Welcoming another bike (or two) to the fold...

Folding bikes, of course. 

Since my Dahon Vitesse, although beautiful and a dream to ride, is not suitable for taking on an airplane as a piece of regular checked luggage, I had to start again with my search. This time we decided to go the secondhand route, so we searched Kijiji. By this time, Hubby was convinced that folding bikes were a good idea, so we ended up buying two older Dahon bikes with the sixteen inch wheels. 





Mine, which I have christened "Kleine Fiets," is made of gleaming stainless steel and folds to an unbelievably small size. It came with its own softside carry case. Once I got used to the tiny wheels, it was surprisingly comfortable and fast. One problem, though -- the Sturmey Archer 3-speed internal hub isn't working quite right. I can't shift into the lowest gear. But for riding around town, without any significant hills, it was just fine with only the two gears. I tested it on a 10 km ride and even rode up the little -- but very steep -- hill on the trail behind our house. No problem!

From looking at photos online, we figure this is one of the very early Dahons, from the 1980s.

The other is also a Dahon, subtitled Piccolo, and it is considerably newer. It doesn't have the angled bar that is on the older model and it doesn't fold quite as compactly. Like the older one, it has the Sturmey Archer 3-speed hub. I rode it over the same 10 km route, and found it pretty much the same as the other bike, except that I could shift into all three gears on this one.






So, we were pretty pleased with our finds. For less than $300, we had two folding bikes that rode well and could fit into standard suitcases.

London, here we come. 













But. Of course, there's a but. We decided to see whether we could get the gears fixed on the older bike. So, we rode to a DIY bike shop, which shall remain nameless. My understanding of this place was that there would be people there who would show us how to fix the bike. However, when I got there, the super-zealous guy said, "Wow, this is a beautiful bike!" He popped it up on a stand and started working on it. Next thing I knew, the gears were in worse shape than before. I thanked him, paid the minuscule fee and left. The bike was still rideable, but the gears were harder to shift than before and I still had only the two gears.

Oh well, I thought. It'll be OK. But then when we were trying to decide which suitcases to use, Hubby took the back rack and fenders off the Piccolo 9to make it smaller), and when he reassembled everything, something was wrong with the rear wheel. Oops!

Just proves the truth of one of my favourite sayings: if it's not broken, don't fix it.

Sunday afternoon ride

I wanted to check out the new brakes on my Vita. Bike Shop Guy changed the brake pads and cables, after telling me that he didn't have the regular brake pads in stock. Instead he had clear brake pads, which come complete with a warning that they are for "experienced tricks and trials riders" only. Right.

"They're kind of noisy," he warned me. Well, I thought they'd be, you know, a little bit noisy. I rode the bike home from the bike shop and they were a little bit noisy. Not too bad.

BUT -- yesterday I decided to go for a ride around town, on the trails and streets. It was such a nice day that I ended up riding 33 km. I had to brake pretty often -- for family groups, dog-walkers, stop signs, etc. And the brakes were not a little bit noisy -- they were embarrassingly noisy. Screechy. Ear-popping. When the cute guy in the orange shirt gave me a big appreciative smile upon hearing my brakes as he ran past, I knew for sure that they were too much. I'll head over to the bike shop on Tuesday and ask Bike Shop Guy to change them. Maybe we can use the clear ones on my winter bike.

Another patch of Arctic Coltsfoot -- they are already going to seed...

 ... and the wild strawberries will soon be in flower.

I love my winter bike ride!

It felt so good to get back on the bike this week. I Parked-and-Walked last Monday, but because of the heavy snow and my fear of driving in bad road conditions, I took the bus the rest of the week.

At 4:30 Sunday afternoon I looked at my bike and saw a flat tire. In my tire-tube box, I had tubes for every tire except the one that was flat, so I raced over to Canadian Tire (on foot) and bought a tube. Came back, changed the tube, used my new birthday bike pump to inflate it. Whew! Glad I saw the flat before the store closed! And thank you, CT, for carrying a wide selection of bike tubes even in the "off season."

Monday was a nice day and I resumed normal programming: drive into the west end, park my car and ride the last 7-8 km to downtown.

Nervous about the possibility of an icy descent into the ravine from Crestwood, I've been riding through the city instead of the River Valley. To say there was lots of snow would be an understatement.

