planetary gears

A brilliant scheme comes together

2009-11-09T18:52:00.003-06:00

A couple Summers ago I tried to get through from Mendota to Hwy 77 to the Lyndale access point of the Minnesota River Bottoms trail. Somewhere near 9-Mile Creek, I found myself in nasty mud on an indefinite trail, and gave up. In hindsight, I probably just made a wrong turn. Today I had a companion who is more familiar with the trail, and we took advantage of the fine weather to construct an elaborate adventure.

Some government people made a new access road west of the Hwy 77 bridge, which is quite alluring. But after a few hundred meters, it returns to some easy-going singletrack.

After snaking through the woods along the riverbank, we had some opportunities to test our balance.

Here's my bike:

The trail conditions are great, mostly.

This dilapidated raft was our passage across 9-Mile Creek:

Getting on this damned thing with a couple of geriatric hecklers standing by was high-comedy.

Some big trees along the river:

After a very brief pavement crossing of the parking lot at Lyndale, the trail is basically a gravel road. Then it narrows back to singletrack. Approaching the official endpoint of the trail, at Bloomington Ferry bridge, is, in my opinion, the prettiest part of the trail along the river:

My bike on the Bloomington Ferry bridge:

and a close-up of my "Explorer" tire:

This is where things got interesting. I said to my companion: "Huh, I wonder what's on the other side of the bridge." I asked a guy who was walking, and he described an old 2-track road that "goes along the river for a long way." A few minutes later, we encountered an old guy, who I figured would be in-the-know. He said: "I don't know anything about it, but it's worth a try!" That was all the encouragement we needed, and in a couple minutes, we were riding along the river on the 2-track, thinking we were geniuses for finding this alternate return route to complete the loop.

That warm and fuzzy genius feeling quickly subsided when we first had to push our bikes through the long grass and over/around numerous logs. Then we carried the bikes over a ravine, only to find another ravine, which was flowing deep and fast, with no good crossing points:

We opted not to cross, but instead to ride/push our bikes along this lovely trout stream.

It took some doing to hike our bikes through these weeds, which were great for concealing tripping hazards:

After the hike-a-bike in the weeds, we were rewarded with a nice smooth railroad to ride on. After my dental-work rattled out of my skull, we started pushing the bikes along the tracks.

It was a suboptimal situation, but what the fuck.

The railroad eventually led us to a frontage road along the freeway, which led us to a much-needed fast-food joint in a hellhole town (IMO) called Savage. My companion came up with an impromptu route along the perimeter of the Cliff Road landfill, which was nice. Shortly thereafter, we were on Black Dog Road, where I relived my brief (1-event) bike racing career (no near-vomiting this time).

Then back to the familiar trail:

Soon we were back to the point of beginning, for a 42-mile loop that included roads, singletrack, balance-beam bridges, a raft, gravel roads, more singletrack, hiking, railroad tracks, a landfill, etc, etc. We weren't tired at all, and wanted to repeat the loop in reverse, but opted to go home to make our wives happy instead.

history repeats itself again, and I learn something new everyday

2009-11-04T23:49:00.004-06:00

Today at the shop, right before close, some semi-regular neighborhood guy walked in with his early 1990s Gary Fisher mountain bike, complaining of symptoms that suggested a broken bottom bracket (BB) spindle. I grabbed the cranks to see if they'd spin independently. They didn't, but there was the sensation of bearings binding and the BB spindle precessed significantly. Hmmm. I noticed and mentioned that the BB shell seemed wider than normal, and that the BB retaining ring(s) seemed farther inboard than normal. M removed the crank, and voiced some confusion and/or displeasure at what he was seeing. Where we'd normally find some kind of BB tool interface, there was a snap-ring. Ok, weird. M produced a tool I didn't know we had, and removed a snap-ring from each side of the BB shell. Then he used a hammer to drive out the spindle and bearings, one of which was in pieces, and the source of the initial problem.

This is the entire BB assembly, including the broken bearing:

And this is the BB shell:

Note the slots for the snap-rings, where, more commonly, we find threads.

The BB shell is about 88.5 mm wide, which is 20.5 mm longer than normal:

Some internet research revealed a couple bike forum discussions of these unusual BBs, but information was sparse, at best. It seems to have been branded by Gary Fisher with the term "Evolution" and some called it "Extra Wide". The spindle was not branded with a Shimano or Sugino logo, but with a Gary Fisher logo, suggesting this was a proprietary, Gary Fisher component, though M thinks Klein had something similar or identical. In any case, it actually seems like a pretty clever design. The extra width and larger bearings would seem to make for a stronger, and less flexy BB. And since there is no need to have threaded cups and/or a BB cartridge shell, it isn't necessarily much/any heavier. Despite Fisher and Klein getting behind the idea for at least a couple years, it certainly never gained much ground with other brands.

Instead, square taper BBs with skinny spindles but largish bearings, which, with their cottered predecessors, had been the standard as long as anyone can remember, gave way to ISIS and Octalink BBs with fatter spindles and smaller bearings. Then the entire concept of a BB with bearings and a spindle contained within and threaded into the BB shell, which had been in use in various forms for many decades, was supplanted with external bearings (still with the standard threading) and cranks that had the spindles attached to the crank spider. This was both lighter and had a large diameter spindle and "wide-stance" bearings for added stiffness/strength. The next step, which is where we are now, is a revisit to press-fit bearings similar to what Fisher and Klein were doing almost two decades ago (without success). Of course, the new BB30 design and similar proprietary designs are not identical to the Fisher that we have in the shop, but the ostensible motivation is the same: to make the BB area stiffer and stronger without adding weight.

