To clarify: My boss is actually a wo-man, and she didn't ask me to work this weekend, but I discovered a gift from the FUBAR Fairy yesterday that was entirely my fault (and needs to be fixed by Monday), so I am (metaphorically speaking) on the clock for The Man right now.
"But Jason," I can hear you asking, "how are you blogging when you're doing time for The Man? Because you are such a fine, upstanding corporate citizen, you can't possibly be working on your blog using The Man's computer and bandwidth." Glad you asked. See, I am such a gifted nerd, I am working in DLM: Dual Laptop Mode, company computer to my right, personal computer to my left.
I can't really reveal what sort of top secret stuff I do for The Man, but the repair of this particular FUBAR Fairy visit is akin to going down the hatch from time to time and pushing the button so the island won't blow up. (Heartfelt thanks to my wife for that astonishingly geeky yet apt Lost analogy.) Between button-pushings today, I'll be blogging merrily away on the eeePC, with the occasional break to hunt boar or avoid polar bears.
Of course, temps are headed for the 40s today, and while I had no intention of riding with local nutjobs Steve F. and Tom A. on their first Cup o'Dirt century ride of the year (sorry, guys), I was at least hoping to start the pre-Spring cleaning on the Gordon and get the shiny new Wald fenders installed. Ah well. Rumor has it we'll see the 50s next weekend.
Oops, time to get back down the hatch and press the button...
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Bike Thoughts From The Car Lot
As I hinted a couple posts ago, Carla and I have been in the market for a four-wheeled vehicle lately -- because when the economy's in the can and your job could disappear at any moment, it's the perfect time to take on some debt!
Car shopping has given me some unexpected insight into the current state of the bicycle business, however. When it comes to cars, I am an absolute disgrace to my gender. I can stand over an open hood, make vaguely appropriate grunts about cams and plugs and turn signal fluid (all while scratching in appropriately manly ways), but it's an act. Since outgrowing my car freak phase (circa 1986-1992), I've found the minutiae of internal combustion excruciatingly boring. I'm no shrill "two wheels good, four wheels bad" super-activist. I just don't care. The car's a tool. I don't get emotionally attached to my hammer, either -- unless rage counts as emotional attachment when the stupid thing can't tell nail from thumbnail.
The bike is another story. Man, do I like the guts of bicycles. Some days, I like taking them apart and putting them back together more than I like riding them. When I get a hub bearing adjusted with just the right amount of play so that the quick-release lever draws it up perfectly -- no lateral clunk, and a seemingly infinite spin -- I swear I can hear angels sing.
I also have more than a hint of Luddite/retro leanings when it comes to bikes. I don't wear the Grant Petersen hairshirt (knitted from the handspun wool of only the most rugged Scottish sheep, of course), but I like parts that I can understand. Shifters that visibly yank on cables rather than hiding them under cams and springs and ratcheting things. Brakes that pull cables (again with the cables!) to squash pads against rims instead of forcing hydraulic fluid to pinch rotors. Chains that a reasonably coordinated monkey can assemble with just a chain tool. Wheels that can be drawn back into rideable roundness if one spoke cuts loose. And suspension that comes from squishy tires rather than coil springs and linkages and damping valves. On my bike, I want to know how it all works, and I want to be able to field-strip it blindfolded like a Marine with his rifle.
As a car shopper, however, I'm the exact opposite of my biker self. I can (and do) nod along when the salesperson tells me about how the engine design lowers the center of gravity for improved handling, but in my head, I'm thinking, "Wow, the blue one looks really cool." I don't care how it works. I have no chance of fixing it if it breaks. I have no delusions that I know more about it than the people who designed and built it. Hell, after being away from a manual transmission for ten years, I'm pretty sure the computer chip buried in the dashboard knows when to shift better than I do. When I get into my car, I just want to turn a key, hear a vroom, and have the whole thing move when I push the long, rectangular pedal on the right. In short, I'm a lot like the average bike shopper.
My time in the car lot makes me wonder if bikers like me aren't doing a disservice to that average bike shopper when we try to give advice. The average bike shopper probably doesn't care whether the shifter has a friction option. He's probably glazing over when I tell him that replacing the 52-tooth big chainring with a 48 will eliminate duplicates on the gear chart. And when I start railing against that suspension seatpost with the cushy sprung saddle on top, I've lost him completely.
