Upgrading a Blah Day with MTB, Beer and Cider

Biker's reward, to share with guests. (Seems I was
attracted to a certain color scheme. All are solid choices.
Yes, even the excellent DuClaw Neon Gypsy.)

                                             • SYOSSET
Cool, damp, threatening rain — one of those weekend days that was in danger of just slipping by — until you realize, "Uh oh, if I don't get outside and do something soon, I'm going to be stuck here with a no-longer-scratchable case of cabin fever."

So, with the regular road bike in dry dock for repairs and the rain bike giving me bad neck pain, I figured an MTB ride was the best option. Do I ride locally (OK for training hill repeats, but a bit boring) or drive 35 minutes to the trail?

M mentioned the weather, so checked the radar and the answer became clear. A huge claw of rain was reaching up from the south-southwest,  and its talons extended from the general direction of NewJerDelWare. If I didn't get moving, soon the day would be a total rain out.

Going further east looked like the best bet. That would probably buy me an hour of rain-free time -- just enough for a nice MTB session.

 No point wasting time zooming the radar out to the wider region, the rain was coming. I grabbed the mini wallet, a water bottle, couple of layers, lights, the trusty old Garmin Edge 305 (which is really feeling its age) ... and plunked the aging Specialized Rockhopper FSR on the back of the van and headed for Syosset.

Stillwell Woods here we come. Hadn't been there in a year; it would be a bit like starting mountainbiking fresh.

The soccer fields there were awash with a league's worth of teams, supporters, parents, cars. There were cop cars and traffic cones, and it looked like we might not even be able to get in. But the south exit was open and once through the throng, there was plenty of parking down by the trailhead. No problem here, and fortunately a few other MTBers for company.

I came dressed to ride, so no time wasted with clothing or pumping tires. We were on the trail in double quick time (I need to do that more often).

After using a road bike almost exclusively for a year, the MTB felt a bit foreign: I really didn't have a feel for pace anymore, or what speed I would roll, so as not to blow up too soon. The Garmin had crapped out, and all I had was a GPS watch on my wrist or a cell phone. Neither would I check while pedaling. Maybe that was a good thing, as I rode fast and things went smoothly.

The first lap was a solid 11.2 mph — not bad for slightly lumpy terrain, with a few features and a couple of hard gravel climbs.

The easy green trail here has a bit of a feel of a pump track to it, so if you get up a head of speed it can be easy to carry it through a few humps. in a few places I was flying and had to scrub off speed as bike got squirelly in the gravel. This was very nice riding.

Third lap -- mix in some favorite blue trail features. The bike swooped and felt at home. Wasn't sure if I could chew as much riding as I wanted to bite off, but it worked out.

"Fast up, fast down" and its companion climb went smoothly, a good sign. Short but difficult climbs. Glad I was not on a road bike, nice to have the extra gears to spin up those steep climbs.

On the third lap I dropped down a wide but slippery gravel chute that leads down to a piece of singletrack, which leads to some tough climbs. I was not pleased with my wind, but I put my head down and took it slow and steady. Yep, I was out of breath, and glad of a downhill section, but the skills were mostly still there, even if the lungs weren't.

Yep, it was the kind of ride that makes you want to celebrate, and with guests waiting at home, I picked up a few hard ciders that tasted like old family-style homemade cider from France, and a few good beers.

Tip for the ride home. Go to Seven-Eleven instead of CVS, or you might end up doing a whole load of fill-in shopping.

  

Bikes, Tyres, Inflation, Compressor, Home Brew Lube, The Old Trek

The old trek rolled nicely, but the lower bars are too low
for my neck.

Red light. Time to check the bump, bump, bump coming
 from the rear tire. Inner cords are broken. Ride this high-
pressure tyre much farther, and it would blow big time.
Time to go back home and get the backup bike.

So the plan ... the plan ... was to get the "rain/flatland" bike back into working order for  bikepath rides near work. And basically all that entailed was pumping up the tires, and squirting on a bit of chain lube. Nine years since I last rode it, and that was all that was needed.

That was the "plan." So first things first, pump up Trek's tires, and top of the air in Leader's tires. Then.go.ride before the rush hour traffic got into full swing. Save the the lube chores for later.

Well, I have this "pancake" compressor for hobby power tools that needs to justify its existence, so I used it to inflate the four tires, just because it's there.

But, as I was inflating the blue Leader785R's tires, I had my fingers on the tires and I felt a strong jolt. I just figured it was the blast of air, nothing more.

I put the red Trek 660 in the back yard and went out to ride the blue Leader.

At the first traffic light I felt a bump, bump bump, coming from the Leader785's back tyre. WTF could that be? An acorn? -- nope not unless it is stuck to the tyre.

I got off the bike to check it out. and this is what I found (photos)

October 6. Uh oh, too much air too fast.
Tire is borked.

Uh oh! What did I do to this inner tube/tyre combination? These are high-pressure Serfas Secas that run at a max 130 psi (crazy eh?). I typically inflate to 110-120 psi.