Anyway, I was initially not hopeful about this repair, and suspected that the frame was trash since the BB was so oddball. But it turns out that the old Fisher is actually pretty cheap to fix. The wholesale on two new bearings (which are a standard size) is about $5. This was delightful news, but also a little disappointing, as I had designs on the semi-rare 1-1/4" threaded headset and stem on what might have been an otherwise useless frameset (my tandem takes that size headset and stem).

forecasting trends

2009-11-04T09:30:00.004-06:00

One personal/professional interest of mine is forecasting trends in bicycle designs. Today the generally agreeable Ecovelo blog has some commentary about evolution in road and mountain bike design, and a general prediction that "transpo bikes" are in the early stages of a wave of evolution.

First, a look at the evolution of other types of bikes suggest that, like biological evolution, the process tends to favor increasing diversity. Road bikes in the 1970s, for example, all featured similar frame geometries, similar materials, similar components, similar gear-ranges, and similar tire clearances. I imagine that die-hard enthusiasts back then, like always, had strong opinions and brand preferences, but looking back, it's hard to see much differentiation in the market. In the ensuing 3 or 4 decades, the road bike category has spawned offshoots like cross bikes, touring bikes, sport-touring bikes, comfort road bikes, sport hybrids, commuter road bikes, etc. The savvy bike-buyer has a large (often overwhelming) number of options from which to choose. Mountain bikes have also become more diverse. At one time, most MTBs were steel, heavy-enough-to-take-the-punishment, had a limited variety of component choices, and almost all took 26" wheels. Now there are numerous suspension (or non-suspension) options, at least 3 wheel sizes, various drivetrains and shifter options, etc. Categorization and subdivision have run rampant in this category, too: downhill, cross-country, freeride, etc, etc. Those of us who don't necessarily get into cutting edge designs, or who prefer a lower level of specialization, have benefited from a sort of neo-"retro" movement, wherein simple, time-tested designs are rescued from the dustbin, perhaps given a modern twist (e.g. threadless steerer or disc brake options), and offered as an alternative to mainstream selections.

Nearly two years ago, I spent a few days in Portland, which, not unlike Minneapolis, is arguably ahead of the curve in the development of that nebulous quality called "bike culture". I noticed that the predominant Portland bike-genre ran parallel to most of the bikes I tend to like. Namely: Touring, sport-touring, or refurbished mountain bikes with fenders, a rear rack, and a pannier or two. The appeal of this type of bike lies in its simplicity, reliability/ruggedness, versatility, usually low price, and DIY street cred. In flatter Minneapolis, the same styles seem to be commonplace among bike people, but I see a few more fixed-gears/single-speeds and a lot more Surly-brand contraptions hereabouts. More specialized bike types, like Dutch bikes, Civias, and other commuter-specific designs are making inroads in the novice bike commuter market (i.e. people who don't necessarily differentiate themselves as bike people"), but those items have yet to gain much foothold among the bike-enthusiast/bike-subversive subculture.

I foresee a lot of growth in the Portland-type sport-tourer category as supplies of "vintage" bikes dry up. Among new bikes, this category is probably best typified by the Surly Long Haul Trucker and Cross-Check. These days, it's actually pretty easy for somebody of modest means to own a bike brand, simply by contacting a certain Taiwanese frame manufacturer and placing a modest order with a limited number of sizes. Local (or formerly local) examples of this include Kogswell, Rawland, and Handsome, all of which have the same desirable qualities: rack and fender braze-ons, ample tire/fender clearance, etc. Because this general design makes a lot of sense for so many people, because the designs are pretty much established, and because small-scale manufacturing of this type of bike is feasible even for small players, the proliferation of small brands that follow this theme seems inevitable. Since many of these brands will offer similar products and similar pricing, marketing will be key, and, for most, "local" brands will be most successful locally.

The other end of the "transpo" category seems to be the fully-integrated commuter bikes that are best typified at this point by Civia and Breezer. These bikes include all the supposedly must-have commuter bike features, like generator lighting, internal-gear hubs, fenders, racks, etc. These bikes, IMO, have limited appeal among the novice, non-enthusiast set, because they cost a lot of money, and even more limited appeal among the enthusiast set, who will pick nits with the part spec. Despite these constraints, I still think this segment will grow in sales, as driving becomes less feasible or less desirable.

Of course, when looking to the future, we have to consider the ongoing financial problems attendant to our post-peak-oil situation. While it seems likely that more people will be riding bikes in the future, the bikes the financially strapped ride will necessarily tend to be on the low-end, either salvaged from dusty garages, or purchased for under $100 from Wal-Mart. The other issue is that we have a sedentary, overweight, and/or aging population that is unaccustomed to physical exercise, and averse to anything even remotely sporty in their bikes. These folks will establish early preference for wide, squishy seats, suspension forks and seatposts, and ultra-high handlebars. Since these features are found on the lower end ($400-500) of name brand bikes, these bikes will continue to sell well, and, assuming the economy stays in the shitter, the bikes purchased now will be in service for many years.

walking

2009-10-27T00:02:00.003-05:00

Today, as usual, I walked Elissa to pre-school, for a round-trip of ~0.8 miles. Then I bundled up Oliver into his stroller, packed some shockingly heavy photographic equipment and various provisions in a backpack, and walked to the shop, where I picked up two packages of outgoing merchandise. Pushing the stroller, lugging the backpack, and trying to balance the packages, I made it to the post office, where the packages were sent on their way. Then up the street to the bank for a deposit. After the errands were done, the adventure began. Oliver and I strolled along Minnehaha Creek, and even ventured to inner-city St Paul. By the time we got home, we had more than 12 miles under our belts, which is the farthest I've walked in at least a year or two. Since I was pushing the stroller and carrying the backpack, I did exercise some muscles that haven't done much lately, and I'm starting to feel it.

