Sunday 29th April 2007
First proper test drive of the Orbit Expedition frame in Reynolds 520 tubing which I have been building up. It has 26" (i.e. mountain bike size) wheels shod with Panaracer Pasela 26x1.25 tyres, 11-32 tooth 8 speed block at the rear and 48-38-24 tooth triple chainset at the front. Crank length is 170mm, and, as already mentioned, the Brooks saddle. It was my intention to go up the Big Hill on it and get a comparison with my typical commuting times on the Carrera Subway 8.
The Orbit is 2kg lighter, and of course I wasn't carrying my usual commuting load of clothes, towel, fruit, tools, spare inner tube, full water bottle, so this was not a very fair trial. Also this morning the wind was from the East, so
I got some assistance on the ascent.
The only negative was that I didn't have any sort of toe clips (I was both clipless, and clipless-less). Also I was trying very hard not to try very hard, if you catch my drift.
Anyway to cut a long and very boring story short, I got up to my usual check-point in 24min 30 sec. I usually struggle to do this in 30 mins, so RESULT! (No wonder a bewildering array of other cyclists have passed me over the last 3 months).
On the way up, saw the same bird on the same fence post, and he flew away displaying the same white rump. That is a wheatear, says the book. And he only looks bigger than a pipit. He’s actually a similar size.
Verdict on the saddle. Firm yet comfortable (Sofa so good).
A few mechanical problems with the bike:
(1) chain rubs on the front changer when in the extreme rear gears (doubt if Bonjela will sort this teething trouble out: may be able to tune this out with careful adjustment, but may have to live with some rubbing),
(2) handlebars let out an alarming squeal and slipped round in their clamp when I hit a large bump on the way on the down the hill. A slight tweak with allen key sorted this out when I got back to base,
(3) the spokes need tensioning in the rear wheel. There was a bit of a pinging ringing thing going on back there.
Main thing is that the brakes worked well on the descent of the Big Hill.
Monday 30th April 2007
Last day of April. Yesterday was like summer, this morning there's a raw easterly and it's dull. Try hard to try hard on the Big Hill. Do it in 29 and a half mins, so nowhere near yesterday's excellent figure on the Orbit. Feels like the Taiwanese alchemists who crafted this bike's frame from finest Aluminium alloy have lost their touch, and that it has transmuted back to base metal.
380 pedal strokes. Will count the right pedal tomorrow and see if we can average this lot out.
Not many birds to speak about, yet here are a couple of wheatears. Were they there before and I've just started noticing them, or have they just arrived? You know how it is when you buy a car, and suddenly every other car you see is the same model? Well that is the Wheatear effect.
It's cold up here on the tops. My left ear is not a happy bunny, nor are my finger-tips.
After showering, fire alarm goes off (trigger-happy sensors, will probably be classed as "Friendly Fire"). Glad it wasn't during my shower as once happened to me at another place of work. Back then, I reasoned "If the building is burning down, a wet place is probably a good place to be" and finished my shower.
I start back by taking it steady, to conserve energy. I tell myself that "like a good pint of Guinness, this bike cannot be rushed". Still have to stop for a quick energy bar. Damn - should have taken some malt loaf to work!
A blackbird whistles the first six notes of "La Donna e mobile" from Verdi's Rigoletto. Wow they'll be typing Shakespeare next.
Brisk tailwind coming down into the village - Clocked 45+mph (pedalling neither desirable nor required) I think I may nick-name this bike "The Lead Balloon"
Time out 0:58 (some wind assistance in evidence)
Return 0:58
Tuesday 1st May 2007
Crystal clear morning, as befits the first day of May. The lattice work of the mast at the top of the Big Hill is picked out in perfect detail today, whereas yesterday it wasn't even there. A bead of sweat trickles down my breastbone as I tackle the hill. Counting the right pedal strokes today, and starting from the 'horses' sign at the bottom, finishing at the bridlepath sign at the top. The right answer then is 380. Same as yesterday. Let that be an end to it.
Bird population on the tops a cocktail of Lapwing, Curlew, with a strong Wheatear chaser. They're all just shooting the breeze today. I nearly fell off watching a Curlew go overhead. Did I mention the blond in the Audi before? She usually drifts past about here. What's that one with the strangely shaped beak? I'll have to look that one up - maybe it's listed under "Bill Oddities"? (just joshing)
That strong cool easterly is still making its presence felt, but today the sun takes the edge off it.
The sheer volume of cars gets me down on the return journey. I'm contemplating going back over the back road tomorrow, as it's quieter, yet slightly more gruelling.