I didn't think the roads and sidewalks could ever be worse than they were last winter, but guess what? Somehow the city workers have managed to outdo themselves:

try to ride through this to get onto the bridge!

a nice strip of ice on the other bridge

thank you, kind snow remover, for heaping the snow onto the sidewalk!

 

My Sherlock Holmes tendencies tell me that I am not the only winter bicycle commuter out there:

It always cheers me to see a multitude of tracks in the fresh snow. But it also raises the question: why does anyone doubt that people ride their bikes in the winter? 

How do they think those tracks get there?

Monday's ride, which involved a fair bit of walking anyway, ended abruptly at the 116 Street/100 Avenue intersection when my back rack came loose. I could tell that something was not right, so I stopped to check. The bolt holding the bracket in place had come apart and the rack was attached only by the wheel supports. 

I walked the remaining 9 blocks, carrying my pannier. 

Before beginning my walk, I had a fun encounter with a cute little guy on his way to school. He stopped, studied my bike and the recalcitrant rack, and said: "That's not going to stay on." I agreed. He studied my pannier. "Is that a backpack?" he asked in a bright, optimistic voice. I told him no, but at that moment I wished it was. He nodded sagely and continued to watch as I unhitched the pannier, assured him I didn't have far to go and started on my way. How sweet to have someone commiserate in my time of distress. I see a great future for that kid.

After work I stopped in at MEC and asked for emergency help. 

"You need a new rack," the bike shop guy told me. I was ready to do whatever would get me back on the road, so I told him to go ahead. "We can't do it today. We're booked up until next week."

My disappointed face must have had an impact, because he took another look.

"Well, maybe I can fix this," he said. I smiled pleadingly. He examined it more closely. "Yeah, sure, I can fix this," he continued. I smiled happily.

He fixed it. He didn't charge me. I was happy and would have whistled all the way back to the car except that I can't whistle.

foiled again!

Hubby and I had to go into the city to show some prospective tenants our rental house. I wanted to put on a few more cycling kilometers, so I said I'd ride in and meet him at the house, down near Southgate Mall. 

I got about halfway -- 16 km, as far as the Winterburn exit -- before I got a flat tire, my first since the spring. The culprit seemed to be a miniscule piece of glass. If I'd had a pump with me, I think I could have inflated the tire enough to keep going, as the air was leaking slowly, but I didn't have anything. So I called Hubby and he left a few minutes early (he was going to leave soon anyway) and picked me up. While I waited for him, I took off the wheel and removed the tube. I was pretty disappointed that I couldn't finish my ride. Oh well...

In the evening I inserted a new tube. I know how to do this now, but I can't say it's easy. I've done it about four or five times (different bikes) and I even taught Son #5 how to do it, but it's always a long time in between, so each time I sort of have to learn all over again. Also, I've concluded that bicycle hand pumps are my nemesis. I have a new one that came with my road bike, and last night I more or less figured out how to use that, so maybe it will be easier from here on. After I (with Hubby's help) put the wheel back on the bike, the brakes weren't working properly. I had to try to remember all I'd learned about brakes when I changed the brake pads a few weeks ago. I found the problem and tightened the screw, and all is good.

why you should plan ahead

No classes on Fridays. This means that on Friday mornings I can go for a long bike ride. Usually. Today I didn't start on my way until 12:45. Here's why.

I got dressed in my cycling shorts and jersey, took my water bottle out of the freezer, put on my gloves, and then at the last minute decided that I wanted to set up my computer on Milly, my road bike. I'd ordered a second hardware kit for my computer from MEC and it came a couple of days ago, and I had it all ready to go. Or so I thought.

I studied Beatrice, my bike that has the original computer the boys gave me for Mother's Day, and carefully copied the layout.

Cadence sensor and speed sensor in their respective places on the chain stay. True to form, I attached them backwards the first time, so had to snip the ties and reattach them correctly. Cadence magnet on the crank and speed magnet on the spoke. After checking that everything lined up just right, I turned the crank backwards, as instructed in the manual, and looked expectantly at the computer's readout. Nothing. I rotated the rear wheel, as instructed in the manual. Nothing. I moved things about slightly and tried again. Still nothing. I tilted the sensors at slightly different angles. Again nothing. I couldn't really just leave it as is and go for a ride, as I had the zip tie ends sticking out and didn't want to snip them off until I was sure I had everything positioned correctly.

