Riding, Weights, Reading, Working

Riding

I have started bicycling again, but not a lot, during the past month. Replaced my really old Clement Xplor USH tires that failed me in fine gravel and grit last June. I’ve gone back to Continental Tour Ride tires for my Jamis, but this time 32 mm width versus the 37 mm Tour Rides I’d installed on the bike back in 2014. My original post about those tires is found here: https://christov10.wordpress.com/2014/10/10/first-ride-continental-tour-ride-tires/ The WordPress post formatting scheme in use now renders intuitive linking a thing of the distant past.

About those tires, though, they were easy to install and I am again able to ride with confidence the degraded tarmac here at Stepford. You will understand that I am cautious when making turns, especially that one at the bottom of my street where I came to grief last June. It’s been several years since really long rides were part of my fitness and fun regime, but I noticed no problematic rolling resistance or heaviness/sluggishness using the new Tour Rides.

Weights

Weightlifting’s been my primary fitness activity for two or three years, now. I have been lifting on the average five to six days a week. I’ve had interesting political and theological discussions with two or three of the people I’ve met while working out in the early a.m. This weekend, I’m taking a break from the gym. I slept in until 7:00 am yesterday morning. Today I got up, as usual, at 4:00 am, drank a cup of coffee, read the news, and decided I’d post something here instead of the chest, shoulders, and triceps workout I had planned.

My workout schedule is typically: Day 1 – Legs and core; Day 2 – Back and biceps; Day 3 – Chest, shoulders, and triceps; Repeat. Some days I will do nothing but cardio using a treadmill, elliptical walker, or lateral walker. If I go too many days without a tiring workout, I get irritable.

We sold our last Volvo, a 2006 XC70, last Fall. I’ve been driving a Honda Accord hybrid sedan since then and that car hasn’t got roof racks. I bought a set of Handi-Racks inflatable roof racks for use with our folding kayaks. Soon as I get the garage organized, I’ll assemble the RZ-96 so my son and I can get some paddling in before the hot weather.

Reading

I’ve still been reading Galaxy’s Edge novels and other military science fiction series. I enjoy reading, probably too much, and read the way most people binge-watch series on Hulu or some other streaming service. But writing about what I read, even though I think a lot about and critically interact with the content – writing about what I read is something that’s hard for me to do. Possibly that’s because I want to intelligently and seriously address insights provoked by and areas of philosophical agreement or disagreement with what I’m reading. And that’s a lot of work.

It’s easier to post clever, flippant responses to news items online or at a social media site than it is to compose a logical critique or review of even a few paragraphs regarding something I’ve just read. For instance, I’ve read Karen Traviss’ Nomad novels – The Best of Us and Mother Death – a couple of times but it took several months for me to finally post a review of the latter at Amazon although it was stuff I’d had in mind for quite a while. Those two novels, by the way, are well worth your time. Here’s an unwieldy link to an Amazon page where you can preview or purchase both titles: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09NHNHJR5?searchxofy=true&binding=kindle_edition&ref_=dbs_s_aps_series_rwt_tkin&qid=1648983662&sr=8-1

Working

Because I have some kind of mathematics disability, I’m still working with people instead of information and/or machines. For the past year, I’ve been working at a facility much closer to the house than formerly. My previous drive was a sixty mile round trip each work day. Now it’s about 19 miles round trip. Huge savings in time and fuel. That’s what enables me to get to the gym in the early morning hours before work.

Mountain Goat Trail

Last Sunday morning, my son and I rode the Mountain Goat Trail at Sewanee.  This was his first ride on a Rails to Trails paved bike path, and he very much enjoyed the largely motorway-distraction-free experience, as well as the opportunity to ride through wooded sections that felt “like the middle of nowhere.”  The trail starts near Woody’s Bike Shop in Sewanee and ends at the Dollar General Store in, I think it is, Monteagle.  No more than five miles, probably closer to 4.6, each way.

The route includes a few gentle hills, maybe two secondary road crossings and one crossing at Highway 41.  Parking’s available at the Sewanee trailhead where there’s also an informational marker discussing the history of the former railroad as well as a topographical map of the trail.  At one point, there’s a 90 degree turn where the trail is constructed of wood and elevated over a declevity and around a property line.  In another place, gravel and sand tends to wash across the bike path from an adjacent gravel/sand pit or quarry – that’s the property around which the trail turns with the wooden elevation.

