Dillingham Haggblom

Dlg Group Ride (11.4 miles)--06/29/08

46:27:55, 46-50F, 0-5 south wind, fog lifted to overcast. This was my fastest time so far this year, even after Smitty and Earl insisted I pull over so they could tell me something vitally important. For a motorist, this is easy. For me, it meant unclipping, downshifting, and remembering that I did not have a rear brake. Then my glasses fogged up. We moved forward to a driveway so they weren’t parked in their lane. Then Smitty and Earl’s brother drove by in a gravel truck, probably not happy to see a truck and cyclist stopped on the side of the road on a curve. Actually, the reason I have my side mirror is because of those trucks—which are so well maintained that they sound like tigers purring and I can’t hear them a mile away like all the other trucks. On the other hand, they are also the best truck drivers, and I never have to worry about them. When I caught up with Smitty and Earl later, I instructed them as to the proper way to converse with a cyclist, which was to keep driving, like the TdF support vehicles do. And Big Brother told me a truck driver killing cyclist joke—one I’m sure I’ll never remember to repeat. Before he departed, he did his “Stay off the road” command, to which I replied “Share the road”—an exchange we will have over and over, I’m sure. But my ride was good. I spent time the night before cleaning, adjusting limit screws, and straightening the rear disc, but I still could not get the brake pads close enough to stop the disc without causing constant rub. I think I’ll try truing the wheel more, in the hopes that will help.

Commute (06/26/08)

So, yesterday, after speaking with my car mechanic on another topic, I mentioned the bent disc.  His response was that if it could bend one way, it could bend back.  And, lo and behold, my bike mechanic in Anchorage  said the same thing.   He has to straighten discs  on a regular basis, so  gave  me  a few tips.  The final step was to wipe all oil (especially from fingerprints) off the disc before rotating it through the pads.  The pads are designed to tolerate dirt, but not oil.  About 1/2 hour before I was to leave work, I borrowed a crescent wrench from the work toolbox and a phone cleaning wipe.  I turned my bike upside down and marked the area on the disc where the rub was, then bent it with the wrench.  It took a bit of rotating, checking, and bending, but I bent it back enough to not rub on either pad.  Did the phone cleaning pad wipe, and at least I could ride home without further damage or doing the dreaded call for a ride.  I couldn’t quite get the pads to touch the disc to stop it for braking without rubbing, so I just loosened them all the way and rode without a rear brake.  I don’t use my brakes much, and my front brake works great, especially when there’s no ice.  I noticed two noises this morning on my ride in that require further investigation, but I don’t think they are brake or drivetrain related, rather, other stuff that’s gotten knocked loose from the washboard.  It felt like a whiplash this morning coming down Johnson Hill, as I tried to stay on the finger wide strip of smooth outer edge, without skidding on the loose rock, but eventually ended up in the rough stuff again when the smooth strip ran out.  I am hoping that a revived cannery business at the end of Wood River Road will accelerate road improvements, since everything seems to have failed to this end.

Commute (06/23/08-06/25/08)

Monday’s bike miles numbered 15.3, with an added trip to the hospital to pick up a prescription.  Got a bit wet on this day, the same as the last day the hospital was part of the bicycling day.  I definitely didn’t feel like taking out a dog bikejoring when I got home, so settled for a two-dog walkjor instead.  But I like getting paid to ride my bike—I took paid leave time (always have a ton of leave to burn) to leave work early to go to the hospital, then went home.  This morning, however, saw me with my bike turned on its head on Wood River Road, extricating my pannier strap from the rear wheel hub.  The severe washboard road bounced my straps out of their tied up positions, and the end wrapped 1 1/2 times around the hub on the disc brake side.  My pedals promptly stopped moving, so I unclipped my right foot and coasted to a stop while unclipping my left foot.  I’m glad I was moving uphill at this time, because it gave me time to register what was happening and not just stop and crash without unclipping.  I loosened the wheel up, but it needed to come all the way off to get the strap unwound.  I did that, put the wheel back in, but the disc seems to have bent in the wrap up process because now it’s rubbing on the disc brake housing, no matter how much I loosen the pad up.  I futzed with it a bit, in the hopes it was just the wheel placement in the dropouts, but alas, it wasn’t.  Darn—I was not anticipating a new disc purchase at this time.  I didn’t tighten the wheel all the way, and rode very carefully and slowly in, hearing the metal disc rub against the housing.  Three male motorists stopped to offer assistance (I’ll get to the gender thing in a minute)—one was the copier repair man, who offered me a ride.  The next was someone I didn’t know who also offered a ride, and the third was a friend and his kids, towing his boat, who  allowed me to  briefly explain the situation instead of offering a ride first.  A female bicyclist passed without so much as a glance in my direction and several female motorists passed without stopping.  One of those was a coworker, who told me when I finally got to work that she saw I was having technical difficulties but since she didn’t know anything about bikes, figured she couldn’t help.  The men didn’t either, or at least, not to the extent where they could assist.  Which is why I’m my own bike mechanic—but it is interesting to me that none of the women stopped.  Not that I needed them to, because I could fix it enough to ride, but perhaps they believed they really could do nothing, without getting more information about the situation.  A bit eye-opening for me, as the more I pay attention, the more gender differences I notice in belief systems and attitudes.  Time to call Paramount in Anchorage and speak with their mechanics (who are all men).  C’mon, women—work on your bikes!!!!!