Hubby was working, so I was on my own. I tried everything I could think of, and finally I got so fed up I rode to the bike shop (with the zip tie ends flapping) and asked for help.

The two Bike Shop Guys looked it over to make sure everything was in the right place. They moved things about slightly. They tilted the sensors at slightly different angles. They slid the magnets up and down. They took the computer out of its holder and held it closer to the sensors. Still absolutely nothing. Finally the younger guy decided to try inserting new batteries -- et voila! It worked! Turns out MEC sent me dead batteries. I was a little ticked about that, but the Bike Shop Guy said it is pretty common, so I guess I should instead consider myself lucky that I got good batteries the first time around.

I would have started my ride straight from the bike shop, but I'd forgotten my sunglasses and sunscreen, so I had to stop off at home first, and finally started riding at, as mentioned above, about 12:45. I had great plans to do a little adventuring to the southwest of town, but wanted to get some hill climbing in first, so I started by riding north to Airport Road. While I was up there, I felt I should show my face at the seniors' home, so I headed east. As I approached the home, I saw a man wearing a reflective vest and panama hat, walking along the highway. I've seen him before; he lives at the seniors' home, and apparently this is how he gets his exercise: walking on the shoulder of a busy highway, where the speed limit is 100 km/hour. I gave him a big smile and a friendly hello, receiving a brief nod in reply.

After turning around at the seniors' home, I rode west and spotted the same man, this time at the airport turnoff. Looks like he walks there and then turns around to go back. I gave him another big smile as I rode past. Whenever I see him, I feel sorry for him that he doesn't have a better place to walk, but I sure have to tip my helmet to him for making the effort to get out.

I rode up the Big Hill and all the way to Secondary 779. The plan was to ride down to Highway 16A and then head west to where it turns into Parkland Drive and let the exploring begin. However, by this time, the southeast wind had picked up to such an extent that riding south, even though it is mostly downhill, was rather unpleasant.  The heavy crosswind meant that I was struggling to stay balanced and the headwind caused my pace even on the downward slopes to be depressingly slow. It was getting late; I had ridden almost 50 km, and I was getting hungry. After all, I had eaten breakfast several hours ago, expecting to start riding at about 10:30. So when I reached 16A, I turned to the east and rode back home.

My distance was about 52 km. My average speed ended up at 27.5 km/hour. It had been as high as 28, but the wind took care of that.

It was a gorgeous day, about 20 C and sunny. My photos don't do justice to the beauty of the effects of the sunlight on this freshly mowed (?) field, but when I saw it, I drew a breath and had to stop and admire.

I saw only one other cyclist, wearing pink, but I think it was a guy. This was a Very Serious Person, leaning into the wind with the help of aero bars and not deigning to even glance my way, let alone return my smile and wave. I know cycling can be a serious sport, but if it doesn't make you so happy that you want to smile and wave at everyone, I can't help but think you're missing something.

I have great plans for tomorrow -- I'll start out by riding to Parkland Drive and let my fancy take me from there. And later in the day, I plan to ride into the city, as we'll be showing our rental property to some prospective tenants. This time I want to find that trail that climbs up from Fort Edmonton Park to the 76 Avenue bike lane. I am eager to try riding Milly up that killer hill.

backing and forth

The title of this post comes from an email I received from one of my students, a sweet older man from South Korea. He was telling me about his wife's mother, who had been very sick, then got better unexpectedly, then got sick again -- in his words, backing and forth all the time. My sympathy was sincere: in the two and a half years before she died, my mom also did plenty of backing and forth, so I know how hard that is on everyone involved.

Yesterday I did some backing and forth myself.

I began by riding Beatrice to the bike shop, intending to have the clipless pedals removed and replaced with regular pedals. I expected the replacement pedals to cost about $10-15. Was I in for a surprise! To get anything of decent quality, I'd have to spend at least $50 and to get the ones that last forever, I could spend more than $100. Upon hearing this, I told the guy that I would rather buy dual-purpose (clipless/platform) pedals for my road bike and put the pedals currently on my road bike on Beatrice. (I didn't call her Beatrice in front of him.) I also wanted a back rack mounted on Beatrice, so I left her there and walked back home (3 km) to get Milly, my road bike.

I rode Milly to the bike shop, discussed a few things, including the new brake pads and the front brakes, with the guy (he was quite impressed with my installation of the new rear brake pads) -- and made arrangements: they would take the pedals off Milly and put them on Beatrice and outfit Milly with the dual-purpose pedals, which were only $47.00. They would also adjust Milly's saddle, raising it a tad and leveling it. I was pretty happy with this and upon being told that it would take about half an hour, I went for a walk on the nearby trails, stopping in at the library to renew my library card.

When I went back to the bike shop, both of my bikes were ready. I rode Milly home, testing out the clipless pedals -- they are great -- and then walked back again to pick up Beatrice. At this point, I remembered the cadence magnet I had requested, so I asked about that. They had one that actually straps onto the crank, a much better arrangement than my old magnet, so I was happy with that, too. The guy even strapped it on for me and checked to make sure it worked.

I then rode Beatrice home, for a total of more than 20 km of backing and forth.

It was a hot day: 29 degrees and humid. My original plan was to go for an afternoon bike ride after I'd finished with all the adjustments, but after all the backing and forth I was so hot that I copped out.

Another walk in the evening, just after sunset, with Hubby and Maggie, brought my grand total for the day to 26.5 km. A relaxing day, but a lot accomplished. More than just backing and forth.

new brakes

Yesterday -- the last day of August. Summer coming to an end; fall approaching.

In many ways the summer seemed long and drawn out -- in a good way -- but still I feel like it is ending much too soon.

Yesterday Hubby had to do some work at our rental house and he wanted to go out to eat afterwards. So I decided to ride Milly into the city and go to United Cycle to get the brakes checked. The brakes worked fine, but made a funny noise. I don't like funny noises when I'm riding, so I thought I should ask about it.

I rode on 16A, as usual, and took the Henday to 87 Avenue. From 87 Avenue there are several different multi-use paths that lead to overpasses crossing the Whitemud. I took the first such trail and crossed on this bridge. The sky looks so threatening in this photo, it's hard to imagine that it really was a beautiful warm day, and it seemed sunny most of the time.

After crossing this bridge, I rode on 76 Avenue and on the 69 Avenue bike lane into Wolf Willow neighbourhood. There is another multi-use path here that I've taken before that leads to the Rio Terrace neighbourhood. Last time I ended up on a path with a very steep downhill and then an equally steep gravel uphill. This time I ended up on a fully paved path with almost no hill. I'm not sure how that happened, but it was a pleasant surprise. I didn't have a hope of riding up the gravel path on a skinny-tired road bike, so I was happy to avoid it.

The on-street bike route through Rio Terrace leads to the pink bridge that crosses the Whitemud. This bridge begins with some stairs, so you can either pull your bike on the side ramp or pick it up and carry it. Milly is so light that it was easier for me to pick her up. I was going down as two fit-looking roadies were going up, using the ramps, and their jaws dropped when they saw me pick up my bike and sail down.

They would not have been so impressed on the other side, where there is a steep climb up to the street. Two little kids were coming down on their bikes, riding side by side and leaving me no choice but to stop and let them go. When I tried to ride up the hill after that, I couldn't get going, and had to walk my bike.

The Pink Bridge

From this point, it's a short ride on a quiet street with a great view to another set of stairs leading down to the Quesnell Bridge trail. Again I carried Milly down with ease.

I rode across the Quesnell Bridge -- a first -- and then rode around aimlessly for a bit as I tried to find the multi-use path that goes up to meet the 76 Avenue bike lane. It was hopeless; I had no idea where that path was. Finally, I settled on riding up Fox Drive -- another first -- and a surprisingly nice ride thanks to the bike/bus/taxi lane. I took a wrong turn, however, going right on Belgravia, and because of the University farm, found myself trapped into riding south all the way to 51 Avenue.

At 51st I turned left and headed all the way over to 106 Avenue, where the bike lane makes it a fairly easy ride up to United Cycle. I say "fairly easy" because this bike lane is pitted with potholes, crevices, cracks and other assorted hazards. It's hard to believe the city thinks they're doing cyclists a favour by using a road like this for a bike route.

The guy at United Cycle said my brakes were basically okay, but that maybe I should replace the back brake pads. When I said I'd like to try to do it myself, he gave me some quick instructions (it was busy) and assured me that it was easy. So I went to the parts department and asked for the brake pads. Surprised that they were only $5.00. I purchased them and rode back down to our rental house to meet Hubby. While there I took a look at the brakes and realized that Parts Guy had given me the wrong brake pads. After the work was done, we went back to United Cycle and asked for the right ones. First Parts Guy said, "Oh, those will work." Fortunately, Second Parts Guy stepped in and said, "No, they won't." He found the right ones for me (they were $30.00 instead of only $5.00!) and showed me how to put them on. First Parts Guy had Justin Bieber-ish hair, hanging down over his eyes; maybe he couldn't see the package contents properly!

We went on to Kebab Express, where one of my former students works, for a tasty Turkish meal, and then headed home. I googled a YouTube video of instructions on changing brake pads. To tell the truth, I watched three videos in all, then set to work. It was pretty easy. It would have been easier if I wouldn't have taken off the old shoe, set it down on the floor and then proceeded to put it back on again. Good thing I noticed!

a rainy day

Today it rained almost all day. I took advantage of a break in the clouds to go for a spin on my "girl" bike, Bonnie Blue. I rode to the library to drop off some books,then on to this lovely park, which has two big ponds. 

In recent years they have been almost dry most of the time, but now they are full again -- I guess after a winter of non-stop snow and the recent rain, water is plentiful. I am a total sucker for ponds -- I love the cattails, the ducks and geese, the way the light reflects off the water, the red wing blackbirds...

 
From here I rode to Superstore where I bought our first cherries of the year. They're from California, but no less delicious for that. Looking forward to the B.C. ones, though.

And in preparation for the week's commute, I attached a front fender to Miranda. Hubby did help me a little -- I had trouble removing the front tire, so he lent his strength, and then he showed me how to use the Allen wrench to tighten the bolt. Otherwise, I did it myself and it seems like a mighty fine job. I guess tomorrow I'll find out for sure. I have the Allen wrench tucked into my frame pack, just in case.

Saturday a.m.

Another gorgeous day -- blue sky with picture-perfect clouds. 16 degrees. Some wind, but from the west, meaning easy riding in all other directions. 

I almost thought I wouldn't get to ride today. I started out and, as always, made a precautionary test of my clipping-out skills at the first stop sign. Twisted my right foot to the outside. Nothing happened. Tried again. Still nothing. Panicked. 
Realized I could use my left foot. 

Twisted my left foot and clipped out. Whew! Avoided a fall.

Although I was glad this worked OK for that stop, I was a little concerned. First, why wasn't the right pedal working as usual? And, if I couldn't use the right pedal, would I remember to use the left at every stop? Doubtful. 

I rode a little further, trying several times to clip out of the right pedal, but with no success. I turned around, rode back home and Googled "adjusting tension on clipless pedals." After reading some instructions and watching a short video, I searched for the right size Allen wrench. Following the instructions, I turned each screw three clicks to the left, then took a little spin down the block. I still had trouble clipping out, so I came back home and gave the screws a couple more turns. This time when I took a test ride, it was okay. 

So I pocketed the Allen wrench, just in case, and started out again. The right clip still seemed a little tight, but I was able to clip in and out without incident for the whole 53 km.

There is one property I pass quite often that always intrigues me. 

On the wrought-iron gate is a sign: 

No Trespassing. 

Phone xxx-xxx-xxxx for admission. 

Guard dog on duty.

Of course, if I were in an action movie, this would be the home of a drug baron or a gun-runner or someone with an equally irregular lifestyle, and I would be an undercover cop, pretending to be an avid cyclist, riding past to keep an eye on the situation.

Still, that sign makes me want to stage an accident -- à la Agatha Christie's Why Didn't They Ask Evans? -- so that I can find out just what that dog is guarding and just why the need for such tight security. Many of the other homes along that road have gates, too, but they are open, apparently with nothing to hide.