Scenic Route

The first season is a little late this year. It seems much worse than it is after two or three successive early springs.

Walking to the grocery store today, I spied the first crocuses of spring poking up through the soil. They’ll bloom next week sometime—three, nearly four weeks later than usual.

According to my RG&E bill, March this year averaged 14°F colder than last year. It didn’t seem quite so bad, but then again under the leaden skies, it’s tough to notice things. Of course, the winds of spring have kept my attention too, whistling thorough the cracks and rattling the windows all night long, holding me back, like dragging an anvil behind the bike during the day.

I don’t ordinarily mind the spring winds. They seem to help shake the winter out of the legs and prime them for summer. But this year, all it seems to do is fatigue me.

Of course, other things are different this year too.

New job

You may recall that after 12 years, my quarter-time job dropped my position from the 2013 budget. After a small amount of belt-tightening—mainly a switch in phone and ISP—my continuous running expenses all fit within the income from my scheduled hours at the library. So it was no big crisis, only putting away savings and discretionary spending were affected.

I coasted through January and February, made some contacts, casually applied here and there. Then towards the end of February, I started one morning a week, and am now three mornings a week at Full Moon Vista Bike & Sport. It’s officially seasonal, and only nine hours most weeks, twelve occasionally. But it beats sitting around.

My pitch to them was simple. Someone needs to keep the shop in shape while the mechanics wrench, the sales people sell, and the managers manage.

While I help out here and there on the sales floor and with the mechanics, for the most part, I keep the shop in shape.

I check-in new product, and stock shelves. I dust the bikes and make sure their tires are pumped up for the big test ride that will send them off to new homes. I vacuum the floor, clean the bathrooms, sweep the sidewalk, water the plants, take out the trash and recycling. I do windows.

I’ve learned how to break rims—it’s surprisingly easy—so they fit better in the box before they go to the scrap metal dealer. I’ve also learned that having a dog around means pretty much continuous cleaning. Vacuuming the dog instead would save countless hours, but apparently that’s not allowed.

The problem is that I’ve never been a morning person, as is characterized by my library job starting after lunch time. The job at the bike shop starts at the ghastly hour of 9:30. Completely uncivilized by my reckoning. Of course it started in earnest the week after the time change, so I spent the better part of March in an extended state of jet lag.

A few nice weekend days spent cycling instead of resting, and right now, I’m exhausted. It’s like having Constant Fatigue Syndrome. (Yes, I know the official term is Chronic.)

Slowly I’m adjusting. It’s not so much an adjustment of the body and its circadian rhythms, but an adjustment of my schedule and how much (less) I can expect to accomplish in a day and in a week.

Library job

Meanwhile, at the library we were short two staff members. Our literacy aide—who assists in the Children’s Room—left shortly after the holidays, and the boss went out for February and March to have a new knee installed. She returned on Tuesday and the new literacy aide starts on Monday. So for the time being, it’ll be a little less intense at work.

Even so, the rest of us kept things up to a sufficient level that after three weeks of our patrons balloting in March, this week we received notice that we we won Honorable Mention in the Rochester Regional Library Council’s Library of the Year competition. The official announcement is in a week or two, and the awards presentation in May.

Of particular note are the friendly, efficient, and dedicated staff, and that we make the most out of the miserly resources afforded us by the City. We did it in spades for the past two months.

On the bike

Between the weather, the new job, and being short-handed at the library, I had a hard time meeting my paltry 300-mile monthly goal in March. There was just too much sleeping to do.

Still, I tried to make the most out of every ride. We rode the pavé nearly every day, sometimes twice a day. They can’t have all the fun in the cobbled classics in Belgium.

I finally got the new bike (which still has no name) out on the cobbles too. It gobbles the cobbles. The other day we charged right up my favorite cobbled climb, while the Cadillac behind us inched its way up.

In a cemetery it’s a good idea to stay ahead of the Cadillacs, although this one was an SUV, not a hearse.

Excepting a walk to the grocery store, I rested all day today. I sub at Winton Branch tomorrow, and on Sunday, I’ll stay home, sit around and watch the hardmen race the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix in the morning, and nap all afternoon.

Yeah, that’s the plan.

Buying a three-season bike in the winter, even if “winter” is in its model name, is frustrating. I should have remembered this from when I bought YellowBike, but I didn’t.

It looks pretty hanging on its hook in the living room, enticing too, and that makes me want to take it out for a few hours. Of course, for most of last week, it was still February.

We got in our first commutes on Monday and Tuesday, and ran errands on Friday. I very nearly took the new bike Saturday, subbing at Sully Branch, but thought better of it when I considered the route I take uses a residential street that’s seldom plowed, and cuts through the school grounds. It was a good decision.

I could have gone around by a longer route, but Mr. Portland, of course, just eats that stuff up. Fresh snow? It’s all over that.