He probably thinks the blue one is cool, and he just wants to have the thing move when he pushes down on the pedals. Who am I to say that's wrong?
Car shopping has given me some unexpected insight into the current state of the bicycle business, however. When it comes to cars, I am an absolute disgrace to my gender. I can stand over an open hood, make vaguely appropriate grunts about cams and plugs and turn signal fluid (all while scratching in appropriately manly ways), but it's an act. Since outgrowing my car freak phase (circa 1986-1992), I've found the minutiae of internal combustion excruciatingly boring. I'm no shrill "two wheels good, four wheels bad" super-activist. I just don't care. The car's a tool. I don't get emotionally attached to my hammer, either -- unless rage counts as emotional attachment when the stupid thing can't tell nail from thumbnail.
The bike is another story. Man, do I like the guts of bicycles. Some days, I like taking them apart and putting them back together more than I like riding them. When I get a hub bearing adjusted with just the right amount of play so that the quick-release lever draws it up perfectly -- no lateral clunk, and a seemingly infinite spin -- I swear I can hear angels sing.
I also have more than a hint of Luddite/retro leanings when it comes to bikes. I don't wear the Grant Petersen hairshirt (knitted from the handspun wool of only the most rugged Scottish sheep, of course), but I like parts that I can understand. Shifters that visibly yank on cables rather than hiding them under cams and springs and ratcheting things. Brakes that pull cables (again with the cables!) to squash pads against rims instead of forcing hydraulic fluid to pinch rotors. Chains that a reasonably coordinated monkey can assemble with just a chain tool. Wheels that can be drawn back into rideable roundness if one spoke cuts loose. And suspension that comes from squishy tires rather than coil springs and linkages and damping valves. On my bike, I want to know how it all works, and I want to be able to field-strip it blindfolded like a Marine with his rifle.
As a car shopper, however, I'm the exact opposite of my biker self. I can (and do) nod along when the salesperson tells me about how the engine design lowers the center of gravity for improved handling, but in my head, I'm thinking, "Wow, the blue one looks really cool." I don't care how it works. I have no chance of fixing it if it breaks. I have no delusions that I know more about it than the people who designed and built it. Hell, after being away from a manual transmission for ten years, I'm pretty sure the computer chip buried in the dashboard knows when to shift better than I do. When I get into my car, I just want to turn a key, hear a vroom, and have the whole thing move when I push the long, rectangular pedal on the right. In short, I'm a lot like the average bike shopper.
My time in the car lot makes me wonder if bikers like me aren't doing a disservice to that average bike shopper when we try to give advice. The average bike shopper probably doesn't care whether the shifter has a friction option. He's probably glazing over when I tell him that replacing the 52-tooth big chainring with a 48 will eliminate duplicates on the gear chart. And when I start railing against that suspension seatpost with the cushy sprung saddle on top, I've lost him completely.
He probably thinks the blue one is cool, and he just wants to have the thing move when he pushes down on the pedals. Who am I to say that's wrong?
Gimmie A Brake!
Another public service announcement: If you are riding a fixed gear without some kind of brake other than your ability to backpedal, I beg of you, please put a brake on that thing. Seriously.
This will get me laughed out of FGBA (Fixed-Gear Badasses of America), but hear me out. My commute has one measly hill on it, just a couple blocks long, but on my winter 38x17 gear, I'm usually spinning like a gerbil on crack coming down that thing in the morning. Since I'm not terribly mindful of my maintenance in the winter, my chain has developed a little bit of slack. This morning, right when I'd hit terminal velocity, I hit a bump, the chain bounced just right, and there was a symphony of drivetrain noise that could only mean one thing: Thrown chain.
With my brake, I just slowed to a stop, put the chain on, and kept going. Without it, I would have been forced to either...
This will get me laughed out of FGBA (Fixed-Gear Badasses of America), but hear me out. My commute has one measly hill on it, just a couple blocks long, but on my winter 38x17 gear, I'm usually spinning like a gerbil on crack coming down that thing in the morning. Since I'm not terribly mindful of my maintenance in the winter, my chain has developed a little bit of slack. This morning, right when I'd hit terminal velocity, I hit a bump, the chain bounced just right, and there was a symphony of drivetrain noise that could only mean one thing: Thrown chain.
With my brake, I just slowed to a stop, put the chain on, and kept going. Without it, I would have been forced to either...