Time out 0:57 (Is it the global warming, or am I improving by degrees?)
Return 0:53 (conditions similar to yesterday, except fuelled by large fruity flapjack)
Wednesday 2nd May
Passed that fallen tree this morning. It seems to have finally cottoned on to the fact that it is a basket case. The fresh green leaves are beginning to wither (a thousand tiny voices shouting "I can't feel me feet!") Is this what it's like to have MS? First it gets a foot in the door, then like a confidence trickster, insidiously steals closer to the inner sanctum (the shear nerve of it!)
Didn't bother to count up the Big Hill, as we have the right answer now, but the sign at the bottom has the picture of the horse and rider, with a "rider" saying "for 1 mile". In all the time I've been coming up here, I can't for the life of me recall seeing this horse and rider. Who is he? What a waste of signage.
After the Big Hill, but before the Big Hillock, I'm aware of a rather loud vehicle behind me. What's this? An artic! I pull over onto the grass verge to let him pass, not happy that he's invaded this domain, but don’t feel like insisting on sail before steam. Blimey, he really makes the Big Hillock look pretty damn steep as he hauls up and disappears into the mist.
I have a theory that this back road is on occasions used for underhand dealings such as smuggling trans-shipments, drug dealing and general nefarious activities. Only the birds know, and they're not telling.
As I have mentioned before, "honking" up hills has been rehabilitated in my lexicon of cycling techniques, as it helps me stay in the "golden gear" (5th), exercises my arms (by pulling on the handlebars) and last but not least gives my bum some respite from the saddle. A couple of geese go overhead, also honking.
This damn easterly wind is still with us on the tops. Cold. The winds in this part of the world are predictable in their unpredictability.
Coming down off the tops, I can hear a lark, and he seems fairly close. I look up, and he's just ascending. And which piece of music springs into my head? Perhaps you might think "Lark Ascending" by Vaughan-Williams? No, it's the bloody theme from "Are You Being Served" again (Going up!)
Down Pellon Lane, a White Van man was determined to get past me. He accelerated in his desperate rush, even though the lights a few yards ahead were red. So he had to anchor on, and I sneaked past him on the inside to get to the front of the queue. Minutes later, I had wound the "Lead Balloon" up to 28mph, and he was still determined to roar past, even though the next set of lights was also at red. Naturally, I repeated the undertaking exercise. Tired of playing leap-frog, I was glad when my left turn came up soon after.
Time out: 0:56
A strange thing happened to me on the way home. As I mentioned yesterday, I'd decided to go the scenic route, but I didn't get that far. After travelling less than 1/4 mile, I was approached by a youngish lady, in a rather revealing yellow dress (and cowboy boots), who wanted to know where she could find a phone box. She wanted to phone her boyfriend, but had no credit on her mobile phone. She needed to explain to him she'd crashed the car, having been run off the road on a country lane by a lorry. It was then that I noticed she had a few cuts and bruises.
She explained that she had just come out of the Police Station, where they had been dealing with the aftermath. She didn’t even know where she was. I told her she was in Halifax.
Apparently she'd been trapped in the BMW car. Crikes! What could I do, but lend her my mobile so she could call the boyfriend? I asked her where she lived. "Manchester" How she was going to get back there was not at all clear. She was definitely not in any condition to think straight. Her house keys and some money were still in the car, which had been taken to a garage in Sowerby Bridge.
When you're on a bike, you're a bit powerless to assist, but we hit on the plan that she'd get a taxi to the place where they’d taken her car, retrieve her keys and money and Hey, Presto! a miracle would occur. So we rang the place that had the car, to check they'd still be open. I took her to the local taxi firm, and entrusted her to them, after giving her some money for the fare.
She thanked me profusely, and I waved her on her way.
It was after that that I realised I should have got her to a hospital, as she was actually in shock. Anyway, whether I'd done the right thing occupied my mind on the ride home, then it dawned that I should phone the car place to check she'd got there safely. The lady there put my mind at rest, by saying they'd probably drive her back to Manchester.
She (the car place lady) also said that she (the car crash lady) had refused hospital treatment. I went on my way somewhat relieved (notwithstanding the fact that some fallout was to be expected with the boyfriend apropos the destruction of the BMW). Just don't tell the Rapunzels about this incident.
Time return: 1hr 30mins (extra time allowance for damsel-rescuing).
Thursday 3rd May 2007
Day off. Heard a cuckoo somewhere in the village.
Computer reset.
