck with her and we got to the turnaround.

“Here’s where it gets fun,” I said. “We’ll go downhill all the way back to Buda. We’ll go 30 mph through here.”

Lucien and Chris took me at my word, and shot off the front. I tried to catch them, with no luck. The riders strung out along the road, and we arrived back in Buda with large gaps between us. Lucien said he would wait for Tara while we went back to the Walgreens for a regroup.

Somehow, David had missed the part about regrouping at Walgreens, and didn’t see me as I tried to wave him down. He passed the store and headed off alone. We parked bikes in the shade and took advantage of the store’s air conditioning to replenish ourselves.

The route home varied from the route out. We turned onto Twin Creeks Road, which winds and dips and climbs for several miles. Tara was slowing by now, and I stayed back with her to coax her back to the group. Once we gathered again, we took a new route through a new subdivision — one that lets us stay off too-busy Brodie Lane and skip a dicey left turn.

Tara and Lucien turned off for a shortcut home. Chris turned in the opposite direction to go to his house. That left Jan, Steve, Buddy and me to reach the finish at Starbucks and sit around for some cold beverages. Steve thought the ride was a perfect distance, but Jan was ready for a few more miles. We all agreed the pace was just right — we averaged 14 mph for the 38 miles. A few A riders who had not done their entire route — 5100 feet of climbing — were there to greet us, and we compared notes.

The consensus was that it was a great ride. No one pushed beyond the abilities of the group, we got out in the country and rode some nice roads, and the terrain was varied enough to keep things interesting. These are the kinds of rides I like to do, and we’re going to be doing more soon.

 

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Categories // clubs, Rides Tags // B ride

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