(no subject)
So. The first bike trip was a success, in that both of us went and we both came back, riding the bikes both ways. There were some lessons learned, of course.
Lesson 1: Don't do this again in July in Florida. Probably November-April would be better. We both put on sunscreen just before we headed out but we forgot to re-apply as the day wore on. B and I expected to be pedaling between 3 and 4 hours; what we didn't count on were the delays caused by mechanical faults that had us on the road and in the sun for closer to 7 hours. Hence:
Lesson 2: Any part can fail. The boy was riding a heavy and poorly assembled Walmart-level MTB that seems too small for him from my point of view, but he seems comfortable enough. I was riding my shiny new Winsor Tourist, of the 'built to haul gear' variety. Guess whose bicycle failed the most? Mine. We had swapped out the badly chewed brake pads on his bike for much less worn ones off the bike's dusty twin sister, and once that was taken care of his bike ran fine.
My front tire sprang a leak halfway past Patrick AFB; the one stretch on our route with no services to speak of. Riding under-inflated is bad enough, riding on a near flat is effing miserable. I nearly had to ditch it several times and ran into the grass repeatedly. I rode on that for about three miles between noticing the failure and the bike shop, with a stop off at a surf shop for directions at the south end of Cocoa Beach. I wasn't carrying a toolkit, patches, or even a frame pump. This last sounds especially stupid, but when we got the bike to the bike shop and the mechanic tried inflating the tire to spot the leak, it blew with a bang. He said it wasn't nearly up to pressure when it blew, and it was likely a split seam and therefore a manufacturing defect. Boo, but at least that means my tire is still in good shape. The initial tire repair was quick and inexpensive, but it lead to at least one other problem.
While he was manhandling my bike's front end, he must have put serious pressure on my center pulley and knocked it off kilter. So I rode for the next 3 miles or so with one brake rubbing and practically gripping my front wheel. Looking back on it, I'm not sure how he did it without tools, because I wasn't able to fix it until I got ahold of a 2.5mm hex key.
At the stop I loosened my front brake cable as a quickfix to keep pedaling, I finally noticed that the screw on the left side of my rack was just plain gone, and that dragging I'd been feeling on the back wheel was my frigging rack dragging against my rear hub. The big problem with this is that I was carrying ALL of our gear. My own fault, really. B had originally been willing to wear a backpack to carry at least his own clothes and stuff, but I know what a PITA backpacks can be on bikes, especially on hot days. Also, I may have a bit of a martyr complex, because I had a lot of fun giving him grief for doing none of the hauling. I didn't mean it, of course, except on the way up the bridges where I was really wishing I'd had some of the weight up front.
Anyway. B's sharp eyes spotted an Ace hardware where we had a lot of fun trying to find a screw/bolt that would hold the stupid rack in place and the aforementioned tiny hex key that would let me fix my brakes. We made it the rest of the way without incident. So:
Lesson 3: Bring tire tools and a spare tube, a pump, and a handful of zipties. NEVER leave home without a couple of tiny hex keys, and if anyone else handles your bike, check all pulleys and moving parts before moving on.
And hidden in that previous bit was Lesson 4: Everyone hauls their own gear. If we'd each had racks and bags we could have included things like, say, sleeping pads. Tents we had, and clothes, but that was pretty much it. The campsite at Jetty park is nice really, and we had fun zipping around on our bikes once we'd rested a bit and set up the tents. B's tent turned out to be much bigger than he expected. I'd figured it was bigger than a two-person model but there wasn't much we could do about it. Better that we each had our own space considering how damned uncomfortable the place was. I was awake almost all night due to the hard ground, various rocks which I'd neglected to pick up before I staked out the tent, and due to the pain of sunburn. All in all a miserable night and I was up bright and early, having given up on sleep altogether about half an hour before sunrise. B had been talking in his sleep off and on all night, which he usually does.
Still, the sunrise was worth it, and we got a crazy early start on the way home hoping to beat the worst of the sun. We managed it for a while, but it was a beautiful sunny day and it just got hotter and brighter. Even so, we made it home before 1pm and didn't even collapse from exhaustion when we did. B seemed genuinely afraid of heat exhaustion, and I can't really blame him for that fear, but people who don't do much physical exertion in the heat just don't know how far they can go until they have to. I think he wanted to call for help by the time we got back over the causeway and into Melbourne proper. I pushed him a bit, saying we'd come so far on our own, we couldn't give up just as we got so close to home. In the end I was proud of him. He opted for the one last push up the final hill rather than taking the slower but slightly easier path along US-1. We were both glad for that decision as home came into sight. At that point in the day every five minutes outside counts.
There was one casualty on this trip. My little cyclocomputer, veteran of more than 350 miles with me was needlessly hurled into traffic and crushed to death by a car on Saturday, August 1st. It is survived by its mount, cable, magnet and sensor and will be sorely missed by all. The whole thing was ridiculous really. I had my thumb on the thing, trying to rotate it on my handlebars so the sun wouldn't glare on it and -flip!- my thumb slips and the computer actually hopped off the bike and under the wheels of the car next to me. I was even on the sidewalk at the time. -.-; I laughed, because that's exactly the sort of thing that happens. Still, I missed it almost immediately, having grown accustomed to knowing my current speed and mileage. Ah well, it was a cheapo Bell computer and it served well. I'll probably get one just like it when I feel like riding again.
So yeah, 4 parts excellent trip, 2 parts hassle, 1 part pain. Will definitely do it again, but better equipped and better prepared and better planning of time of year. Probably a higher SPF too. I can't keep forgetting I'm Nordic or I'll really regret it someday.