I often walk my post office and bank errands, which is a round-trip of roughly 2 miles. I like walking. Whenever I walk, I observe details that I usually miss when I'm zipping by on my bike. I have a strange desire to do some kind of endurance walking, maybe even walk a long trip. I've considered, for example, walking the Lake Pepin 3-speed tour, since my walking speed isn't actually that different than the biking speed of some of the cycling participants.

the equipment requirements of the practical cyclist

2009-10-25T07:57:00.003-05:00

I've been using a bike as my main transportation for almost 6 years, and been in the business of selling/fixing/outfitting bikes for transportation for close to 4 years. I'm more experienced with this stuff than many, not as experienced as some. Anyway, based on my admittedly limited and unique experience, I've come to disagree with much of the orthodoxy that permeates the internet with regard to the equipment requirements of a practical cyclist.

First, to the shock of many, I don't share the general enthusiasm for internal gear hubs (IGH). There is a general belief that they are The Only Sensible Choice for a transportation bike, mostly based on claims that they are low-maintenance, and dare I say "bomb-proof" (I am cringing). This widely supposed attribute tends to attract users who lack the knowledge, skill, and/or desire to perform simple mechanical adjustments or basic cleaning/lubrication maintenance (not to mention the just plain lazy). This may be a fine approach for your city bike if you live in Southern California or even Portland, but it doesn't really work on a bike in Minnesota. IGH or not, if your plan is to ride through a Minnesota winter or two, then neglect the bike all summer, you are going to have serious problems. If you ride, say, a basic MTB with a Shimano cassette hub, chances are your local bicycle shop will have the parts and expertise to service even the most egregious cases of neglect. Try to find internal parts for your IGH, locally on the internet. Try it. When we have to service these hubs after use in the winter and subsequent neglect, we generally can't order parts from QBP, and we end up contacting manufacturer warranty departments (usually to talk to service people who have little knowledge of IGH parts). As often as not, we are told that they no longer carry parts for whatever version of the hub we happen to have in front of us. That said, IGH hubs do have some advantages, and anybody who is at least minimally competent as a mechanic, who understands that cleaning and lubrication is a good idea, or who is willing to visit the LBS a couple times a year for a tune-up may be well served by an IGH set-up. (I should add that many of the same arguments apply to generator lighting systems - they have lots of advantages, but some diligence in maintenance is required)

Second, chainguards and chaincases are a pain in the ass. There is something to be said for having some kind of mechanism for keeping your bellbottoms clean and out of the chain while pedaling a bike. I know, it makes too much sense. But in practice, these damn things are more trouble than they're worth. They rattle and make the bike hard to service. The chainguard on my old 3-speed routinely catches my shoe and gets bent. Then I try to unbend it and find that it starts rubbing on the chain. If I ever ride that bike again, I'm taking it off and throwing it in the trash. The cheap plastic chaincase that comes on many city bikes (e.g. Breezer) mounts on the drive-side bottom bracket cup, and often the vibration of the guard works the BB loose over time. Chaincases (in conjunction with the IGH set-up hiding behind them) make it hard to fix rear flats, which is the most common bike repair task. I prefer chainwheel type guards, such as the Salsa Crossing Guard. I also prefer to sacrifice my bellbottom fashion impulses, and settle for more cycling-appropriate garments.

I was just reading this treatise about the intersection of frame-geometry, front-loading, and practical cycling. No doubt a front porteur-style rack is one way to carry crap on a bike, and certainly Frenchie-style front-loading is the preferred method of at least one persuasive, and decidedly Francophile publication. I tried carrying substantial weight on frame-mounted front racks on a Brompton and on a Dutch roadster at this shop, and concluded that it didn't make sense to attach the weight to the fork where it will affect steering leverage. Anyway, for years I have been using rear panniers and front baskets on a variety of bikes, with satisfactory results. I tried heavy front pannier loading on a bike that supposedly has "incorrect geometry", and it was fine by my standards (no 50 mph no-handed descents). I have a Big Dummy and a rickshaw that can carry 500 lbs and/or objects as large as a queen (king?) size bed, but for most of what I do, a front basket or a single grocery pannier is adequate for my needs. These are available at most bike shops and work on most bikes and don't cost much. Of course, if you must have a front-loaded French-inspired bike, the best cure is to get one and ride it for awhile to separate the hype from the reality. Maybe you'll like it, and maybe you won't. When it comes to bikes, there are no universal truths, no matter what somebody says on the internet.

Typical Sunday at the ER

2009-10-12T14:02:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, just out of the shower, Oliver slipped on the floor and hit his face on the step-stool. I picked him up and saw that his eyebrow was bleeding. Trying to mop up the blood with my finger, I saw that the skin along the eyebrow line was thoroughly laid open. Shit, we have to go to the doctor. After the initial fright of such a crash-landing, Oliver regained his composure, hurriedly got dressed, and got in the car. He even resumed his rambunctious, clownish ways while awaiting his treatment at the ER.

Watching the suture nurse sew up your screaming little boy (while he's wrapped and strapped to a board) isn't for the faint of heart, but he is resilient, and sprung back quickly from the trauma. The post-op popsicle made everything better.

*iPhone photo with some enhancements from the neat Best Camera app.

Winter bike for the 2009/10 season

2009-10-10T11:45:00.002-05:00

This bike seems appropriate for the current economic situation, in general, and my spartan economic situation, in particular.