- Jam my shoe into the studded tire, probably ruining both (assuming I could think fast enough to execute this maneuver on ice without crashing, of course),
- Veer off the road into a crusty snowdrift, probably knocking my loose shoulder out of the socket (and definitely getting a chorus of jeers from the kids waiting for the school bus), or
- Keep coasting and hope that my momentum ran out before I got to the next busy intersection.
Monday, January 26, 2009
For The Biker Who Has Everything
Yes, folks, those are bicycle boxers.I like how they're a bright traffic-sign yellow, for that extra touch of visibility when you're riding in just your undies.
I've spared small children and those with sensitive stomachs by NOT modeling them for the photo. Besides, my male underwear modeling services are in such high demand, I can't afford me.
I got 'em at Target, if you just have to have a pair of your own.
(This from the guy who makes fun of Gary Fisher's cycle-fashion choices...)
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Brush With Cycling Fame
All I wanted to do was shop for a car (but more on that later).
I knew something was up when there wasn't a parking place to be found. At a car dealership. In Des Moines, Iowa. On a Saturday morning. During a recession.
Turns out, my wife and I had stumbled into a Media Event. See, world-famous inventor Gary Fisher was in town to give a chat at the Iowa Bicycle Coalition's Bike Night, and his whirlwind tour of Des Moines included an inexplicable press junket at the local Subaru dealership.
Just to review -- for readers who may not be familiar with Fisher's ouvre -- he is the inventor of:
Alas, there was no such excitement. Turns out, it was just Gary talking about his Greatest Hits album (yadda yadda yadda Pioneer of Mountain Biking blah blah blah) to an audience of one cub reporter from the local CBS affiliate, her camera guy, a handful of local fanboys, Gary's posse (the Fish-tourage) clad in Gary gear, and the somewhat confused staff and patrons of the dealership.
Gary was sporting one of those dapper British schoolboy suits that makes him look like he just fell off a penny farthing. Our sales guy explained (perhaps erroneously) that it was something he was paid to wear -- which may be the only way that we Midwesterners can get our minds around someone who voluntarily makes himself look like a tool (or, in keeping with the Britishness of the whole look, a git.) I'm sure he and the Fish-tourage had a direct flight into Des Moines, but in my mind, they had to drive in, enduring sideways "you ain't from around here, are ya?" glances in rural truck stops all across Iowa. The image only gets more delicious when I imagine him forcing the Fish-tourage to wear matching suits. Having cycled in knickers in Iowa, I can tell you that you want to choose your rest stops very carefully, lest you find yourself in a Deliverance re-enactment: "You look real purty in them short pants, boy!"
I almost used my wife's cell phone to grab a picture, but couldn't bring myself to look like one of the fanboys. Plus, how much self-importance can one man be expected to endure? He might have sprained his moustache. Plus, he probably needed to save his energy for the crushing crowd of dozens who would greet him at the local Trekasaurus Rex dealer later in the day. (Warning: That link goes to the Des Moines Register site, which may cause dizziness, numbness, muscle aches, and suicidal thoughts in those who are accustomed to actual journalism.)
I knew something was up when there wasn't a parking place to be found. At a car dealership. In Des Moines, Iowa. On a Saturday morning. During a recession.
Turns out, my wife and I had stumbled into a Media Event. See, world-famous inventor Gary Fisher was in town to give a chat at the Iowa Bicycle Coalition's Bike Night, and his whirlwind tour of Des Moines included an inexplicable press junket at the local Subaru dealership.
Just to review -- for readers who may not be familiar with Fisher's ouvre -- he is the inventor of:
- The mountain bike
- Low-trail geometry
- Swimming
- The soul patch
- The wheel (and subsequently, the pneumatic tire)
- Fire
Alas, there was no such excitement. Turns out, it was just Gary talking about his Greatest Hits album (yadda yadda yadda Pioneer of Mountain Biking blah blah blah) to an audience of one cub reporter from the local CBS affiliate, her camera guy, a handful of local fanboys, Gary's posse (the Fish-tourage) clad in Gary gear, and the somewhat confused staff and patrons of the dealership.
