Seersucker Social June 12 in DC

I've been neglecting my blog for a few months while dealing with health, weather, and business, and I've had a nasty cold for the past week, so here this is, almost last minute. 

The Dandies and Quaintrelles, who brought us the wonderful and wildly successful DC Tweed Ride last November 15, are having their second event, the Seersucker Social, on Saturday, June 12, starting at 3:30 pm, with a reception afterwards at the ride destination Hillwood Estate. More than 450 people attended the Tweed Ride. Registration is free for the ride itself and $20 for the after-ride party--including food and drink. Having spent the week resting up and recovering, I plan to be there with my Raleigh Roadster. 

A VASA Difference

Time flies whether you're having fun or not. So it's been weeks since this event that I'm only writing up now. The Embassy of Sweden hosted a ride on March 7th, in celebration of a famous Swedish ski race and festival, Vasaloppet. How could a Volvo-driving, IKEA-shopping cycling nut like me resist? Only thing was, the start time for the first ride was (ugh) 7:30 a.m. I planned on going on the second ride at 8:30, and set my alarm for 5.

Three rides were offered: 56-mile out into Montgomery County, 31-mile along the Potomac shore, and 15-mile through downtown DC. I thought the 31-mile ride looked both interesting and manageable for my state of tune. However, while I did indeed get up and get ready, I got halfway to the start and realised I'd left my wallet at home. Then I realized I needed a layer to keep out the wind. So it took me three starts to get there and it was 8:45 when I arrived. 

I had signed up for this with no real idea of what the turnout would be--and this is only about my fifth time on a group ride of any kind. A solid wall of bicycles greeted me at the start. I heard later that there were 650 people on this ride, and most of them seemed to have opted for the DC route. At the sign-in table, they told me I was welcome to ride the 31-mile route, but I'd be following the group. I figured that I could always ride by myself, and I'd ride the 15-miler with the group that was there. I had thought, looking at the route map, that it would be too much like my recent urban rides around Arlington, and not enough of a workout. However, it was an interesting route, and it was enough of a ride for the shape I was in, especially when I added on getting to the start and home, which was another 15 miles or more.

At the end, the Embassy served us warm blueberry soup. It was a perfect after-ride refreshment for a chilly morning. I took a few pictures; they show a lot fewer people than were there because I took them late in the day when many riders had already left. 

While the majority of the riders were on upright bikes, there were several recumbents and one or two other trikes (I know a Catrike was on the ride and I saw a Greenspeed afterwards). In conversation with one of the recumbent bike riders, I mentioned this blog and gave him the URL--and found out he reads it. I'd never met him before. It was a great moment. Sometimes I have no idea whether anyone's really out there. Nice to find out someone is. 

After the Blizzard, A Trike Ride

The region has just had a blizzard even bigger than the one in December. It snowed here from Friday midmorning to Saturday late afternoon, with reports of more than 30 inches in some places. Having been indoors for about 24 hours, I ventured out for a look around this evening. My intention was merely to get outside in the fresh air and see the snow from closer than my third-floor windows. I had no intention of riding. Then I had a look at my car, barely recognizable under the snow. Then back to the garage. A lane had been plowed through the parking area, leaving a layer of snow and ice where the plow had been, and a snow dam about three feet across and knee deep in front of the garage doors. I opened the door. I looked at the Trice. I looked at the snow. I kicked snow out of the way in a path just 30 inches across (the width of the Trice QNT) and rolled it out. Put up the flag, light the lights and set off down the parking lot. One trip down and back was enough to put a grin on my face and to show that while it was possible to ride on this stuff, it didn't take much for the rear wheel to lose traction. It was time to try out an idea I'd had during the previous snow rides. Tire chains for bikes have been made from time to time, but they were never a complete success and none are currently available. I'd had a simpler idea: a length of cotton clothesline, wrapped spirally around the tire and rim, ought to give sufficient extra traction. A few minutes later I was trying it out. It made a huge difference. I was limited now only by the depth of snow not exceeding the trike's 3-inch ground clearance. The thin layer that remained after plowing was no problem. The slipping and sliding just added to the fun; it was always under control. What was a problem was the 27-degree temperature and my lack of adequate head and face protection. I rode around until my face got too cold and came back in. My camera batteries were charging so I didn't have any pictures. I'll try this again tomorrow and take some. Trikes rule!

Trice on Ice

I've heard a lot about trikes being fun to ride on ice and snow. I've seen blog posts from a guy in Minneapolis who commutes year round on his, with a studded rear tire for the winter. I was wishing for some snow to try mine out in. A few weeks ago we had a little snow that melted off the paved surfaces almost immediately. I felt disappointed. Last weekend we had the largest snowfall I have ever seen in 22 years of living in this area, and reportedly the third largest in this area since records have been kept. In my neighborhood, it was up to two feet deep, though the actual amount that fell was probably less, as there was a lot of wind, producing snowdrifts. This seemed to be in the category of being careful what you wish for. I only wished for a little snow. Next I'm wishing for only a little money.

