Enough!

In the wake of controversies surrounding Armstrong and Contador--or can we even refer to the "wake" yet, since the messes are still unresolved?--I've come to the reluctant conclusion that the UCI and all other cycling authorities need to ban testing.

That's right, ban testing. It's not that I like the idea of riders doping. But the problem is, testing has apparently not had anything like the desired effect. Instead, testing has created a sort of shadow competition that means whoever has the best doctor or chemist to figure out how to beat the doping test has an advantage over other riders. This is not the sort of competition we want to see. So the authorities should simply get out of the business. They're not helping.

Of single speeds and chain whips (sounds like leather vests or rubber underpants ought somehow to be involved, doesn't it?)

Despite the fact that I've climbed every steep hill in my riding area on my single-speed with the 18 tooth rear cog, I have aspired for some time to put on a 20- or possibly 22-tooth rear cog. I've got another single-speed with an 18-tooth cog which I will keep for when I'm feeling masochistic. Having never changed a cog before in my life (a major accomplishment last week was to replace a bottom bracket bearing in the same bike), I knew special tools (not the kind Congressmen like to photograph) would be involved. So I looked at the bike, looked at pictures on the Internet, and got lucky (no, not those pictures, and not that kind of lucky): I actually got the right freewheel tool the first time, without having to reorder anything. But then I came to terms with the fact that I needed a chain whip--another mysterious tool whose use I had never grasped until I needed one. Since the cog is self-tightening in riding use, and since it's the nature of the freewheel to spin freely the other direction, the chain whip holds the cog while you unscrew (using the freewheel tool) the ring that holds the cog in place. Chain whips are not that expensive, but I wanted the job done now, and the nearest shop that might sell me one is thirty miles away. So again to the Internet--where someone pointed out the not-until-then-at-least-not-to-me obvious, which is that you can wrap an old chain around the cog, clamp onto the old chain with Vise-Grips (or in my case, cheap Chinese locking plier knock-offs), and wallah, you have a serviceable chain whip. Which is the only useful bit of info in this post. The ring was on so tight that I had to use a lever on both the pliers and the wrench, but the job is done.

Of earthquakes and bikes

If there's a silver lining to the cloud of earthquakes and tsunamis in Japan, this might be it: more people are riding bikes there. What disaster will it take for us in this country to park our SUVs and make bike lanes?:
http://3speedtouringinjapan.blogspot.com

Naked bike ride

The headline proclaims "The 40 Best Pictures From The World Naked Bike Ride ‘09 (NSFW)." Personally, I'm skeptical. Looks like the choices were made in order to render the collection, if not not NSFW, then at least a little closer to being SFW than if it really had the best photos of naked and not-quite-naked people on bikes. You decide: http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/the-40-best-pictures-from-the-world-naked-bike-rid

It's Alive! Or Ten Miles and a Six (er, er, What Comes After Six?)-Pack Later

Or, actually, It works!

A follow-up on the how-to-fix-a-flat-when-you-don't-have-anything-to-fix-a-flat-with stuff: Not only did the knot in the tube get me home the day before yesterday, but, two days later and no air added, it still has enough air to ride. This knot-in-the-leaky-tube thing is too cool to be true.

Stranded's (Not Very) Big Ride, or How To Fix a Flat When You Don't Have Anything To Fix a Flat With

I went out early this morning, about 9:00 (which is early for me, on a Saturday, anyway; normally at that time I'm still trying to figure out whose underwear I have on, if I happen to have any on. But that's a story for another time.) I aspired to another 50-miler, but after 20 miles or so, I had a flat. The back one, of course. No problem--like any well-prepared cyclist, I put in a new tube, after having checked the tire for whatever may have caused the puncture. I found nothing and assumed that whatever caused the puncture had come and gone. An erroneous conclusion, it turned out.

Five miles or so later, again came the sickening feeling of a mushy back tire. I pumped the tire up, went a quarter of a mile, pumped the tire up again, went another quarter of a mile, and realized all hope that the problem was a loose valve or some such easily fixed problem was in vain.

I didn't have another tube. I didn't have any patches. I didn't even have any of that disgusting slime stuff that never works, and anyhow, how do you get it into a Presta valve? Did I just claim I was a well-prepared cyclist?

The options didn't look attractive. Call for help? Unthinkable! Stuff the tire with grass? That's gotta take forever, and be a mushy ride into the bargain. Ride flat and ruin my tire, not to mention the wheel? No.

Once upon a time, I read an article in Bicycling magazine that said a last resort is to cut the tube in two at the site of the leak, tie a knot in both ends, air it up, and ride. At the time, it sounded kinda bogus--I mean, come on, a knot? How much air can that hold? And of course, I had no knife, but I did find the sliver of gravel that caused the leak by doing what I should have done the first time: I aired up the tube sans tire, spotted the leak, and knew exactly where to look in the tire. Sure enough, an almost microscopic bit of limestone, ready to ruin tubes I didn't have all day.

So I tied a very tight knot in the intact tube, with the leaky spot outside the loop, aired it up, and rode. Amazingly enough, it worked. A bit of a bumpy ride when the knot came round, but it sure beat the alternatives. I made it home, and managed to get 35 miles in. Not a bad ride.

50!, Part II

Single-speed mountain bike, but on the highways (the proverbial roads less traveled near Mammoth Cave, Kentucky). Many hills. The picture says, if not a thousand words, at least fifty miles worth of words (however many that might be).