Gary was sporting one of those dapper British schoolboy suits that makes him look like he just fell off a penny farthing. Our sales guy explained (perhaps erroneously) that it was something he was paid to wear -- which may be the only way that we Midwesterners can get our minds around someone who voluntarily makes himself look like a tool (or, in keeping with the Britishness of the whole look, a git.) I'm sure he and the Fish-tourage had a direct flight into Des Moines, but in my mind, they had to drive in, enduring sideways "you ain't from around here, are ya?" glances in rural truck stops all across Iowa. The image only gets more delicious when I imagine him forcing the Fish-tourage to wear matching suits. Having cycled in knickers in Iowa, I can tell you that you want to choose your rest stops very carefully, lest you find yourself in a Deliverance re-enactment: "You look real purty in them short pants, boy!"
I almost used my wife's cell phone to grab a picture, but couldn't bring myself to look like one of the fanboys. Plus, how much self-importance can one man be expected to endure? He might have sprained his moustache. Plus, he probably needed to save his energy for the crushing crowd of dozens who would greet him at the local Trekasaurus Rex dealer later in the day. (Warning: That link goes to the Des Moines Register site, which may cause dizziness, numbness, muscle aches, and suicidal thoughts in those who are accustomed to actual journalism.)
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Shameless Self-Promotion
For those who just can't get enough of my writing (or can't get your doctor to refill that Ambien prescription), I've just launched an online portfolio of my non-bikey (and "serious" -- whatever that means) writing at http://sites.google.com/site/jasonnunemaker.
As websites go, it's not terribly exciting -- just a simple all-text thing I popped up using Google Sites to see if I could. Hopefully, the content makes up for my lack of skill on the interwebs.
At this point, everything on the site comes out of my MFA thesis from THE Ohio State University (they get really haughty about that THE), circa 1998, which probably hasn't budged from its dusty, obscure corner of the THE Ohio State University library since it was shelved a decade ago.
Parallels to the Simpsons episode Krusty Gets Kancelled (where Krusty can't get paid for dropping his pants and singing because, and I quote, "How can I sell it when that guy's givin' it away for free?") have been duly noted. Just watch for my upcoming tour with the Crazy Old Man Singers.
As websites go, it's not terribly exciting -- just a simple all-text thing I popped up using Google Sites to see if I could. Hopefully, the content makes up for my lack of skill on the interwebs.
At this point, everything on the site comes out of my MFA thesis from THE Ohio State University (they get really haughty about that THE), circa 1998, which probably hasn't budged from its dusty, obscure corner of the THE Ohio State University library since it was shelved a decade ago.
Parallels to the Simpsons episode Krusty Gets Kancelled (where Krusty can't get paid for dropping his pants and singing because, and I quote, "How can I sell it when that guy's givin' it away for free?") have been duly noted. Just watch for my upcoming tour with the Crazy Old Man Singers.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I Can Be Bought
Just wanted to give a quick shout-out (do the kids even say "shout-out" any more? good grief, Gramps, get a clue) to framebuilder/painter/restorer Keith Anderson of the coincidentally-named Keith Anderson Cycles in Grants Pass, OR.
Full disclosure: Keith just traded me a couple of his t-shirts and pairs of his wooly bike socks for some old decal sets I'd hoarded from a previous bike shop gig. Frankly, I feel like he got hosed on the deal, but I suppose 10-year old Cannondale stickers may have a rarity factor those of us outside the world of bike restoration might not appreciate.
Lest you think this is strictly a Bicycling review ("We looked at a blurry Polaroid of the '09 Madone advertised on the back cover of our magazine and found it to be the greatest bicycle ever conceived, at least until Specialized buys that extremely expensive ad space."), I've seen Keith's work in person -- he did a stunning repaint and a custom stem for a friend -- and it's jaw-droppingly good. If you're a lug-licking, clearcoat-stroking freak for beautifully crafted and painted bikes, wrap your keyboard in plastic to contain the drool and head over to his site. You won't be disappointed.
Full disclosure: Keith just traded me a couple of his t-shirts and pairs of his wooly bike socks for some old decal sets I'd hoarded from a previous bike shop gig. Frankly, I feel like he got hosed on the deal, but I suppose 10-year old Cannondale stickers may have a rarity factor those of us outside the world of bike restoration might not appreciate.
Lest you think this is strictly a Bicycling review ("We looked at a blurry Polaroid of the '09 Madone advertised on the back cover of our magazine and found it to be the greatest bicycle ever conceived, at least until Specialized buys that extremely expensive ad space."), I've seen Keith's work in person -- he did a stunning repaint and a custom stem for a friend -- and it's jaw-droppingly good. If you're a lug-licking, clearcoat-stroking freak for beautifully crafted and painted bikes, wrap your keyboard in plastic to contain the drool and head over to his site. You won't be disappointed.