Anyway, even before I started to dig my car out, I had the Trice out of the garage. There was a snow dam about 18" high and wide in front of the garage door--the snowplow passing through the parking lot having taken out the rest. I lifted the trike over that and placed it in the plowed area. As this was only about a car wide, I had to move the trike to allow cars to pass. I sat down and began to pedal. What I found was that on an icy surface or in thin snow or slush, it would get traction and move. More than a couple of inches, and the wheel would just spin. With the standard Schwalbe Marathon Racer tire on the back, this was about what I expected. I would need a treadier tire if I did this regularly. Also, Trice recommends moving the seat toward the rear to increase the weight over the back tire for riding off-road and this would be much the same. However, I was riding back and forth in the plowed section. When it slid sideways, it was easy to correct and added to the fun. The Trice Q series have only a 3.2" ground clearance, and the rear derailleur on any 20"-wheel Trice is very close to the ground, so I got stuck in the unplowed snow.

I made my way from the parking lot around to the street. Bad idea. There was only one plowed lane and it was full of moving cars. There was no way to reverse course to get out of there. It was forward or nothing. I continued around the block and found that the side street was even worse. It was covered in enough slush to bog down in, and there were enough cars trying to use it that I had to stand up and move the trike out of their way several times. I was able to ride it short distances, then it would get stuck and before I could get moving again, along would come another car. I walked along pushing it through the worst, then was able to ride the last part and into the lot again. If I had some momentum, I could blast through places where I would not have been able to start from stopped.

After a couple more passes up and down the parking lot, I considered my point proved and put the Trice away. If I were going to ride in snowy conditions regularly, I might perhaps want a Trice T 26 for its higher clearance, with some knobby or studded tires on it. However, the QNT proved that it could be ridden on moderate surfaces, and in conditions where I would be a lot less confident on a bicycle, and it was a lot of fun to ride. I plan to do this again, preferably in better locations to do it in than one full of motorized traffic.

Yes, I do get to commute on it occasionally

Last Monday it was six months since the bicycling accident in which I broke my elbow while attempting to ride to my office (June 14, 2009). The following day, December 15, I rode my Trice recumbent trike to the office. It was actually the second time I had ridden the trike to the office, having completed a full round trip on September 16. I don't often ride to the office, because in my business I usually have to be prepared to go out and show houses and I need to have a car with me. On this most recent occasion I was actually retrieving a car I had left at the office. I had been playing musical cars getting them into and out of the tire store before Thanksgiving, and had left the Volvo 240 wagon at the office for about a week. This meant that if I did get one of those emergency calls, I could drive there. I had a change of clothes with me and I was able to look presentable for our semi-monthly sales meeting. Tuesday was a good day to ride in because on the day of sales meetings we always have breakfast there. Plus I have to admit it was fun to show the Trice off to my colleagues.