I was pumping in about 10 psi at a time, with each trigger press, so it should not have been a big deal, but the tire is 7 years old, and the inner cords might have weakened after so many huge pothole hits.

Air n Sports bicycle tyre inflator attachment.

Returned home, got the old Trek out.

Shit, no lube!

I could ride it as is, but that would be cruel and unusual punishment to a 30 year old Campagnolo Nuovo Record drive train, so I whipped up a quick batch of home brew out of chainsaw bar oil/motor oil and mineral spirits, and we were just about ready to roll.

I forgot my recipe. So I winged it — a couple of ounces of Master Mechanic chainsaw bar oil, an ounce of Castrol motor oil, and about and ounce of mineral spirits to aid penetration (all funneled into an empty bottle of ProLink Gold and shaken, not stirred). If I'd have had more mineral oil I'd have added a bit more, but that was all that was left in the can. That ought to do it! It flowed on easily enough.

Back in July I had tested this compressor on tires up to 130.
(That's the max for the Serfas Secas, and I like 'em firm.) 

The home brew laboratory. Not shown Castrol motor oil.

Next, move the lights, Garmin Edge 305 and saddle bag over, and ride around a bit to test the "clipless" pedals again.

The old Specialized Bike BG MTB clipless shoes were as comfortable as they were 9 years ago - amazing.

I could get used to clipless again maybe.

Very quickly got the pedaling style back, although it took a most of the ride to get fluid with the clip-ins.

The downtube shifters were very stiff. I hadn't used them in years, either, so each shift took a few seconds extra time. But aside from that, the bike rode really, really well, and in places, it was just fantastic, felt very alive. You better believe it — "Steel is real," as its fans like to say.

Mental note to self, "if in doubt, clip out" and when approaching intersection that might require a stop, "clip out first, shift later."

For the 53+plus guys (who don't bounce as well as they once did)  it's just not worth the risk of falling because you took too long to shift a downtime shifter, and didn't have time to clip out before you stopped, capiche?

Yes.

Two boards, three boards, four boards ... loading ... wind chase on ...

The "water bikes": two boards.
one spare tyre. All loaded up.
Fading wind to play with.

So the wind chase was on. Phone started ringing early. "Wanna take a ride out to Bayville? when are we sailing?" said Lenny the Squid.

"Urgh! Last night was rough." Such is life with teenagers in the house. Expect a disrupted routine. Comes with the territory these days. You're blessed and lucky if there is no trouble. 

Hurricane Hermine was supposed to hit Long Island — and still could — as a tropical storm or tropical depression. 

three boards, one spare tyre/tire. loaded.

The weather was fine, the breeze was looking promising for a perfect day of windsurfing. A can't miss affair. Warm, windy, sunny - like a day in Hawaii. 

So, having just emptied the van of all equipment to take R. back to college, I set about reloading it with all the stuff you need for a major day of windsurfing. 

But that bit about the wind...?

"it's filling in!" said Lenny. And he was right. For half an hour he was right. And it reached its climax ... and pooped out.

four boards, one spare tyre/tire. loaded ... still
plenty of room for 5 sails and 3 booms. minivans getting it done.

If all else fails, go paddle. sometimes it's just the ticket.

The best laid plans of windsurfers, mice and men. Our phone chain fizzled as the wind faded. Bruce is on a 7.8. What??? That was the death knell. "A complete bust!" said Domer.

The text messages stopped, and some of the boards went back into the racks. (To be replaced a a few hours later with the standup paddle board). Some will stay in the van just in case tomorrow morning or tomorrow after work delivers the goods. 

But it's not looking likely. Hermine has tracked further east, and truth be told, that's fine with me. 

Paddle upwind, paddle downwind,
paddle all around; whichever way takes your fancy

I used to drive into the teeth of tropical storms and get busy. On the ocean, distant hurricane swell and wind was best. Windsurfed or surfed quite a few of those. 

But these days I've had enough of hurricanes, especially after Irene, which took our buddy Joe Rocco, and Sandy which put the region in the cold and dark for weeks.

So if the wind does not go nuts I'm OK with it. Plenty of porch repairs to do, and really don't need any rain there to screw things up any more than they are already. 

Think I'll crack open a cider or a beer, or both, and bathe that splinter in my finger with a bit of tequila Jimmy Buffet style.

Check out that Oldsmobile in the background -- learned to
drive in one of those in 1985 or so. Good to see one still
in service, and pulling a boat trailer no less.

It's what you make of it ...

Town dock can be kind of loud, people passing by in all directions, conversations everywhere, music blaring out of cars and boats, almost like new york city in a lowercase way. And as the light fades you can see the twinkle of some of NYC's bridges and skyscrapers in the distance if the humidity is low and your prescription or eyesight is good enough.

But with a sunset view like this, it's easier to filter out the commotion ...

Bike take you to places that never seem to get old.

 I can't believe I got jaded to the town dock experience for as long as I did. In the work rut I missed thousands of sunsets, paid them scant notice. And windsurfing sunsets were of a different ilk .. more charismatic and energized than calm and contemplative.

Lost the sweatband - time to crack out
the pirate bandana. 

