Its time for another trip to the local shop which is a mile and a half away along English country lanes. It has been very hot here, that is over 30 degrees, but today is overcast and slightly cooler.
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I bump down the farm track and onto the road and am soon down in 2nd pushing up the narrow hill. I relax at the top and move through 4th, 6th and into 7th. My eight speed 11-34 cassette is now paired with a 34 tooth front, down from 36. I figured that I more often wanted a lower rather than a higher gear which suits my - twirling along the flats, winding up the hills and coasting down the other side - style of riding. I avoid that small but deep pothole on the bend. Its when I drop into an unseen pothole that I appreciate the front suspension - it rounds off the hard edges with a metallic clonk. But I also think it a good thing to "simplicate and add lightness", specially on bikes, so I would like to try the Quest V3 sometime.
The verges now have thick stands of nettles, flowering hogweed and elegant fronds of Meadow Fescue grass. I turn right at the crossroads, go to top gear and then coast down the shallow slope with my hands folded in my lap. Billyk commented that when you can ride some hands-free it feels like you own the bike for the first time. I think that is well put.
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The next junction is difficult on a Cruzbike as the road curves away from view but today it is quiet enough to hear that there are no approaching cars so over I go. I have changed the stem for a longer one which puts my arms in a straighter line which I find both more comfortable and gives me a little more pedaling power. The new stem also has two clamp bolts around the bars which hold them firm. There were a few times with the old stem, with only a single clamp bolt, that a pull on the bars just brought the grips towards me, which was very offputting! I also moved the mirror to a higher position and get less elbow in the view.
Climbing the hill I notice the sharp smell of hot tarmac, occasional floral wafts and the unusual smell of old-fashioned disinfectant as I pass a house. Down the steep hill to the shop I use the brakes and am pleased to hear no squeal. My last squeal cure was tying a pair of disc-side spokes with a zip tie but it only helped a bit so I tried yet another solution. This time I smeared a bit of Mintex Ceratec grease behind the pads and they have been quiet for six months. Is it finally sorted?
I park the bike outside the shop and go in and buy some tomatoes.
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Back out again I push the bike up the short steep hill and prop the bike against a wall on the dried grass. I take a photo looking along the lane towards the clump of trees known as Win Green which are growing on the remains of a Bronze Age roundbarrow perched high on the hilltop. It is a bit hazy today in the heat.
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Around 3500 years ago, when the barrow was being constructed, somebody may have watched from up there as the first wheeled cart made its way across the countryside below and marveled at its strangeness. Those big heavy compression-spoke wheels were on the earliest Boneshaker bikes too. I wonder what a Quest would feel like with a big 36 inch bike wheel at the back?
I remount and drift down to the crossroads, go over and then enjoy spinning along in top with my hands reached forward and holding onto the brake bodies.
For the sake of completeness I stop and photograph the same view as I did last time I posted this journey when it was titled "Getting the Milk". The bike is almost lost in the ferns.
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I drift down the lane and round a few curves. I get those good flying feelings with the Quest now that it has lost that "hinged in the middle" feeling that I got for the first year, in fact for good feelings it is now one of the two best machines that I have owned. The other one was a Pedersen, a very upright design with a hammock saddle. Its high position made it easy to balance and I used to feel like a vicar admiring God's good earth as I pedaled through the countryside looking over the hedge tops. Unfortunately the Pedersen got kicked by a horse and is now hung up decoratively in the barn, with a broken frame. I wasn't on it at the time.
I bump back up the farm track and prop the bike against the barn for a last photo. Which reminds me that I should perhaps trim that seat support tube and make it look a little less male.
.JPG)
I bump down the farm track and onto the road and am soon down in 2nd pushing up the narrow hill. I relax at the top and move through 4th, 6th and into 7th. My eight speed 11-34 cassette is now paired with a 34 tooth front, down from 36. I figured that I more often wanted a lower rather than a higher gear which suits my - twirling along the flats, winding up the hills and coasting down the other side - style of riding. I avoid that small but deep pothole on the bend. Its when I drop into an unseen pothole that I appreciate the front suspension - it rounds off the hard edges with a metallic clonk. But I also think it a good thing to "simplicate and add lightness", specially on bikes, so I would like to try the Quest V3 sometime.
The verges now have thick stands of nettles, flowering hogweed and elegant fronds of Meadow Fescue grass. I turn right at the crossroads, go to top gear and then coast down the shallow slope with my hands folded in my lap. Billyk commented that when you can ride some hands-free it feels like you own the bike for the first time. I think that is well put.
The next junction is difficult on a Cruzbike as the road curves away from view but today it is quiet enough to hear that there are no approaching cars so over I go. I have changed the stem for a longer one which puts my arms in a straighter line which I find both more comfortable and gives me a little more pedaling power. The new stem also has two clamp bolts around the bars which hold them firm. There were a few times with the old stem, with only a single clamp bolt, that a pull on the bars just brought the grips towards me, which was very offputting! I also moved the mirror to a higher position and get less elbow in the view.
Climbing the hill I notice the sharp smell of hot tarmac, occasional floral wafts and the unusual smell of old-fashioned disinfectant as I pass a house. Down the steep hill to the shop I use the brakes and am pleased to hear no squeal. My last squeal cure was tying a pair of disc-side spokes with a zip tie but it only helped a bit so I tried yet another solution. This time I smeared a bit of Mintex Ceratec grease behind the pads and they have been quiet for six months. Is it finally sorted?
I park the bike outside the shop and go in and buy some tomatoes.
Back out again I push the bike up the short steep hill and prop the bike against a wall on the dried grass. I take a photo looking along the lane towards the clump of trees known as Win Green which are growing on the remains of a Bronze Age roundbarrow perched high on the hilltop. It is a bit hazy today in the heat.
Around 3500 years ago, when the barrow was being constructed, somebody may have watched from up there as the first wheeled cart made its way across the countryside below and marveled at its strangeness. Those big heavy compression-spoke wheels were on the earliest Boneshaker bikes too. I wonder what a Quest would feel like with a big 36 inch bike wheel at the back?
I remount and drift down to the crossroads, go over and then enjoy spinning along in top with my hands reached forward and holding onto the brake bodies.
For the sake of completeness I stop and photograph the same view as I did last time I posted this journey when it was titled "Getting the Milk". The bike is almost lost in the ferns.
I drift down the lane and round a few curves. I get those good flying feelings with the Quest now that it has lost that "hinged in the middle" feeling that I got for the first year, in fact for good feelings it is now one of the two best machines that I have owned. The other one was a Pedersen, a very upright design with a hammock saddle. Its high position made it easy to balance and I used to feel like a vicar admiring God's good earth as I pedaled through the countryside looking over the hedge tops. Unfortunately the Pedersen got kicked by a horse and is now hung up decoratively in the barn, with a broken frame. I wasn't on it at the time.
I bump back up the farm track and prop the bike against the barn for a last photo. Which reminds me that I should perhaps trim that seat support tube and make it look a little less male.
epped on your toes.