The frame came to me from one of our regulars at the shop. He was riding to or from work one day several months ago when he saw the frame sticking out of a heap of scrap metal on the back of a truck. He somehow arranged to get the frame from the scrap guys. Later he negotiated a deal with me to trade the frame for some miscellaneous bike parts. The frame started life as a (near as I can tell) 1992 Trek 750 Multi-Track: lugged, True Temper tubing, made in the USA. We blasted the paint off and Mark at HC rattle-canned it black for me. It has a high bottom-bracket, so I immediately decided to make it into a fixed-gear.

I did this build on a budget, with used parts from my stash and some closeouts I got at HC.

writing volume

2009-10-06T00:58:00.002-05:00

Long-time readers may be tempted to think that my blog writing volume has gone down since I had three kids, got out of school, started a business, and, in general got a life. Not true! I'm still an insomniac, and still write a ton! I actually write about 5 or 10 posts for every one that I "publish". Usually, I get to the end of what I want to write, and suddenly, having gotten all the words out of my head and arranged the way I want them, I no longer feel the need, for various reasons, to share whatever it is that I wrote. I'm not sure exactly why.

what I've been doing lately

2009-09-30T21:45:00.002-05:00

I sold the pink Univega. With three kids, I didn't see myself getting out for the long road rides much. Heck, with two kids I only rode it about 200 miles all year, with 150 of those miles in one single day. Now if I want to go for a bike ride, most of the time, I'll have to bring the kids:

The new-to-me Santana tandem is an upgrade to the yellow Gitane that Elissa and I were riding a few weeks ago. I like this bike, and hope we get some decent Fall weather so we can roll out some serious miles.

Today, after a 3-week hiatus, I got back on the unicycle.

I wondered if 3 weeks of no unicycle practice would make me rusty, but I just got on and rode it, maybe better than when I left off.

By the end of today's practice session, I had repeated my previous longest ride several times. I think I'm ready to leave the safety and familiarity of the HC parking lot and hit the open road.

Insecurity and fear in cycling

2009-09-21T23:25:00.004-05:00

Via the always interesting Snak Shak, I was treated to this series of articles about fear of cycling, which is written from a scientific sociological viewpoint. As any cyclist who has ever encouraged others to ride bicycles will attest, it can be difficult to get past the fears and insecurities many people harbor about bicycling. These articles break down the construction of safety-related fears. By using the term 'construction of fear', the author implies that fear is produced, almost as if by design, by systematic cultural pressures, and that the level of fear generally rises above the actual risk.

A couple key points that I never really considered before:

1. Until the 1920s-30s or thereabouts, streets served as a conduit of traffic, but also as an unstructured social area, children's play area, etc. As more people started driving cars, it became clear that the streets could either remain multipurpose social/transportation spaces, or they could be dedicated to the efficient flow of automobile traffic, but not both. Obviously the trend was, and continues to be toward permitting the cars to be driven unfettered, and effectively, if not legally, prohibiting the activities of people who aren't in cars.

2. Following #1, some government and non-government organizations initiated safety campaigns aimed at teaching pedestrians and cyclists how to survive on the mean streets in the presence of fast-moving cars. While safety education might seem like a decent idea, one side-effect was to put the onus of safety onto the shoulders of the people who were most at risk, rather than on the people who were causing the risk. Every cyclist who has received a dirty look, a rude insult, or even well-meaning (if wrong-headed) safety admonition from a passing motorist knows that we are viewed as obstacles to the motoring priorities of our society, despite laws that tell us we have the right to use roads (staying as far to the right as practicable...). In any case, the result of decades of safety-education, formal and otherwise, is that many people tend to have a fear of being in the street without being in an automobile.

3. The author uses the third chapter to discuss the effects of social and legal pressures to wear bicycle helmets. Regardless of the value of wearing a helmet, or not, one effect of helmet use and compulsion (social or legal) is to make cycling seem more dangerous (construction of fear, again) and to reduce the number of bicyclists. He also points out, probably to counter the prevailing pro-helmet wisdom, some research that shows that motorists are more careless around helmeted cyclists, that cycling becomes less safe in general when fewer people are cycling. These are non-obvious reasons why widespread helmet use may make cycling more dangerous, counter to our intuition. I don't take a side on this contentious issue, but I do wear a helmet 99% of the time.

I learned a few things from these articles that seem to focus on the fears associated with cycling on streets in traffic. But the author alludes to some other fears in the introduction, and I think they could use a more thorough treatment:

Most obviously this fear relates to anxieties about being in close and unprotected proximity to speeding cars, it’s to do with a fear of crashes, injury and death. But fear of cycling is also more complex than this. People on bikes move through public space in a much more open, less mediated way than people in cars. That’s one of the pleasures of cycling, but it also potentially heightens feelings of existential vulnerability. Some people also undoubtedly fear looking inept on a bike, fear working their bodies in public, fear harassment or violence from strangers. Cities are full of fear, which is partly why and partly because people move in cars.

The fear of looking inept and, more generally, not 'fitting in' is a big one for a lot of people. When we were doing mechanical support for the Minneapolis Bike Tour yesterday, one rider broke it down in terms of cyclists who wear t-shirts vs cyclists who wear a jersey. The t-shirt people are, according to the theory, friendly, approachable, and "just out to enjoy themselves", while the jersey people are overly serious, unfriendly, and, I inferred, not out to enjoy themselves. I half-jokingly responded: didn't you know that establishing a hierarchy and forming a clique is the most important aspect of cycling? Of course, this guy was the walking stereotype of the casual bike rider: older hybrid bike with the requisite whiff of WD-40, t-shirt and casual shorts, tennis shoes, and a helmet that he'd been wearing since the first Bush administration. He apparently wanted the sleek 30 mph guys on the multi-thousand-dollar bikes to acknowledge him and be his friend (as if they have anything in common beyond the vague mechanical similarities of their machines), but that didn't pan out for him. Hence, the sour grapes t-shirt/jersey theory.