The new bike, frustrating as it is to leave it home on its hook, is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do, and that’s to help me feel happy about the chance to ride Mr. Portland, rather than feel resentful of pushing the studs on a dry day.

This week’s commuting forecast:
Mon: Mr. Portland
Tue: New bike
Wed: Jeeves
Thu: New bike
Fri: Rest day
Sat: New bike, plus first club ride of the season after work, and first club ride with the new bike.

After 13 undemanding miles on the new Ribble Winter/Audax frame, all I can say is: Wow!

You all know I have some pretty nice iron in the fleet—a Reynolds 853 steel crit bike, a Litespeed Classic from the legendary Lynskey years, and my beloved Trek Portland four-seasons all-conditions commuter. (Meet all the bikes here.)

This bike doesn’t take a back seat to any of them. That’s high praise indeed for a $136 aluminum frame ($274 with fork and headset).

This makes my sixth bike, and of the six, I’ve never been more pleased with the test ride. Of course, part of that is because my position was dialed from the start. I had the opportunity to check, recheck, adjust, double-check, triple-check and verify my contact points against the three other bikes. For that reason it felt like home before even leaving the driveway.

The components were all moved over from YellowBike—even the chain (but not the brake pads) so that was all familiar too. Although I wanted to move to contemporary bars (oversize clamping area) and I scored a set of the same model as on the Portland for $10 on fleabay.

So it should have felt—and did feel—as comfortable as a favorite old pair of sneakers. Everything else had to be the bike.

The weather was exactly what a bike called Winter/Audax was made for. Right at freezing, stiff and gusty winds from the west, a few flurries in the air, and mainly damp roads varying to wet and dry spots. The bike felt right at home on my 13-mile winter loop. It’s a little bit of everything. City streets, threading between the skyscrapers downtown, out through the university campus, a few rollers, and some suburban secondaries and arterials. Nothing too demanding.

The ride and handling were better than I had hoped. Although I know better (it’s not the material, but the build specification) I couldn’t keep from thinking This thing’s aluminum? Bumps, cracked pavement, and even speed bumps didn’t upset it one bit, and all were nicely muted somewhere between the tires and the saddle. I did have high expectations of the Deda carbon fork, and it delivered. It is equal to the forks on the other bikes.

I’m getting pretty good at reading geometry charts too. The main triangle in the 58 cm size is identical to that of my 57 cm Litespeed. So I expected that to be well-rounded. The longer chainstays give some more stability to the back end, which will come in nice when the panniers are on and fully loaded. When YellowBike was loaded, the tail wagged the dog.

Audax cyclists (Randonneurs here in North America) usually use handlebar bags and have some load on the front, which calls for lower trail figures than a typical roadie. Full geometry figures weren’t published, but I expected the Dedacciai Black Rain audax fork to fall on the low side of neutral. This seems to be the case since the bike has an ever so slight desire to right itself when cornering. Not that we did any carving—only run-of-the-mill turns from one street to the next.

In all, the pleasant ride and agreeable handling seem suited to the bike’s intended role as backup commuter in the three-seasons, and above-freezing conditions commuter in the winter.

This week’s commuting forecast is for no studs, so the Ribble Winter/Audax should get a good workout. The loaded panniers test will be tomorrow on the hills, parks, cemetery and trails route, which includes the cobbled climbs in the cemetery.

Followup report next weekend, pics soonish (after I borrow a cam).

It’s been a bit of a roller-coaster these past few days. The new Ribble Winter/Audax frame arrived last Thursday. All the happy new bike stuff feelings are tempered by removing parts from YellowBike and preparing it for retirement.

Right up until the end, I still really liked YellowBike and looked forward to every ride. It had taken years to tame it, and with the switch from Gatorskins to Grand Prix 4-Seasons a year ago November, it became a pleasure to ride without reducing its friskiness one bit. It was a really nice combination of comfort, performance, and utility. Not to mention it was still fairly cheap, even after all my upgrades.

I will miss it tremendously.

But as I learned early, and have repeated often when asked for advice, “The purpose of your first bike is to teach you what you want and need in your second bike”. This applies too within categories of bikes.

As my first road bike, YellowBike taught me what I wanted and needed in both my primary, four-seasons, all-conditions commuting bike (Mr. Portland) and in my other sport/club bikes (Jeeves and Blue Steel). Without its lessons, I could easily have gone off the rails.

As I prepare it for retirement, it continues to teach me. It taught me that I get really nervous when I have only one commuting bike. Having a backup, ready to roll at any time, is very reassuring.

It taught me that I like variety between different bikes too. I’d been offered a Portland frameset to replace YellowBike, identical in size, color and even model year to Mr. Portland. Mr. Portland remains the one bike I’d own if I could own only one. But when I can own others, I’d like them to be different from one another.