This was much enjoyed moment after a day of working on porch flooring in the heat. But I can't complain, it was fun, as was this noontime's ride to the end of the point.

Of course, where would we be if we had not kicked things off properly on hot and steamy Friday evening on the porch with an ice cold vermont cider. The mighty Woodchuck. As viewed by the mighty BoZena.

So ... is that for me? No? OK will you at least
 leave me some? No? Then let me taste, just a drop?

Checking for fit. Fits mostly. The work that goes into fixing
or restoring is sometimes a lot more than what goes into
originally creating. This was harder than it looked.  

"M. is cracking me up. That's enough

selfies -- get back to work!"

Summer going by in hyperdrive?

I don't know 'bout you, but is this summer going by in hyperdrive?

One minute we were in NY, then we were preparing for vacation (and that was an odyssey of its own), then we were on vacation, then we were back from vacation, and next thing we knew we were spending our weekends either ferrying oldest son back and forth from Manhattan and the Bronx, or sweating our goolies off.

Lake Elizabeth. More than meets the eye.

Oh, yes there was a night and a day in the E.R. somewhere in there.

But there were moments of sublime peace, too.

And some beautiful places and spaces.

The oasis that is Cape Cod provided a few of those.

Here's the first of several.

from the land of simple and delightful little cottages

and a few more ... places we walked, rode, ran, jogged, and just savoured as much as we could.

When a dog says, "it's a duck's life!"

A pond that's just about big enough to be a lake
 named Elizabeth

New bar tape, reposition hoods, realign bars

AFTER: About an hour later ... now I can get all that snow
white stuff real dirty. Planning ahead,
next bar tape job will be light blue.

After yesterday's minor slow-motion spill (caught tire in a rut while walking and talking with a running friend I met on my ride) it was time to get the 4mm wrench out and realign the twisted handlebars.

The hood had also slipped down a little on the right side, and I was not feeling secure on rough, lumpy high-speed downhills. Hitting a pothole or two I needed a little more hood to hang on to.

With my amateur bartape job now looking like the dog's dinner after 7 years, I figured it was time to put the hoods where I (think I) want them and fix the various issues.

BEFORE: Getting unraveled and rather funky ...

Yes that first bar tape job was done in the evening after a long bike build session and a celebratory scotch in 2007ish. Never try to wrap bar tape for the first time after drinking scotch.

Had this Cinelli tape lying around for years. I have re-installed the bar-end mirror even though it causes a bulge on the left bar-end.

I miss the Aztec anti-vibe, but with moving the shifters comes moving the cables and they were connected to tape which had anti-vibe material well stuck on. It all had to go.

P.S. I have a high stem since I have a couple of 85% recovered herniated neck discs that I'm trying not to aggravate. Bars are about 3/4 of an inch above saddle height (as this is not a compact geometry frame.)

DURING: Tape and Aztec anti-vibe ripped off, mostly.
Wrench in the shifter for hood/shifter adjustment fun. 

If I were to do this differently, I would put some more material near the top of the hoods where I ride most.

Differently may happen. With the hoods a little "up" over level, the gear downshift "thumb-ears" are now an uncomfortable reach with the thumbs. Hoods may have to come back down a tad.

I used the Park Tool site instructions mostly, although I watched a few other videos that helped improve my *cough* technique.

The tape is of the "tension" variety, no adhesive, so it's actually easier to re-wrap if you don't like what you did the first time.

I did a "redo" on the first side when I came up short, length-wise — not enough tape left by the time I got to the tops.

Re-wrapping one time was enough "wrestling" for one hot day.

Chainring Tattoo ... but it was beautiful out there today

A mellow but occasionally cranking ride around Sands Point.

The views were classic summertime, a few days ahead of time. Give it a couple more days and it really will be summer.

But for now, the water is still cool and the evenings deliciously cooler. It's been one of the the most pleasant springs I can remember on L.I. following a very mild El Nino winter. Perfect for riding, no complaints.

Took a tiny spill today and gave myself a bit of a bloody chainring tattoo. Nothing out of the ordinary for a mountainbiker...but maybe a bit unsightly for a road biker.

Luckily this "prang" took place at slow speed. The punctures and scrapes to the leg will require a bit of maintenance with hydrogen peroxide and witch hazel, and the bike will require the attention of a few allen wrenches.

How'd it happen? Walking with friend Rick, the bike pedals were hitting me in the leg, and for a fw seconds I decided to scoot slowly on one pedal. Somehow caught the front wheel in a sandy rut next to the asphalt and that was that. The next thing I knew the front wheel jack-knifed and bike and Phil were on the road.

Managed to severely twist the headset/fork about 20 degrees off-axis.

To temporarily fix things for ride home, I gripped the front wheel between my thighs/knees and twisted the handlebars and stem back to something close to on-center. Rideable but not optimal.

Well I'm gonna have to get the books and wrenches out and see if I can fix it. That was the only part of the bike I didn't put together when I built it, so there will be a learning curve.

Caution: Photos of chainring tattoo follow with ex-mountainbiker leg fur.