My son managed managed all of the trail well on his Modikoso superbike except for the gravel and clumps of sand across the path from the quarry.  He had to dismount and push the bike over it.  I rode over it on the Jamis Supernova with no real concern.  On the way back, oddly enough, we found the hazard had been, it looked like, completely washed away.  Odd, because although there’d been slight precipitation during the intervening time, nothing that would clear the trail.  Maybe somebody from the quarry hosed it down?

 

 

Fredonia’s Not Klopstokia…

…but I rode out there anyway, last Saturday morning.

Fredonia, or Freedonia – I don’t recall which, is a fictional European country that borders on another fictional country, Sylvania, in an old Marx Brothers film.  The Marx brothers were, along with Charlie Chaplin, a sort of Alan Alda and/or Jerry Seinfeld of the black and white era of comedic film.  Self-important, sometimes funny, very well paid, and so forth.

When it comes to fictional European countries, I prefer Klopstokia every time.

Here are some photos from my Fredonian ride – an easy 21 mile loop from Pixley, in Pot County, Tennessee, where I took my car to get new tires early Saturday morning, through the Fredonian countryside.

Saturday 5 August 2017 was the most beautiful August day I can remember in about 20 years living in Tennessee.  Warm but not hot.

I returned to the modern world riding across Interstate 24 and then on in to town, loaded my bike back up on the station wagon’s bike rack and drove home on new tires.

Normandy Ride, Second Lunch, & Colored Pencil

Last Thursday, I again rode through Normandy, this time arriving by roads I’d not previously ridden.  On a bridge over the Duck River end of Normandy Lake under which I used to paddle fairly often, I stopped and snapped a couple of pictures. 

Because I was hungry again by the time I got there, I stopped and ate a sort of second lunch at The River Café.  Even though I was wearing tight-fitting cycling apparel, dripping sweat, and doubtless stank, and offered to sit outside, the waitress told me I was welcome to sit inside the restaurant.  The day’s high temperature, oddly low for this time of year, was about 60 degrees Fahrenheit.  I’d hoped to get a bowl of chicken rice soup but that day the only soup on the menu was tomato basil.  Instead, I got a grilled Cajun chicken sandwich with a side of fries that tasted fantastic and was easy on my stomach when I continued my ride.  Also, got a water bottle refilled.  The friendly service and good food warrant return visits to The River Café.

I’ve written elsewhere about those lousy Kucharik cycling gloves I got last year; that they disintegrated within the first 90 days of use.  What I haven’t written about yet is what Kucharik does well, and that is make merino wool cycling jerseys.  Two Christmases ago, I received a bright orange Kucharik long-sleeve wool jersey.  I asked for and got an Extra Large, but a Large would have fit better – I’ve tried to shrink it a bit in the dryer, and it fits a little better, now.  My choice of orange has nothing to do with the University of Tennessee.  It’s a color I’ve liked since the mid-1980’s.  The jersey is comfortable, with sleeves pushed up, in temperatures to about 70 degrees, when worn with shorts, and is able to accommodate a base-layer for winter temperatures.  Additionally, the garment does not retain the stink of my sweat after a hard ride.  Highly recommended and can be purchased cheaper than elsewhere at Bike Tires Direct.  No, I don’t receive any compensation from Bike Tires Direct, but lacking a conveniently located bicycle shop here at Stepford, they’re a good source of reasonably priced bike stuff and their customer service is second to none.

In regard to the color orange and, incidentally, Portland, Oregon, I recently emailed scans of a few small images to a friend who works at the unit where I completed my recent internship.  She’d been working on a fish painting for one of the rooms in her house, and I remarked that the fish I have depicted tend all to have an orange cast to them – that their souls, if they have souls, are orange in color.  The two larger images below are from or about my time in Portland. 

The image of the mermaid, the fins or flukes of her tail behind her shoulders like the wings of a celestial being, I call The Angel of the Waters and she represents the Williamette River where the Fremont Bridge crosses over from North East to North West Portland – all of humanity is unaware of her as anything other than a body of water to be crossed or used.  Her only means of getting the attention of passersby is to rise up and harm them, but in this image she exercises patience, refraining from doing harm but not wholly content to be ignored.  Fish crownlike keep their places around her head – they are orange.  I gave the original of this drawing to my younger sister for a wedding gift, if memory serves.

