Sunday 17th March 2007
Fathers' Day. Georgina presents me with a nice Toblerone. Clearly symbolic of the Big Hill. If only hill-climbing could be made as enjoyable. We do a training run, on a new 9 mile course which Georgina has worked out earlier in the week. There is quite a lot of uphill work, and some fast A road. We take the GPS just because we can. It's a pleasant hour’s outing. I on the Moulton, Georgina on her Univega. The GPS is set up in km, which misleads us into thinking we’re travelling fast. Funny little grey trail on the GPS screen tells us where we’ve been. By sneaking round to the A629 by the back roads, we’ve confused the poor thing, as it thinks all our cycling has been off-road.
Spend the rest of the day tinkering with Lead Balloon. Clean and lubricate the chain, then decide to measure it. Oh, it’s worn and needs replacing. I replace it. And so to bed.
Monday 18th June 2007
Set off on the Lead Balloon and get no more than 200 yards into the journey to find that the new chain doesn’t actually mesh with the rear sprocket. It keep’s jumping under load. New sprocket required. A quick decision to take Jacky’s bike. A few hasty adjustments, including transferring the handle-bar mount for the Garmin to my new steed.
As I get to the top of the Big Hill, a strange sight greets me. Someone has painted a placard "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!" This makes me chuckle. So there is someone else out there who knows Rapunzel. What a coincidence. Of course, it could just be one of a handful of suspects.
Nice to have the Garmin eTrex Legend for company. Altitude of the highest point along the moor road is 434m. Little arrow on the screen like the ones at the start of Dad's Army apparently aimlessly wending across a wide open space. None of these roads are on its base map.
Recently Twoc'd and burnt out car on tops. They’ve left the doors wide open, how inconsiderate (a fast cyclist with his head down might come to grief on such an obstruction. Lucky I’m no fast cyclist).
Eventually reach Halifax, and park bike against the Dean Clough G Mill. Satellite reception is lost before I even get in the building. It's surrounded by an impenetrable aura of oldness, which modern technology cannot, er, penetrate.
Time out 0:56.
Coming back, Jacky's bike making a slight "grinkling" from rear derailleur, and it's obvious the shifting isn't as good as it should be. Looking down between my legs, I detect that the derailleur looks slightly out of line.
I put the GPS onto the map display, to take my mind off the duff gears. Watch the little arrow, which I suppose is me, proceed like a drunk finding his way home. What a hoot! This is the sort of thing which causes accidents - too busy fiddling with your in-car stereo / air conditioning / mobile phone, and don't notice the danger ahead.
return 0:58 (despite gear probs)
Tuesday 19th
Sorted Jacky's bike last night. Achieved this by taking the back wheel and derailleur off and tactfully persuading the errant hanger that it had better go straight, or else face a long stretch in the chokey. No wonder she had a bad time last year in Scotland with it. Clearly impossible to get a decent gear without that noise. Now it runs sweet as a nut. More importantly, changes are more positive.
This morning decided to adjust bar-ends before setting of for work and stripped the thread on one of ‘em. Dang! Hastily fitted a spare set I had to hand.
Finally set off. Decided to post an ink cartridge for recycling. Wouldn't fit in the post box. So went to Post Office to post it in the box there. Detour caused me to take short cut through fields, much lifting of bike over styles etc. By the time I got to the bottom of the Big Hill I was in a lather. Stopped to adjust new bar-ends, which I'd fitted at an uncomfortable angle.
Up the Big Hill, everything now running smoothly. Rapunzel placard, nay banner, nay hoarding gone. Did I just imagine it?
Much bird activity on the tops. Tootling along happily when suddenly gears go hay-wire, rear jumps out of gear, I change down at front and I get chain stuck, and grind to a halt. Huge yellow crane (not of the bird variety) coming along the road, presumably to do some lifting of wind turbine blades. I'm pre-occupied by what's gone wrong with bike. Well, twirl my turbines! The rear gear cable has slipped right through its clamping bolt. Not properly tightened at some stage in the past. Sack the mechanic!
Get out the allen keys and re-locate everything and we're on our way. Resolve to just take it easy for the rest of the journey and try to de-stress.
The Half Way House pub has a large "Sky Sports" banner - Quidditch must be very popular in these parts (have I cracked that one before?)