The hierarchy thing first became clear to me a couple years ago during a ride out to Hopkins. I made my usual coffee/pastry stop at The Depot. Seated on the patio just outside the door of the place, where everybody would necessarily pass to get coffee or use the restroom, was a guy who could have been posing for the cover of Bicycling magazine. There was his exotic-brand Ti bike, prominently displayed next to him, as if it was to be a prop in a photo. He sat at his table, alone, and, with a cultivated smirk on his face, surveying the other 15 or 20 cyclists who were sipping coffee and talking bikes. Under his $200 sunglasses was the unmistakable smugness that read as clearly as a sign on his forehead: "I have the best bike and the best clothes, and I am the guy you wish you could be." He was there to make everybody else feel inadequate, and therefore, everybody seemed to pretend he wasn't there, as they cast sidelong glances at him, hoping he'd bestow some token of approval or even a nod of acknowledgment. But I'd been in the bike business long enough by that time that I was not impressed, and thought he just seemed like another aging Type-A peckerhead roadie. Later I had the thought that I should have started a conversation with him, maybe discuss his bike a bit before delivering the coup de grâce by underhandedly questioning why he used this or that part on his bike when he should have used some other component that everybody knows is better. I imagine his hot-shot persona would have gone to pieces, but by the time I thought of it, I was well down the road.

something is missing

2009-09-17T22:49:00.003-05:00

I don't watch TV, so maybe this gets talked about every night on the news. But when discussing the various healthcare overhaul plans, why doesn't anybody ever mention that the status quo is a path to complete and utter bankruptcy, for individuals and for the country (but not for providers or insurers, of course). Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, of course, but we should at least get that idea into the ether so folks can chew on it and decide how they feel about it.

I always liked Dmitry Orlov's writing. He takes on grim topics in a concise, light-hearted, and strangely objective way. His most recent post was genius if you ask me:

The latest, desperate effort to avoid national bankruptcy at the hands of the medical-industrial complex is not a new initiative. Medical reform has been attempted before, and the outcome can be foretold with some accuracy: efforts at reform will fail because any meaningful reform would be financially damaging to powerful vested interests, and so national bankruptcy will have to be an essential part of the work-out. Feelings of the electorate on the matter are irrelevant.

I recommend reading the whole thing.

bicycling with small children, and stuff I'll be selling as a result

2009-09-10T23:15:00.004-05:00

My wonderful and understanding wife has given me a pretty long leash during our time together. But now we have three kids, and it will be harder for me to do much of the kind of bicycle rambling that I've done in years past. The fact of the matter is that if I am going to ride, one, two, or all three of the kids will be coming with me most of the time. I rode probably 500 miles in 2008 with my daughter Elissa (then 3 years old) on a Topeak kid seat. We did some pretty good day rides (up to 60 miles) and had a great time. Now this year, Oliver (almost 2 years old) has joined many of our rides, and I pull them both in a Burley. After the first few rides, they really got into a groove back there, and most of the fighting and bickering has subsided. And the Burley, which pulls behind the bike something like a 100-lb parachute, is great for carrying all the equipment that the children require (and great for exercise). Right now, the Burley is attached to the Big Dummy, and Elissa has the option of sitting on the snapdeck and holding onto the stoker bar that is clamped to my seatpost. Of course, then she can't stop worrying that Oliver is getting into her stuff, and before long she wants to get back in the Burley...

The Gitane tandem with kiddie cranks (here and here) has been transformative. Elissa climbs on the back, and we can ride at my normal, untrailered full speed. She has a blast, and her fitness, endurance, and general coordination have improved as a result of the riding we've been doing. And it's fun to ride and listen to her stories, questions, and observations.

Unfortunately, the Gitane, which actually rides really well, is a bit too small for me, and I'd really like to change the gear range. But, it's an old French bike, so I can't easily make the fit better with a new stem (which won't fit without reaming or sanding), and I can't, say, replace the freewheel or chainrings with current equipment, because they're all obsolete. I could spring for a new French-threaded square-taper bottom bracket and a new crankset, but that starts to run into money, and the bike would still be too small.

So, I did the sensible thing and started looking at tandems on craigslist. I found a few that looked suitable and made some inquiries, but I decided to put the whole project on hold until after the baby was born. One of the sellers I contacted was motivated enough to ride his tandem over to the shop on Tuesday, to convince me that I needed to buy it. When I looked over the 1992 Santana Arriva, I couldn't find any blemishes. Even the chain and cassette looked new. I rode it solo around the block, and it was smooth and everything worked great. It had front and rear rack mounts for all the touring and camping I'd like to do next summer. It was the right size and nearly a perfect choice for what I wanted to do with it. We haggled a little on the price, and I ended up buying it for what I consider to be a fair price. I had some buyer's remorse for a few minutes afterward, but then the gears started turning in my malleable mind, and the whole transaction was rationalized and justified in a way that makes sense probably only to me.

Of course, nothing is simple in the game of wheeling and dealing in the bicycle business. The new tandem will be fitted with the kiddie-cranks, an extended stoker stem, and whatever else is necessary to make it rideable for a 4-year-old. I have a set of 48-spoke Phil Wood wheels for my Atlantis, which will be moved to the tandem as an upgrade of the stock wheels, which I will sell or keep as spares. Then I will take my "lightweight" wheels off the Univega and put them on the Atlantis. With lightweight wheels on the Atlantis, the Univega becomes redundant, so I'll probably part it out and sell it. Or put cheaper wheels on it, and sell it. Or convert it to 650A/B, and sell it. While I'm in purge-mode, I think I'll finally put my 3sp up for sale. I never ride it, and I can always dig up some heap if I do the 3-speed tour again.