When I lived at Portland, I had a series of strange, frightening, and semi-recurring dreams – for a couple of weeks most of my nights were troubled by dreams each resuming where the other had left off.  My second-floor apartment on North New York Avenue had a view of the Saint Johns Bridge.  The image wherein can be seen the Saint Johns Bridge (perspective all wrong, by the way), the yellow house, and the hamadryad depicts a scene from one of these dreams during which I, my dream self, remained hidden during the hours of daylight to elude discovery by those who inadvertently served the evil powers that roamed the streets by night.  As I sketched the image lightly in pencil, I realized the tree looked a little like a woman, so I developed that into the composition.  As to what is written below, the allusion is to that part of Paul’s letter to the church at Rome in the eighth chapter that talks about the fallen state of the created order in relation to the redemptive work of God in Christ.

And then, a few marginal scribbles made during one of many time-wasting trainings (these in about 2004) while employed by the State.  Fish – again fish – a recurring theme in my work.

Thoughts on Meaninglessness and Belonging

Last Wednesday evening, I skipped a congregational meeting during which we’d planned to continue reading and discussing the Old Testament book Ecclesiastes.  Prior to joining (several years ago) the congregation of which I am now a member, I routinely skipped congregational meetings and almost never attended those scheduled midweek because I had a strong sense my contributions in terms of presence and participation were meaningless.  In turn, I experienced no learning from them save a growing dissatisfaction and unease when present with that group of people in its various activities.

Experience (although I don’t consciously seek “religious experience”) in the congregation of which I am currently part is vastly different from what I knew previously as a member of that other local church.  The congregation’s meetings serve as frameworks within which learning occurs as scriptures of Old and New Testaments are discussed, as opposed to a framework for upholding social and denominational norms..  Even in this setting, though, sometimes I observe a tendency toward groupthink – probably an unavoidable sociological condition.  I bridle against it because I am incapable of conforming my mind, nay, my self, to group norms that do not seem reasonable to me.  I cannot or will not color within lines that I haven’t drawn, myself, that don’t make sense to me, or weren’t drawn by an authority I recognize as greater than myself – the hand of God. 

This all sounds grandiose, doesn’t it?  Nevertheless, it’s my honest evaluation. 

Think of a graph depicting multiple bell-shaped curves radially extending from a central point (think of an X or an asterisk drawn with squiggles) – on any of these bells (which may represent interests, enthusiasms, intelligence, aptitudes, personality styles, and so forth) most people fall between the lines which are defined by one standard deviation above and below the mean.  I would guess that most people can be “found” only on one or two of the radial arms.  I can be “found” well beyond the mean on most of the arms that serve to capture data pertaining to whatever it is that I am.  On some of those graph arms, I’m almost the only data point I can perceive.  All this to explain why I am incapable of conforming mind and self to group norms – while rules of ordinary decency and courtesy do apply to me, as do those laws that protect the rights of individuals from one another individually or in aggregate – most human-derived and agreed upon strictures and systems of meaning mean not much at all to me.  I don’t see the value in them nor can I affirm the ‘truth’ of the perceptions they for some serve to enshrine.

I think this is simply basic, rational understanding.  In other places, possibly even in a post here, I’ve remarked that the road to self-understanding is a dead end street because insight (about one’s self, others, circumstance, etc.)  does not always or even often provide of itself the power to alter or better what is understood of the self.

In practical terms, what this means for me is that I experience frustration when my insights and, to use a hackneyed term, the ‘box’s’ inability to contain my thought and those of my thoughts, themselves, are not understood (agreement is unimportant or without valued meaning – to me).  I feel this most intensely when that occurs while interacting with people who matter to me – like the people who are part of my congregation or the family of my birth.

A related problem I experience is when I join groups that form around shared interests in activities, such as kayaking or cycling.  What I find is that, while interested in, engaged in, and engaged in thought about the activity and things related to it, such as gear and conditions of use, other people are not interested in the same way that I am interested.  While in one sense, I have something in common with other club members, in practical terms, I really do not have much at all in common with them. 

In conjunction with (or it may arise from the foregoing) a social awkwardness you’d have to be me to understand, this makes any kind of participation in group activities potentially unpleasant for me.  Oddly enough, I haven’t experienced this unpleasantness in relation to my current congregation.  But I did experience it last Wednesday, the evening I skipped the usual congregational meeting for scriptural and theological reflection in favor of a cycling club activity.