Free bacon sandwich as this is ‘Bike to Work Week’ (what about the other weeks since the end of January?).
The pear I brought to work for lunch looked like it had gone 15 rounds with Mike Tyson.
Time out 1:07
Coming back I switched the GPS on whilst still in the dungeon, this had the effect of making it rather difficult to acquire satellites. I then set off up the road with the unit desperately displaying “acquiring satellites, please wait”! To add insult to injury, I went up the lane on the east side of the Clough, parallel to the A629. This attempt at bamboozling it meant that when I finally got onto the A629, the unit took about a mile to synch me up to its base map. It kept making quick westward adjustments with its little arrow when it thought I wasn’t looking. As soon as I looked down, it would quickly turn the arrow northwards to give some semblance of knowing where we were going!
I imagine too much of this sort of thing will give it a deep inferiority complex. All those extra calculations must have given it a headache, and I should have offered it some paracetamol. On second thoughts, suspect paracetamol would have added to its woe, as it does not spell-check, so is probably an alien concept to the world of computers.
Return 0:56 (gears meshing smoothly, tail wind up Long Causeway)
Wednesday 20th
Car needs to go in for a service in Halifax, so no cycling.
Decide to go up the Big Hill and along the moor road to look see if the Rapunzel sign has indeed gone. Yes it has.
Start off listening to Wogan, then decide to switch him off, wind down the windows and listen for curlews. Don't here any, but what's this over to the right? Attention, Bird of prey alert! Owl!
Fabulous markings on its back and wings. I drop speed to a cycling pace to observe. Then as it wheels off a couple of hundred yards away, another one overtakes me, s/he's just in front and working the hilly banking at the road side. Swooping and hovering, using the wind, never more than a few feet off the ground. I follow at a about 10 mph for maybe half a mile. What luck!
Then I realise I've got a Range Rover up me bum, so have to break off and be on my way. Well that's something you don't see every day. Wish I was a bit more up on recognising which kind of owl they were. Will have to look it up when I get home.
Take car to garage, then, as I get near to work I realise I've left my card keys in the bum bag at home. Luckily a colleague lets me in to the building.
Fathers' Day. Georgina presents me with a nice Toblerone. Clearly symbolic of the Big Hill. If only hill-climbing could be made as enjoyable. We do a training run, on a new 9 mile course which Georgina has worked out earlier in the week. There is quite a lot of uphill work, and some fast A road. We take the GPS just because we can. It's a pleasant hour’s outing. I on the Moulton, Georgina on her Univega. The GPS is set up in km, which misleads us into thinking we’re travelling fast. Funny little grey trail on the GPS screen tells us where we’ve been. By sneaking round to the A629 by the back roads, we’ve confused the poor thing, as it thinks all our cycling has been off-road.
Spend the rest of the day tinkering with Lead Balloon. Clean and lubricate the chain, then decide to measure it. Oh, it’s worn and needs replacing. I replace it. And so to bed.
Monday 18th June 2007
Set off on the Lead Balloon and get no more than 200 yards into the journey to find that the new chain doesn’t actually mesh with the rear sprocket. It keep’s jumping under load. New sprocket required. A quick decision to take Jacky’s bike. A few hasty adjustments, including transferring the handle-bar mount for the Garmin to my new steed.
As I get to the top of the Big Hill, a strange sight greets me. Someone has painted a placard "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!" This makes me chuckle. So there is someone else out there who knows Rapunzel. What a coincidence. Of course, it could just be one of a handful of suspects.
Nice to have the Garmin eTrex Legend for company. Altitude of the highest point along the moor road is 434m. Little arrow on the screen like the ones at the start of Dad's Army apparently aimlessly wending across a wide open space. None of these roads are on its base map.
Recently Twoc'd and burnt out car on tops. They’ve left the doors wide open, how inconsiderate (a fast cyclist with his head down might come to grief on such an obstruction. Lucky I’m no fast cyclist).
Eventually reach Halifax, and park bike against the Dean Clough G Mill. Satellite reception is lost before I even get in the building. It's surrounded by an impenetrable aura of oldness, which modern technology cannot, er, penetrate.
Time out 0:56.
