"Bicycles Not Recommended"? Let's Talk Turkey!

 

Really?

Just past the entry to Mesa Verde National Park, this sign greets cyclists with a semi-friendly warning. Not to worry for us as ours was an "auto randonneuring" journey! My son, Mike, and I headed out from Seattle taking the Toyota Corolla that Dartre and I were giving him to his home near Denver. We were "randonneuring by car", and our tires were wide. Seeing this sign, I imagined that my soon-to-arrive custom randonneuring bicycle with its 42mm-wide 650B tires would do just fine on these Mesa Verde roads, but I suppose for cyclists with narrow tires this warning makes sense. But sometimes to find the mesas we wish to explore we just have to widen our stance a little.

My son Mike with his new-to-him wheels. Like bicycle randonneuring, sometimes the best pee spots are those isolated gems with wide blue skies and mountain views.

Ever since my first Hardy Boys mystery, I've always been fascinated by the Mesa Verde Cliff Dwellings, and I was eager to share that fascination with Mike. Fortunately for both of us, Mike too was delighted!

Here, note the circular stone pattern with the hole in the middle and the ladder poking through.

This is a Kiva or common room. It's believed it was both a ceremonial space and a common area for the family or clan to cook, lounge, weave, warm up, etc. None of the Kivas in the Park has an intact roof, so this roof is a re-creation.

Below, Mike walks the perimeter of a Kiva. This is how they look today, incomplete without their roofs.

Inside the reroofed Kiva, one gets a deep sense of the protection, comfort and sacredness of space.

The ladder goes up through the smoke hole, and the dark rectangular opening behind the ladder in this pic is the ventilation opening. It draws in fresh air from above which is dissipated by striking the low wall between the ladder and the opening, and the smoke is drawn up through the ladder hole.

Like ancient peoples everywhere who used what was available, the Ancestral Puebloans sculpted an interdependent living from the canyons, mesas, trees and rocks.

A trio of Manos and Matates. The Matate is the long stone upon which the grain is ground. The Mano is the grinder.

For those who live in the Southwest this is all old hat. But then that is the beauty of randonnering, by bicycle or car: discovery for oneself.

For me, re-discovering relationship was really what this trip was about. This "auto randonneuring" with Mike, now an adult, was our journey of re-discovering ourselves as relating adults. Amidst grand Western beauty, the appreciation of your son, of who he has become, is deeply moving. A father-son relationship is as profound today as it was in the Kiva. Sitting around the fire or sitting in the front seat of a Corolla with time to kill, the key is being together. I loved the being together part of this brevet.

Has anything of substance really changed today over these ancient times, or are we just more technologically advanced? And in these advances, are we losing time with one another? Presence with one another?

One of the timeless father-son rituals is the father's teaching the son important life skills...like how to put food on the table, described below. See the Gobbler in the center of this pic?

Lucky for Mike, I was about to teach him that age old hunting skill: tricking a Tom Turkey into believing you are his love mate. No, really.

On an early morning walk before sunup, we heard a bird call and Mike asked what it was. I told him it was the gobbling of a male turkey, a Tom. He was somewhere in the trees and brush on the other side of this narrow canyon. He gobbled again and I instinctively gobbled back. Instantly and with the urgency that only imagined sex can bring, that Tom was paying attention. Now at this point, he figured I was a competitor in Life's game of species perpetuation. I was another gobbler...in his territory.

I gobbled a few more times and each time he responded with greater intensity. Then I paused, and gave a plaintive hen turkey call: yelllp, yelllp, yelllp.

GOBBLE, GOBBLE, GOBBLE, went the Tom. Hot Diggity Dog Diggity he was thinking; there is a hen over there as well as the Tom who is intruding on my territory. Alert, Alert, Alert! Stand at the ready for SEX!!!

Now when I hen-yelped again, he went crazy. And he also was moving. We could tell that. Mike was duly amazed that his Dad was talking Turkey. This was cool!

Then, sure enough, after a particularly sexy yelp on my part, if I do say so myself, that Tom jump-flutters down onto a broad sandstone bench and starts to gobble and strut and fan wide his tail feathers. His comb was bright, mating season red, and his long beard shook as he strutted.