That cycling club activity was a local Ride of Silence – a slow four mile or so ride through town on busy streets with police escort.  I wore normal street clothes because it was only a slow, four-mile ride, and showed up early.  That’s one way to manage social awkwardness – show up early and strike up conversation with one or two people I already know.  Also, being late means finding a place to park and possible difficulty hearing what’s going on.  I said hello to one guy I know slightly and he completely ignored my greeting – jackass? didn’t hear? preoccupied?  Who knows.  I didn’t really know anyone else and my attempts to converse all proved abortive.  I felt unpleasantly like the only one of my kind in the group, even though there were several club members present I genuinely like.

Most of the other riders wore what cyclists call their “kits” – matching lycra shorts and jerseys, etc.  Some, to be sure, rode from their homes, however distant, to the assembly point.  I wore the same pair of baggy shorts I wore the day I bought the Miyata 610 in Louisville two or three years ago, and a faded red Dickies t-shirt.  No sense in wearing Lycra and chamois for a four-mile ride – if my nads are so diseased as to go numb on a short, easy bike ride, there’s something bad wrong with them.   

The ride leader gave a short talk about Ride of Silence, the police sergeant’s SUV rolled out ahead of us and police on 29’ers brought up the rear.  I thought it was cool that the police chief, himself, rode along. 

I rode the Jamis Supernova, a cyclocross bike with heavy, slow commuter tires, because the tube I’d patched for the Miyata’s front tire didn’t hold air.  Mercifully, for me, the ride of silence is silent, so no conversation is expected or wanted.  Some of the guys on racing bikes in full kit ahead of me pointed (as is courteous to do on group rides) at gravel and road surface irregularities.  On a cyclocross bike equipped with Continental Tour Ride tires, I several times caught myself thinking, “That $#!+’z not a hazard for me.”  But I likewise pointed out the hazards for those behind.

When the ride was over, I pedaled right up to my car, loaded up the bike, and left immediately.  Back home, it felt good to sit on the livingroom couch with my wife and son.  In the warm embrace of my family, I felt wanted, accepted, understood – that I belonged.  Later, I sent an email to my friend, our congregation’s pastor: 

Hi Doros,
I guess I’m just not bikey enough; won’t skip another meeting for a cycling activity.  During the entire ride, I found myself thinking, "I could have been discussing Scripture with my favorite people."  The Ride of Silence had no emotional or spiritual impact on me and only served to remind me how little I have in common with most people, even cycling enthusiasts.
Cheers,
Chris

Returning to practical matters, how does one cope with one’s own awkwardness, being out of step with and occasionally feeling unpleasantly alone in when in the company of numerous others he might reasonably expect to have something in common?  A constellation of maladaptive strategies fueled by feelings of grief and anger are available to the sufferer, but I’d like to list here a few methods that have worked for me and enabled me to function in a world largely constructed by and for the masses:

• I acknowledge my feelings identifying and categorizing them without feeling ashamed of having them, then make a conscious decision not to let them curdle my spirit and mind.  This is something that’s only occurred to me here in the past several months.  Difficult it is in the moment and when experiencing unpleasant emotion to become aware that the choice is one’s own whether to become overwhelmed by feelings of shame, anger, grief or to function in a way that does no harm to self or others and does not preclude positive interactions with others of the group at some future time.  There’s no sense in self-crippling by allowing oneself to become embittered and twisted.
• Related to the foregoing is making a decision not to say anything unkind to others when experiencing unpleasant feelings.  In Alcoholic Anonymous the cliché This Too Shall Pass is used to remind the recovering alcohlic that the irritant of the moment or the difficult circumstance inhabited will change in time and with patience may be got through without resorting to use of drink. 
• Complete the mission, accomplish the goal, carry out the task – if there’s no harm in it.  For instance, last Wednesday, although I felt like, “What the hell am I doing here?” the condition was one that could be got through by simply participating in the activity in which I’d come to participate and then leaving when it was over, as opposed to hitting the “Screw This” button and bugging out early.  I mean, really, unpleasant feelings are simply feelings and part of the human task is learning to master one’s feelings.
• Think about the feelings – dissect them – their utility, what causes them, what they signify.  By intellectualizing one’s feelings, one can become attenuated from them and this can be a useful to prevent acting impulsively according to their dictates.  I don’t usually enjoy experiencing emotion, but it sometimes does serve to inform me that there is some problem in my circumstance that requires my attention.  Sometimes I experience pleasant emotions, such as those I experienced while I was sitting on the couch with my family after I got home last Wednesday, or those I experience when applying my mind to and discussing scripture and theology.
• Don’t look down on those who are different – in their own ways, they may be well beyond the mean in ways you are not.  Take other people seriously and respect their mastery of or competence in what matters to them.  Ask intelligent questions and learn from people who are different.  Wish them well and try to take pleasure in their successes.
• Recognize that most people experience in some instances something like the unpleasantness you’re experiencing.  Like you, they may be wondering, “What the hell am I doing here?”
• If circumstances warrant aborting the planned activity, feel free to leave.  Try to do it without making some kind of unkind, conclusive statement that may serve as a barrier to you in some unforeseen way, later on.  Leave quietly and draw as little attention to yourself as possible.  Unwanted attention is worse than that unpleasant aloneness you’re leaving behind when you leave the situation.
• Remember what Christ said about casting pearls before swine – you don’t have to and should not share your insights, perceptions, values, thoughts, and self with those who are incapable of understanding or who are malicious twits who should simply be completely avoided.
• Invest your time, effort, thought, love in people who matter to you.  Just one friend, even if he or she does not completely understand you, may provide an oasis of peace in what often seems a hostile universe.  Love your family, cultivate friends if there’re people with whom communication and understanding is possible.
• The apostle, Paul, enjoined his readers somewhere the letter he wrote to the church at Rome, “So far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men.”  That’s good advice.
• Prioritize, although sometimes this takes trial and error (as I learned last Wednesday night), and participate in or expend effort in or for what matters to you to the degree that it makes sense to you.
• Never stop learning

Annual Go For A Ride By Yourself Day

Last Wednesday, April 1, 2015, was the Fifth (?) Annual Go for a Ride By Yourself Day and that is what I had planned to do.  Maybe a short 10 or 15 mile ride to get a breath of fresh air conducive to clear thinking.  But Wednesday was a busy day and during my two or three free hours in the early afternoon, I found they were not so free and got some stuff done, instead.  By late afternoon, though, my son and I were going to take a quick ride after doing some chores and messing around outside.

Then, my wife got home from her job and the three of us set out for a family bike ride.  We rode less than five minutes before our boy crashed after hitting a gravel patch.  His cycling gloves were in his trouser pockets so, in addition to scraping his knee painfully, the pavement tore a flap loose on the palm of one hand.  We all walked back to the house, my wife pushing her bike, I pushing mine.  I walked back for our son’s bike after unlocking the house.

Not long after that, it was about to be time for Wednesday meeting, and I drove over to the where our congregation gets together for midweek coffee, dessert, discussion.  When I got back home , though, I greeted my family and then took the Supernova for nighttime solo ride around the neighborhood.  Afterward, I turned in and slept.

Magellan Cyclo 505–First Report

Why the Expense?

For all of the reasons I outlined in a previous post, I’ve tried to find a GPS cycling computer with maps that will serve to keep track of my rides and help me keep from getting lost when riding country roads as well as when riding a geographically convenient maze of offroad trails, gravel roads, and overgrown tracks.  To recap, as opposed to the Iphone, such a unit requires no purchase of a data-plan subscription; It’s a one-time purchase.  I first tried a Magellan Explorist 710 with built-in camera, topo maps, city maps, etc.  The used unit I purchased was unhandy for use as a cycling computer and also had a weird power-off fault when connected to a Mac or PC.  I wound up sending it back for refund.

Features, Features – Some I Like, Some I Don’t Care About

After a while, during which time I haphazardly read up on Garmin and Magellan cycling specific GPS units, I decided the Garmin units were stupid-expensive.  I decided I would get a Magellan Cyclo 315 unit when I could get a good deal on one and was waiting until I felt I could reasonably justify the expense before buying.  Bike Tires Direct, however, offered a deal on the more expensive Cyclo 505 that beat even the cheapest price I could at the time find on the Cyclo 315.  As to features, those I liked that the Explorist 730 and both Cyclo models have in common were pre-loaded maps, the ability to add other maps, and IPX7 water-resistance.  A feature the 505 has that I wasn’t sure about is WiFi connectivity.

