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rebeccmeisterWell, it was an awesome weekend, just as I'd hoped. Hopefully I'll get everything down. Pictures to follow.
Friday night, we hosted![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trifold_flame's birthday party at our house, and it was one of those parties that had just the right number of people, an abundance of awesome food (ps - I just ate four pieces of the vegan lasagna, scrottie, and it's AWESOME. Also, can I have your grandma's sour cream cookie recipe? I think those kept me alive yesterday and today). A good time was had by all, and one of my favorite parts was that the whole thing started out with a gathering of the Scrabble Society. I feel so lucky to have formed such good friendships here.
Anyway. I woke up quite early on Saturday morning, packed up a few things, and hit the road. R, A,scrottie and I all made plans to ride our bikes out to cheer on a group of riders completing the MS-150 ride around Florence, AZ. I had failed to convince anyone else to go along with my plan to ride all the way out to Florence, but R, A, and S thought it sounded nice to ride out 50 miles, cheer on the official riders, and then turn around and go home.
The only hitch in this whole plan, as far as I could see, was that I was riding fully loaded for bike touring, and everybody else was carrying minimal supplies. That meant that my top speed was 18 mph drafting, and 16 mph by myself, not nearly as fast as everyone else was wont to go. So eventually R and A went on ahead, while S hung out to keep me company.
We met up with the MS-150 riders at a rest stop at the top of a big hill, and then I followed the pack on to the next stop, which was both stop 5 and stop 7 for the riders. I hung out there, and over the course of a few hours, I got to see almost all of the gang (members of azfixed.com).
While I sat around, a dust devil came along and attacked my bike, ripping free my copy of Friday's New York Times and the motivational poster I had made, and carrying them skyward across a field. I decided it wasn't worth it to chase everything across the field.
Subsequently, I went and checked out the Casa Grande National Monument, which was a nice opportunity to think about ancient life in the desert (the ruins date from the 1300s), and then met up with everyone in Florence.
Florence was fun: a small, forgotten Western town featuring an abundance of interesting historic buildings and an abandoned Main Street. I would never have gone to Florence to visit it if it weren't for this ride, so I'm glad I had the excuse. The evening was mellow--we mostly hung out in the beer garden and rode around in a four-seater Surrey that somebody happened to bring.
Sunday got more interesting. I got up early, packed up my things, and ate breakfast quickly so I could set out ahead of the actual riders and meet up with them at the first rest stop. The roads were absolutely empty in advance of the "real" riders, and with a few clouds in the sky, the conditions couldn't have been more pleasant.
When I pulled in to the first stop, however, to my dismay, I discovered the source of an odd "whumphing" sensation I had started to experience Saturday evening. My rear tire, which was badly balding, was beginning to suffer from some severe side-wall damage. I had plenty of time to strategize as I waited for the riders to arrive, so I decided to swap my front and rear tires and put a "boot" over the section that was breaking. The "boot" is basically some form of internal reinforcement for the tire, in this case, a dollar bill.
Swap completed, I arranged for vehicular back-up and made plans to stop at a Wal-Mart in Coolidge, 10 miles down the road, to look for a replacement tire.
The tire swap resulted in an immediate improvement in my bike's feel, but I decided it was foolish to get over-confident, so I stuck with my plan to stop. Unfortunately, I discovered that the Wal-Mart of choice carried every single other tire size and shape, but had no 26-inch mountain bike tires in stock. The good news is, the lack of replacements meant I didn't have to patronize Wal-Mart and thus compromise my stance against big-box stores.
So I cautiously traversed onward.
About 15 miles further down the road, in the middle of the Gila River Indian Reservation, I heard the dramatic and unmistakable popping noise of a flat tire. Surprisingly, it was my REAR tube, not the front one. It looked like the tube had suffered mightily at the hands of the failing tire (I had swapped tires but not tubes, for a complex reason*) and had finally given up the ghost.