The Cycle Goes Mobile
I won't guarantee that it will also be agile, though I'm sure it will occasionally be hostile...
I have done my part to recharge the flagging economy by dropping a couple Benjamins into an Asus eeePC netbook. In fact, yesterday's post was launched into the interwebs from the comfort of my couch via that very machine, and looking at it now from my normal desktop, I'd be hard-pressed to tell the difference. When I read The Cycle from it (because hey, somebody has to read this stuff), it doesn't render in the same font, but I do too much cross-browser compatibility nonsense at work to worry too much about it when I'm slapping up pages for fun in my jammies.
As tech-dude-pal Steve F. warned, the keyboard is disturbingly small under my pudgy fingers, but I've been able to adjust to it after a couple days. I tried the Acer Aspire One that Steve recommended, and it did feel much more "normal" to the touch, but with the local Worst Buy practically giving the eeePCs away, my inner cheapskate beat out my inner user interface nerd.
I'd like to say that this purchase will actually get me out there into the real world, blogging from "the street" (or at least from a place near "the street" with wi-fi), but I suspect it will probably just a) encourage my already raging 'net addiction, and b) keep the interspousal Web-time/computer use squabbles to a minimum here on the home front.
Proving that I am in fact an antique in computer-use terms (my first machine was a Commodore VIC 20... kids, ask your grandparents), this is my very first hands-on experience with wi-fi, and I'm a bit drunk on the power. I have this uncontrollable urge to go hang out anywhere I can get a signal, even though I have no reason to leave the house. Sad.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Unreal
I know, I know, I promised not to complain about the weather, but c'mon!
The high temperature in Des Moines yesterday was -4F. Let me say that again: The HIGH temperature was NEGATIVE FOUR DEGREES FAHRENHEIT.
Our freezer at work has a digital thermometer on it... and it was warmer INSIDE the freezer yesterday than it was outside. That is just not right.
I didn't ride yesterday (duh), but I'm about to try it this morning. Wish me luck!
The high temperature in Des Moines yesterday was -4F. Let me say that again: The HIGH temperature was NEGATIVE FOUR DEGREES FAHRENHEIT.
Our freezer at work has a digital thermometer on it... and it was warmer INSIDE the freezer yesterday than it was outside. That is just not right.
I didn't ride yesterday (duh), but I'm about to try it this morning. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Public Service Announcement: Check Your Batteries
Just a friendly reminder for anyone using battery-powered lights (especially LEDs) to make late-night target practice easier for drivers: If your batteries are rechargeable, charge 'em. If they aren't, think about replacing 'em.
I got a little lazy with my bazillion-LED setup, figuring that with so many lights, who cares if they start to dim? Besides, LEDs will keep cranking out some light, even on weak batteries. So, if I turned on the switch and there was light, lo, it was good.
But something inspired me to slap the whole pile of cells on the charger this weekend, and the result was shocking. I had no idea they'd dimmed that much.
Moral of the story: Top 'em off, and let's be careful out there.
I got a little lazy with my bazillion-LED setup, figuring that with so many lights, who cares if they start to dim? Besides, LEDs will keep cranking out some light, even on weak batteries. So, if I turned on the switch and there was light, lo, it was good.
But something inspired me to slap the whole pile of cells on the charger this weekend, and the result was shocking. I had no idea they'd dimmed that much.
Moral of the story: Top 'em off, and let's be careful out there.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
My Goatee: 1992-2009
Because I've been short on the meaningless, self-indulgent navel-gazing lately...
I am now clean-shaven for the first time since 1992. Finally took a good long look in the mirror and thought, "Who exactly are you kidding? Grunge is over, you're in your late-30s, and you're a cube-jockey for a major financial institution who spends his days taking the specifications from the customers to the engineers."
Out came the clippers, and my quasi-rebellious youth became a pile of hair on the bathroom floor.
The shaved head will remain, although it's gone from "statement" (of what, I do not remember -- laziness?) to "male pattern baldness camouflage" over the last decade.
I will also continue to ride my fixed-gear in knickers from time to time, playing dress-up as a 20-something hipster, fully aware of just how pathetic that is. (Note to my one known British reader, those are 3/4-length pants, not my unmentionables. Man, it's hard to write for an actual English-speaking audience!)
