I've gone a bit quiet...

I've just realised that I should make a note here. I'm mainly making posts now over on posterous.

Nothing against blogger, but posterous has a really great method of allowing you to email pictures and videos as an attachment, which it then automatically converts into a blog post and posts it to twitter.

For those of you that subscribe to an RSS feed (I know of at least one - hi Pete) this is the link you might want to save in addition to this one.

Bike project - update two

I've had a polite request from Pete to blog updates on how the bike project is going, with photos.

Unfortunately I'm a bit useless when it comes to photos. I only have my camera phone and if I'm working with gunky hands it's all a bit difficult. But I'll see what I can do.

So far I've split the old rusted chain and removed it from the bike, and then joined a nice new silver one on. And then wondered whether I should have waited until I'd serviced the bottom bracket. Never mind.

I've also managed to completely strip down the rear wheel hub, clean it up and regrease it.

This involves using a chain whip to remove the cassette. If you think about how a bike works, when you peddle the chain moves the wheel and you go forward.

When you stop pedalling.... well you still go forward. The cassette spins on the axle and allows the wheel to continue to rotate. Magic.

This causes problems when you need to service all those bits at the back, as to unscrew things you generally turn them anti-clockwise (lefty-loosey, righty tighty is the way I always remember this).But when you do this on a cassette, it simple rotates around, because that's what it's designed to do.

The chain whip is simply a gurt big tool with a few chain links attached that you wrap around the cassette to hold it still, whilst you throw all your weight behind the other spanner and try and undo the top of the cassette. With a bit of manly grunting. But once it gives, it's easy to remove the cassette from the wheel - it just slides off. Makes it beautifully easy to clean too. The grimy and in places rusted cassette now looks almost brand new again. The wonders of degreaser and a brush.

As for the hub, that's the mucky part. I think my brother-in-law had cleaned it soon before he passed away (knowing Neal he'd done it regularly), but you could still tell that it had been sitting there in all weathers. Took all the parts out and gave them a good clean.

It was quite an eye-opener. In my 'bike career' I'd heard many of the parts of the hub referenced, but never seen them. Now I was looking at the bearings and cones. The cone is simply a small nut that requires a thin spanner to work with them.

I might get a gun to put grease into the cups (where the bearings sit) next time - just squeezing it out of the tube was a bit of a nightmare.

I've rebuilt the wheel and it all seems to be moving around happily. Of course the acid test will be when the whole bike is put back together - which may be some time off yet.

A new project

Some of you may know that just over two years ago my brother-in-law was killed in a work accident. He left many things behind. He was a hands on person, one of those people who seemed to have one of everything. If you don't believe me, check out his shed at my parents' house. It's almost like it was the day he left for work for the final time. Nobody has ever really had the heart or inclination to sort through it all.

One of the things he left was a bike.

Unfortunately, since he died, this has sat outside in all weather and seasons.

A couple of weeks ago, witnessing my sudden love of cycling, my mother suggested that I should take it on and bring it back to working order. She said that she would prefer that to it sitting there and rusting.

I didn't really act on the suggestion.

Why? Well, the reasons are a little silly. Inside, I was worried that it was too much. I've done some really light mechanical work on my bike, but nothing too heavy. I didn't want to take it on and never get anywhere with it. As stupid as it sounds, I wasn't sure if me starting and never finishing it was more of an insult to my brother-in-law's memory than it sitting in my parents' garden and rusting.

But the other day I was thinking about it and figured that I was being stupid. Worst case scenario was that if I took it on and did get stuck I could simply ask someone else for help. I could take it on as a project to learn as I went. I could go at my own pace, because when I'm working on my own bike there is a pressure not to get stuck as I will want to use it again the next day.

So I went to pick it up, and discovered that when my mum said 'bike' what she meant was a tank. It's a full suspension mountain bike with tyres that possibly came off a monster truck. I'm guessing he used to ride it around the quarry he used to work. It's also got hydraulic brakes, which adds a layer of complication for a novice.

When I got it home I googled some of the parts and found that rather a lot of money has been spent on this bike so far. The forks are Marzocchi Bombers, and prices seem to vary between £400 and (gulp) £1200. Not sure which exact model it is. 

The brakes are Hope M4's. Cost is around £150. Oh, and did I mention that's just for the front? If you want the rear brake too (and I would wholeheartedly recommend it) it'll cost you around an extra £120.

So what was going to be a little side project is now a little side project on what appears to be a very expensive bike. It doesn't really add pressure for me, but I do feel an extra little sense of duty to return it to a decent working order as he obviously cared a lot about it. I can't see myself riding it often, but consider how hands on my brother-in-law was, and how he liked to keep things in remarkable working order, the least I can do is stop it rusting out in the rain.