It taught me that although there are training benefits to studded snow tires, I really don’t want to ride them if they’re not required. This winter I began to resent having to ride Mr. Portland if it wasn’t snowy or icy.

And as I disassemble it, it’s teaching me that all the advice form mechanics about preparing for dis-assembly while building-up a bike, pays off. Even the bottom bracket—which hasn’t been touched since January 2007 and has been ridden through every winter and countless rainy days—unscrewed easily, and after degreasing, looks nearly new. Not a single part was stuck or frozen in place. I still have to drive out the headset bearing cups, but they’re pressed-in, so some effort to remove them is expected.

Ah, but that’s for another day, along with its final cleaning and polishing before being hung on the wall. For now, it’s in the box the new frameset came in. I’m tying not to think of it as a coffin.

New frameset

First, I’m very impressed the with the new frame. I’d searched and searched for an aluminum road frame with rack and fender eyelets that could fit full fenders over 28mm tires (even though I currently run 25s on it). The only one I found that was available as a frame-only or frameset-only (not a complete bike) was the Ribble Winter/Audax.

(There appears to be a misprint on the Ribble web site. It says, “Designed to accept tyres upto 700×23mm”. It should probably read “32mm”. There’s plenty of clearance with 28s and full fenders. 32s shouldn’t be a problem, depending on which brakes and fenders you choose.)

The price, $136.01, was both relieving and concerning. It was relieving in that I could easily afford it, even if it turned out to be a mistake (like with the tire clearance). It was concerning in that I had no idea of the sort of quality I’d be getting.

I liked that its frame geometry chart looked nearly identical to that of Jeeves. I’ve come to appreciate Jeeves’ “classic” geometry. It fits my riding style well. Jeeves “disappears” beneath me more often, more completely, in more conditions, and for longer periods of time, than any of my other bikes. With the new frame, I’m hoping to find out how much of that is build, and how much is the geometry.

The new bike varies from Jeeves some. The top tube is 2 millimeters shorter. The head tube is a bit longer, but when the integrated headset is installed, the measurement from the fork crown to the top of the headset is identical to the same measurement on Jeeves.

The rear triangle is 2 centimeters longer, which helps accommodate the larger tires, and should stabilize it when carrying a load in the panniers. YellowBike’s only remaining fault was that with its shortish chainstays, it got squirrely with more than 20 pounds or so on the back.

OOBE

The out-of-box-experience was full of pleasant surprises.

The cobalt-blue paint is flawless under a good thickness of clearcoat. (And near as I can tell, it’s the same shade of blue as Blue Steel.) I’ve of two minds on this. Old reviews I found of the frame faulted the paint as being thin, and the decals were exposed—no clearcoat. I had hoped I could de-badge the bike, so I liked the idea of no clear-coat. But they’ve improved the paint, and clear-coated over the decals. Nicer finish, but I can’t de-badge it.

All the screws and fittings were included. Bottle cage screws, rack mount screws, the seatpost collar, the downtube cable stops, and the cable guide that goes under the bottom bracket shell were all there and installed.

A real surprise was a bolt-on version of a braze-on front derailleur hanger. Mr. Portland’s original 6603 FD (replaced with a 5703 when I was experimenting with the 5703 levers) has a removable band clamp. Voila! A braze-on mount FD!

So along with the fork and bars, the FD makes only three pieces that won’t be moved over to the new bike. And the bottle cages. YellowBike will keep its yellow bottle cages in retirement.

YellowBike’s Wound Up Road Fork with fender eyelets can’t move over, since it was made with a one-inch steerer tube to fit YellowBike. One of the decisions I had to make when searching for frames was whether or not to buy an older frame to fit the fork. Ultimately I decided to change with the times. And luckily, I’ve had two offers to buy the Wound Up. It will go to a good, new home, and it’ll pay some of the cost of the new bike.

It’s the same issue with the bars. YellowBike’s bars use the old standard 26mm diameter clamping surface. Newer bars are 31.8mm. Besides, I have to hang YellowBike with something. I’ve seen pictures where folks use handlebars. Attach the bars to the wall, and place the bike in the drops. It will also be a perfect way use that last box of yellow/blue splash bar tape I have in the cupboard.

Ribble sells two carbon forks with mudguard eyes for the Winter/Audax frame. There’s the $91 (when purchased with the frame) CSN Black Storm fork, and the $115 Dedacciai Black Rain fork. I’ve never heard of CSN, but I know Dedacciai makes high quality stuff (and they’re Italian). So despite the extra 70 grams, I spent the extra $24 and got the Deda.

It was the same for the headset. The Cane Creek integrated headset was only a couple of dollars more than either a no-name one or Ribble’s house brand one. Both Mr. Portland and YellowBike have Cane Creek headsets, and they’ve been flawless, so I went with the Cane Creek, which Ribble kindly installed before shipment. (Although strangely, the crown race wasn’t pressed on the fork.)

