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Cutting It Short

12.07.2014 by Ray Niekamp // Leave a Comment

With the end of the semester rapidly approaching, I’m spending more time at the university, putting out fires that flare up regularly as students realize they haven’t done enough to get that A they so covet. And with standard time bringing about darkness earlier than before, I’m not getting in a lot of riding at the moment. So when the weekend comes, I’m ready to saddle up and hit the road.

But this past weekend didn’t pan out the way I expected. On Saturday, I set out to do about 25 miles, just on roads in my immediate area. It’s easy to rack up the miles without straying too far from home, and that would keep me close to get back for the Christmas shopping my wife had planned for the afternoon.

But as I set out Saturday morning, I had a vague sense of unease — that something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t put my finger on it right away, and I headed for the part of my route that would take me farthest from the house.

And then I realized what it was. I had an inordinate amount of flatulence. So much so, that I finally decided to pack it in. I headed back to the house, and attended to the problem. Then I tried to figure out what I had been eating that brought this situation on. Never did figure it out — my diet over the last two days wasn’t really any different than it normally is. Oh, well. Sixteen miles still isn’t that bad — at least I got in an hour’s worth of pedaling. It would get better Sunday, right?

Sunday’s weather was similar to Saturdays: chilly and overcast, but with a dampness in the air that led me to add leg warmers to my wardrobe. There wasn’t much in the way of wind, so that was a plus. The bike seemed to be rolling all right — a little snik-snik-snik noise coming from the wheel, but that wasn’t anything important.

I climbed the nice hill on Blazyk Drive, and hit 32 mph roaring back down. Then, I clattered over the chip seal on nearby Zyle Road for a few miles. Out along State Highway 45, the newly-resurfaced shoulder made for a fast section. On the return leg, I turned into a nice residential neighborhood to take advantage of a smooth asphalt loop where the houses haven’t been built yet.

But the snik-snik-snik was getting louder, and when I glanced down at my rear wheel, my heart sank. It was out of true, and wobbling noticeably. I pulled over to the curb, got off the bike, and spun the wheel. Sure enough, it was still clearing the brake pads, but it wasn’t good. I put my spread fingers across the spokes, and immediately found a broken one. On further checking, it was the only broken spoke on the wheel, so I thought I could get the bike home if I went directly, and didn’t continue on my planned route.

The homeward-bound trip was made without incident, although I pedaled more slowly than I normally would. Instead of 30 miles plus, that I had planned for the morning, I wound up with 19. Again, not a bad ride, but that was two weekend rides in a row I had to cut short. I need to make up for lost time on the bike, especially in view of my total mileage in November that came in at less than 200.

The bike will spend some time at the mechanic’s this week, and I’ll have it overhauled in addition to the work on the wheel. By the time the really cold weather gets here, I should be ready to roll. I just hope the rain will hold off.

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Categories // Maintenance Tags // spokes, wheels

Tone Deaf

06.26.2014 by Ray Niekamp // 7 Comments

A few days ago, I posted about a ride I took that tired me out much quicker than it should have. I thought it was because I had had too little sleep the night before. Wrong-o.

The next morning, as I rolled the bike out of the garage to put it in my car for a trip to the bike shop, I noticed the rear wheel was binding a bit. At one point in its rotation, a definite drag could be felt. I examined the brake, and saw that the right side of the rear brake rubbed the wheel at that spot. Ah ha! With that drag on the wheel, it was no wonder I was tired trying to keep up.

Later, I rolled the bike into the bike shop. “I need a new chain,” I told one of the mechanics. “And this brake is binding a little.”

“Let me see that,” said the owner of the shop, as he came out from behind the service counter. He took the bike and put it up on a stand.

“Yep, you’ve got a broken spoke,” he said.

“What?” I exclaimed. I went back to the service area.

“Yeah, here, and here — and here’s a third one,” he said. “That caused the brake problem.”

I told him about the ride.

“Well, one spoke breaks, and that puts extra tension on the others, and they can fail, too,” he said.

I told him I’d pick the bike up later in the week.

“Want me to give the drive train a good cleaning, too?” he asked. “This bike has been…uh…well used.”

Thanks. I told him to go ahead, and stewed in my car the rest of the way home. Thinking back to the ride, I remembered one spot in particular. We had slowed to look at some birds along the road, when I heard an odd sound — like a ping — come from the rear wheel. I thought it was odd, and it was a sound I’d never heard before. But I didn’t think anything of it, and we resumed our ride.

Trouble was, at that point we were still about 15 miles from home. And we still had some rollers to ride, as well as two good-sized hills.

Despite my tiredness, I managed to keep up most of the way home, until the last mile when Maggie pulled well ahead of me. I must really be tired, I thought.

Stupid me. That ping I heard was the first spoke letting go. I didn’t do anything about it, because I wasn’t curious enough to check on where such an odd sound could come from in the bike. I wonder how many spokes had broken by the time we took our rest stop with eight miles to go. I wonder how long it would have taken for the whole wheel to collapse.

Oh, and I have to give my bike a good cleaning, too.

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Categories // Maintenance Tags // spokes, wheels

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