Fortunately, I have learned to be prepared for such incidents. I pulled out my spare tube, popped it in, and carried on my way. At this point, though, I'd used up any and all options for the event of further catastrophes, so I decided to travel at a slightly easier pace until I got to a bike shop at the edge of town.
But I made it, bought a nice replacement tire at the shop, popped it on, and made it the rest of the way home.
Altogether, I went 75 miles on Saturday, and 60 miles today, making this the longest touring trip I've done so far. I also learned that I'm pretty capable in the event of the unexpected, and that if I go on any longer trips, I'd best either carry more spare stuff, or keep my bike in better overall shape.
*Short explanation: My front wheel has a Schrader valve, my rear wheel has a Presta valve, and that makes their tubes semi-incompatible because Prestas fit in Schrader holes (sort of), but Schraders don't fit in Presta holes.
Friday night, we hosted
trifold_flame's birthday party at our house, and it was one of those parties that had just the right number of people, an abundance of awesome food (ps - I just ate four pieces of the vegan lasagna, scrottie, and it's AWESOME. Also, can I have your grandma's sour cream cookie recipe? I think those kept me alive yesterday and today). A good time was had by all, and one of my favorite parts was that the whole thing started out with a gathering of the Scrabble Society. I feel so lucky to have formed such good friendships here.Anyway. I woke up quite early on Saturday morning, packed up a few things, and hit the road. R, A,
scrottie and I all made plans to ride our bikes out to cheer on a group of riders completing the MS-150 ride around Florence, AZ. I had failed to convince anyone else to go along with my plan to ride all the way out to Florence, but R, A, and S thought it sounded nice to ride out 50 miles, cheer on the official riders, and then turn around and go home.The only hitch in this whole plan, as far as I could see, was that I was riding fully loaded for bike touring, and everybody else was carrying minimal supplies. That meant that my top speed was 18 mph drafting, and 16 mph by myself, not nearly as fast as everyone else was wont to go. So eventually R and A went on ahead, while S hung out to keep me company.
We met up with the MS-150 riders at a rest stop at the top of a big hill, and then I followed the pack on to the next stop, which was both stop 5 and stop 7 for the riders. I hung out there, and over the course of a few hours, I got to see almost all of the gang (members of azfixed.com).
While I sat around, a dust devil came along and attacked my bike, ripping free my copy of Friday's New York Times and the motivational poster I had made, and carrying them skyward across a field. I decided it wasn't worth it to chase everything across the field.
Subsequently, I went and checked out the Casa Grande National Monument, which was a nice opportunity to think about ancient life in the desert (the ruins date from the 1300s), and then met up with everyone in Florence.
Florence was fun: a small, forgotten Western town featuring an abundance of interesting historic buildings and an abandoned Main Street. I would never have gone to Florence to visit it if it weren't for this ride, so I'm glad I had the excuse. The evening was mellow--we mostly hung out in the beer garden and rode around in a four-seater Surrey that somebody happened to bring.
Sunday got more interesting. I got up early, packed up my things, and ate breakfast quickly so I could set out ahead of the actual riders and meet up with them at the first rest stop. The roads were absolutely empty in advance of the "real" riders, and with a few clouds in the sky, the conditions couldn't have been more pleasant.
When I pulled in to the first stop, however, to my dismay, I discovered the source of an odd "whumphing" sensation I had started to experience Saturday evening. My rear tire, which was badly balding, was beginning to suffer from some severe side-wall damage. I had plenty of time to strategize as I waited for the riders to arrive, so I decided to swap my front and rear tires and put a "boot" over the section that was breaking. The "boot" is basically some form of internal reinforcement for the tire, in this case, a dollar bill.
Swap completed, I arranged for vehicular back-up and made plans to stop at a Wal-Mart in Coolidge, 10 miles down the road, to look for a replacement tire.
