Paper Bag, Please!

I love to pedal to get exercise or to be near the lake. I might decide on a whim to peruse the re-use store, a church sale, or ride to the north end of town. When I set off I don't always know where I'll end up. So, I'm often caught unprepared to haul my purchases in the space of one bag.

Scenarios go like this: I fill the pannier with produce, including 6 tomatoes, which seemed plenty in a makeshift pannier (but the flowery print is nice, no?). Then I buy packaged goods at another source. This is where the mighty bungee cord saves the day. I request a paper bag at the check-out counter—plastic will not do—because its structure allows most anything to stay intact on a rack. In this instance, I carried tortilla chips and other goodies and fastened all, gently, but securely. All items safely made the 2 mile trip home.

How do you capture more cargo space?

Let's Ride

I rested my bike against the garage at my workplace. I had to laugh.
The snow shovel was still handy for fickle April weather.

It was a frosty morning, but the sun promised a splendid day. I shuffled our last boy outdoors (on the cusp of going to school by himself) to catch up with his older brother for a bus ride rather than my usual escort. Sometimes I'm lucky like that. A fightless morning. They knew how much I looked forward to my first ride to work this year and obliged me this simple time saver.

Then I was off. Chemical warmers kept my feet warm. Other commuters went by. I waved. Smiling. I was slow, of course, but enjoying the physical exertion. I was tired at mile 5 and I had 6 more to go. A headwind was building. My butt hurt. No getting around that. I felt every ache and pain, making a mental note to tip the seat downward a bit. This early in the season it's all about the body, though I chuckled at my first gutter gazing: an Almond Joy wrapper and a biker's water bottle. If I think of it next week, maybe I'll rescue that bottle and prop it in a conspicuous place.

Ah, but what a tailwind coming home! Let's ride.

What Happened to Reflectors?

When my son accidentally busted the wheel reflector on my Ross I realized that the bike had no more reflectors. Period. I haven't seen many reflectors—if any—on new bicycles either. And the more I thought about it I realized something was amiss.

It seems we advocate wearing high visibility clothing, using lights, and defensive cycling. But barring all those, shouldn't all bicycles come equipped with—at the very least—wheel reflectors?

Jeesh, not one reflector on any of my dream bikes. Who knew? (Not me, of course.)

Pedal reflectors. Photo credit: Tamia Nelson

I recall the days when bicycles were covered in reflectors. The more the merrier. A white reflector on the stem, a red one attached to the seat post, one on each wheel, plus two on each pedal rounded out the collection, rendering a bike lit like a Christmas tree when a car's headlights shined. And sure, reflectors are only effective under certain lighting conditions, but for simple, low cost safety that doesn't need a battery, I believe reflective material goes a long ways towards making bikes safer for everyone.

While I ride the Ross around town, I better make sure I'm not out after dark, because I'm afraid I'll be invisible, even if I ride the sidewalk. Gotta put a blinkie in my pocket...

Our rental bikes in France. Michele's bike had two reflectors on each wheel. Look at that shine!

It seems we've lost a built-in safety measure in favor of simplicity. Sure, bikes look less cluttered, more streamlined—sleek even—which may appeal to a broader market. Or possibly those new to cycling. Why would a newbie want to ride a bike full of orange and red beacons that remind them of childhood rides? And, who doesn't like the simple single-speed? I betcha you won't find any reflectors on those babies.

Once you lose or break a reflector, they rarely get replaced. Out of sight; out of mind. I'm guilty of that. (Is that why orange vests became popular?) But still, I lament the fact that plastic reflectors have gone the way of the dinosaur.

The Trek is Ready to Ride

Until I figure out the Miyata's chain problem, I plan to start off riding the Trek to work. It's ills are easily tackled—routine maintenance, really—and I got to it over the Easter weekend.

Our new Park chain remover tool. The rubberized mega handle and precision tooling
 works magic on a chain.

Deciding to swap a few parts seems daunting, but the impetus to start bike commuting motivates me like nothing else. First item: replace a badly frayed shifting cable. Loosen the allen bolt on the derailleur and remove the cable all the way out through the thumb shifter. There was nothing wrong with the current housing. Presto! Replace with new one, re-tighten, and the shifting is better than before. And though I put it off, I'm learning to not be so frightened of cabling. Now, if I have to adjust the freewheel travel or reset the index shifting, well, that might be a different story.

I have Hugh to thank for my new chain remover tool. The Hub and I've been using a Park tool for years, which worked adequately, even though my hands hurt when applying torque with the minuscule t-bar handle, but with the "Park" name I figured it was the best tool on the market. However, according to Hugh there are two Park chain remover tools. The larger version is precision and hefty and I literally pushed the pin through the links without a fret or feeling like a woman weenie! For home mechanics I can't imagine using anything else. Heavy, well-made tools are just that—heavy, with top-notch construction—and best kept at home. The old tool still has value and will remain an integral part of our touring toolkit.

