Bygone Bicyclist

If you like bikes, and I certainly do, you will probably enjoy these two videos taken by my good friend Alexander Hongo. I had intended to leave Eugene yesterday, so I packed my panniers and got them on the bike. Turns out, I was sick when I woke up, so I stayed another day. Here is some footage of me riding through Eugene on my Kennedy, fully loaded. One features coasting on an ordinary cycle, the other has me pedaling at 20 miles per hour with ~30 pounds of gear (fully loaded). Enjoy!

Frantically living out a seldom exciting life always seems a quite ironic thing. It’s true though, and I’m maybe grasping that as reality finally. Nothing is as dire as anyone seems to make it out to be, yours truly hardly excluded. Being bored means you have time to realize the beauty in things, and really enjoy them. All that said, I very abruptly found my trip falling to pieces before my eyes. The local savior (for lack of better words) for my cycle fell through, seemingly being unwilling to assist me in any of the small issues I had. We all want a professional’s reassurance, and that’s most of what I was wanting – something I was harshly rejected. Worse so, while traveling to meet said person, I had a catastrophic wheel failure. First one spoke, which was fine, although my new and improved spokes from the amazing Mr. Spillane didn’t fit (perhaps I should pay attention more, right?). I was between 3 and 4 miles from ‘the shop’ so I figured I’d just ride it out. Then subsequently three spokes snapped at the bend, throwing the true completely out of the wheel instantly.

This was all before finding out this fellow was unwilling to assist me (contrary what his communicated to me), so I walked – good thing I left early. After being all but turned away, I headed home. At home, I prepared the hub for the new spokes, while also installing the new spokes. She shaped up to be quite a looker once all silvered spokes were donned. The last two tasks, both of which worried me quite, were truing the wheel and getting new tire on both wheels. Fantastic Mr. Greg Barron from Rideable Replicas agreed he could and would assist me once I got to the Bay Area, and suggested a few trips for getting it rideable. Real friendships aren’t dime a dozen, and thanks to Nathan I had a true wheel to ride around. The night put some de-stress on the wheel, releasing some of the spokes (and now it isn’t 100% true like he had it), but it’s still *very* rideable and will get me to RBR no problem.

Now to riding.

Riding an ordinary leads to nothing ordinary. One often has to wonder why it’s still named an ordinary. By today’s standards, it’s *far* from anything normal. All that said, it is just a cycle, very ordinary and rudimentary. There’s no sophistication to it, and that’s why it’s ordinary. But again, it always leads to something out of the ordinary. Friday I decided I’d ride in the last Critical Mass that I’d be in town for in the coming months. I showed up (apparently) early, and was hanging out at Steele Indian School Park (SISP), when a group of people approached me; two were carrying professional cameras. Gently the older of the two asked with a quite familiar accent, “Friend, could we possibly get you in some pictures, with your bicycle?”. I’m always happy to let people take pictures (something you must be fine with riding one of these “strange” machines), but this was a different request. The two were photographing a local girl for her Quinceañera. Inclusive to the photos, they were doing video, and wanted me to ride by on the cycle as she walked by, etc (I was pleased to be in ‘proper’ riding clothes.). The long steel covered bridges over the water of SISP made, what I envisioned, great footage. After 15 minutes or so of shooting, I bid my farewell (and he promised to send me the video via email – I have my doubts [and should]). Either way, it was interesting, and I was happy to help.

Strange story aside, I did some test rides with the fully loaded bike. Things are a little different than planned, but everything seems to work well. My spokes came in yesterday. I’m hopeful to get the wheels and tyres redone this week, and I will have two weeks to work on the final logistics of this trip.

Actually, at this point it’s mostly less than two months.

My original plan was to leave the Continental US around the first week of May. However, I might have to leave a week or two sooner – time will tell. The most important thing part of when I leave is allowing myself enough time to reach as far north as I wish for by June. If I don’t allow for enough time, I’ll risk potential snowy/cold times as I venture back south.

Hectic is the best word to explain my status. Not a moment of my current life isn’t busy with something. Being the person that I am, and valuing quality over speed, cost and quantity, I’ve spent incredible amounts of time researching gear for this trip. I wanted to purchase one, and have it last, and I think I’ve done a superb job thus far. Because of this, I’m going to start a sort of ‘gear review’ section of this site. When I say I’ve spent ample amounts of time doing this research, I mean countless hours across multiple weeks have gone into deciding each and every item. Of what has arrived, I’m overly pleased with, and I have no doubts about their further pleasure and strength. There’s something to be said for quality. [Thomas] Stevens rode ~13,000 miles on the same ordinary cycle he left home on, and only had mechanical issues *ONCE* on his whole trip around the world (that took nearly three years). The one time he did have that mechanical problem is most likely due to the abuse / lack of care by some foreign officials. With the technology we have today, don’t you think we deserve things that could last us a lifetime. I know I’m sick and tired of material objects with a half life (which happens to be often months, rather than years or decades).