The tire swap resulted in an immediate improvement in my bike's feel, but I decided it was foolish to get over-confident, so I stuck with my plan to stop. Unfortunately, I discovered that the Wal-Mart of choice carried every single other tire size and shape, but had no 26-inch mountain bike tires in stock. The good news is, the lack of replacements meant I didn't have to patronize Wal-Mart and thus compromise my stance against big-box stores.
So I cautiously traversed onward.
About 15 miles further down the road, in the middle of the Gila River Indian Reservation, I heard the dramatic and unmistakable popping noise of a flat tire. Surprisingly, it was my REAR tube, not the front one. It looked like the tube had suffered mightily at the hands of the failing tire (I had swapped tires but not tubes, for a complex reason*) and had finally given up the ghost.
Fortunately, I have learned to be prepared for such incidents. I pulled out my spare tube, popped it in, and carried on my way. At this point, though, I'd used up any and all options for the event of further catastrophes, so I decided to travel at a slightly easier pace until I got to a bike shop at the edge of town.
But I made it, bought a nice replacement tire at the shop, popped it on, and made it the rest of the way home.
Altogether, I went 75 miles on Saturday, and 60 miles today, making this the longest touring trip I've done so far. I also learned that I'm pretty capable in the event of the unexpected, and that if I go on any longer trips, I'd best either carry more spare stuff, or keep my bike in better overall shape.
*Short explanation: My front wheel has a Schrader valve, my rear wheel has a Presta valve, and that makes their tubes semi-incompatible because Prestas fit in Schrader holes (sort of), but Schraders don't fit in Presta holes.
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no subject
Date: 2009-03-30 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-02 01:09 am (UTC)Used Vanilla for "flavoring". Shorting is Crisco, tragically. I got it for pie crusts because they just don't come out right otherwise and I've been abusing it. Butter tends to turn every cookie recipe into lace cookies... flat, crispy things. Guess I could buy some margarine but that's not entirely satisfactory either. Flour was unbleached, eggs from the farmer's market. The wheat flour experiment (some of them were wheat flour) kind of reminded me of biscuits. Not entirely bad, just a different thing.
Thanks, glad you enjoyed.
Lasagna was good canned tomatoes from Sprout's, simmered for a long time with olive oil, fresh basil, fennel seed, celery seed, and a touch of red pepper with lots of black pepper. I'm kind of a tomato snob. Big, bland, pulpy tomatoes make me sad.
Hard to say what will be going on in a year, but I'm thinking it might be fun to put together Team Fully Loaded and do the MS-150 proper. Either that or load the Starship with cupcakes, stand by the side of the road, and hand them out as if they were cups of Gatoraide. I didn't know about the beer garden (or that anyone was going to crash the camp site) or I might have packed the sleeping bag. Nothing against road cyclists, but cycling is already a small enough community that I think it's good for them to be exposed to the fixed gear riders, touring cyclists, etc. It kind of drives home the idea that there are a lot of ways to relate to and use a bicycle. Major points to the fixed gear guys for getting out, joining the party, and being seen.
Props to you for the logistical as well as physical accomplishment of touring out and back. Glad you made it back okay. I'll rant about flats some other time, but they definitely suck.
-scott
no subject
Date: 2009-04-09 10:45 pm (UTC)Seeing you at the rest stop was such a pick-me-up! I was feeling the length of the ride, but you cheered me up. I love the picture of you with your sign (just before the dust devil stole it).
I had no idea that you had such tire troubles on the way home! We would have happily picked you up had you needed help (and would any time). I'll private message you my phone number for the future.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-10 04:43 pm (UTC)You didn't miss much of downtown Florence, that's for sure! And we'll definitely have to exchange phone numbers. I talked to a couple of the other guys, and Patrick has my phone number anyway, so there were a lot of people looking out for me. Actually, that was one of the nice things about my expedition--although parts of it were by myself, help was always very close at hand if anything came up.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-10 04:44 pm (UTC)