On the not-terribly-bright side, at least I'm now (slightly more) respectable looking. Good thing, in case I need to hit the interview circuit unexpectedly. In my line of work, the corporate "walk of shame" is getting a little too common these days -- where you find a security guard with a cardboard box for your personal belongings waiting at your cube in the morning.
Goodbye, chin-chinchilla. You will be missed.
I am now clean-shaven for the first time since 1992. Finally took a good long look in the mirror and thought, "Who exactly are you kidding? Grunge is over, you're in your late-30s, and you're a cube-jockey for a major financial institution who spends his days taking the specifications from the customers to the engineers."
Out came the clippers, and my quasi-rebellious youth became a pile of hair on the bathroom floor.
The shaved head will remain, although it's gone from "statement" (of what, I do not remember -- laziness?) to "male pattern baldness camouflage" over the last decade.
I will also continue to ride my fixed-gear in knickers from time to time, playing dress-up as a 20-something hipster, fully aware of just how pathetic that is. (Note to my one known British reader, those are 3/4-length pants, not my unmentionables. Man, it's hard to write for an actual English-speaking audience!)
On the not-terribly-bright side, at least I'm now (slightly more) respectable looking. Good thing, in case I need to hit the interview circuit unexpectedly. In my line of work, the corporate "walk of shame" is getting a little too common these days -- where you find a security guard with a cardboard box for your personal belongings waiting at your cube in the morning.
Goodbye, chin-chinchilla. You will be missed.
Equipment Changes for 2009
I always know that winter is getting to me when I start eyeing the bikes greedily, thinking about how I want to tweak them before the snow melts and the real riding begins. True to form, I'm starting out the new year with malice in my heart and a wrench in my hand.
After a lot of fiddling in 2008, the fixed gear will get off pretty easy in '09. Right now, it's sporting 38x17 gearing (60" for anyone astride a penny-farthing), studded tires, clip-on fenders, and more lights than an airport runway. This is my typical snowbike setup -- the 38x17 fixed seems ridiculously low on paper, but it's great for speed control on slippery surfaces, making the front brake almost redundant. And who am I kidding? When it's cold, I'm not moving fast enough to spin out anyway. Once we get a permanent thaw, I'll need to de-gunk the whole thing, then I'll pop off the fenders, divide the lights between the rest of the fleet, put slick tires back on, switch the 38 to a 42 (for a 67" gear), and I'll have my quasi-urban messenger poseur ride again. I know 67" probably seems low too, but since I rarely ride in fixie groups (where there seems to be an implied correlation between the size of one's gear and the bulge in one's Lycra) and I'm kind of fond of my knees, 42x17 is plenty.
The tourer didn't see a lot of changes last year, but I think it's due. After singing the praises of Wald, I decided to put a little money where my blog is and order up some inexpensive shiny chrome fenders to replace my battered Planet Bikes. Wald doesn't make a version specifically for 700c wheels, but this photo I found on Flickr seems to show that the 89-26 "lightweight" model works just fine. (Aside: I have no idea who the owner of the photo is, but he seems like my kinda rider just based on his photostream.) For $20, I figure it's worth a try -- I'll post the success or failure of the experiment once they arrive. The rear rack will come off when the fenders change, since last year's swap to platform pedals has resulted in a little pannier interference and I'm partial to my messenger bag anyway. I'm also massaging the gearing on the tourer ever so slightly, changing the 34-42 double to 36-44 and sawing off the vestigial granny-ring mounting studs to improve clearance and fight the dreaded chainsuck. The swap is really just to a) free up the 42 for the fixie, and b) provide an excuse to use the gorgeous old Shimano 44 that's littered my parts box for years. The gearing combo sounds odd, but chart it out with an 11-28 Shimano 8-speed cassette and the nonstandard 8-tooth gap makes perfect sense. It's odd to shift in sequence (with lots of double shifts), but I never do that anyway. Most of the time, I can do a whole ride as a two-speed, slap-shifting the front derailleur between whatever that day's preferred high and low combination is.
Tandem, you're off the hook (figuratively and literally, since I don't like lifting that sucker off the floor to hang it). The big black beast reached perfection two seasons ago, so it's strictly maintenance from here on out.
Now, if it weren't so dang cold in the garage...