After a few more yelps with solid, highly excited gobble-responses from him, the air was charged with sex. I found myself thinking about calling my wife, I noticed Mike began to talk about his new girlfriend back home, and that gobbler was strutting and strutting.

Then, the magic was gone. That gobbler gave an alarm call somehow realizing the gig was up, and flew. Thing is he didn't fly away from us so much, but rather, obliquely toward us. I figure he came across to our side of the canyon so he could sneak up on us as Gobblers are sometimes wont to do if there is a competitor. But every time I impatiently called, we got no response. Nothing but silence. Love--or was it just lust?--was no longer in the air it seemed.

But come to think of it, love didn't fly away. It was really surrounding us. Father and son hanging together was a loving moment regardless of old Tom Turkey. The same now silent canyons and mesas that nestled generations of Ancestral Puebloan fathers and sons held us in their magic still. That magic of interdependence. And of course the lessons flow both ways. Just as when he was a child, Mike teaches me gentleness, kindness and humility. I too am duly amazed at his presence in the quiet places.

On our way through the mountains toward Denver we came across this big mountain bike race: the Chalk Creek Stampede.

 

Lots of road cyclists too!

Again though, it was the quieter moments that brought the on-the-road satisfaction that eludes us in our daily lives.

Deep, grand and gracious country.

 

At the Denver airport a departing passenger took our photo as I grabbed a flight home and Mike took his new ride, now fully his, to explore his own canyons and mesas.

Keep it interdependent,

CurioRando

Custom Framebuilding by Tony Pereira

Detachable Low Rider Front Rack.

What I like about Tony's framebuilding is the combining of imagination with clean lines and execution.

I may have to ride it without panniers just to display the low rider rack lines.

Light mount for battery headlight.

Detail showing generator-powered light mount.

For the full collection of Tony's photos of my new Randonnneuring Bicycle, please check out his Flickr site. For more on how my new bicycle got to this point, please check out "custom bicycle" in the "Topics" sidebar to the right.

Keep it elegant,

CurioRando

Bikes and Kids, Kids and Bikes...and Adults

Adult Basics Class (ABC) Instructor, Davey Oil, sharing a smile with wrench-in-training, Robert, left.

Bike Works, the local bike shop nearest our house (I can coast to it) is a non-profit designed to save us from ourselves by teaching kids about bicycles. I've written before about them (search "Bike Works" under topics in the right sidebar), and now I've finally dipped in my toes.

The official mission of Bike Works is to "build sustainable communities by educating youth and promoting bicycling". What got me hooked was that I wanted to learn to maintain my bicycles, the right way. Bike Works offers the Adult Basics Class for just that purpose...sort of.

They lure you in with the notion that you'll learn, but then they cut the cost of the class in half if you'll commit to twelve hours volunteering to help youth learn. Very clever.

I took the bait, and yesterday was my next to last class. After that, I'm committed to advancing this youth-saving-us-from-ourselves agenda by volunteering.

Matt, another student, has already started volunteering, and he told me that his own learning has advanced because of his volunteering with the kids. Hmmm. I can see that.

At any rate, I'm committed, and I have to admit: I enjoy the class. We learned the proper methods to overhaul wheel hubs, headsets, bottom brackets, and brakes. All good and essential stuff.

I especially enjoy working with hand tools on simple problems on a simple machine that is simply good for us...and of course, good for our kids. It is just deep down satisfying to disassemble, clean, inspect, adjust and reassemble a set of bearings and have them operate smoooooothly. Very saaaatisfying. That is if you know what to do, and you have a system.

And the Bike Works curiculum is designed to teach you a system that gives you confidence. Best of all, the class is totally approachable. Don't know a headset from a braze-on? Not to worry. Not only will you not be made to feel foolish, you will find yourself laughing so your fears vanish. I like that.

