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22.06.11
I thought my tire pressure gauge wasn't working. Turns out my tire pressure was just too low to register on the pop-out meter thing. This could perhaps explain why everyone goes faster than me downhill. Uphill could be for any number of reasons, but downhill had to be something to do with the bike. Of course, the only tire pump I have is one of those emergency, compactness-over-ease-of-use numbers where you're using single arm power to push on a metal cylinder, like the kind used to inflate balloons to make balloon animals. Maximum tire pressure is around 40 psi. I got it to around 25 before my arms gave out and the little tube connecting it to the tire got alarmingly hot. I'm curious to tackle the hill tomorrow and see if it made a difference.
17.06.11
I'm biking to work. Partly out of sort of wanting to be more active, but not really, as the only way I'll exercise is if the exertion is beside the point. In this case it gets me to work, saves me needing a bus pass, and doesn't take much extra time out of my day.
I'm using a now-at-least-third-hand bike purchased last year by my former work-study student to get around campus. She went back east after the summer term, I bought the bike off her with the intention it would be a shared running-to-a-meeting bike, which it was, though not that much. Over the winter it sat. In the rain. For a while.
The first time I took it out this year, I got on and started pedalling. Nothing happened. Looking down, the chain was hanging off the front gears and not going anywhere. Hooking it back on was easy enough and I made it across campus and even managed to change through the back gears, rusty though they were. The front ones were beyond hope, so the ten-speed is now a five.
I took it out again and this time could barely get the lock off. The key went in, but not much turning happened. I rode it to my meeting and was unable to get the lock to work at all. It ended up coming into the meeting with me.
Back at the office, I grabbed some machine oil and tried to get it into the bits of the lock I could access. An oily liquid like coffee with the grounds left in seeped out. The key turned though, and the lock was back in business. More oil went around the axles of the bike, and that pretty much exhausted my mechanic skills.
The first ride home went well enough, but the ride in the next morning was in the rain, not quite hard enough to call it off, but plenty to get me wet without any rain gear or mud guards. I also had to go up the hill. The hill, it turns out, is legendary among the bike commuters on campus. There are various routes up the hill, each favoured by a different tribe. The easiest, by general consensus, is up 8th. It attacks you in three parts; the first is a slow incline, good for getting your head and breathing into it. It turns a corner at a 4-way stop, which at least gives you an excuse to pause, then climbs gently to a level. I made it up this part just fine. The next part is the biggest climb, straight up, laid out in front of you like a wall. I pulled into the high school driveway and became intensely interested in reading the sign next to it. A few cyclists, much better equipped for the rain, passed me at this point.
Eventually, I was only delaying the inevitable, so I set off again, and ran out of steam almost immediately. A handy curb cut halfway up provided an escape route to the sidewalk, where I pushed the bike up to the next plateau. I still had the third stage of the hill to deal with, though it's the most merciful, a short rise, a bit of a flat with a roundabout, then a crest to level ground for the rest of the trip. I may have paused in the middle, but I made it up without dismounting.
After this experience, I decided adjusting the seat was not an optional measure. My work-study student was at least six inches shorter than I am, and not having your legs extend on a bicycle is not a good way to get anywhere fast. I raised the seat to the point where it looks ridiculous given the size of the bike, but the next time I tackled the hill, I made it all the way up in one go, no stopping. I've biked the last eight workdays in a row, and feel rather smug, even if the only people I'm passing are small children, people towing small children, and the elderly.
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©d.tan  |