The Tweed Ride, A Personal View

The major and minor media having reported in, now it’s my turn. Sunday morning I was up very early to make sure the Roadster was ready. I adjusted the brakes, replaced the broken wire from the dynamo to the headlamp, and went for a test ride. A cacophony of noises rent the air. Roadsters are noisy anyway, but this was worse than before. The crank rubbed against the gear case. The gear case acted as a resonator to amplify every creak and chain rattle. I did what I could with the gear case and figured I would have to live with it. It would be like having loud pipes on a motorcycle. Most important, I found I could ride it with an acceptable level of elbow pain. This would be my first ride on an upright bicycle since the bike accident in June in which I had broken my elbow, and I was concerned about it. Given the condition of the bike and my arm, I chose to minimize the amount of riding to the event itself. I put the bike in my Volvo 240 wagon and drove it to a parking spot near a Metro station. That way, if the bike broke down or my arm started to hurt excessively, I could count on getting home. I have rarely taken bikes on Metro and finding the right elevators took some additional time. What with making sure the bike was ready and taking Metro on a Sunday, it was 12:30 when I reached the starting point for an event which had been scheduled to start at 11. Fortunately, I had seen a message from the organizer Eric that due to the large turnout, it would be run in groups over several hours. I arrived just as a group was leaving, registered, talked with people, took some pictures and had my picture taken, and was in what turned out to be the last group to go. Eric asked for leaders and I ended up as one of them, but I let my co-leader, who had done this sort of thing before, do most of the navigating. I found that the Roadster, which is not exactly a thing of blinding speed, was nevertheless so high-geared that even pedaling very slowly and coasting a lot, I kept getting out in front. At one point, not being used to riding in a group, I failed to notice I was crowding a lady behind me toward the curb, but did manage not to run her into it. Eventually I dropped back into the pack for a while. The ride was fun. The roadster’s loud bell received many compliments. The weather was really a bit warm for tweed, the best day we’d had in some time. We got a lot of attention and even some cheers from people along the way. At one point, a lady riding behind me commented on the noises my bike made. “When you changed gears, it sounded like your chain was falling off!” she said. I told her that the noises are what holds the bike together. I’ve gotten used to the many distinctive sounds that roadsters make. Actually I was pleased that the noise level was a lot less than it had been during my morning test ride. Inexplicably, the crank arm wasn’t rubbing on the gear case any more. I was having a great time and it was the perfect bike for the occasion. Roadsters are a hoot and a half. I can’t help grinning while I ride it. On arrival at Marvin, the venue for the post-ride party, we found that several hundred people had preceded us. The bike racks provided by WABA for the occasion were already full. Three of us locked our bikes together instead. I was so intrigued by the bikes parked outside that I did not get indoors where the party was for some time. The main party was on the upstairs deck. It was jam-packed. At the far end was some free food, if you could get there. Eventually I did. It was English muffins, eggs, grits, and English-style (meaning not cooked to a crisp) bacon—just the way I prefer it. The remainder of the day was spent in conversations, meeting new people, sampling Belgian ale and generally enjoying myself. I stayed longer than I thought I would have, and was glad I had made sure I had working lights for the return trip. I had also found that while my recumbent trike riding had maintained my stamina, I was no longer acclimated to a saddle after five months not riding an upright bike. This, however, did not become noticeable until the ride home. I enjoyed riding with a group (nearly all of my decades of cycling has been solo). I liked seeing the variety of bicycles and costumes. I especially enjoyed the feeling of camaraderie, that we were all in on something remarkable. I made some new friends and saw a few people I knew. Earlier in the day, one of the participants had been hit by a bus while riding to the start—fortunately she was not seriously injured and able to continue. At the end of the day, as I was getting ready to leave, I found out that a bike had been stolen from one of the participants. Because the racks were full, she had parked it separately from the main group, locked to a fence around the corner, where it was out of sight and easier to steal. It was perhaps inevitable that so large a food supply would attract predators and scavengers. Still, it was one of those things that takes a bit of the bloom off an otherwise perfect day. It’s a reminder that cyclists can never relax their vigilance for traffic hazards or theft. Those are the thorns on the rose. For some people, they are reasons not to ride. For others, they are occupational hazards that will not prevent them from enjoying the benefits. The rose smells sweet and looks pretty even with its thorns. Congratulations to Eric and his cohorts for a successful event, and I look forward to more great things from the Dandies and Quaintrelles.

Installing a Gear Case, or Is All This Work Really Necessary? A Pre-Tweed Ride Anticipation