The bulk of my purchasing is done, although I do need to find a few more things to finish up my fashions. Just this week I came to the idea of how to modernize my saddle, allowing a modern saddle be easily installed or removed if necessary. I’ve had to go against my initial plan for baggage and resort to a more modern approach; panniers are on their way (and will be attached at the spine). I still would love to have a ‘large’ MIP bag (Multum in Parvo – much in little), but with time constraints and lack of venues for getting one, I’ll have to wait on that. After the baggage and saddle work, I have to reinvent the wheel with the help of some local Wheelmen, and then I believe I am mechanically sound for the trip. One of my final tasks is to finalize a mapped plan, including rations for the “end-goal” (including the purchase of said rations). The one part of the trip that worries me is that ‘last’ (I quote it because it’s more like the middle, as I have to head back afterward). Food and travel will be tight, but I have no doubts about being able to pull it off.

Today with the help of the brilliant father of mine, I fashioned a new seat post, of sorts, for the ordinary. This allows me to mount a modern day saddle to the wheel (something I slightly worried over considering the possible extent of such a trip). One forgets what happens to leather over 40 years, but is quickly reminded when using a brand new leather saddle – one’s posterior reminds you have such things though. After finishing the mount and getting it dialed in (and riding it a nice 5 mile jaunt), I disassembled the machine. I’ve been worried for some time about the missing paint and wears, and I’m taking it to our plater tomorrow to see if it can get a new jacket of nickel within a 2-3 week window. After that, the pannier brackets and rebuilding the wheels are all that remain.

A while ago I went for a trip. It all started out with playing with my existing panniers, as I often find myself doing. I’ve rigged a single on the spine before and gone for day-trips, but never much more via Pene. After consulting some brilliant engineers (see: Father & Grandfather), I had my Tubus Cargo rack mounted to the penny and felt the need to go for a ride. My envisionment was something along the lines of 30-40 miles per day, casually sleeping in, taking notes of the Alaskan bible and having a grand ol’ time. I carelessly packed my panniers with more than necessary. ‘On whim’ ideas and trips rarely work out the way they are planned (or rather, work out just like that). I carried (or towed) far too much, and it made riding the workout of the month. While I had a great time, none of what I had “planned” actually occurred.

Gorgeous night, although ~2 second exposures are hard to hand-hold

I got lost, a few times. Funny how that works. Navigating in the dark is much more difficult than when the sun is out. You have a massive something shining in your face, telling you the direction. While sure, you can do the same at night, it takes a great deal of focus compared to its daytime counterpart. Many loops around Sun City, North Phoenix and Peoria left me desperate for a place to sleep. The plan hours before was north and west, but closer to Lake Pleasant. Fumbling through googlemaps via my cellular phone, I found a road that apparently had some smaller roads that would continue to take me out West. I assumed these gravel/dirt roads, but that was perfectly fine. A few hours of cycling in the dark also made finding a decent camp spot quite a task. I bedded down for the night, although sleeping was difficult to the traffic noise.

The campspot

The next morning I departed, assuming my west-bound highway would take me to a jutting dirt road to venture into the wild. My friend, the highway, had differing plans though. Now heading southbound, I was in search of water, a camp spot or something to take me further west. Sooner or later I was going to end up very south, and my options at that point would be less romantic.

Spoke broken inside the nipple. Not a lot of fun to pull it out and replace with nothing but a paring knife and needle nose.

Cattle ranches from left to right painted my day. Never did I find a proper hide-out to take notes, read and enjoy myself, but at least the weather was fantastic. The rides were great, although I can now truly grasp why a rack on a penny is less than desirable. Mounting and dismounting is much less fun. It also rides like towing a 50 pound trailer, however, much worse as the center of gravity is much closer than it should be. I had great plans to make my own spine-mounted bags already, but this only further ingrained that desire. Since, I’ve created some new spine-mounted bags and ideas. The few days I’ve spent with a single pannier on the spine were definitely more enjoyable than the couple via rear-rack.