Welcome Lucy Paige, 9/9/9

2009-09-10T10:06:00.002-05:00

We welcomed our third child into the world yesterday. A healthy, alert baby girl. Now we have three:

what I've been doing lately

2009-09-03T21:59:00.002-05:00

With Thill Kid #3 expected in just a few days now, I've taken to cycling pursuits that don't require me to venture so far from home. This is my main ride lately:

Of course, most of my rides can be measured in meters (sometimes centimeters), and I crash at the end of every attempt.

It's no lazy photography accident that my unicycle is leaning against the dumpster. I lean on the dumpster behind HC as a stabilizing platform from which I propel myself into the expanse of our sometimes car-crowded gravel parking lot. If I'm "on", I get 3 or 4 pedal rotations before I either fall off or get nervous and jump off (because I'm about to fall off). My crowning achievement was a long rightward-curving arc that ended when I nearly crashed into a parked car. That whole practice session was characterized by rightward-curving arcs. I discovered later that my saddle was cocked to the left, which seemed to bias me toward rightward curves. Now that it's back to pointing forward, I can pedal in a more or less straight line. Whether I can turn in a controlled manner remains to be seen.

Just this week, I made real progress. With daily 20-30 minute practice sessions, I went from doing (at best) one-half pedal strokes to fairly regularly keeping the rubber side down for 5-10 meters. On my longer rides, I tend to get nervous about some tiny obstacle, and jump off. But I'm on the cusp of actually riding the thing some actual distance. Just a few more practice days...

Also, I need narrower shoes and tighter underwear.

kiddie-crank tandem

2009-08-24T09:17:00.004-05:00

Some folks asked for more detail on the kiddie-crank tandem shown in the previous post. Somewhat different from most tandems, this bike is powered by a long chain from the captain crank to the rear wheel. The kiddie/stoker-crank clamps onto the stoker seat-tube, with a timing chain that runs to the left captain crank.

The base bike is a 1963(?) Gitane tandem. Aside from being old and French, with all the "quirkiness" that entails, and a little on the small side for me, it's a pretty decent bike for this purpose. The bike is on semi-infinite loan to me from Mark at Bikesmith Design and is co-owned by another well known Twin Cities bicycle-industry personality. Mark has photos from thirty years ago of the bike on a loaded tour with one of his own (now adult) kids.

Mark also fabricated the kiddie-crank attachment and provided the shortened Sugino crankset. The service department at Hiawatha Cyclery put it all together.

Elissa and I have done 3 rides, totalling maybe 20-25 miles.

put the little one to work

2009-08-22T23:14:00.002-05:00

No more free rides.

We haul ass on this thing.

this weekend's camping trip

2009-08-19T10:49:00.004-05:00

Some friends and I loaded up our bikes and headed out to Carver Park this weekend. I rode the Big Dummy, which was loaded with all the creature comforts I felt necessary for the two little kids who rode behind me in the Burley. All together, I estimate my total bike-rig weight to have been around 200 lbs, not including the motor.

Before we left, I had been suffering most of the week with a mysterious illness that first manifested itself as mild body aches, fever, and a general feeling of crappiness. By the time we rolled out Saturday morning, I had lost much of the strength and dexterity in my hands, to the point that even putting on socks and turning doorknobs and scratching itches was difficult-to-impossible. And everything hurt, kinda like the sensation of lactic acid build-up after an overdone weightlifting routine, but the feeling was everywhere, not just in the muscles that are generally used to lift weights. On Friday I went to the doctor, who took several blood samples and ran some tests to see what my problem was. Initial results were inconclusive, and the bigger tests would take a couple days to process, so I decided to see if I could ride a bike over the weekend while I awaited my potentially grim diagnoses. It turns out that riding a bike was the only thing I could do somewhat normally, but I was a bit slower than usual, and had less endurance. But the bottom line was that cycling felt pretty good, and I could do it. Great! I loaded up the bike and kids, as described above, and joined the others for the 35-mile ride out to the campground.

Despite some pretty heavy rain and thunder and my strange affliction, the overnight was a lot of fun. My wife had to come and get Oliver, because he just wasn't ready for his first night sleeping on the ground (and we lost his pacifier somewhere). Elissa found and played with a lot of spiders and other insects, apparently lacking any fear of the creepy-crawlies. She reported later that she just LOVED camping. In the morning, we took our time loading up, and got back on the road to home. At Lake Harriet, Elissa spied a porta-john, and decided that she needed to stop to pee. One look at the revolting mess inside, however, changed her mind. At that point, she'd had enough of the Burley, so she climbed on the back of the Big Dummy and held on to the kid-sized handlebars for the last 7 or 8 miles to home.

By the time we got home, I knew that I was still not 100% healthy, but that I was definitely on the mend. My blood-test results came back negative for the various diseases for which I was tested, and now I feel probably 95% recovered, and somewhat confident/hopeful that what I had was just a virus that had to run its course.

This camping trip was, by my approximation, a fairly easy/routine thing to do, even in my state of less-than-perfect health, and I didn't spend a lot of time stressing over the details. Of course, not everybody is equal when it comes to diving into these supposedly adventurous situations. Patch has authored a thought-provoking discussion about the uproar that ensued because he took his kid's friend for a short, easy ride to the Farmer's Market on his Big Dummy, like he does with his own kids all the time. In general, I think those of us who really get into the "cycling lifestyle" tend to possess a perception of risk that is outside of the norm. Not that we cyclists are a monolithic group, of course. There are plenty of worry-warts and control-freaks who ride bikes, just not as many as among the general population, and they usually spend way too much time thinking about German headlights and the waterproofness of panniers.

no pictures

2009-08-11T00:30:00.003-05:00

Three other dudes and I did this ride on Sunday. It was hot and humid, but tolerable, and we discovered even more miles of great back roads that surround Lake Pepin on the Wisconsin side. I have limited experience cycling in other parts of the country, but I find it hard to believe that better cycling roads exist anywhere. SW Wisconsin and SE Minnesota are as good as it gets. Really.