After a lot of fiddling in 2008, the fixed gear will get off pretty easy in '09. Right now, it's sporting 38x17 gearing (60" for anyone astride a penny-farthing), studded tires, clip-on fenders, and more lights than an airport runway. This is my typical snowbike setup -- the 38x17 fixed seems ridiculously low on paper, but it's great for speed control on slippery surfaces, making the front brake almost redundant. And who am I kidding? When it's cold, I'm not moving fast enough to spin out anyway. Once we get a permanent thaw, I'll need to de-gunk the whole thing, then I'll pop off the fenders, divide the lights between the rest of the fleet, put slick tires back on, switch the 38 to a 42 (for a 67" gear), and I'll have my quasi-urban messenger poseur ride again. I know 67" probably seems low too, but since I rarely ride in fixie groups (where there seems to be an implied correlation between the size of one's gear and the bulge in one's Lycra) and I'm kind of fond of my knees, 42x17 is plenty.
The tourer didn't see a lot of changes last year, but I think it's due. After singing the praises of Wald, I decided to put a little money where my blog is and order up some inexpensive shiny chrome fenders to replace my battered Planet Bikes. Wald doesn't make a version specifically for 700c wheels, but this photo I found on Flickr seems to show that the 89-26 "lightweight" model works just fine. (Aside: I have no idea who the owner of the photo is, but he seems like my kinda rider just based on his photostream.) For $20, I figure it's worth a try -- I'll post the success or failure of the experiment once they arrive. The rear rack will come off when the fenders change, since last year's swap to platform pedals has resulted in a little pannier interference and I'm partial to my messenger bag anyway. I'm also massaging the gearing on the tourer ever so slightly, changing the 34-42 double to 36-44 and sawing off the vestigial granny-ring mounting studs to improve clearance and fight the dreaded chainsuck. The swap is really just to a) free up the 42 for the fixie, and b) provide an excuse to use the gorgeous old Shimano 44 that's littered my parts box for years. The gearing combo sounds odd, but chart it out with an 11-28 Shimano 8-speed cassette and the nonstandard 8-tooth gap makes perfect sense. It's odd to shift in sequence (with lots of double shifts), but I never do that anyway. Most of the time, I can do a whole ride as a two-speed, slap-shifting the front derailleur between whatever that day's preferred high and low combination is.
Tandem, you're off the hook (figuratively and literally, since I don't like lifting that sucker off the floor to hang it). The big black beast reached perfection two seasons ago, so it's strictly maintenance from here on out.
Now, if it weren't so dang cold in the garage...
Friday, January 2, 2009
Changes Afoot at The Cycle
Astute readers -- like I have any other kind (he said, pandering) -- may have noticed that I'm tweaking my own little corner of Blogland like some bored minor deity. For instance, the page is now graced with an extreme closeup of my ugly mug which may be used to frighten small children, induce vomiting, or prove evolution. I've also given people the option to subscribe to this blather -- at almost half off the cover price! And, neatest of all, my blogroll now provides some context for each blog and sorts by "freshness", rolling the most-recently updated blogs to the top of the list. So, bloggers in the roll, if you're sitting in last place for too long, it means your blog has that "not-so-fresh" feeling.
New in the blogroll is Alex Wetmore Is Always Busy With Something by (logically enough) Alex Wetmore. Alex is the gracious host of the iBOB mailing list, an occasional test pilot for Bicycle Quarterly, and a bike-tinkerer of the highest order. I'm convinced the guy doesn't sleep. Lucky for the rest of us, he does find time to blog on his bikely pursuits.
Finally, you've probably noticed the return of Google-inserted spam, despite my lofty proclamation that The Cycle would be ad-free. I'm sure I can come up with some lame justification for that, given enough time. In the meantime, you may abuse me as a sellout for raking in a whole take-a-penny, leave-a-penny tray's worth of loose change for my writerly labors.
New in the blogroll is Alex Wetmore Is Always Busy With Something by (logically enough) Alex Wetmore. Alex is the gracious host of the iBOB mailing list, an occasional test pilot for Bicycle Quarterly, and a bike-tinkerer of the highest order. I'm convinced the guy doesn't sleep. Lucky for the rest of us, he does find time to blog on his bikely pursuits.
Finally, you've probably noticed the return of Google-inserted spam, despite my lofty proclamation that The Cycle would be ad-free. I'm sure I can come up with some lame justification for that, given enough time. In the meantime, you may abuse me as a sellout for raking in a whole take-a-penny, leave-a-penny tray's worth of loose change for my writerly labors.
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