So far I've taken the old chain off (rusted beyond repair) and started to strip the rear wheel down for a good clean and regrease. The project has just begun.

Just a random story

As some of you might know, I currently drive part of the way to work, park up in a little village and cycle up to the main road and into the city. It's about five and a half miles and avoids some of the bigger hills I would have to go up if I cycled the full 10.5 miles to work. We don't have any showers at work and I don't want to turn up too uncomfortable for the work day ahead.


As I'm conscious about being that bloke who parks outside your house every day and gets in the way, I park outside the village pub car park, on a long straight piece of road that doesn't block the traffic much. There are houses opposite but they've got plenty of room to get in and out of their drives.

Today I got back to my car and a woman jogged out of one of the houses opposite shouting "excuse me".

Instantly I was expecting the worse. I was expecting to have to point out although yes I was leaving my car there all day, I wasn't blocking access to her property, I was parking on the road and at least I was better than people who use it as a rat run.


But I also knew that if it came down to aggro, it would just be easier to park somewhere else from now on.

How wrong I was. She was checking if I was planning to park there as usual on Monday as they were having some work done on their drive and the road immediately outside the house, and she was worried that one of the works vehicles might hit my car. However, from Tuesday everything would be back to normal.

Basically, she was just being really nice.

She was also really interested in who the random person was who she had started observing parking there and cycling in - she found it hard to believe that I was cycling into the city from there. We had a nice five minute chat about it all.

So yes, I know this is all a bit random but I drove off with a smile on my face, it was nice to know that I wasn't getting in the way and one of the locals was actually looking out for my return this evening to give me a 'heads up'.


A good way to start the weekend.

Legs are funny things

"I just didn't have the legs today".

Often when a professional cyclist has a bad day, and the TV crews dash up to them and ask them what the hell went wrong, often you'll hear the cyclist reply that they just didn't have the legs. To us mortals that don't dedicate our lives to cycling, and just head out for little jollies in the countryside it's a weird thing. Surely a well trained athlete will not face such problems as "ooh my legs feel a bit tired".

But today I went there. Out for a group ride from Bath to Midsomer Norton and back to Bath. I'd been looking forward to it for ages. My time back on the bike has been a story of self-challenges. Will I be able to get to this place on the bike? Will I be able to get to that place? And a few weeks ago I knew that by October I wanted to be fit enough to ride this route, something that several months ago I would have laughed at the prospect of doing.

And because of all those mini challenges, because of the fact that I completed a 28 mile charity cycle ride the weekend before, because I had have been feeling the magical effects of cycling the last couple of hilly miles into work most days I was pretty confident I would fly around and enjoy it.

It didn't quite go to plan.

It wasn't the weather. I've cycled in worse. But a couple of miles in, traversing the hilly lanes of Somerset that I have got to know really well lately, I didn't feel right. Even minor inclines were requiring a lot of effort. I was shifting a lot lower than I would be expecting to for hills, and yet the legs still felt lumpy. Stiff. Tired.

I just didn't have the legs.

At the midway point we were about a mile from home. It just wasn't happening. When the group pulled up I explained that I was going to have to bail. Suddenly here I was, admitting defeat, suddenly knowing what it meant to not be "quite right" on one random day.

Maybe it was the illness I had that kept me off work for two days last week. But then I had cycled into work fine on my return. Maybe the usual breakfast just didn't have the same effects. I just didn't know what it was. But I knew I could sit down, grab a shower, and then get Lucie to give me a lift back into Bath to pick the car up.

The ride leaders were kind enough to offer to slow up some more, to pass on some energy drinks, but mentally I was done. I was near home, felt like crap, and I knew there were some hilly challenges yet to come. It was a lethal combination.

We pedalled off, I turned off to the left whilst the group carried on, and suddenly I was alone, annoyed with myself. Damn legs.

I pulled over again, took my rain jacket and gloves off and pedalled off slowly. Home was less than a mile away. And unbelievably I felt a million times better at the end of that diversion. Suddenly I felt right as rain again. I briefly stopped at home and then decided to continue. After all, I needed to pick the car up. So back onto the saddle and I carried on.

And I felt great.

I really don't know what it was all about. Maybe I'd just got too hot in the rain jacket and gloves. In keeping rain out there is a trade off that moisture can't get out. Maybe I'd just overcooked it in it. It wasn't put back on for the rest of the route. Lesson for the future.