Some of the features the Cyclo 505 has that I could not possibly care less about are Bluetooth smartphone connectivity and the means therewith to control the telephones musical play list; Shimano Di2 shift information or compatibility, power meter connectivity, heart-rate sensor connectivity, or speed/cadence connectivity.  The unit’s basic GPS speedometer capability is fine with me.  So, the unit I got was the basic 505 without all the extra sensors and whatnots I didn’t want to be bothered with.  Remember, the only reason I bought the 505 is because it was cheaper than the 315.

A Day Late!

BTD shipped the unit UPS-ground, and it arrived a day later than originally forecast.  The UPS website reported arrival time had to be recalculated.  I think some doofus misplaced my order in a Kentucky or Ohio redistribution point.  Here’s what was in the box:

The manual says to charge the unit before starting it up, but I monkeyed around with it, anyway.  It fired right up after a few seconds – Magellan splash screen, then black screen for two seconds, then another status screen that shows what appears to be a wheel with holes in it spinning to indicate the device is loading the OS, then the main screen with options.  The options are all pretty self-explanatory.  I entered the home address, also set up a couple of profiles.  If you haven’t got all those sensors that are compatible with the unit, turn off the functions in profile-edit or you’ll get a blinking rebus at the top of the screen in line with display of time and other indicators.  I connected the unit wirelessly to my home network without trouble.

Profiles are categorized by type of riding or type of bicycle – City Bike, Mountain Bike, Racing Bike.  Because I don’t race, I’ve set up both my Miyata 610 and my Jamis Supernova under the City Bike Category and, obviously, my Bridgestone MB-4 is a Mountain Bike.  The profiles allow for manual input of wheel diameter, or the GPS profile setup subroutine uses (probably) mathematics and code to “automatically” obtain wheel diameter information.  Either that, or the “Automatic” option simply discards the wheel diameter variable.  Who knows, eh?  Profile setup also requires entry of sex, DOB, weight, and weight of bicycle.

Should be Both/And, not Either/Or

This is pretty unlike the Abvio Cyclemeter program I ran on my Iphone (which, for the most part, I liked better than the program running on the Magellan GPS unit).  Cyclemeter allows you to set up routes and to enter bicycle data.  Whether type of riding, however, like road bike, city bike, or mountain bike, is part of the route calculations and seems to have more to do with reckoning calories burned and whether sensed movement counts (because sometimes, on a mountain bike, you might have to ride very slowly, for example) than to do with the bicycle, itself.  Magellan would probably score bonus points if they worked with Abvio to produce a Cyclo operating system using the Magellan maps and GPS unit rather than online maps, as with the Iphone application.

This should be an obvious development strategy – like Reeses marketing a peanut butter and chocolate candy – “You got your peanut butter on my chocolate!  No, you got your chocolate on my peanut butter!”  I’d be willing to let them experiment on my GPS unit.  What you’d have, then, would be a GPS unit functional for paddling, running, cycling, automobile, and routing that would allow one to better track performance per route or daily commute time, etc.

Handlebar Mounts

When I rode with my Iphone using Cyclemeter, I always kept the phone in a pocket or seat bag to keep it out of the weather, and because the battery saving screen mode I used was such that I couldn’t see the display the couple of times I mounted the phone on handlebars.  I figured out the primary bar-mount (not the version held on with zip-ties) on the Jamis (my el-cheapo, Craigslist cyclocross bike).  For my first few rides, I mounted the Cyclo 505 over the stem, but for longer rides have mounted it out front, on the left side of the bar, for better visibility when riding.  The close-up of the unit with dimmed screen is a rotated crop from the picture of the Supernova laid over on its non-drive-side in the driveway.  Dimmed and from a distance, the dashboard’s touchscreen buttons are visible.

Magellan includes one zip-tie handlebar mount that offers two against-the-bar soft foam shim options.  When I first tried mounting it on the Bridgestone, I put the one of the zipties through the wrong hole on the upper, hard-plastic, mounting googin.  So, I wound up having to use white, instead of the Magellan provided black, zip ties to secure the mount.  Magellan only provides one of these zip-tie mounts in the box with the Cyclo unit.  If you’re like me and have so many bikes your wife complains about them, you’ll need to get another.  They’re blessedly expensive – about $17, and can be ordered from Amazon.  I bought one for mounting the unit on the Miyata 610.  The only bike I’ve got with bars thick enough for the “outfront” mount is the Jamis.  Miyata and Bridgestone, 34 and 26 years old, respectively, have bars the tubing of which is of narrower diameter.

When I get around to snapping a few pictures of the Cyclo on the Miyata 610, I’ll replace this sentence with them.