I like the $35 Dura-Ace cable sets, so a set each of Dura-Ace brake cables and derailleur cables—in blue to go with the paint—filled out the order.

In all—frame, fork, headset, and cables—with shipping, exchange, and the bank’s international service fees, was $392.20.

On Fleabay I found bars identical to Mr. Portland’s, but in 38mm width, which I find I’m preferring to the “standard” 42mm. They were under $20 including shipping, so for a shade over $400, I have a whole new commuting platform for the tried, true, and trusted components I’ll be moving over.

WTF?

The package had been delivered to work on Thursday. I brought it home on Friday. Friday night I pulled YellowBike’s fenders and wheels and slipped them in place on the new frame. The rear wheel was cock-eyed. I tried again, turned it around, and tried that way. Same thing. I pulled Blue Steel’s rear wheel to try. Same damned thing.

Under the brake bridge, instead of the brake mount being centered over the tire, it was over the edge of the rim! In the chainstay bridge, it was the same, only in the other direction. Near as I could tell, the frame was twisted. (But I confirmed the bike will fit 28mm tires with full fenders.)

I was crestfallen.

I left it overnight. On Saturday, I emailed Andy, local framebuilder, bike club member, and a mechanic at Full Moon Vista. I asked if I could bring the frame over to check on his alignment table. He said Sunday afternoon would be fine.

I waited a whole ‘nother day.

In a snowstorm, 11°F, and winds in excess of 20MPH, I packed the frame and rear wheel on my backpack and rode over to Andy’s.

We started out in the workstand. Andy installed the wheel and remarked, “Gee. It looks pretty good to me.” I thought he was joking. I looked, and gee, it looked pretty good to me too.

WTF?

I can’t believe I put the wheel in crooked—multiple wheels, multiple times, in exactly the same way. But here was the proof.

As long as it was there, Andy put the frame through the same alignment tests he uses on the bikes he makes. I had no idea there were so many things to check and so many ways to check and double-check, and verify each one. I learned a lot.

Lastly, we put it on the frame table. It’s a large, machined iron table that’s certified to a particular level of flatness. Somewhere way past incredibly flat and stupidly flat. Perhaps even beyond absurdly flat.

The front triangle’s head tube and seat tube are within 0.001” (one one-thousandth of an inch) of parallel. This is beyond excellent. The bottom bracket is, in Andy’s words, “Dead nuts”.

End-to-end—that is head tube to rear dropouts—the bike is within less than a half-millimeter of square. That’s in the excellent range. But Andy’s a perfectionist. A couple of passes with a rat-tail file through drive-side dropout and Andy pronounced it perfect.

“It’s as good as when I make a bike,” he concluded. “It’s excellent for a production frame—better than some that come into the shop, and certainly well done for the price.”

Confidence restored, now I can start to build it up.

I had hoped to take it on the inaugural run today. It was a beautiful day for a bike ride today, and a day off for government employees. But having lost several days, it was only today that I stripped the parts off YellowBike and degreased everything.

The forecast is for studded tires through to next week, so I have plenty of time to put everything together, do the rough, basic fitting, and get the fork’s steerer tube cut. Maybe next week we’ll have the first ride.

Meanwhile, my apartment looks like a bike shop exploded. I’ll have to deal with that next weekend.

Okay, I need a new frameset to replace YellowBike, and I want to travel this summer to two different 50+ Forum gatherings. So I’ve rummaged around in the basement and have come up with these goodies.

Everything is listed on Craigslist and some of the forums, and is subject to prior sale. Email me using the link in the sidebar—please don’t leave comments.

Shimano Ultegra 6700 components

Double RD $50
Triple FD 31.8mm clamp-on mount (Never installed, new in packaging) $30
“Silver” FC-6700 crankset, standard 53/39, 175mm crankarms, 3,429.1 miles, $160
“Dark Grey” FC-6750-G crankset, compact 50/34, 175mm crankarms, 236.4 miles, $180

Shimano “105” 5600 levers (10-speed double) $150

Last generation model, with “flying” shift cables
Left lever has one ½” scratch, otherwise they are nearly pristine.
Sorry, I won’t split the pair

Stem

Bontrager Sport Road Stem 10° x 100mm, fits 1-1/8” steerer and 26.0mm bar, $5

Assorted whatnots, your choice, $2 ea

Deda “Dog Fang” Chain Catcher, 31.7mm (new in package)
Black seatpost collar, 32mm Once you go black. . .

Yesterday I was prepping the bikes for winter, which seems finally to be getting its act together here on the North Coast.