Dlg Group Ride (11.4 miles)--06/22/08

48:52:59, 48-51F, 10mph W/SW, clear.  I knew I wouldn’t make it under 47 minutes because of the wind today, so I was happy with making it under 49 minutes.  I didn’t slack off today, and my leg muscles were feeling it by the time my driveway was in sight.  The hills were ok, though, and I had a very nice ride.  I left home at 9:07am—I was wide awake at 7:00 am, I think because of the clear skies, so got out earlier than the usual 9:30am start.  I was pretty jazzed up when I got home, and felt absolutely no fatigue.  I refueled, then shoveled and moved gravel for about 3 hours.  My shoulders finally succumbed to soreness after that, so it was a good time to quit and anticipate how good the steam was going to feel later.  The steam completely eliminates all muscle aches and pains—too bad insurance policies don’t cover their costs!  Perhaps a federal tax deduction can be argued for since they’re such an excellent preventive medicine plan.

Commute (06/16/08-06/20/08)

Mornings continued to be cool, in the 40s, this week, with one day getting just 3 degrees warmer for the ride home at a whopping 50F.  Gear has been short-sleeved jersey with arm warmers, tights, either wind vest or yellow reflective vest (or sometimes both), ear band, and gloves.  Andy noticed that although my short-sleeved jersey is hot yellows and oranges, when I put my mesh-backed orange wind vest over it, it dulls the back.  The orange shoulders are still highly visible.  So, especially in the mornings, if I need to wear my vest, I’ll also wear the reflective yellow vest over it.  I have steered away from jerseys that are anything but hot yellows, oranges, and reds, even though they typically are on sale and cheap, because any other color just doesn’t have the visibility.  I always see pastel jerseys for women, advertised as classy or pretty or some other descriptor that those of us born with two x chromosomes are supposed to conform to.  Excuse me, but we also need to be SEEN, just like those of us born with one x and one y chromosome.  I like Primal Wear jerseys for this reason—they take hot colors to new levels, like my sleeveless jersey (which I haven’t worn yet this “season”) that is adorned with ladybugs.  There’s been one day warm enough to wear shorts, which was on a Saturday, but so far, not during the week.   They wait patiently for those over 60F days.

Commute (06/09/08-06/13/08)

I was able to bike 10.8 miles/day, with the added 4 mile bikejor with a dog after I got home from work. Love biking more than the normal commute miles, even though I switch from Giant to Huffy—yes, the dog bike is a Huffy. And a Huffy I won, even, if you can believe it. Sort of like winning a Chevy Chevette—some free things aren’t an asset. But Huffy works just fine for dogs, and when I had two dogs hooked to it (in their younger days), was a heavier weight so I didn’t get jerked around so much. That still is helpful on ice. No clips, just silly flame stickers on the front and rear fenders. When someone asks if I like Huffys, I respond, “Do not take this as an endorsement for Huffy.” The Springer attachment for pooches still works great after using it for about 15 years.

I’ve never stood up pedaling before going uphill, but this week I started to, to avoid shifting down from my largest front sprocket to the middle one going up one hill, in particular. It was fun, but there sure is a lot of wobble. Not sure it’s more efficient because of the wobble, but if I’m ever out of gears, it will be useful. Men tend to shift down less than women. They instead keep their cadence by powering uphills by standing, which is what you see in the pro road races a lot. But then, during the Tour de France, say, they probably are out of gears on the high category climbs in the Alps. Time to get the start date of the TDF on my calendar!

Dlg Group Ride (11.4 miles)--06/15/08

48:06:48, winds light and variable, fog turned to sun, 46-49F. I didn’t even notice the hills on this ride, because there was no head wind. Unbelievable, really. It was by far the easiest ride I’ve had on this loop since starting over a year ago. I was very happy when I got done—yes, wind is everything and when there is none, it’s great. I’ve learned how far to tighten my front derailleur limit screws for smooth shifting, after they get predictably loosened by the potholes and washboard on Wood River Road, without using the stand to check. Since I rode my bike on Saturday, something I usually don’t do, I didn’t adjust the screws until Sunday morning, so was pleased with the flawless front derailleur shifting. The front screws loosen up about 10 times more than the rear derailleur limit screws, because of the impact the bike takes from the rough road there. The rear derailleur continues to do well, with just one skip that I think I figured out how to finesse at the handle bar. The technique worked well these last two commuting days. Dr. Leif will be leaving town next month, so I won’t have anyone to chase. Without that incentive, I doubt my times will get much below 46-47 minutes. Even when I think I’m pushing myself as hard as I can solo, I know I’m not—that competitive streak kicks in when I’m trying to keep up with someone.

Dlg Group Ride (11.4 miles)--06/08/08

51:34:18, overcast, W/SW wind at 10mph, 43F.  Burrrrrrrr—I was definitely not warm enough in tights, short-sleeved jersey, arm warmers, and flourescent yellow vest.  I should have worn my long-sleeved cool weather jersey.  I was hardly sweaty after getting home, a nice thing, but was already feeling a cold torso before I changed into warm clothes.  Cats Isti and Jadde were snuggled up together on one burner cover, even though there were two available, a sure sign that it was definitely a chilly June day. After I put the kettle on for a hot recovery drink, I stood outside talking on the phone (the signal is horrific under a metal roof), and gradually started shivering with an increasingly shaking left hand (hand holding the phone).  I love the definition of “mobile”—it really means spinning and circling until there is at least one bar on the display then standing completely still so that meager connection is not lost.  The hot drink helped, as did a cat in my lap (this is getting to be a routine thing for cat Cougar).   With heating oil prices very high, I didn’t turn the heater on, but went back outside to start moving and haul the overwintered begonias from the neighbor’s house home.  Poor things—they usually have a hard time with this transition and kind of seize up until they get used to the outdoors and the temps warm up.  But they had already started flowering and it was already later than normal to bring them out.  Temps and wind are great for king salmon hitting subsistence nets, though—congrats to Jim Jones for getting 4 kings in his net.