Say Hi

Old couple with dog

two friendly girls on bikes

love when they say hi

East Wind - Day 3

Bitter cold headwind

black pyramid of Mount Hood

rides a corral sky

Curbside Recycling

Riding home Monday evening I spotted this old Schwinn mountain bike parked on someone’s parking strip. A beater to be sure, but a perfectly functional beater, and in Portland, even beaters parked unlocked and unattended are thief magnets, so I rode by, glancing over my shoulder as I wondered what was up. It was then I realized that some other folks on the street had already put out their garbage and recycling. So I went back, leaned my bike on a tree, and knocked. The guy who opened the door, noticing my helmet and garb I suppose, said simply “Please, God, take it.” That was all the invitation I needed so I thanked him and walked the final blocks home with 2 bikes – one with very flat tires. One concerned driver stopped to gruffly ask “Is that your bike?” I’m not sure which one he figured didn’t match me, but I briefly explained what was up. It was good to know at least one person would question the shadiness of someone wheeling 2 bikes down the sidewalk.

The bike is a 1986 Schwinn High Sierra. I recognized it immediately as I was riding by – the Charlie Cunningham designed roller-cam brakes are pretty distinctive – because I just picked up a nearly identical bike two months ago Actually, the first one isn’t technically ‘mine” as I only brokered the deal and it’s owned by the new bike club – “Wheelz” – that Mark A and I started at our school. That bike costs $40 and while rideable now, will supply hours of wrenching experience for our budding adolescent bike mechanics.

Both bikes are the same “bronze” color with chocolate brown rear triangle, mostly Suntour friction drivetrains, and plenty of braze-ons for racks and fenders. The specs can be found here. The one I just picked up is way too tall for me – the seat tube is 23.5” C-T, but I don’t really care; I just want to get it back out on the road or trail. Speaking of trails, in my poking around for info on this bike, I came across this interesting tidbit. Seems Ned Overend won the Pacific Suntour MTB series in 1984 riding for Schwinn on a stock High Sierra (though by 86 he had a custom Paramount MTB for racing.) So while the bike may fit the “clunker” status by today’s dual suspension-crabon fibre-disc brake-200mm travel standards, it carries a fine pedigree.

Once I got the bike home and looked it over, I discovered some pretty interesting modifications, highlighted in the pictures below. Obviously, the person who owned this bike was tall and rode it in the dark. The 12V headlight is huge – I think it’s a motorcycle headlight – and the customized heavy steel plate mount is tapped directly into the handlebar, not clamped on. Initially, I was stumped by the customized padded platform bolted to the water bottle bosses. A step to help mount the bike? Combined with the mismatched pedals – plain cheapo newish platform on drive side, original Suntour beartrap with custom heavy-duty adjustable rubber toe strap lag bolted to custom made steel plate on left – I thought the bike had been modified by some giant machinist who for some reason could only pedal with his left leg. Neighbor Paul solved the mystery, pointing out that the plug on the end of the wires from the headlight would just reach a motorcycle battery installed on the platform above the bottom bracket. And then there’s the grease fittings. The one below the bottom bracket may be stock – some 80’s MTB’s had them – but I’ve never seen one on a headtube. Who was that guy? There’s also a magnet on the front wheel and one on the left crank, so whoever he was he tracked his mileage and cared about cadence.

I’m a believer in beausage, and this bike’s got it in spades, though of a very workmanlike quality - more like a 50-mission B-17 than a vintage Mercedes. It may be ugly as sin, but someone put a lot of love and sweat into making this bike their vehicle, and they obviously rode the heck out of it.

Another thing I noticed is the small chainring seems to have the most worn teeth. If the rings are all original, it’s no doubt from hauling that battery around. And I’ll bet dollars to donuts he pulled a trailer too.

It still gets to me that these early mountain bikes, or ATB’s, or utility bikes, or whatever you want to call them, get so little respect. This bike was on the trash heap and headed for a meltdown, though a few hours work on my part should have it ready for another 25 years of faithful service with only basic maintenance. Meanwhile, a Schwinn Varsity from the same year, with a gaspipe frame, considerably lower grade components, steel suicide wheels (at least in Portland; you’re just asking for it if you take those out in the rain) and a steel cottered crank, will fetch $100-$250 from the fixter crowd. And while a Varsity is fine, for what it is, I’ll take the High Sierra any day.