Coming back, Jacky's bike making a slight "grinkling" from rear derailleur, and it's obvious the shifting isn't as good as it should be. Looking down between my legs, I detect that the derailleur looks slightly out of line.
I put the GPS onto the map display, to take my mind off the duff gears. Watch the little arrow, which I suppose is me, proceed like a drunk finding his way home. What a hoot! This is the sort of thing which causes accidents - too busy fiddling with your in-car stereo / air conditioning / mobile phone, and don't notice the danger ahead.
return 0:58 (despite gear probs)
Tuesday 19th
Sorted Jacky's bike last night. Achieved this by taking the back wheel and derailleur off and tactfully persuading the errant hanger that it had better go straight, or else face a long stretch in the chokey. No wonder she had a bad time last year in Scotland with it. Clearly impossible to get a decent gear without that noise. Now it runs sweet as a nut. More importantly, changes are more positive.
This morning decided to adjust bar-ends before setting of for work and stripped the thread on one of ‘em. Dang! Hastily fitted a spare set I had to hand.
Finally set off. Decided to post an ink cartridge for recycling. Wouldn't fit in the post box. So went to Post Office to post it in the box there. Detour caused me to take short cut through fields, much lifting of bike over styles etc. By the time I got to the bottom of the Big Hill I was in a lather. Stopped to adjust new bar-ends, which I'd fitted at an uncomfortable angle.
Up the Big Hill, everything now running smoothly. Rapunzel placard, nay banner, nay hoarding gone. Did I just imagine it?
Much bird activity on the tops. Tootling along happily when suddenly gears go hay-wire, rear jumps out of gear, I change down at front and I get chain stuck, and grind to a halt. Huge yellow crane (not of the bird variety) coming along the road, presumably to do some lifting of wind turbine blades. I'm pre-occupied by what's gone wrong with bike. Well, twirl my turbines! The rear gear cable has slipped right through its clamping bolt. Not properly tightened at some stage in the past. Sack the mechanic!
Get out the allen keys and re-locate everything and we're on our way. Resolve to just take it easy for the rest of the journey and try to de-stress.
The Half Way House pub has a large "Sky Sports" banner - Quidditch must be very popular in these parts (have I cracked that one before?)
Free bacon sandwich as this is ‘Bike to Work Week’ (what about the other weeks since the end of January?).
The pear I brought to work for lunch looked like it had gone 15 rounds with Mike Tyson.
Time out 1:07
Coming back I switched the GPS on whilst still in the dungeon, this had the effect of making it rather difficult to acquire satellites. I then set off up the road with the unit desperately displaying “acquiring satellites, please wait”! To add insult to injury, I went up the lane on the east side of the Clough, parallel to the A629. This attempt at bamboozling it meant that when I finally got onto the A629, the unit took about a mile to synch me up to its base map. It kept making quick westward adjustments with its little arrow when it thought I wasn’t looking. As soon as I looked down, it would quickly turn the arrow northwards to give some semblance of knowing where we were going!
I imagine too much of this sort of thing will give it a deep inferiority complex. All those extra calculations must have given it a headache, and I should have offered it some paracetamol. On second thoughts, suspect paracetamol would have added to its woe, as it does not spell-check, so is probably an alien concept to the world of computers.
Return 0:56 (gears meshing smoothly, tail wind up Long Causeway)
Wednesday 20th
Car needs to go in for a service in Halifax, so no cycling.
Decide to go up the Big Hill and along the moor road to look see if the Rapunzel sign has indeed gone. Yes it has.
Start off listening to Wogan, then decide to switch him off, wind down the windows and listen for curlews. Don't here any, but what's this over to the right? Attention, Bird of prey alert! Owl!
Fabulous markings on its back and wings. I drop speed to a cycling pace to observe. Then as it wheels off a couple of hundred yards away, another one overtakes me, s/he's just in front and working the hilly banking at the road side. Swooping and hovering, using the wind, never more than a few feet off the ground. I follow at a about 10 mph for maybe half a mile. What luck!
Then I realise I've got a Range Rover up me bum, so have to break off and be on my way. Well that's something you don't see every day. Wish I was a bit more up on recognising which kind of owl they were. Will have to look it up when I get home.
Take car to garage, then, as I get near to work I realise I've left my card keys in the bum bag at home. Luckily a colleague lets me in to the building.
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