I brought a camera, but I was too busy sweating my balls off to take any pictures.

The red bike (Curt Goodrich) continues to live up to its purpose as an all-road-surface bike. It rolls up and down gravelly hills in a most confidence-inspiring manner. Along the way, I experienced my third or fourth flat on the rear tire. This time I think I finally found and extracted the culprit: a tiny piece of wire. My fucking troubles are over.

a few things from the bike shop

2009-08-07T12:35:00.002-05:00

There was quite a bit of snickering and some chafing over what some Seattle bike shop guy had to say on craigslist awhile back. While I don't have quite as much anger as this fellow seems to have, and I don't like to bad-mouth my valued customers, I found myself sharing his frustration on most of the points he was making. I've come to terms with the fact that working a retail business means that some of my customers will cause me some degree of inconvenience by, say, all coming in during the same 15-minute period right before we close, all wanting some difficult on-the-spot repair to a bike that's been wholly neglected for a decade. I've decided not to gripe about it though, because this is the career I've chosen, and I can't think of another vocation that I'd prefer.

But I do have one complaint: those who want me to do a repair estimate without seeing the bike. It would be one thing if they somehow didn't know that I can't diagnose a bike's numerous problems based on their imperfect verbal description of the situation, but my general impression is that they're trying to dick me over by getting me to commit to a price before the true extent of the problem can be illuminated. It goes something like this:

1. Phone rings or a person walks in the door.
2. "My bike is making a noise or not shifting correctly or brakes don't work, etc, etc"
3. "Ok, bring it in, and we'll see what can be done to fix it."
4. "How much do you think it will cost?"
5. "I have no idea until I can see the bike to determine what's wrong with it."
6. "How about just a ballpark estimate?"
7. "well, maybe it's something common that I can idly speculate about for you. What kind of bike is it?"
8. "I don't remember. It's about 8 years old. I think it's a 10-speed."
9. "You'll have to bring it in."
10. "I don't want to spend much, can't you just give me an idea of price?"
11. "no more than $1000, but an accurate price estimate is free if you just bring the damned thing in so I can look at it."

About 10% of the time, they actually bring the bike in.

Me in 50 years

2009-08-04T12:15:00.001-05:00

Read here.

post-apocalyptic shopping

2009-08-03T10:36:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I took my Mom and my two kids on a walk around Lake Nokomis. Some old men were fishing at various points around the perimeter of the lake, and my 4yo daughter expressed interest in fishing (she tried it once last summer, and liked it). I decided to get her one of those tiny kids fishing poles, and for some reason, I thought K-Mart would be a good place to buy such an item.

We loaded up the family wagon, and went to the K-Mart in Richfield. The parking lot was mostly empty, at most 8-10 cars in it, several of which likely belonged to employees. Speaking of the parking lot, the asphalt was cracked and uneven, with some tall weeds growing in many of the cracks, and a dumpster in the corner of the lot was in desperate need of being emptied. Stepping into the store squeezed from the recesses of my brain a twinge of remembrance of walking into the K-Mart in Escanaba, Michigan, circa 1982. The decor certainly didn't seem like anything that had been designed more recently than 1982. A sign on the front door warned that K-mart was concerned about saving energy, and they would shut off some of their lights periodically in the name of being "green". We selected from among the rusty steel shopping carts, and searched the aisles, unencumbered by the need to navigate around other shoppers. While we did find a couple items on our shopping list, and at pretty good prices, this particular K-Mart does not carry fishing equipment. We moved to the checkout, where I impulsively picked up a Diet Coke from the cooler nearby. Craving a dose of cold, carbonated caffeine, I was disappointed by my first sip. It was warm, maybe 3 degrees cooler than room temperature. But I decided to go with the local custom and spin a bad situation so it sounds positive: I'm not into drinking warm pop, I'm an environmentalist!

After driving around a bit, we went to the new-ish Super Target not far away. It was quite a contrast to the derelict K-Mart. Everything was clean and new and the cracks and weeds in the parking lot had yet to get a foothold, and, even more noticeably, it was packed with people. We did find a fishing pole for my daughter. With several choices, she selected the Disney Princess pole with the purple reel that lights up when one casts a line.

We are planning to put a significant dent in the crappie population of Lake Nokomis tomorrow.

Jim visits the doctor

2009-07-30T10:03:00.003-05:00

So I ~~had all these weird warts on my ass and genitalia~~ felt like shit and was running a fever, and took off work early and went home to bed. I woke up a few hours later and, from the comfort of the marital bed, thanks to wireless device technology, read this story in the local paper.

The child was probably bitten within Dakota County by a tick infected with Rocky Mountain spotted fever, the state Health Department said. This is Minnesota's first reported fatality from the disease this year, the department said.

About 18 days ago, I did some single-track riding in Dakota County, and afterward discovered a woodtick (aka American Dog Tick) crawling on my leg. Not a big deal at the time, as I've picked up hundreds of ticks in my life. But now I had some of the symptoms, the recollection of the tick, and this news story. My self-diagnosis was complete: I had Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and I probably needed to be hospitalized. When my fever just kept getting worse, I started to think about going to the urgent care clinic. It was getting late (clinic closes at 10 pm), and I finally decided to go, rather than chance it and go to the emergency room at a later hour.