One of the nine bullet points on my list when I bought the Trek Portland was “Room for my studded snow tires in the frame and fork”. It’s also no secret that as nice as studded snow tires are to have, on roads without snow, slush, and ice, they’re a big fat pain. (I was reminded of this today on a literal “dry run” of ten miles of errands.)

In winter, YellowBike, my backup three-seasons commuter, provides respite from pushing the darned snow tires on nice days. I tried just toughing it out, I tried changing tires with the weather, and I tried separate wheelsets. For me, a separate bike—fendered and racked—with three-season tires and KoolStop salmons works best.

Yesterday while washing YellowBike in prep for a coat of Bike Lust, I discovered a half-inch crack in the head tube. For several weeks I’ve thought it felt funny braking. Now I know why.

So I’m suddenly in the market for a new frameset. Since it’s to be the backup three-seasons commuter, and a bottom-of-the-line aluminum bike has proven to be just dandy in that role for the past six years, I’m looking at low-end aluminum road frames. Unfortunately, since YellowBike has a one-inch steerer, I’m also looking for a fork.

It’s too early to make a decision, but I’m strongly considering the Ribble Winter/Audax frame. It’ll tip the scales at about $275 for the frame, fork, and headset. (And about another $100 for cables, bottle cages, bar tape, and possibly a bottom bracket.) I’ll swap over the components, and give YellowBike an honorable retirement, hanging on the wall.

What gives me pause is that I never got even a return e-mail from that job I applied for last month. So a week from now I’ll be only partially employed. The library job pays all the bills—just barely—provided I don’t have any sick time or unpaid holidays (and barring any fiscal cliffs in Washington). My second job is the gravy.

I’m not in dire straits, but I’m also not thrilled with the prospect of tapping my savings in the first week of partial employment either. I’m likely to defer the decision as long as possible.

Ten years ago this past week, I started working for the Rochester Public Library.

Yesterday I subbed over at my old branch, the Winton Branch. On the book sale table I spied the very book that got me the job.

For years I’d done my librarying at the Central Branch downtown. At the time I was reading George R. R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series. Next in line was A Storm of Swords. And it was checked-out at Central.

I don’t recall if I asked a reference librarian, or if I consulted the catalog myself, but I found Storm of Swords was on the shelf at Winton Branch. Maybe a ten-minute walk from where I was living at the time, I’d never been there.

I hopped off the bus a few stops early and when I arrived at the branch, there was a Help Wanted sign on the door. They needed a part-time Page. A Page, the sign explained, puts the books away on the shelves.

I thought about it as I went in and found the book. I left with the book and a job application. I returned the following day with the application, cover letter and resumé. When I reached home, I there was already a message on the phone asking when I could come in for an interview.

I started on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, 2002.

Over the years at Winton, I shelved the book a few times. I saw it less often once I’d been promoted to Clerk. After its popularity faded, I rescued it twice from “weeding” before moving on to Arnett Branch. Yesterday it was on the book sale table.

It’s a trade paperback—the full-sized book but in paperback, not the pocket-sized mass-market paperback. Its cover is torn and has been book-taped together several times. Its spine is broken and there’s—no doubt by a patron—a failed repair job done with duct tape. But all the pages are there.

For good luck, I bought it for a quarter.

 

I have occasion for superstition since on Monday I’m applying for a part-time position at a suburban library. After 12 years, I’ve been laid off at my morning job effective December 31, so I need another second job. This one popped up last week.

The schedule fits around my existing job at Arnett Branch, and it’s very nearly identical to what I do at Arnett, but minus the supervision pieces I don’t care for. It’s a little less money, but mainly because I won’t have ten years seniority, nor the supervision parts. So I’m fine with that.

It sounds like a really good fit—both ways—and I’m really hoping it works out. If not, I have enough savings to make it well over a year with just the one job while I look for something else.

Still, I’ve gotten comfortable with the idea of a pile of savings, so the sooner the better. And I’d rather work at another job that contributes to my state pension (which also vested fully this week) than some of the other possibilities I’ve been considering.

With my qualifications, I doubt I’ll need it, but perhaps Storm of Swords will work its magic a second time.

I’ve been sore every day since the end of July, due to training for the Highlander. Having ridden it last weekend. I’m taking this weekend off.

Once a year, whether it needs it or not (as if) I clean the oven. Today is the day. I like to do it in the autumn while I can still have the windows open. While the Easy-Off does its thing, I have a little bit of time. Later I’ll mop the floors and clean the bathroom.

Yesterday I had brunch with a friend, then helped her at her place out in the ‘burbs for a while. After, we went to the Wal-Mart in the 315. The 315 Wal-Mart is the only place I can find Gatorade powder that I like in the three pound canisters. The Wal-Marts here in town are always sold out of everything but the lemon-lime—which to me tastes just like Pine-Sol. And BJ’s carries only the Pine-Sol flavor.