Here, Assistant Instructor Martín helps Ester with the brake adjustment, and as you see it is Ester's hands that are on-bike, not Martin's. (Martin's name is actually with an accented i, so his name is pronounced Marteen, but I'll be danged if I can make this program allow me an accented letter even if I can overhaul a bearing set!! Grrrr.)

The most famous former Bike Works wrench to long distance and randonneuring cyclists is Kent Peterson of Kent's Bike Blog fame. But that's another story, and he tells it best.

Keep it about the kids,

CurioRando

Electric Assist Bikes Test Drive/Ride

Here's my pal, Vesteinn, looking both ways as he Test Drives/Rides an electric assist bike at the Bike Works Annual Bike Swap Saturday after our tour of the South Loop of Lake Washington.

Part of the mechanism on the Madsen I tested.

What threw me was that the basket is fixed to the frame, not the fork. Every time I turned that bars I expected the basket (which is large in your field of view) to turn too. When it didn't, I felt like something was wrong; I even felt unbalanced. This from cycling with my front hadlebar bag attached by rack and decaleur.

Now this seemed like the way to go! The woman behind the bars is the owner of both this Madsen and a Surly Big Dummie (cargo bike without the assist). She loves them both.

I found myself not wanting to pedal at all. They brought out the lazy in me!

Keep it unassisted,

CurioRando

Sputnik Hub Detaches from Orbiting Cog

In previous posts about repairing the Sputnik Hub I created by failing to remove the cog and freewheel before removing the spokes and rim, I told all about my boneheaded maneuver. I was left with what the owner of one bike shop called a "beautiful paperweight". Nothing could be done, he said.

Well, that just left me determined to find a way, and thanks to one of the commenters, Will deRosset, I finally did it. Will suggested putting several spokes back into the hub and lace them back onto the rim. I still had a tough time though and even with a chain whip I couldn't crack it.

VAR Tool 365, Freewheel Vise, depicted here from none other than Sheldon Brown's reprint, helped me hold the fixed cog fixed while I turned the wheel as shown below.Voila!

You'll notice I removed the axle and bearings so the hub would sit onto the freewheel vise (VAR 365).

The now fixed cog has now been liberated from the hub, and I only have to remove the spokes/rim and reassemble the axle and bearings. TA DA!

Thanks, Will!

Keep it as a lesson learned,

CurioRando

Nice Handlebar Bag...But Can You Carry a Tune?

I find that Non-Randonneurs tend to appreciate my front handlebar bag. Not accustomed to front bags, other cyclists seem instantly drawn to its combination of utility and style. At least that's how I prefer to interpret their comments. On yesterday's ride, I heard more of the same.

I was invited on a ride around the South end loop of Lake Washington by my friend Vésteinn (he did his first 200k with me last December) and his pals from Seattle Pro Musica. If you aren't familiar, Seattle Pro Musica is a world-renowned choir. I mean they are excellent vocal musicians. There are 70 in the choir, and four of the 70 Seattlle Pro Musicites rode yesterday. Our fifth was a friend of theirs, and I made it six.

What was different for me about yesterday's ride was that we took our time, stopped frequently, and basked in the warm sunshine. No time deadlines. In fact I was getting so relaxed I was reminded of that game from the Church Summer Camp of my youth: the Lion Hunt. The idea of the Lion Hunt is that you tell the tale of your journey by making pantomiming movements to depict all the highlights of the adventure. I always liked swishing your hands and  forearms together in front you to replicate swishing through the tall grass. Remember?

If you don't know what the heck I'm talking about, here's a version I found online:

I’m goin’ on a lion hunt (march in place)
But I’m not afraid.
Got me shotgun (pretend to hold a rifle)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
But I don’t see no lion (hold hands up and shake head)
Come to a river
Swim the river (make swimming gestures)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
But I don’t see no lion (hold hands up and shake head)
I’m goin’ on a lion hunt (march in place)
But I’m not afraid.
Got me shotgun (pretend to hold a rifle)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
But I don’t see no lion (hold hands up and shake head)
Come to a tree
Climb the tree (make gestures climbing up and down)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
But I don’t see no lion (hold hands up and shake head)
I’m goin’ on a lion hunt (march in place)
But I’m not afraid.
Got me shotgun (pretend to hold a rifle)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
But I don’t see no lion (hold hands up and shake head)
Come to a swamp
Through the swamp (make gestures walking on tippy toes)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
But I don’t see no lion (hold hands up and shake head)
I’m goin’ on a lion hunt (march in place)
But I’m not afraid.
Got me shotgun (pretend to hold a rifle)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
But I don’t see no lion (hold hands up and shake head)
Come to a cave
Through the cave (crouch down and walk in place)
Lookin’ for a lion (make gestures looking around)
There’s the lion! (point into the group)
Aim that shotgun! (pretend to aim a rifle)
Fire that shotgun! (pretend to fire a rifle)
BOOM!!!!!!
I missed him, I missed him!!
Back through the cave (crouch down and walk in place)
Back through the swamp (make gestures walking on tippy toes)
Back down the tree (make gestures climbing up and down)
Back through the river (make swimming gestures)
I’m goin’ on a lion hunt (march in place)
But I’m not afraid.
And ya wanna know why?
‘Cause we’ve been a-lying the whole time!!

So, ready for a South Loop of Lake Washington Ride Report...Lion-Huntin' Style?

Goin' on a Loop Ride (arms form big loop)

We are not afraid (pushing chests out with bravado)

We got us our water bottles (glugging from a bottle)

And we got us our bars (pretend to eat a bar)

We stop for photo ops (some pose/preen, others snap photos)

While half of us are lost (as if your searching)

One grabs a cell phone (dialing motion)

And the another answers quick (answering in haste)

Reunited at the tower (looking way up)

We greet each other (happily embracing)

One stops for lunch (eating motions)

The rest charge forward (half starting yet really wanting to linger and lounge and eat)

And so we pedal on (pedaling motions)

Till the spooky swamp (looks of dread)

We bumpy bump on baordwalk (as if cycling over very bumpy ridges)

Hoping trolls are fast asleep (like a fast asleep troll)

Cross over high bridge (looking way down)

While boats sail below (be a sailor)

Over to the Island (be an island!)

Need another break (looking tired)

Crash an outdoor wedding (look exceedingly happy)

Groom sweeps up the bride (sweep her up!)

Lays a big kiss on her (big fat betrothal kiss)

All start to cry (dab a tear)

Come upon a playground (play and laugh)

Kids swing back and forth (swing!)

Scraming at their parents (scream!)

Higher! Higher! (gesture for higher)

Gliding onto floating bridge (be a floating bridge)

Flying fast and free (coasting fast)

Cars go zipping right by (cars whip by)

Clouds just float along (clouds barely float along)

Looking back where we've been (wistful gazing)

Ride is nearly through (sigh)

Saddle up and go home (climb aboard)

Some of this was true (shrug)

And for the record, I carry alot of stuff when I ride cause you never know what adventure will come our way, but I cannot carry a tune. I'll leave the singing to Seattle Pro Musica folks, but maybe I can pantomime to the lyrics at their upcoming performance May 14 and 15 at St. James Cathedral?!

Keep it in tune,

CurioRando

Get the Skyhook for a Spatially Aligned Randonneur Front Rack

Tony Pereira designed and built this adjustable Front Rack Jig so he could place the rack in spatial relationship to my bike prior to building/affixing the stays for my front rack. He said the time it took to build the jig was saved just in building my rack.

See the pear logo?

The Jig fits onto quill or threadless steerers.

Curvy chainstay.

Back in my marble mason/bricklaying days, we used to joke about getting the skyhook to come lift up something we were stuggling with. Tony built his own skyhook! I just looked it up, and I'll be doggone if Wiki doesn't have a definition.

For comments from other builders on Tony's jig and other work, go to Tony's Flickr site.

For more posts about this buildup, choose the "custom bicycle" topic in the right sidebar.


Keep it spatially aligned,

CurioRando

Choo Choo Ch'Boogie!

Ever get your bicycle wheel caught in the groove next to railroad tracks?

I have, and I know lots of experienced cyclists who have also even though we know better.