Using the Cyclo 505

The strange circular mount takes some getting used to, but typically twists into place without problem.  I do recommend you not power on the unit until it’s on the bike because the sensitive touch screen will beep or honk (really, a buzz or a “heenk”) at you if your palm presses against it during attachment.

Since getting the Cyclo 505 unit, I’ve taken it on maybe nine rides, incorporating into usual unplanned riding happenstance regimin – quick after work neighborhood rides, riding to another county to pick up my car from the mechanic’s garage, riding on a rainy day with my son using a trailer bike attached to the Bridgestone, a 17-mile trek through rough terrain, broken roads, muddy rutted tracks, gravel, and so forth.  Annoying to me is the multiplicity of confirmation screens – Do you want to record?  Are you sure you want to power off?

Ten rides, as of today.  Last Saturday, I took the unit offroad while riding my Jamis Supernova Dura Ace Craigslist wonder-cyclocross bike through a maze of disused military camp roads that’ve pretty well degraded to vestigially paved tracks, mud and gravel roads, etc.  Regarding the Supernova, I was able to ride that bike anywhere I’ve been able to ride my Bridgestone MB-4.  It’s one stout bike and likely worth what I paid for it, even though I had severe buyer’s remorse early on.

The Cyclo 505 performed well; it was only when I trusted my own somewhat flawed directional sense, knowingly traveling due south but mistaken about where on the reservation that would take me, that I got lost.  I came out of the woods after crashing the bike in a deeper-than-it-looked silty bottomed stream, to a highway I was familiar with but wasn’t expecting to find there.  Using the Cyclo 505, I was able to find my way back to the trail after a couple of highway miles making use of a previously unknown dirt and gravel road.  The out-front mount held the device securely through it all, and the GPS unit withstood bumps, brief immersion, crash, etc.

Does a bike man poop in the woods?  Sometimes, but not that day.  Outdoor urination?  Well, yes, and that afforded me the opportunity to snap a couple of pictures of the Magellan Cyclo 505 on the Jamis.

The following day, last Sunday, however, while on a ride with my son on a rainy afternoon with temperatures in the low fifties, the Cyclo 505’s screen froze when moving between map screen and the navigation function’s main data screen.  According to the manual, the fix for this is to turn the machine off and then back on again.  It took me about four tenths of a mile to try this because it was only later that I read the manual’s “Troubleshooting” section.  I found that the device returned me to the recorded ride having saved all the data it had acquired before the freeze.  Because I missed part of the ride, though, the saved ride drew a straight line between the point where it froze and the point where I restarted the unit.  Dunno why this happened, but it made me want to send the Cyclo back until I read the manual and figured it must be a known flaw with fix.

So far, I don’t think the Magellan Cyclo 505 is worth anything near full-retail and recommend the reader wait until a factory refurb can be purchased at a fraction of a new unit’s price, or that the reader wait until a new unit can be had for >$100 off retail.  I don’t feel ripped off, but the screen-freeze bothers me.

New Handlebars…

A few photos of the my 2007 Jamis Supernova with Origin8 Gary 2 handlebars.  Haven’t had a chance to ride more than about three miles with them, so today – just pictures.  Click on them for full-size images.

A Trip to the Bike Shop

Bridgestone MB-4 and Jamis Supernova racked and ready to go to the bike shop

Today, I’ve got present at traffic court to answer to a judge for the particulars of a citation a local policeman issued to me back in late August.  Proof of registration and financial responsibility may serve to keep me from having to pay a fine; that’s the outcome I’m hoping for in the matter.

Since I’ve had to schedule the time, I also plan to use the day to pick up the Miyata 610 from the bike shop, about 45 miles distant, where I left it last week to get the hubs serviced and whatever is bent near the back axle corrected – derailleur, hanger, I don’t know what.  The wheel’s been a bear to reinstall when I’ve removed it for cleaning, the last couple of times.  Furthermore, when riding on the middle ring, in front, and shifting while pedaling hard up a hill to the small front ring, the chain tends to bang down onto the smallest of the freewheel cogs at the back.  On steeper hills that I know I’m able to climb on the Miyata, I’ve lost headway and had to walk a couple of times.  It’s irritating.

Because my local bike mechanic (this town has no local bike shop) has had to go back to working nine-hour days with only two 15 minute breaks during the workday (that doesn’t sound legal, does it?), he hasn’t had the time, energy, and joie-de-vivre necessary to tackle the problems that arise when a 33 year-old bike gets ridden an hour or two daily on good to crummy pavement.