One side of the tool is a half moon with teeth.

So, after I removed the stretched chain, there's no better time to go ahead and clean the freewheel, derailleur and pulleys. It's amazing the gunk you can extract from between the cogs, especially with a toothbrush and Park's two-side plastic tool made specifically for this purpose. I do this chore over newspaper in the basement or outside where I can sweep the tailings into the grass. No time like the present to get the drive-train as clean as possible before placing a new chain.

The other side presents a stiff-bristled brush.

I will never again buy a chain without masterlinks (there will be an upcoming post on the Miyata). I resize the new chain to the exact length as the previous one, allowing for the extra length of two masterlinks They come as separate pieces, but when connected form an additional link. These are critical so don't lose them as I did and ended up crawling around on the floor  searching for a time. At eye level, finally, I located one piece hidden beneath the work stand. First, wind the chain around the cogs and derailleur, then place each side of the masterlink in position. Set the pins through the oval-shaped holes, however, don't tighten completely. It's important to rotate the pedals and try out the new configuration, forward and backward before attempting a ride. I noticed some rattling. I studied the chain's path eventually discovering my mistake. I had wrapped the chain correctly around each pulley but forgot about the little guide. It's a small metal protrusion that keeps the chain from skipping off the pulley wheel. I was unable to force the chain into position, but with my hands I unhooked the master link and rethreaded the chain. Then I took the bike out for a spin. Gears worked quite well. The chain skipped a bit on each rotation, however I knew that riding would properly seat the masterlink.

Pristine weather. A lovely ride on the waterfront path. It feels like spring.

The next day was gorgeous. I itched to go for a ride. With one more task to do, I moved the bike outdoors. I replaced the rear brake pads. It's a simple solution for more efficient stopping power, yet I always struggle with cantilever brake adjustments. Loosen one side, tighten the other. When the fiddling moves the pads closer, I turn the screw above the upside down V configuration to fine tune it until I'm happy. My motto regarding replacing pads: wait until I'm willing to spend time to do it right, and improve the braking power. It's a crucial bike component that should work at optimal efficiency. And with brakes and rims working in conjunction, I also wipe the rims clean.

Let it be said. I'm not above letting my local bike shop handle the hard stuff—in fact if I'm unsure I'll happily let them assess or fix my work, but I do like to try when I have the time or inclination to learn. When I'm successful there's an immense sense of accomplishment and I feel like I'm one step closer to understanding the bicycle.

Now, she's ready to roll.

It was a wonderful 15 mile ride. The lake was beautiful too. People lined up for creemees at a stand that seems to open on a whim, capturing good weather and lots of walkers and riders. I also noticed the new Cycle the City signage. It's a big improvement, showing split routing through the Intervale. Hopefully, it'll steer more riders on this little used but pleasantly paved alternative to the dirt section.

Ah, a break at an overlook. The beach is wide here and people were walking along the shore.

All smiles. the Trek is ready to roll to work.

The bike is fit for riding to work though I'm disappointed in the forecast. It's supposed to turn colder with snow flurries.

Italy - Montagnana and Ferrara

Follow New Posts in the Around The World series on Mondays.
Click here for the Introduction.

Actual cycling route is highlighted. This map shows Verona east to Venice then southward to Ferrara. We penned triangles for open campgrounds and hostels along with circling town names.
This helped determine what to aim for and whether we could make it in a day's ride.

Riding around inside Montagnana's walls.

Drawings and notes from my journal.

36 miles - Sunday, October 9

Sunshine! It’s much warmer than last night’s chilly stroll through Montagnana. We pack up and circle the interior of the walls. There is a collection of buildings, similar to row houses, except the rear, in actuality, is fused with the exterior wall.

Andy pedals through the narrows streets for scale.

After a cup of cappuccino in the piazza we set off southward, easily cycling the miles to Ferrara. Riding on a Sunday is quiet, especially through the little villages. Less traffic leaves our minds time to wander. Andy and I scheme of returning someday with friends to camp in hostels, ride lightweight bikes, drink good wine, and eats lots of pasta.

On the outskirts of Ferrara we set up in a year-round municipal campground. It's vacant and quiet, yet sports a newly mown lawn, even clean bathrooms. It seems too good to be true. We wash, set up the tent, and still no one has come to collect money. Without this place connecting the long miles to Bologna, we would've been taking a train. We are thankful for the campground guide.

Estense Castle at night, central Ferrara. Photo credit: Milagros-Palette

It's late afternoon and we walk into Ferrara's piazza. It's a much larger city than Montagana, yet there are bicycles everywhere with few cars. We poke around, buying a few groceries and stay until dusk. The clock tower in the central square is mesmerizing, attached to a castle-like structure. Statues are lit up. In fact all the buildings take on an otherworldly glow. It's a sleepy place and we feel safe as we make our way outside the walls for the walk back to the campground.