As it happens, I even ended up doing a couple of miles more as I took a wrong turn. The second half of the route was hilly, but I quite happily got up them all with no problems. Legs fine, breathing normally. Not even out of breath.

RunKeeper is awesome for tracking my cycling and progress, but it doesn't always tell the whole story of a ride. Today's story is one of tired legs, internally being beyond frustrated, a respite and then feeling as if I could have cycled all day. Legs are funny things.

http://runkeeper.com/user/Chutzpah84/activity/17700827

Please mind the gap

Drivers. They do like to pass awfully close don't they?

There you are, plodding along at a nice steady 10mph, not holding anyone up and staying near the kerb. But even if there is no traffic coming the other way there's always the odd car that seems to be attempting to see just how close they can get their wing mirror to your right elbow.

Hell, I was zipping down a long hill at speed this morning in a 30mph zone. It's hard to hear many things at that speed, but the sound of an over-excited car engine normally breaks through. Which was why I wasn't overly surprised when I saw a white van whiz past me at speed. When I got to the office and uploaded my route from RunKeeper I was able to check just how fast I was going.

29.7mph.

Not quite sure how much faster he wanted me to go. I've discovered that at 30mph your eyes start watering a bit, so whilst going above that isn't impossible (I'm still feathering the brakes at that speed) it's not quite the same as when you have a windscreen in front of your eyes.

Plus I do want to be able to slow/stop if some traffic suddenly appears in front of me. I only have a cheap bike at the moment you know. The "cyclist welded to the back of a car" look isn't a good one I'm sure, as if the fluorescent yellow jacket wasn't enough of a fashion statement.

Yesterday I saw a lady riding a bike with a stick protruding from her rear wheel, clearly designed to encourage cars to leave a larger gap when overtaking. However, I couldn't help but feel that the fact that it had a big circle on the end merely made it a handy target to aim for for the impatient driver. Still, better than your elbow I suppose.

The only solution I've found that is working to protect me from car carnage is my road positioning. I've been reading many excellent sources on the internet to improve my riding in traffic, one of the best being on the CycleChat forum here. I'm not a member of the forum but have found many of the threads interesting, and that guide, a collection of experienced posters' advice, was an easy and interesting read.

Moving in the centre of the road at key points to claim my right to that patch of tarmac definitely reduces the number of times that a car tries to squeeze past in a gap that just won't work, and I've also found frequently glancing back helps. I don't make eye contact per se, but the effect is almost like I do.

It doesn't always work though. Just the other day the traffic lights on the road ahead turned red. I was fast approaching the queue of slowing cars and moved out towards the centre of the lane to prevent cars behind me getting any mad ideas and trapping me on their inside. I could see oncoming traffic and the road wasn't all that wide so didn't fancy filtering down the outside. I just slowed and was happy to wait where I was for the traffic to move again.

As I reached the boot of the car in front, I became aware of a companion on my right hand side. Hello there Mr Vauxhall Vectra. Despite there being a queue of stationary traffic in front of us, and despite me being in the centre of the lane, he decided that he really really really had to overtake that cyclist. Now. Right now. And when he suddenly realised it wouldn't work, he just sat there, blocking the oncoming traffic and looking at me sheepishly.

I really am sure that some drivers don't look beyond my backside. Which in itself is a little worrying. I don't look that good in my cycle shorts do I?

Picture courtesy of Pawel Loj.

An ode to the padded cycle short

What's the biggest thing I've learnt so far about cycling?

That you can have my padded cycle shorts when you pry them from my cold dead hands.

Padded cycle shorts probably don't fall into the necessity column. After all, one of the things I love about cycling is that you can jump onto your bike in practically any type of clothes and just go. How comfortable you'll be after a couple of miles is another matter though....

So no, not necessities. But without them I don't think I'd be as comfortable in the saddle.

Before we get to the jokes, let's make something clear. They are not lycra shorts. I have nothing against lycra shorts, but I feel that I should lose a few more pounds before inflicting the world with that sight. 

No, what they are is a wonder of invention. They are a set of shorts with a beautifully designed padded inner part, along with a band across each thigh to stop all the innards moving around. And even better, they look to all intents and purposes like normal shorts, and not that I'm wearing a nappy.

They are made for people that want to head out and be comfortable whilst doing it, without looking like they are Bradley Wiggins after letting himself go a bit.

So let's think about this. They keep you comfortable. They stay where they should. They don't look ridiculous. They're fit for purpose. In a world where so many things are poorly designed, that's a whole lot of win.

And if you're still wondering why I'm gushing here over a simple set of shorts, with words like "wonder" and "beautiful", well you do 20 miles on poorly tarmacked country lanes and then see if you use the same language as me.