Yesterday, the bike shop called and told me the Miyata is ready for pickup – they were able to service the hubs, so the races were probably not blown, I think the term is.  Additionally, the caller said the shop was able make necessary adjustments to ensure proper shifting, this at no cost.  Good, yes?

Today, I will take them the Jamis Supernova for complete tune-up and Mavic hubs service (if that works, I won’t get a new wheelset for the bike for awhile), and the Bridgestone MB-4 to see about getting the headtube refaced and another Tange Levin headset installed if the one I installed cannot be salvaged.  I don’t hold out much hope for my installation.  Finally, I think I’ll see if they can install the little replacement dials for the shifters.

MB-4 and Supernova on the repair stand for examination

It’ll be at least a week before I get the bikes back and it’s been rainy the past four five days with not much prospect of drier weather for the next few days.  I will probably ride the Miyata in the wet, although the Jamis is the bike I’d hoped to subject to inclement weather.  Ordered some Tri-Flow last week on the advice of my mechanic, to replace the waxy chain cleaner/lubricant I’ve been using.  Perhaps that will offer better wet-condition protection to the Miyata’s moving parts.

Second Ride: Continental Tour Ride Tires

Today I tested the new Continental Tour Ride tires on about 25 miles of good paved road, as well as on some gravel, grassy, and degraded tarmac roads and lanes.  This was a beautiful for day for a ride – overcast, light rain intermittently falling, wet roads, leaves beginning to accumulate in the streets, temperature in the low to middle 70’s.  My goals were to see whether or to what extent the tires would slow me down on the road, and to see how they, and the Jamis Supernova, held up on rougher paved and formerly paved surfaces.

I got up this morning and washed, then lubed the Jamis; added air to the tires inflating to the maximum pressure of 70 psi in the rear tire and between 65 to 70 psi in the front tire.  Although I added some air, the tires remained well-inflated since their installation Thursday.  Wearing mismatched kit, with a couple of water bottles, an expired Larabar lemon pound cake bar and an expired Clif caffeine Mocha pudding/gel/tube/thing, I set out.

This was probably not a fair test, because those execrable Mavic hubs spin so poorly the bike seems, during the first two or three miles, nearly unride-able.  After that, either I got used to having to pedal harder than I would have to using a wheelset in good order, or the hubs loosened up.  Still, I think they made me tired.  I stopped at picnic table at an elementary school to eat the Larabar, and read on the label it contains 3/4 cup of fruit, and peas.  In one of the neighborhoods, I stopped and talked to a retired physician of my acquaintance for about 45 minutes.  Getting an unexpected chance to visit with people I like is one of the benefits of a mid-morning Saturday ride.

My average speed, when I checked, during the paved portion of my ride, was down from last week’s 15.5 miles per hour riding the same bike with Continental Ultra Sport II tires, to about 14.65 mph.  After mixing in a variety of rough surfaces, by ride’s end, my average speed was a plodding 14.3 mph.  I look forward to riding on better hubs soon – I’ll be taking the Jamis in for a tune-up and hub-service early next week.  Then, I’ll be able to better assess the Continental Tour Ride tires vis-à-vis speed and rolling resistance.

The Tour Rides were sure-footed, to use a reviewer’s cliché, on slick wet pavement, slick fallen leaves on wet pavement.  Both the Jamis Supernova and the Continental Tour Ride tires handled predictably and well on grassy lanes, gravel roads, degraded tarmac, washed out tarmac, pounding uphill and down.  I balked at riding over a patch of gravel the chunks of which were a little larger than golf balls.  I’d been riding along at about 16 mph when I came to that pile of gravel; it was so close to the end of the road at the main highway, that I just turned around and pedaled back to find a different route to return to public thoroughfares.

I didn’t ride into any briar patches or through any slick, red mud today; that was Thursday’s project.  During today’s ride, I took no pictures in the neighborhoods – maybe next time I’ll prop the bike up in front of a vacant Stepford McMansion for your viewing pleasure.  During my ride, the drizzle and light rain became breezy overcast, and a lot of the water on the ground dried up.  On the way back to my starting point, I stopped at a coffee shop for a cup and a cookie.  I spent a while talking with the owners, then sat at a table out front and rested my flabby, middle-aged buttocks a bit before pedaling on.