DST 192.34 miles
TIME 19:15:58
AVG 9.9 mph
MAX 45.3 mph
First proper test drive of the Orbit Expedition frame in Reynolds 520 tubing which I have been building up. It has 26" (i.e. mountain bike size) wheels shod with Panaracer Pasela 26x1.25 tyres, 11-32 tooth 8 speed block at the rear and 48-38-24 tooth triple chainset at the front. Crank length is 170mm, and, as already mentioned, the Brooks saddle. It was my intention to go up the Big Hill on it and get a comparison with my typical commuting times on the Carrera Subway 8.
The Orbit is 2kg lighter, and of course I wasn't carrying my usual commuting load of clothes, towel, fruit, tools, spare inner tube, full water bottle, so this was not a very fair trial. Also this morning the wind was from the East, so
I got some assistance on the ascent.
The only negative was that I didn't have any sort of toe clips (I was both clipless, and clipless-less). Also I was trying very hard not to try very hard, if you catch my drift.
Anyway to cut a long and very boring story short, I got up to my usual check-point in 24min 30 sec. I usually struggle to do this in 30 mins, so RESULT! (No wonder a bewildering array of other cyclists have passed me over the last 3 months).
On the way up, saw the same bird on the same fence post, and he flew away displaying the same white rump. That is a wheatear, says the book. And he only looks bigger than a pipit. He’s actually a similar size.
Verdict on the saddle. Firm yet comfortable (Sofa so good).
A few mechanical problems with the bike:
(1) chain rubs on the front changer when in the extreme rear gears (doubt if Bonjela will sort this teething trouble out: may be able to tune this out with careful adjustment, but may have to live with some rubbing),
(2) handlebars let out an alarming squeal and slipped round in their clamp when I hit a large bump on the way on the down the hill. A slight tweak with allen key sorted this out when I got back to base,
(3) the spokes need tensioning in the rear wheel. There was a bit of a pinging ringing thing going on back there.
Main thing is that the brakes worked well on the descent of the Big Hill.
Monday 30th April 2007
Last day of April. Yesterday was like summer, this morning there's a raw easterly and it's dull. Try hard to try hard on the Big Hill. Do it in 29 and a half mins, so nowhere near yesterday's excellent figure on the Orbit. Feels like the Taiwanese alchemists who crafted this bike's frame from finest Aluminium alloy have lost their touch, and that it has transmuted back to base metal.
380 pedal strokes. Will count the right pedal tomorrow and see if we can average this lot out.
Not many birds to speak about, yet here are a couple of wheatears. Were they there before and I've just started noticing them, or have they just arrived? You know how it is when you buy a car, and suddenly every other car you see is the same model? Well that is the Wheatear effect.
It's cold up here on the tops. My left ear is not a happy bunny, nor are my finger-tips.
After showering, fire alarm goes off (trigger-happy sensors, will probably be classed as "Friendly Fire"). Glad it wasn't during my shower as once happened to me at another place of work. Back then, I reasoned "If the building is burning down, a wet place is probably a good place to be" and finished my shower.
I start back by taking it steady, to conserve energy. I tell myself that "like a good pint of Guinness, this bike cannot be rushed". Still have to stop for a quick energy bar. Damn - should have taken some malt loaf to work!
A blackbird whistles the first six notes of "La Donna e mobile" from Verdi's Rigoletto. Wow they'll be typing Shakespeare next.
Brisk tailwind coming down into the village - Clocked 45+mph (pedalling neither desirable nor required) I think I may nick-name this bike "The Lead Balloon"
Time out 0:58 (some wind assistance in evidence)
Return 0:58
Tuesday 1st May 2007
Crystal clear morning, as befits the first day of May. The lattice work of the mast at the top of the Big Hill is picked out in perfect detail today, whereas yesterday it wasn't even there. A bead of sweat trickles down my breastbone as I tackle the hill. Counting the right pedal strokes today, and starting from the 'horses' sign at the bottom, finishing at the bridlepath sign at the top. The right answer then is 380. Same as yesterday. Let that be an end to it.
Bird population on the tops a cocktail of Lapwing, Curlew, with a strong Wheatear chaser. They're all just shooting the breeze today. I nearly fell off watching a Curlew go overhead. Did I mention the blond in the Audi before? She usually drifts past about here. What's that one with the strangely shaped beak? I'll have to look that one up - maybe it's listed under "Bill Oddities"? (just joshing)
That strong cool easterly is still making its presence felt, but today the sun takes the edge off it.
The sheer volume of cars gets me down on the return journey. I'm contemplating going back over the back road tomorrow, as it's quieter, yet slightly more gruelling.