Final point: 1986 and the bracketing years were a helluva time for bikes, if my basement is any indication. Between T’s Bridgestone T-700, my Trek 400, Trek 560, Nishiki Riviera GT, The Miyata Terra Runner, and Big C’s Japanese Bianchi, we’re rocking the mid-80’s bike boom.

.

"Suntour XC-Power" "Cunningham Design"

Is that a step? The customized battery platform...

...for powering this bad boy.

Wouldn't it be easier to just buy a toeclip?

Grease fitting on back of headtube. Dreading what I'll find when I open it up, but I'll bet the stem isn't stuck.

Speaking of stem. Mismatched shifters - right is 6-speed Shimano indexed. Check out light switch on the left and that forged cable guide.

False Spring

This week brought a pretty crazy swing in our weather. Once again, hopes were dashed for Portland snow, and a forecast that initially predicted a possible 6 inches Tuesday night fizzzled to "possible flurries and freezing rain," Which was pretty much all we got. Tuesday evening I rode home from work in full winter gear, a strong tailwind howling out of the gorge, and the first dry snowflakes dancing in clouds of ground snow ahead of me on the Springwater. Tuesday night brought light freezing rain and a 2-hour late school start. My ride in was still a little dicey; the car lane was clear, but the bike lane a wet sheet of ice in most spots, and since I was coming in later, there was more traffic. By the time I left for home, the thermometer was up to 50, and it hasn't dipped below since then. We had plans to visit friends in Sisters for some XC skiing this 3-day weekend, but that's not gonna happen.

Dry snow on Tuesday

swirling around my wheels

Thursday I dodge frogs

Three frogs cross my path

Can they think that spring has come

in January?

May Can End Now

Trees drip, grass bends low

Slugs and bunnies love the rain

But I've had enough.

You've Got Mail

First this showed up:

Then I got these

Courtesy of Chrome's "Turds to Gold" promotion.

Somehow, The idea of wearing these shoes when I ride my fixie to the Old Country Buffet for the senior discount on the all-you-can-eat waffle buffet is pretty appealing

Three-Capes 300

Frost on the summit

Lingering at Grateful Bread

in fine company

After feeling pretty good about how the Birkie went for me last month, I started thinking an even longer distance was possible and maybe even could be kinda fun, so I watched the weather and decided to toss my cycling cap into the ring for the Oregon Randonneurs Three-capes 300K. I've been wanting to ride to the beach for years, and since you gotta get back somehow, I figured why not ride the round trip. It's just a bike ride, right? A long bike ride.

But when the original date (April 3) approached, I was getting cold feet. Turns out they could have been even colder. School & U.P. homework had me buried, short on sleep, and missing family time, so when the forecast was cold, wet, windy, with probable snow on the coast pass, I admit I was plain scared to tackle this. Fortunately, the ride was postponed. Turns out that was a good decision.

I still didn't get enough sleep the week before, but left myself a cushion Friday and turned in just after 9 for the 4 A.M alarm. And I couldn't sleep. Despite the glass of wine, the homeopathic tranquilizers, the sleep deficit, by 12:30 I was getting frantic. Then the alarm went off and I went on pre-ride autopilot.

There was a group of 40+ready to roll from the Grand Lodge at 6 and I headed out with the pack into the frosty predawn, all blinky lights and Locomotive Breath.

I thought it was kind of cool how our pack of around 15 hung together pretty much to Timber Road - it might have been the cold and crosswind we were catching from the east that had us huddled together. Once we started climbing to the first control, of course, things spread out. I was a little worried about overriding the turnaround for the first control, but as there was a staffed table with coffee & donuts, it was pretty obvious. I arrived in a group of 8 and since I had tanked up on tea and juice, had to take a little walk into the trees after getting my card signed. When I returned to my bike, I was alone, and had to chase hard if I didn't want to ride alone. Fortunately I caught on to the back half of the group before we reached Hwy. 8, and we swept up some others as we started heading up over the coast range.

I had started the day determined not to allow myself to get caught up in any macho hammerfest - "I'm just gonna ride my ride" I told myself. But on the other hand, when the company is pleasant and riders are willing to work together taking turns at the front, it can be easy to push it beyond comfort for a spell and tell yourself you can drop out anytime. Plus, with a tailwind pushing us up toward the pass, it was fun watching the miles roll by, and easy to shut out the voice telling me I was gonna pay for this later. We were able to maintain a fairly intact group of around 10 riders clear up to the coast summit where I snapped a quick rolling picture and we launched into a speedy decent through the sweeping curves down to the Wilson River.