So I bought a two-year supply of my favorite, the blue stuff—Frost Glacier Freeze—and the red stuff—Fruit Punch. I bought $80 of the of it, which combined with my existing stock, I have enough Gatorade powder to make 84 gallons of the stuff, or enough to fill 448 24oz bottles.

At $2.25 a bottle the last time I bought it mid-ride, that’s a savings of over $950.

Highlander

On the way to the Highlander last weekend with my ride partner Bikerjohn, we were talking about how we’d approach the course given the weather forecast. Neither of us really wanted to spend the entire day riding in the thunderstorms.

It occurred to me that we were talking about making our own 35-mile or so cut of the 70-mile cut of the Corkscrew Century. Why bother with that when there’s also a 40-mile figure-eight route called the Yodeler?

Getting sprinkled on during the ride to the start at Bristol Mountain Ski Resort, I pitched the idea. John though it was worth considering. Picking up our numbers, we checked out the maps, and decided that yes, the Yodeler it would be.

Outside, I swooned just a bit as a guy with shoulder-length hair rolled up on a bike with full fenders, dyno hub, Schmidt Edelux headlight and Arkel Tailrider trunk bag. Good-looking and on a rig equipped the same as Mr. Portland.

I had to let all lascivious thoughts go, given the mixed company and John and I set off to start our ride.

I immediately liked the Yodeler. The first four miles were flat to maybe a minus half-percent, and with our backs to the wind. It was a great warm-up to work the morning kinks out before the road pitched up at Bristol Center. The first rest stop in Cheshire came much too early, but we stopped anyway.

Since John and I ride at different paces, our plan generally is that I’ll wait up for him at the rest stops. Since the ride was going to be so short, I also waited at the top of significant climbs. It worked out nicely, I think. But he still saw a lot of my taillight.

The overcast was heavy enough that the Schmidt’s ambient light sensor kept the lights running. It also made it easy to recognize other dyno-equipped riders. It felt like a club within the larger ride.

From Cheshire, the route dropped down to Canandaigua Lake. I kept the speed reined in due to the heavy crosswinds. The max on the descent was 40.7 mph. I was grateful for the fresh brake pads that I’d bedded them in the night before.

Suddenly, I began to recognize things form way back in the spring of 2008 when Hndlebar took me out for hill training before I went out west to the Rocky Mountains. Here was Miller’s Hill, which I remembered had a false summit. Rounding a bend it begins the second half of its rise high above the lake.

Mr. Portland had been climbing well enough. I’ve gotten spoiled by the light wheels on both Jeeves and Blue Steel. But remembering that, back when I was much less of a climber, it had taken me up Mt. Evans and up to Rocky Mountain National Park, I settled in.

Earlier it had bothered me that a couple of guys on carbon wonderbikes were passing us on the climbs, but those earlier climbs were easier than Miller’s, and I wasn’t really working them either. As the road pitched up on Miller’s, Mr. Portland and I passed a dozen or so carbon wonderbikes.

Handily.

Into the wind.

Running the lights on the dyno hub.

With fenders, luggage rack and trunk bag.

Shortly after, we came across longhaired guy with a dyno hub again, (apparently on the Quads Hilla route) and again I swooned as he checked out Mr. Portland, and—I was hoping—me too.

Next thing you know, we were back on 21 heading south when the skies opened. Two hours earlier than forecast.

The high headwinds whipped the huge drops right into my face and they stung. There was so much rain that soon the runoff from the rain got between the helmet vents to my head was running down my face and into my eyes—behind my glasses.

It hadn’t occurred to me to wash my helmet pads before the ride. Mom Nature did it for me, rinsing a summer’s worth of salt into my eyes. That stung too.

We soldiered on, across the top of Bopple Hill Road where the Quads Hill riders were torturing themselves on its 23% grade.

Talking about yesterday’s thunderstorms, Rochesterian Crankyolddude, who I know from Bike Journal’s Commuter Cycling Century and BikeForum.Net’s 50+ Forum, perfectly described what happed next for me on Saturday’s ride.

After battling through two miles of wind-driven walls of water I was absolutely thrilled to finally emerge into a nice downpour!

Yep. That sums it up.

By my arrival in Bristol Springs, all the salt had been rinsed from my helmet pads, my shoes were full of water, and I was glad John and I had agreed to return to the start, rather than to continue on to the second loop of the figure-eight.

And it stopped raining.

I ended the day with 28 miles of an intended 40-miler (down from the 70-mile cut of a century) under my wheels, and was completely satisfied with the ride.

Later while we were inside the ski lodge having our post-ride meal, the skies opened again, which rinsed all the grime off Mr. Portland. When ewe arrived home, even the underside of the fenders were clean. I was delighted that I wouldn’t have to get wet again to wash the bike.