And on to today's unrelated note:
Lesson 1: Don't do this again in July in Florida. Probably November-April would be better. We both put on sunscreen just before we headed out but we forgot to re-apply as the day wore on. B and I expected to be pedaling between 3 and 4 hours; what we didn't count on were the delays caused by mechanical faults that had us on the road and in the sun for closer to 7 hours. Hence:
Lesson 2: Any part can fail. The boy was riding a heavy and poorly assembled Walmart-level MTB that seems too small for him from my point of view, but he seems comfortable enough. I was riding my shiny new Winsor Tourist, of the 'built to haul gear' variety. Guess whose bicycle failed the most? Mine. We had swapped out the badly chewed brake pads on his bike for much less worn ones off the bike's dusty twin sister, and once that was taken care of his bike ran fine.
My front tire sprang a leak halfway past Patrick AFB; the one stretch on our route with no services to speak of. Riding under-inflated is bad enough, riding on a near flat is effing miserable. I nearly had to ditch it several times and ran into the grass repeatedly. I rode on that for about three miles between noticing the failure and the bike shop, with a stop off at a surf shop for directions at the south end of Cocoa Beach. I wasn't carrying a toolkit, patches, or even a frame pump. This last sounds especially stupid, but when we got the bike to the bike shop and the mechanic tried inflating the tire to spot the leak, it blew with a bang. He said it wasn't nearly up to pressure when it blew, and it was likely a split seam and therefore a manufacturing defect. Boo, but at least that means my tire is still in good shape. The initial tire repair was quick and inexpensive, but it lead to at least one other problem.
While he was manhandling my bike's front end, he must have put serious pressure on my center pulley and knocked it off kilter. So I rode for the next 3 miles or so with one brake rubbing and practically gripping my front wheel. Looking back on it, I'm not sure how he did it without tools, because I wasn't able to fix it until I got ahold of a 2.5mm hex key.
At the stop I loosened my front brake cable as a quickfix to keep pedaling, I finally noticed that the screw on the left side of my rack was just plain gone, and that dragging I'd been feeling on the back wheel was my frigging rack dragging against my rear hub. The big problem with this is that I was carrying ALL of our gear. My own fault, really. B had originally been willing to wear a backpack to carry at least his own clothes and stuff, but I know what a PITA backpacks can be on bikes, especially on hot days. Also, I may have a bit of a martyr complex, because I had a lot of fun giving him grief for doing none of the hauling. I didn't mean it, of course, except on the way up the bridges where I was really wishing I'd had some of the weight up front.
Anyway. B's sharp eyes spotted an Ace hardware where we had a lot of fun trying to find a screw/bolt that would hold the stupid rack in place and the aforementioned tiny hex key that would let me fix my brakes. We made it the rest of the way without incident. So:
Lesson 3: Bring tire tools and a spare tube, a pump, and a handful of zipties. NEVER leave home without a couple of tiny hex keys, and if anyone else handles your bike, check all pulleys and moving parts before moving on.
And hidden in that previous bit was Lesson 4: Everyone hauls their own gear. If we'd each had racks and bags we could have included things like, say, sleeping pads. Tents we had, and clothes, but that was pretty much it. The campsite at Jetty park is nice really, and we had fun zipping around on our bikes once we'd rested a bit and set up the tents. B's tent turned out to be much bigger than he expected. I'd figured it was bigger than a two-person model but there wasn't much we could do about it. Better that we each had our own space considering how damned uncomfortable the place was. I was awake almost all night due to the hard ground, various rocks which I'd neglected to pick up before I staked out the tent, and due to the pain of sunburn. All in all a miserable night and I was up bright and early, having given up on sleep altogether about half an hour before sunrise. B had been talking in his sleep off and on all night, which he usually does.
Still, the sunrise was worth it, and we got a crazy early start on the way home hoping to beat the worst of the sun. We managed it for a while, but it was a beautiful sunny day and it just got hotter and brighter. Even so, we made it home before 1pm and didn't even collapse from exhaustion when we did. B seemed genuinely afraid of heat exhaustion, and I can't really blame him for that fear, but people who don't do much physical exertion in the heat just don't know how far they can go until they have to. I think he wanted to call for help by the time we got back over the causeway and into Melbourne proper. I pushed him a bit, saying we'd come so far on our own, we couldn't give up just as we got so close to home. In the end I was proud of him. He opted for the one last push up the final hill rather than taking the slower but slightly easier path along US-1. We were both glad for that decision as home came into sight. At that point in the day every five minutes outside counts.
There was one casualty on this trip. My little cyclocomputer, veteran of more than 350 miles with me was needlessly hurled into traffic and crushed to death by a car on Saturday, August 1st. It is survived by its mount, cable, magnet and sensor and will be sorely missed by all. The whole thing was ridiculous really. I had my thumb on the thing, trying to rotate it on my handlebars so the sun wouldn't glare on it and -flip!- my thumb slips and the computer actually hopped off the bike and under the wheels of the car next to me. I was even on the sidewalk at the time. -.-; I laughed, because that's exactly the sort of thing that happens. Still, I missed it almost immediately, having grown accustomed to knowing my current speed and mileage. Ah well, it was a cheapo Bell computer and it served well. I'll probably get one just like it when I feel like riding again.
So yeah, 4 parts excellent trip, 2 parts hassle, 1 part pain. Will definitely do it again, but better equipped and better prepared and better planning of time of year. Probably a higher SPF too. I can't keep forgetting I'm Nordic or I'll really regret it someday.
And on to today's unrelated note: