Crosswicks Creek at Walnford Mill
27 November 2015
Tom corralled a handful of Slugs today for a ride from Mercer County Park to New Egypt.
I took Kermit, with new bearings in both his rear wheel and cassette body. I knew there was a small hop in the wheel (it's six years old; these things happen) that I should either try to fix myself or have fixed by Michael up at Wheelfine. The truing stand and dishing tool that I used to build this summer's wheel were loaners; I don't have my own wheel-building tools. Yet.
I headed out of the house when the temperature was in the mid-40s. I could feel the hop whenever I slowed down to brake, but at higher speeds it was far less noticeable. By the time I pulled into the parking lot, I was sweating. I took off my hat and stuffed it away. This time of year, it's all about stuffing.
Tom had ridden in too; he was only seconds ahead of me. Yet that didn't stop him, or any of the others, from being shocked that I was ten minutes early. In my defense, I've been early for most group rides this year. People just can't get used to that. Jim says that if I arrive in the nick of time it makes a better story. Sorry, Jim.
Winter Larry was there, and Chris, too. Tom said he didn't have a planned route, but he figured on 45-ish miles.
We were barely out of Windsor when I had to remove my toe warmers.
We were about ten miles in when Chris made the observation that all of us were riding metal bikes. Mine was the only steel frame; the others were titanium. Aside from the Parade of the Havies ride I led last month, today's ride was probably the only other one I've been on this season that has been carbon-free. Larry pointed out towards the end of the ride that we were all child-free as well. And we were all ride leaders. This leads me to the completely unscientific conclusion* that ride leaders are smarter than everyone else.
There was some good autumn sky action on Millstream Road north of New Egypt:
My arm warmers and glove liners came off at the rest stop. I was out of pocket space; my leggings would have to stay on.
Maxx's bike shop is gone, but the rack in the parking lot between the shop and Scott's market remains. Here you can see all of our metallic glory, and also that I'm so much shorter than the rest of the group:
We took Hill Road the easy way, northbound,
We were waiting for the light to change on Route 130 when Tom said he was going to peel off for home on Windsor Road.
"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," Chris said.
"I didn't miss you either," Tom shot back.
I said, "You know you all love each other so much."
"Shut up," said Jim.
"That's shut up, bitch," I corrected.
Larry didn't say anything. I guess he's not accustomed to our banter.
I got home with 60 miles. Kermit's rear wheel was still in one piece, but I decided that I'd best not tempt fate. Today a hop, tomorrow a snapped spoke or a damaged rim. I took a mid-afternoon trip to see Michael.
Rather than bring only the wheel, I put the entire bike into the car. Michael had never seen Kermit, although I'd talked about the bike plenty. He's no fan of Waterford (it's not Italian), but he did admire the paint job.
I told him I might ask for my own truing stand and dishing tool for Christmas. He smiled and said, "That'll be good for my business. Every time someone gets their own stand, it's good for my business." He set to work fixing the wheel. He made it look easy. "It's not," he said. "I'm focused and I'm good at it."
We talked about the wheel I'd built over the summer. He said I'd taken on the most difficult spoke and nipple combination possible. I said that, in the end, I didn't like how the wheel came out. It's not responsive like all the Mavics I have. He wistfully suggested I could re-build it with different spokes to make it snappier. I wistfully suggested that I would do just that should I manage to kill the hub on the trainer over the winter. First, though, I'll need to get a truing stand...
(*Correlation does NOT equal causation, folks!)
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