Rain delay
I’m on vacation this week. I’d been looking forward to lots of riding. Today I rode the couch. I generally don’t mind riding in the rain, and sometimes I downright enjoy it. But with three inches down and more on the way, they’re closing streets due to flooding, and the roof has started leaking in my living room, right over where I park the bike.
And I really wanted to try out my new tires in the wet.
I had to get new tires last week. When I was washing the bike on Tuesday, I found a bulge in the rear tire. The tread shifted left and right across the bulge. Not good. Then I spied the beginnings of the same thing in the front tire. On Wednesday there was a thump-thump-thump through the frame as I rode.
I stopped at Towner’s on the way home and looked at new tires. Then I came home to check finances. It would be tight until payday this week, but doable.
I went back first-thing Thursday morning and the owner was there. The looked at the tires and said something much more polite than “Holy shit!” He followed up with, “What was the date when you bought your bike?”
“March 29,” I replied. “Just over 90 days, or a few days beyond the duration of the warranty.”
“We’ll take it up with Giant. Meanwhile, we have to get new tires on that bike.”
I explained that I’d been by the night before and looked at several. I didn’t want the same brand as had come on the bike. I’d looked them up on the Internet and confirmed that they were really cheesy and cost the same amount as the heavy-duty tubes I recently purchased.
I also wanted to change the size. The bike came with 700×38/40. In hope of reduced rolling resistance (read: increased speed) I wanted to go to 700×32. Still wide by road bike standards (where 23mm width is the most common), but about as narrow as I’m comfortable going to, given the street conditions where I ride and the weight of the bike.
I chose a set of Specialized Infinity Flak-Jacket kevlar belted tires. I’d wanted to go the next step up to the double-belted Specialized Armadillos, but there’s this nasty thing called my budget. The owner confirmed that the Flak-Jackets would be fine, especially since I wanted to also keep my Mr. Tuffy tire liners and heavy-duty tubes.
Ten minutes after wheeling my bike into the back, the new tires were mounted and I went to pay the bill.
“How’s $10.80 sound?”
“Uh, what?”
“Five dollars each for the mounting and sales tax,” he replied.
“But what about the tires?”
“I’ll deal with the Giant rep on that. Those tires should not have failed like that at all, let alone in three months and less than a thousand miles.”
“If you’re sure, then okay,” I replied forking over a ten and a single.
“You’re a good customer and we want to keep it that way,” he said, ringing up the sale.
Yow! For those of you keeping score, that was two $25 tires for free, to replace two sub $10 ones. I’m more than pleased with the service, and very pleased with the new tires.
Tuesday night’s ride
I felt out-of-sorts all day Tuesday. Nothing specific, I just wasn’t feeling myself. I was itchin’ to ride all day, but afraid it would be a disappointing experience since I was feeling out-of-sorts.
It was a beatiful day too. 75°, clear, not too humid and a very light breeze from the northeast. Finally, after evening rush was over, I couldn’t take it any more. I geared up, and hit the road.
Cruising towards downtown, I decided I’d just do ten miles, out to Genesee Valley Park and back. I got on the Riverway on the west side, and immediately ran into a pack of roadies in full regalia at the ice cream shop on the wharf. Two dozen of them, just standing around completely blocking the path.
I rang my bell, and they just stood there looking at me. I braked and said, “Excuse me, I’d like to ride through.” Only then did two of them move, just enough to let me pass. Cyclists are always complaining about pedestrians blocking the path, and here, that’s exactly what they were doing. Sheesh.
Further along, the path veers off into the woods along the flood plain. This is one of my favorite parts of the ride. The trees close in over the path and it’s like riding in a tunnel. You’d never know you were in the city, let alone riding through the ‘hood.
I rounded a bend and saw a family walking a hundred yards ahead of me, in the same direction. I rang my bell. They immediately cleared the left lane so I could pass. I slowed down long enough to say say “Thank you”. As I passed the dad said, “Did you hear that bell? It sounded like a crystal champagne glass!”
I love my brass Incredibell! I’m so glad I sprung for the more expensive brass one rather than the black painted one that would match my handlebars.
By this time, everything was working—the bike, my body, my head. Everything was in tune and I found I was cranking along at a pretty good clip and feeling happy.
I blew past the park and headed west out the Canalway. I pounded the rollers, the underpasses and the railroad overpass. And, traffic was light. I passed only one other cyclist. And those coming towards me all returned my waves and greetings.
I stopped at Long Pond Road, where the pavement ends, and downed a bottle and a half of water. Less than ten minutes later, I mounted up for the return, again, hammering all the hills.
The park came and went again. I continued east on the Canalway. Tired of hammering, I settled in for some LSD, (Long Steady Distance) and just cruised along. One roadie passed me. He did not return my greeting. Fuckin’ roadies.
I stoped at the Winton Road exit to attach my lights and change from my sunglasses, then rode Winton north to Hillside, cut through Cobbs Hill Park (slowing only to gape at a beautiful blond baseball player) and came back on Park. I’d put in only 26 miles at the corner. Too little for a victory lap, so I went east on University to East Blve and came back on East Ave. Then the victory lap, which still had to be extended so I could make 30 miles.
I didn’t want to stop, but I didn’t feel like tooling around the neighborhood after dark, so I called it a day at 30.11 miles, with my highest average speed to date, exactly 15.0 mph. Maybe I should have called it Long Slow Distance, considering how the latter half of the ride had pulled down the speed.
There’s always another day. Just not today.
July 14th, 2006 at 6:29 am EDT
Hello tsl, nice ride you had. I used to own a Giant Cypress DX til last week when someone nicked it. A Towner’s clerk told me two months earlier that my Kryptonite circular key U-lock was safe. It wasn’t and I no longer shop at Towner’s.
I’m going to meet a couple three other Rochester cyclist at the Natural Oasis restaurant/shop on Monroe Ave. near Oxford on Saturday. If you want to come along and join us, that would be nice (rain or shine.) We’ll be there at noon. Watch for a grey Trek with a U frame and a large shopper basket in front.