August rides

August was a perfect month for summer cycling. I had to use the A/C at home for only four days in the month. Warm sunny days and cool nights meant that every workday fell into a routine of the 16¼-mile long loop to work, followed by a 7-mile cut of the hills, parks, cemetery and trails route home, where I used Genesee St and crossed the river at Brooks Landing to cut out the flat trails bit.

So I got LSD (long steady distance) and some hill work in every day. Twenty-two miles every workday made it easy to hit my mileage goal for the month.

In September, I’m going to have to work for it given I lost 40 miles last weekend and I’m taking this weekend off. Plus, I took a day off on Monday intending to recover from the Highlander, and there was Labor Day a week ago.

Still, I have a nice cushion built up, so even if I don’t make the monthly goal, I’ll still be ahead on the year-to-date.

Eat my shorts

I’ve long had a characteristic wear spot in my cycling shorts. Earlier in the summer, I discovered how it was happening. I still have boyishly narrow hips, and certainly not a wide stance. So the saddles that fit my ass are the classic ass-hatchet types with the narrow nose.

Blue has a fairly steep 74° seat tube. Coupled with my long femurs, the saddle is set back on the seatpost with the clamp all the way to the front of the rails. Turns out, the inside of my left leg rubs on the seatpost clamp,. So Blue eats my shorts.

The fix is simple, just replace the seatpost with a setback model. But simpler still is just to ride a different bike. So Blue has very few miles this year.

Recently it hit me that another solution, is to just wear old shorts that already have the wear spot on the inside left leg. So that’s what I’ve done lately. It’s nice to have Blue back in rotation.

Maybe Santa will bring a nice setback Thomson Elite (in black).

In cycling, there are many things you can do wrong, but there’s one thing that stands out as a cardinal sin.

You should never work on your bike the night before a big ride.

There’s too much that can go wrong. Without adequate testing, you could find yourself out in the middle of who-knows-where with a breakdown.

On the eve of the Highlander, I’ve committed the cardinal sin.

Last weekend before my last hill training ride in preparation for the event, I went over Jeeves with a fine-toothed comb, when I swapped its drivetrain from our everyday 53/39 standard crankset with a 12-23 cassette, to my Highlander-only 50/34 compact crankset and 12-27 cassette.

Then I went on the training ride, and we got in a commute during the week this week. Everything was hunky-dory.

Then Mom Nature threw us a curve. The forecast for Naples, NY tomorrow is upper 60s, overcast, gusty winds from the south, and a 40% chance of thunderstorms at 7am, increasing during the day.

Weather Underground’s forecast is even more pessimistic.

I ran the options through my head. I could put on the Crud Roadracer fenders instead of my quick-release Bontrager Satellite rear fender. Jeeves already wears Kool-Stop salmon brake pads for the wet, but I’d need more batteries for lights, and it would be nice to be able to carry a change of clothes, and a second spare tube.

I slept on it. During my nap I dreamed of waterproofing bike bags and equipment. And I reached a decision. When I awoke, I took Mr. Portland down off its hook.

Rather than mess around with adding stuff to Jeeves, Mr. Portland already has full fenders (with a mudflap in the front). Its triple will help over the hills—even with the Portland’s greater weight it shouldn’t be a problem after swapping its 12-23 cassette for its 12-27. The way its disc brakes work in the wet is the entire reason I bought the darned thing in the first place. And the dynamo hub keeps the lights running for as long as the bike is in motion.

But, I’ve been deferring some maintenance. Its chain was borderline. I’d been planning to replace the front brake pads before winter, but an all-day rainy ride in the hills made me want new ones right away. So dodged 5 o’clock traffic and walked across the street and got some new brake pads. Chains I had in stock.

Mr. Portland now has new front brake pads, and the brake caliper was re-aligned. The master link on the new chain gave me a bit of a problem at first, but it came around in the end. The 12-27 cassette is installed, and I adjusted the rear shifting.

I removed its seat bag and put on the Tailraider trunk bag. I stocked it with two spare tubes, and some dry clothes. My DiNotte 300R taillight is seatpost-mounted, and the Tailrider blocks it, so I dug out my old DiNotte 140R and mounted that to the rack to supplement the B&M dynamo taillight. I added a DiNotte 200L blinkie on the the front, to supplement the Schmidt Edelux headlight.

On the test ride, I just did the parking lots next door and around back. The rear shifting needed some more fine-tuning, and I got enough stops in that the rotor started to ping, (it’s a little out-of-true). But the pads are seated. They stopped chuddering, and with each stop after that, they bite a little better, and modulate a little more smoothly.

We got back inside just moments before the first crack of thunder.

We’ll see you at the start, at 7am. Rule #9 will be in effect: “If you are out riding in bad weather, it means you are a badass. Period.”

In the winter, the snowplow guys hope for snow. Snow brings money.

