I busted out the PMS on my commute to work this morning. Riding at my own pace, some more issues came to light.
First, I need to spend some time adjusting the derilleurs. It was not shifting like I like and I really cannot run on the 52 any lower than my top three cogs, or I get chain rub. I'm not sure if I have enough derailleur adjustment to make up for it, or not, but I think the ultimate solution is to move the seat back some. I should get some time to work on that this weekend, as they are calling for rain in the forecast.
The ride, overall, went real well though. I sort of underguesstimated my clothing needs, though and was chillier than I prefer, but I was not freezing. Only my fingertips and the tops of my ears suffered, otherwise, I was good.
I got kind of a start sitting at a stop light in downtown San Bernaghetto. There are usually a few homeless people wandering about and in fact, one morning I lit one guy up with my HID as he was pissing under a tree! Anyway, I usually say "good morning" to those I encounter and usually get an open-mouthed stare at the contraptions I'm riding. Today, however, I pulled up to a stop light and from behind me, out of my sight, I hear "Good morning" in a deep, gravelly voice. Now, this is slightly disconerting, given the locale and the inhabitants... Not being able to see the greeter, I mean. I returned the good morning and searched my rear view mirror for the recipient, keeping one eye on the stop light. It turned green and I was away like you would not believe. I've been wierded out like that, before. Riding out on an open road in the dark and you can see nothing, but all of a sudden can smell cigarette smoke. That means the person is pretty close and can no doubt see you, but you can't see them. Weird. That's another reason I went away from handlebar mounted lights to helmet mounts; whatever you look at, you see. Just ask the guy that was watering the tree! With a handlebar mount, you can feel a bit like you're riding in a tunnel. That's cool, in a way, but there are definitely times when you want to see to the side.
When I arrived at work, I got some comments from people... 'How many bikes do you have?" "Geez, every time I see you, you're riding a different bike." So, I had to explain the whole thing about the kit and how I took it off one frame and put it on another. Geez! Then, my boss (who is a cyclist) was entertaining some inspectors today, one of which is a cyclist. Before the guy left, my boss took him out to show and tell my bike. This guy apparently is a semi-serious rider, but obviously had no clue about recumbents, let alone FWD. I explained a little to him, but the moment I saw the glassy-eyed look on his face, I knew there was no point in expending too much energy. Actually, his female companion seemed more interested. I think she wanted me.. :roll: :lol: :lol:
The ride home was fun. I got lots of comments from young kids, like usual. It seems like the comments are either good, or they laugh hysterically. Not too much in between. I got into a nice spin on 5th street in San Bernaghetto, a fairly decent road with not too many stops. I was moving along pretty good when I spotted a rider way ahead in the distance. I'm human and yeah, I saw that rider as a target. My spin picked up a little and I took another gear. The rider was getting closer and closer when, CRAP! Stop light. The light changed and he was just a blip on my radar, again. I picked up the pace and started catching on. I figured it was an illegal commuter, but as I got closer, I could see it was a commuter on a road bike. Now, I'm not saying I was out to smoke a roadie, but after all the work to catch on, I wasn't going to let this fish go... I called out "on yer left!" as I swooped around the guy and he said, "Uh-oh, there goes a fast one!" Normally, I would have hung back and visited, but I was about 40 minutes behind and racing dark, so I pushed on pretty hard. He did too... I got about 50 yards ahead and from that point on, he kept pace.
I felt really great after the ride and I think the bike did pretty well. I've got about 75 miles on it and know I have more work to do on it. I expected that. Heck, working on these things is almost as much fun as riding them!
Mark