Time out 0:57 (Is it the global warming, or am I improving by degrees?)
Return 0:53 (conditions similar to yesterday, except fuelled by large fruity flapjack)
Wednesday 2nd May
Passed that fallen tree this morning. It seems to have finally cottoned on to the fact that it is a basket case. The fresh green leaves are beginning to wither (a thousand tiny voices shouting "I can't feel me feet!") Is this what it's like to have MS? First it gets a foot in the door, then like a confidence trickster, insidiously steals closer to the inner sanctum (the shear nerve of it!)
Didn't bother to count up the Big Hill, as we have the right answer now, but the sign at the bottom has the picture of the horse and rider, with a "rider" saying "for 1 mile". In all the time I've been coming up here, I can't for the life of me recall seeing this horse and rider. Who is he? What a waste of signage.
After the Big Hill, but before the Big Hillock, I'm aware of a rather loud vehicle behind me. What's this? An artic! I pull over onto the grass verge to let him pass, not happy that he's invaded this domain, but don’t feel like insisting on sail before steam. Blimey, he really makes the Big Hillock look pretty damn steep as he hauls up and disappears into the mist.
I have a theory that this back road is on occasions used for underhand dealings such as smuggling trans-shipments, drug dealing and general nefarious activities. Only the birds know, and they're not telling.
As I have mentioned before, "honking" up hills has been rehabilitated in my lexicon of cycling techniques, as it helps me stay in the "golden gear" (5th), exercises my arms (by pulling on the handlebars) and last but not least gives my bum some respite from the saddle. A couple of geese go overhead, also honking.
This damn easterly wind is still with us on the tops. Cold. The winds in this part of the world are predictable in their unpredictability.
Coming down off the tops, I can hear a lark, and he seems fairly close. I look up, and he's just ascending. And which piece of music springs into my head? Perhaps you might think "Lark Ascending" by Vaughan-Williams? No, it's the bloody theme from "Are You Being Served" again (Going up!)
Down Pellon Lane, a White Van man was determined to get past me. He accelerated in his desperate rush, even though the lights a few yards ahead were red. So he had to anchor on, and I sneaked past him on the inside to get to the front of the queue. Minutes later, I had wound the "Lead Balloon" up to 28mph, and he was still determined to roar past, even though the next set of lights was also at red. Naturally, I repeated the undertaking exercise. Tired of playing leap-frog, I was glad when my left turn came up soon after.
Time out: 0:56
A strange thing happened to me on the way home. As I mentioned yesterday, I'd decided to go the scenic route, but I didn't get that far. After travelling less than 1/4 mile, I was approached by a youngish lady, in a rather revealing yellow dress (and cowboy boots), who wanted to know where she could find a phone box. She wanted to phone her boyfriend, but had no credit on her mobile phone. She needed to explain to him she'd crashed the car, having been run off the road on a country lane by a lorry. It was then that I noticed she had a few cuts and bruises.
She explained that she had just come out of the Police Station, where they had been dealing with the aftermath. She didn’t even know where she was. I told her she was in Halifax.
Apparently she'd been trapped in the BMW car. Crikes! What could I do, but lend her my mobile so she could call the boyfriend? I asked her where she lived. "Manchester" How she was going to get back there was not at all clear. She was definitely not in any condition to think straight. Her house keys and some money were still in the car, which had been taken to a garage in Sowerby Bridge.
When you're on a bike, you're a bit powerless to assist, but we hit on the plan that she'd get a taxi to the place where they’d taken her car, retrieve her keys and money and Hey, Presto! a miracle would occur. So we rang the place that had the car, to check they'd still be open. I took her to the local taxi firm, and entrusted her to them, after giving her some money for the fare.
She thanked me profusely, and I waved her on her way.
It was after that that I realised I should have got her to a hospital, as she was actually in shock. Anyway, whether I'd done the right thing occupied my mind on the ride home, then it dawned that I should phone the car place to check she'd got there safely. The lady there put my mind at rest, by saying they'd probably drive her back to Manchester.
She (the car place lady) also said that she (the car crash lady) had refused hospital treatment. I went on my way somewhat relieved (notwithstanding the fact that some fallout was to be expected with the boyfriend apropos the destruction of the BMW). Just don't tell the Rapunzels about this incident.
Time return: 1hr 30mins (extra time allowance for damsel-rescuing).
Thursday 3rd May 2007
Day off. Heard a cuckoo somewhere in the village.
Computer reset.
DST 192.34 miles
TIME 19:15:58
AVG 9.9 mph
MAX 45.3 mph
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