It was my first doctor visit since 2002. That last one was back when I was in school and still covered by my dad's insurance. Actually, I would have been covered, except that my dad just died a few days prior, and his health insurance plan was no longer effective. But I was having coughing fits that were incredibly painful, and it wasn't getting better on its own. That was diagnosed as bronchitis, and I was prescribed some antibiotics, which fixed me up good, and fast. I got the bill sometime later. Several hundred bucks, as I recall. Now I technically have insurance, but the deductible is really high, so most of the time, for these small things, it's like having no insurance at all. Since my wife and I plan to exceed our deductible this year with childbirth, and one kid's trip to the emergency room a few weeks ago, this most recent doctor visit seems almost free!

Anyway, the doctor rolled his eyes when I told him about my self-diagnosis of Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. "That never happens in Minnesota," he said. "I dunno, some kid just died of it in Dakota County, which is the same county where I found that tick..." Anyway, he ruled out RMSF because, while I had some of the symptoms, I lacked some other, more telling features of the disease, namely a rash. Maybe you have H1N1, he said. Ok, great, what now? Quarantine? Finding no sign of respiratory problems, he said that H1N1, while not impossible, was probably not likely. He told me to take ibuprofen and get some rest. I followed his advice and feel much better today.

conflicting messages

2009-07-27T10:42:00.002-05:00

This economic slowdown is really fascinating. In what should be the busy season, we've had some absolutely dead spells at the shop (which seem to have passed, for now). Despite my volatile, sometimes near-zero income stream, I am lucky to have a job, at least, which is not necessarily the case for an increasing number of my friends, relatives, and customers. One person I know has been searching for a job for a month or more, and is willing to prepare fast food and deliver pizzas and clean toilets for minimum wage. His only job offer up to now has been as a door-to-door salespersons for Kirby vacuum cleaners, which was vaguely and somewhat misleadingly advertised as an opportunity with a carpet-cleaning company. He's now networking through a friend of a friend to get a job at a pizzeria.

Yesterday the family and I went to Ikea to buy stuff to re-equip our modest home for more efficient child-storage in anticipation of our new arrival. I have no knowledge about Ikea's sales trends, but it sure seemed like they were doing a brisk business on this particular Sunday afternoon at this particular location. Of course, Ikea with its budget-priced, semi-disposable merchandise may be just the type of company that fares well in a recession.

On the way to Ikea, I saw a plain-looking billboard on the freeway that said simply: "Recession 101: it's a test, not a final." Since there was no indication who paid for that upbeat message, I was immediately cynical. Apparently, this campaign is being carried out on a national scale, and was funded by an "anonymous East Coast donor". Probably a Goldman Sachs exec who would like to delay the raids of pitchfork-wielding villagers for a few more weeks. Anyway, this kind of encouragement rings hollow from any individual who has enough dough to fund a nationwide billboard campaign just for shits and giggles.

On another note, aside from the vagaries of the bicycle business, my economic fortunes are about to improve. We owe less than $300 on the family car, and the interest rate on my student loans just reset to a substantially lower level. Paying off the car and being charged lower interest in student loans will be a net $500-ish monthly savings to my household budget. On the other hand, my health insurance premium just went up about 20%, to roughly double what we were paying 3 years ago. Now our total health care cost, on an annualized basis, rivals the mortgage. If it goes up again in six months, which I fully expect, it will cost more than the mortgage.

I evolve as a mountainbiker

2009-07-17T22:38:00.003-05:00

We don't really have "mountains" in the Twin Cities, but last weekend, I joined some friends for a couple laps around the low-key single-track course of Salem Hills. I rode my 1983 Stumpjumper with rack and fenders, which was kind of a contrast to the dual-suspension bikes that most everybody else was riding. There were other non-suspension bikes in the group, including one fixed-gear, ridden by an extraordinarily loose motherfucker.

Today I asked my favorite bicycle mechanic to remove the fenders and rack, to make the Stumpjumper into more of a pure trail bike. I'm looking forward to hitting the trails again without all the rattling noise.

Anyway, we had the place to ourselves, and with the setting sun over the prairie flowers, there were some great photographic opportunities:

It was a fun time, and I can't wait to get out there again.

riding with finesse

2009-07-13T12:11:00.002-05:00

It's recently come to my attention that not every cyclist rides in a smooth, fluid way. It's also become apparent that the herky-jerky, balls-to-the wall, always-torquing-a-high-gear-out-of-the-saddle, hard-accellerating-hard-braking, pick-a-good-line-be-damned riding style is a primary cause of premature bicycle part failures. Premature part failures are often thought to be related to part quality, as in, if I upgrade from Deore to XT, I won't have this problem. But people who ride like this tend to have a lot of bike problems that other cyclists never experience, regardless of what parts they use.

I've ridden with some cyclists who appear to always be exerting themselves. Part of it is probably a carryover from the burst-like exertions necessary in other sports, like weightlifting or football, and part of it is just that sort of high-energy, spastic personality type that refuses to sit down and spin an easy gear. Whatever the cause, they are always out of the saddle, jerking the bike from side to side, flexing the frame and wheels, and stressing the drive-train at odd angles. Then when it's time to stop, they mash the brakes and decelerate from 25 mph to zero in the shortest possible time. Contrast with the finesse riders who always appear to be taking it easy, yet they finish 600k brevets in under 20 hours, and get 15,000+ miles out of a chain.

A small percentage of the rough-riders keep up on bike maintenance, and often question why bottom brackets seem to last less than 1000 miles, why chainring and cog teeth break off, why the pawls in a freehub shatter, and why their wheels always seem to be loose and grossly out-of-true. The rest just ignore all the grinding, clicking, and creaking noises until the bike is actually unrideable.