In the summer, I hope for highs over 90°F (32°C). Heat brings money.

When it’s over 85°F, the city opens specific fire hydrants and extends hours at city swimming pools. This is in addition to the eight city spray parks that are open daily from Memorial Day to Labor Day.

When it gets hotter, 90 or above as forecast by the National Weather Service, four of the neighborhood branch libraries—mine included—stay open for extended hours in the evening. Cool Sweep even has its own web page and logo.

With the state of the city budget, Cool Sweep is about the only way I can get extra hours any more. So my favorite forecast has become Sunny with a chance of Cool Sweep.

Heading into the what’s usually the hottest week of the summer, there’s a chance of Cool Sweep on Monday and Tuesday, (they’re calling for 98°F, 37°C on Tuesday) but I had one on Friday, and I have to share them with a co-worker, so I won’t get both this week.

The three Cool Sweeps I’ve worked so far have been on days when I don’t ordinarily work. I’ve had three grueling five-day workweeks in a row since I returned from vacation. Heading in to start work at 5pm, I’m cycling the hottest part of the day. Paying my phone and internet bill the other day, the clerk cautioned me to take the shortest and coolest route. Trouble is, they’re not the same.

The shortest route is 4½ miles of city streets including 47 stop signs and stoplights in the 9-mile round trip. Little of it is shaded and stopping for those signs and lights means no cooling breeze while I’m stopped, then the effort of starting up again.

Instead, I’ve really been enjoying my hills, parks, cemetery and trails route. It uses a bunch of shady residential streets to connect two city parks (Cobb’s Hill and Highland) cuts through the cool dampness of Mt Hope Cemetery, the University of Rochester campus, and Genesee Valley Park, then takes a wooded section of the Erie Canalway to the city’s west side. From there I double back a bit under the tall shade trees of Arnett Blvd.

I first mapped out this route for the challenges of the hills. It’s become my favorite route to work, and I use a variation—skipping the Canalway and Genesee Valley Park—for my ride home. At least until early September when sunset closes the cemetery before my commute.

You may recall I got locked in to the cemetery once a couple of years back—something I’d rather not repeat. It’s not a creepy thing that makes me want to avoid the experience, but the practical matter of hoisting the bike over the spikes of the nine-foot-tall iron fence, dropping it over the other side without damaging it, then scrambling over after it.

In any event, I’m using the hills parks, etc. route more than ever this year, and as a result, it’s actually getting easy. Easy enough that it’s no problem at all when the temperature is over 90 and the air as thick as pudding. Easy enough that when it’s over 90 and the air is thick as pudding that it’s preferable to the shorter flatter but sunnier route.

My schedule is such that ordinarily my commuting is done at off hours. Each ride to Cool Sweep has been a bit of a treat. I see a lot more commuters, although they’re generally on their way home. Even so, it gives me the sense that there are a lot more bicycle commuters around than I thought.

One guy I rode alongside on Friday, John from the UR, also bike commutes in winter, although so far, only when he feels safe with his three-season tires. We rode along in the 90° heat discussing the pros and cons of studded snow tires. Weird.

It’s official

Jeeves has overtaken the Portland in the favorite ride department. So far this year, with a good head start through the winter, I’ve racked up 25% of my miles on the Portland. Sounds about right, doesn’t it? Four bikes in the stable, and a quarter of the miles on the Portland? Well Jeeves, however, has 40% of the miles.

Part of this is due to routing. I don’t ordinarily take the long loop to work when the Portland is laden with panniers, nor do use the long loop when it’s raining. Plus, the Portland splits toting duties with YellowBike, while Blue is stuck on its hook until I get it a new seatpost. (I found that what was ruining my shorts was that my leg was rubbing on Blue’s seatpost clamp.)

Even so, I’ve figured out I can use the panniers only once a week which leaves three days to commute with Jeeves. Add in that, provided I don’t need panniers, it’s the perfect stealth bike for running errands in the city—the dull unpainted finish turns no heads—and that it’s my preferred ride for longer weekend outings, well, I get the feeling that by the end of the year, Jeeves will have over 50% of the miles.

The big thing is that it’s got that rare combination of all-day comfort, classic stage-racer geometry, and it spins up more easily than any of my other bikes. It’s both fast and quick, both stable and nimble, and it fits like a custom build. I love the way road shock dissipates through the titanium frame, yet road feel is right there. It’s not damped out or dull feeling.

On the road it becomes, not an extension of my body, but an extension of my mind. I’m seldom aware the bike is even there, and I never have to think about it at all. It just does what it needs to do.

I do like it’s new narrower bars and the 7800 series Dura-Ace levers. It’s not that the levers shift any better, but they have a crisper, lighter action that feels just right. That action is a little louder than all my other levers, but I’m getting over it.