When I heard about the Tweed Ride, I thought I might even find the time to swap the roadster's chainguard for a gear case I had acquired (from Yellow Jersey) but never installed. Gear cases, which completely enclose the chain (keeping it and the rider's clothes clean), were a normal feature of utility bicycles for many years. However, Raleigh often imported roadsters to the USA with a hockey-stick chainguard instead. According to Sheldon Brown, this was to avoid import duty on bicycles weighing more than 40 pounds! Supposedly that small difference in weight was just enough to put a roadster over the limit. Chainguards are also easier to install (especially if the bicycle was shipped partly assembled, as is usual) and easier to work around and keep clear of the chain. I've been debating whether to go to the bother of changing it since I got the bike in 2008. However, the Tweed Ride provided sufficient inspiration. I wanted to ride in nice clothes and keep them nice. This was exactly why bikes like this had gear cases. So on Saturday afternoon, I started to install it. My garage is so full at the moment that I usually work on bikes outside, so I needed good weather and daylight. It had rained all week until Saturday. It was now or never. I looked at the bike and considered that I could just as easily leave it as it was, and avoid the risk of having it not be ready for the ride. Then I started on it. I could always bail out and put the chainguard back on it if I had to. The first part was easy—remove the old chain guard. Next, remove the right side crank. This is an old-style steel cottered crank and normally something of a pain to take apart. Fortunately I had bought a crank cotter press from Bikesmith Design and Fabrication. This worked so well that I was able to reuse the same cotter instead of having to use a new one, as is usually the case—the cotter threads are usually destroyed in removing it. As new cotters that fit properly can be somewhat hard to get, I appreciated being able to save my spare ones. By the way, it’s a cotter, not a cotter pin. Cotter pins are those split pins used with a drilled bolt and castellated nut, to hold the nut in place, commonly used before the advent of nylon-insert locknuts. I considered taking the whole crank apart so I could check the bearings inside, but as everything seemed to work properly when I spun the crank axle, I left it alone. For many years, roadster bikes had an oil fitting on the bottom bracket, but mine, made in 1971, no longer had this. These bikes were made to be liberally oiled, and not much other maintenance was required. Mine does have the oil fitting on the front hub, thank goodness. “They like oil,” as the guy at Yellow Jersey told me. The next part was putting the main body of the case on. Raleigh provided mounting holes on the roadster frames for their gear cases. This one was a Chinese copy of a Raleigh case (after installation, I blacked over the name), pretty well made, but using two clamp-on brackets instead. Halfway through this part, I realized I would have to take the back wheel off for working room around the chain stay. This is something of a process, so I had avoided it. It took some trial fitting to get the case to clear the crank, and I had to bend the brackets a little. Too far right, and the chainwheel rubbed on the inside. Too far left, and the crank arm rubbed on the outside. Finally it was in place. Next, the chain has to go back on. The trick is to push it from the hub end, along the top of the gear case, until it catches on the chainwheel, and then turn the crank, pull the chain over and around until it can be pushed back toward the hub on the lower side of the case. At this point I had one end of the chain on the sprocket and the other just out of reach inside the gear case. I used a wire hook to reach in and pull the chain back and around the sprocket so I could put the connecting link in. I only dropped it twice. This description makes it sound easier than it was. I was already thinking that perhaps it had been a mistake not to leave the chainguard the way it was. By this time it had gotten dark and was getting colder. The temperature drops fast on these autumn evenings. I used my helmet light and pulled one of my clamp-on work lights out on a long cord. I just wanted to get the thing together enough to put everything back in the garage for the night. I could finish it in the morning. I got it to the point where I could ride it around the parking lot. The crank arm rubbed on the gear case and made a horrible noise. The gear case itself acted as a resonator, amplifying the sound. Well, I thought, it’ll warn the pedestrians. I wasn’t sure at all how well it would work on the ride, and I was rather embarrassed in advance thinking about riding something that sounded like that. But otherwise, I was rather pleased with the result. I could now ride without concern for my trouser cuffs, and I liked how it looked. It completed the bike, somehow. So about 9 pm I put things away and went indoors. The next morning at about 8, I was out again to see how it looked and finish up the adjustments. The case rubbed on the crank. I pushed and pounded on it until it mostly didn’t. I checked over all the adjustments. It seemed to be ready to ride, though the crank still rubbed on the case. So I changed into my ride clothes and set off. Oddly, the clearances seemed to improve by themselves and the crank no longer rubbed on the case. It reminded me of some of my antique cars of the same era of technology, in which the rule of thumb was to put everything together and let it work itself out. Overall, I’m pleased with it and glad I took the trouble. It will especially be useful when I use this bike in cold weather—it’s been my favorite bike for running local errands. I use it much as it was intended to be used, and it’s also a lot of fun to ride. I am, however, not at all looking forward to any occasion, such as a flat tire, in which I might have to remove the rear wheel!

Yes Indeedy, Let's All Go Tweedy

Washington, DC gets its first Tweed Ride on November 15th. That's only 9 days from now. No time to waste to get the roadster ready and find which of my tweedy clothes still fit me. What's a Tweed Ride? It's a deliberately old-fashioned event in which the participants, dressed in tweeds and other non-lycra, pre-modern cycling attire, ride old bikes, preferably of the English roadster or sports 3-speed persuasion. Tweed rides are intended to be fun, relaxed, and recreate the spirit of cycling of an earlier generation. Over the past year or two I have noticed a number of activities based on the English upright bicycle and its relatives and descendants. Notable among these are the Lake Pepin Three-Speed Tour in Minnesota, and various tweed rides in Boston, New York and elsewhere. Many are included in the links in the right-hand column of this blog. One thing all of them had in common is that they were happening somewhere other than where I was. At last, we have one here in our nation's capital. Let's get a lot of riders out for this. I've put it on my calendar and I plan to be there, suitably attired and riding my Raleigh Roadster. I have not ridden an upright bike since my accident in June, other than to stand over one and confirm that my arm still wasn't up to it. However, my arm is improving rapidly. The recumbent trike seems to provide a very good therapy for my arm without overstraining it. Accurate steering requires some muscle (trikes tend to wander side to side), but I don't have to support any weight on my arms. I've been anticipating when I might try riding a bike again. The Roadster is probably the easiest one to start with; with its great stability and very low balance speed, it's probably the safest thing on two wheels. If my test ride shows I can do it, I'll bring it along. If not, at least my trike is from Britain, (Cornwall, to be exact). So far as I can tell, the tadpole trike was a British invention. Plus, it's easy to ride in whatever clothes you like.