There was a little frost on the shoulder, but It wasn't a worry. Many many years ago - before I switched my major to English, I was an electronics engineering major and took a physics class. The instructor was an avid cyclist and mountaineer, and frequently included his avocations in his lectures. I remember him telling us that - counter-intuitively - skinny tires get better traction on ice - it's something about the sublimation coeficient of the hydrogen molecules... or maybe I saw it in a Wallace and Gromit cartoon. Anyway, I told myself it's not the ice you slip on, it's the thin layer of water you create with your tire on the ice. Therefore, if you go fast enough, you can't slide, right? Anyway, we stayed upright and about 7 of us were still together when we got to Tillamook. A longish stop at Safeway included my first coffee of the day, and I decided I needed to slow it down if I was going to survive the other 2/3 of the ride. Apparently that's what my comrades were thinking too because we rolled out along the bay and up to Cape Meares at a more leisurely and sustainable pace. The climbs up Cape Meares and Cape Lookout were stiff, but not too long, and the scenery, of course, spectacular.

We still had a group of 7 riders when we reached Pacific City and Grateful Bread, where More Coffee, a big scone and some lounging in the sun got me ready for the next leg which turned inland - and into the wind. It was never outrageous, but it was to be a presence for the next few hours. The route up the Little Nestucca river and over Sourgrass summit to Grande Ronde is really a splendid ride. The grade was never steep, the traffic so light we took the lane nearly the whole time, and the mix of river canyon and farms just delightful, especially by bike.

Our group thinned a bit after Grande Ronde, though we picked up JD (?) at the store. He asked us why we were so slow, and Michael Johnson told him we had a plan. Apparently, our plan was to suck JD's wheel for the rest of the ride. He led MJ, John D, and I out of town and through the tricky transition to Yamhill River road (take the exit, apparently), but I think maybe he decided our company wasn't stimulating enough after the last "zip-tie" control so the three of us were left to finish the evening. This was the part I was most worried about ahead of time. On paper the route finding seemed tricky - so much so that I had printed maps of most of it (which I forgot at home, naturally.) I was imagining myself lost in the dark as I tried to navigate the turns through Sheridan, Dayton, Amity and Lafayette. So I was glad for the company and glad it was still light when we hit the home stretch. With about 15 miles to go and our pace dropping, John mentioned the temperature drop I'd been feeling as well. I think the three of us must have had some kind of telepathic powwow to the effect of "stop and put on a layer, or ride harder?" MJ apparently realized that if we pushed the pace a little, our finishing time might qualify us for some special Rando-Ninja designation, so harder won out over layers, and we launched into the final miles at a good clip, pulling back into Forest Grove with a smidge of light still in the sky. Whew.

Thoughts: I was really bummed when my schedule kept me from this ride last year, and determined to make a stab at it this time. All in all I think it went great, and while 2 years ago I would have said no way could I ride that distance in a day, now I know it's possible - and possible to do it enjoyably. My low point was just after 200K when my back and shoulders were aching and my left knee pinging a bit. Surprisingly, that eased off and I felt better physically at the end than I did several hours earlier. I love having the Acorn Boxy Rando bag and the access it gives me to food, camera, etc while riding. I also brought the Minnehaha saddle bag I just got cheap from Restoration Hardware, mainly because since I'm riding 27" tires, I wanted to bring a rolled-up spare since I doubt I could depend on anyone else bailing me out if I suffered a slice. Probably overkill, though. For food, I brought the large fig bars, a bag of raw nut/dried fruit trail mix, a couple clif bars, a small bag of dark chocolate and black licorice, and a hefty PBJ on homemade sourdough. Along the way I bought 2 coffees, a scone, and 2 bottles of juice. I never felt low on fuel, and returned with about half the fig bars and trailmix, and never touched the Clif bars. I don't want to cut myself short, but there's room to trim.

I'm also happy with how the bike did. Part of me is kind of smug that I did this in a 25+ year old production bike that cost me barely more than $100. Not that I don't see changes I'd make in a custom rig. But I realize that while a lighter and better fitting rig would be nice, it's the trip, not the bike, that makes the experience worth doing. 400K now seems within the realm of possibility, if I can figure out a cheap bright headlight option. And hanging out after the ride, grabbing a beer and some fries, and chatting about the day as others wheeled in was a much better way to end the ride than packing up and rushing home.