Last Ride of 2013

28^th December, family lunch commitment and, after breakfast, I reckon an hour's ride in the sunshine. Schedule cleared by management, and all kitted up, I pluck Pearson from his hook in the garage. “barring punctures or mechanicals,
see you in under an hour” I say. Under half an hour later, I feel that dispiriting bump of rim and tyre crushing together to announce the exit of air from the inner tube (that achilles heel of all bicycles). A smidgen of atmosphere remaining I roll back home to effect the repair in the comfort of the garage. . . . . .

When changing the inner tube in the rear wheel of a fixed wheel bike, it is best (I find) to place the machine upside down. Like a novice cyclist. The reason for this (there had to be one) is the difficulty of replacing the wheel so that it is in line with the frame – and that the chain has the correct tension. If you have to do this on your own, you soon run out of hands.

The Bottle Cage flopped . . .

Before turning the bike onto its saddle and 'bars you have to remove the bidon and (in my case) the container for spare tubes, tyre levers &c. The bottle cage flopped in half. Next job, pull the mudguard stays from their fixing. The rear mudguard came apart about a foot to the rear of the brake caliper. The morning wasn't improving – but at least opening the brake calipers produced no further surprises.Rear wheel off, check the tyre for an obvious cause of deflation. I find three flints and a 3mm thorn.

Now, I realise that the sharper brains amongst you will want to take issue with my muddled measures ('about a foot' and '3mm'), but I'm not the only one. Newspapers are constantly confusing themselves and their readers with “police are seeking a 6ft (1.80m) white male” and we all mix up tonnes, tons and kilos and that's before you get to hectares, acres and fuel that's £s per litre and miles per gallon. And how come America uses Imperial measures but with slightly differing scales? And yet, and yet – I'm entirely comfortable with this confused state of things weighty, lengthy, voluminous and temperate. In my picture framing, I find metric is perfect (provided one ignores centimetres) – but the height of a person feels best in feet and inches. Kilometres are fun for cycling, because you get through more of them in an hour – but only when the signposts are playing to the same rules. The idea that we should change all our signposts is shocking. So much of our culture is bound up with distances, and our place names would lose their meaning. Or would you prefer 10k Bottom or 16k Bank?

. . . Then  the rear Mudguard came apart

Where was I? I was prising flints from the rear tyre – and then spending longer than expected to remove the thorn. Now, at this point any reasonable person, being in possession of another bike (with the added advantage of being in good working order) would stop wasting time. I wasn't in that state of mind at that moment – but my wife took the initiative and burst on the scene “why don't you get on another bike or you'll run out of time!” she barked. Thank goodness for that intervention. Grab Mercian from its hook, swift check on tyres etc, and away. 13 Miles later, and last ride of 2013 completed. Bright winter sunshine, rich dark shadows - perfection. I have ordered some inner tubes, and a pair of mudguards - plus a rear light to replace the one that my bike 'shed' a week or so ago.

All spruced-up and hanging with friends

It was only the next day that I realised that Peter Stephenson-Wall had joined Justin on the list of crash victims. At the time of finishing this, Peter is back home, but will be off the bike for quite a long time - and Justin is also home, but faced with several weeks of a load-free right leg, (though still able to joke that he left West Suffolk Hospital so soon before Peter that the Wheelers seem to be 'hot bedding' Ward F3). Club Sponsorship of The Wheeler Ward anyone?

SJH