On a recent 300k, I saw a rider Karl who was always ahead of me by a kilometer or so for much of the day. Occassionally, I'd see him up ahead on a flatter, straighter section of road. At one point I saw him riding way ahead in the distance. Then I saw what looked like something in the middle of the road. A cow? No. It was Karl, broadside to the road.

As I got to him he was dusting himself off, inspecting his ripped clothing and taking an inventory of the condition his condition was in. He seemed OK excepting the ripped jacket and general banging up one gets from getting one's wheel stuck in the gap between the rail track and the pavement.

He said he just kept going too fast. The track also intersected the road at an oblique angle, and it required an especially cautious approach.

My fall came on a morning commute to work a few years ago. How many times had I crossed those very tracks? Countless.

One side benefit of wider tires is that they don't get caught as easily. That's a benefit I'll have with my new ride with its 650B tires.

In thinking about this post I got this old song stuck in my head: Choo Choo Ch'Boogie. Heard of it?

Written by Darling, Horton and Gabler according to Wikipedia, I first heard it at State College, Pa during my college days. It was performed by our local bar band, Tahoka Freeway. I loved the song, but never fully got the lyrics. 

The song was first performed by Louis Jordan in 1946, and it tells the tale of the returning GI's from WWII. They returned home (once they hit the coast) by train. The song recounts their high expectations for employment opportunities only to find the opportunities not so much. It tells this tale through the refrain of the clickity clacking train.

My Dad came home from the war the same way. My Mum tells the story of how she was in a cab on her way to pick up her returning GI-husband who she hadn't seen at all for the two years he'd spent in Europe. The cabbie figured out that she had asked to go to the wrong train station (imagine more than one train station in any town today!), and he told her she had it wrong! He then took her to the right one where she indeed met my Dad. 

Today, they'd have texted one another that evening and of course would have emailed all along any way. Far cry from the occassional letter over several years!

Since my Dad had worked for Westinghouse before the war and such companies were required to take back the soldiers, he returned to his old job.

Before I veer off further from the subject of getting thrown by the tracks, here is a link to Louis Jordan's version. I prefer the Tahoka Freeway version, a little wilder and with slide steel guitar and beer. Here are the lyrics of Choo Choo Ch'Boogie:

Choo Choo Ch'Boogie

Headin' for the station with a pack on my back

I'm tired of transportation in the back of my hack

I love to hear the rhythm of the clickety clack

And hear the lonesome whistle see the smoke from the stack to pal around

With democratic fellow named mac

So take me right back to the track, jack

Choo-choo, choo-choo, ch'boogie, woo-woo

Woo-woo, ch'boogie, choo-choo, choo-choo, ch'boogie

Take me right back to the track, jack

You reach your destination but you don't go back

You need some compensation to get back in the black

You take a morning paper from the top of the stack

And read the situations from the front to the back

But the only job that's open needs a man with a knack

So put it right back in the rack, jack

Choo-choo, choo-choo, ch'boogie, woo-woo

Woo-woo, ch'boogie, choo-choo, choo-choo, ch'boogie

Take me right back to the track, jack

Gonna settle down by the railroad track

Live the life o'riley in the beat down shack

When i hear a whistle i can peep thru the crack

Watch the train rollin' when it's ballin' the jack

Love to hear the rhythm of the clickety clack

So take me right back to the track, jack

Choo-choo, choo-choo, ch'boogie, woo-woo

Woo-woo, ch'boogie, choo-choo, choo-choo, ch'boogie

Take me right back to the track, jack

Take me right back to the track, jack

Keep it right back to the track,

CurioRando

Custom Frame Build, More Photos

Extension being ground clean, I think.

Unfinished fillets.

All photos courtesy of builder, Tony Pereira of Pereira Cycles. His Flickr site is here.

For earlier build-up photos and my reaction, see Frame takes form...beautiful, curvaceous form.

For an earlier visit to Tony's shop for a fit and such, see My randonneuring Bicycle, Part 4, Let the Build Begin!

For more posts about this buildup, choose the "custom bicycle" topic in the right sidebar.


Keep it recorded,

CurioRando