tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69535082178390463132024-02-20T16:55:57.416-07:00UglyBob Gets FramedSo, who am I? I'm an old road biker, mountain biker, fixed-gear rider, writer and photographer. I do none of these things professionally, but it's still who I am. I have worked in construction, the medical industry and information technology, but now I work in my happy place; I'm a bicycle mechanic.UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-12430060673546863762009-07-21T11:28:00.002-07:002009-07-21T11:33:44.457-07:00The results are in...... and I didn't even place in the top three this year. Oh well, I got a cool bike out of the deal and there's always next year. You can go <a href="http://fixedgeargallery.com/contest/grocerygetter/">here</a> to see the other bikes and the judge's comments.UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-50438930606975790392009-07-14T19:09:00.006-07:002009-07-14T20:03:20.346-07:00Bringing Home the Bacon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8S-qhoVb5MYhJIwj_4hnXUJ_u7z7_ip8ymqRSw52wGSMmQkL5phwCdxZ7O_NbtSUFVl3SR-04JrbDUuW8pk8NvHOqA-KP8TWGQ4DNiVXLgZJzA89KBBSxqY2eiqU1XRyEhhpn0We5K94/s1600-h/gg004low.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8S-qhoVb5MYhJIwj_4hnXUJ_u7z7_ip8ymqRSw52wGSMmQkL5phwCdxZ7O_NbtSUFVl3SR-04JrbDUuW8pk8NvHOqA-KP8TWGQ4DNiVXLgZJzA89KBBSxqY2eiqU1XRyEhhpn0We5K94/s400/gg004low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358504078111691010" border="0" /></a><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Well, another year has gone by and another conversion contest is in the books. <span style=""> </span>This is my third year entering a bike in the fray and one of the best builds I think I’ve ever produced.<span style=""> </span>It certainly pushed the limits of my skills and forced me learn a few new ones, as each conversion has.<span style=""> </span>For the path-racer build-off, I bent wood into fenders; last year’s “Re-Cycle” allowed me to walk in my father’s shoes and showed me just how far I could stretch a buck.<span style=""> </span>This year I had to find a way to up the ante again, and I feel like I succeeded.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For this build I was hoping we would be assigned some sort of utility bike; a bike with a purpose.<span style=""> </span>I was quite happy when it was announced that we would be putting together “Grocery Getters”.<span style=""> </span>All kinds of visions started popping into my head.<span style=""> </span>There were racks, trailers and massive cargo carriers buzzing through my brain.<span style=""> </span>It was time to narrow things down and formulate a plan.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A suitable donor bike seemed the best place to start, so the hunt was on.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t have to look far. Tucked away in the corner of my garage was the perfect frame.<span style=""> </span>It was a nice aluminum Schwinn frame and fork from the early 90s that was given to me and seemed to fit the bill nicely.<span style=""> </span>The frame had clean lines, thick stays, and eyelets on the dropouts for mounting goodies. It had also been powder-coated a nice shiny black.<span style=""> </span>Further exploration in the depths of the garage yielded wheels, cranks, bars, fenders and pretty much everything else needed to put a rolling chassis together.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The growing pile of parts was taking on the look of something a little retro, so I decided to run with that.<span style=""> </span>I figured that wooden racks would look nice against the sleek, black framework.<span style=""> </span>I settled on red oak and set about sketching a design.<span style=""> </span>On the back, I wanted something with folding sides to hold re-usable shopping bags and the front would sport a six-pack rack.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Due to the loads the bike would be required to carry, brakes front and rear were a must.<span style=""> </span>I also added a rear view mirror. I figured that turning to look over my shoulder while loaded would be an open invitation to lose my balance and hit the pavement.<span style=""> </span>Lights would also be a requirement.<span style=""> </span>With daytime temperatures reaching 118F here in the desert, grocery runs would need to happen after dark if I wanted to make it home without hard-boiling the eggs!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While assembling the base bike I had a major stroke of luck.<span style=""> </span>The frame did not have horizontal drops, so I figured I would need a half-link to make the chain length come out right.<span style=""> </span>To my surprise, and relief, everything went together the first time with no issues! The 40/16 gearing and chain-stay length worked out perfect and the chain came out just right without any tweaking. Score!<span style=""> </span>The rest of the bike went together without issue and before long I was riding around the neighborhood.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now putting a working bike together is not really a big deal for me, but cabinet maker is not really high on my list of skills.<span style=""> </span>I’ve done some basic projects in the past, but this was going to be much more difficult. <span style=""> </span>My folding design was inspired by of all things, a folding shelf we used to have in the bathroom of our old house.<span style=""> </span>I set about cutting, sanding, drilling and gluing. After a few struggles and false starts, I was quite happy to see a nice set of racks emerging from the mess pouring out of my garage. I was also happy that I was finally able to unearth all of my woodworking tools and put them to use!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was now at the point of fabricating mounting brackets, finish sanding and varnishing.<span style=""> </span>I have to admit that I had some help at this stage; my soon-to-be nine year old nephew spent the day with me.<span style=""> </span>As I was working on the front mounting brackets, he was in charge of sanding the slats on the rear rack.<span style=""> </span>We then varnished the front rack together, painted the brackets, wrapped cork on the bars for grips, and called it a day.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>A couple of days later when I was getting ready to put the finish on the rear rack, I could see that he had done a pretty rough job of sanding.<span style=""> </span>There were still quite a few saw marks and deep scratches.<span style=""> </span>I grabbed the sander and started to smooth things out, but then something stopped me.<span style=""> </span>By removing the imperfection that he had left behind, I felt like I was removing his contribution to the project.<span style=""> </span>I put the sander down and just varnished it as-is, leaving what I now refer to as “memory marks”.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After final assembly the fun really started.<span style=""> </span>Loading up the bike and going for a ride.<span style=""> </span>I have to admit that I did some of the shopping for the test load in my pantry and made quite a few substitutions.<span style=""> </span>While not exact, I think the spirit of the shopping list (as well as the weight!) was fulfilled.<span style=""> </span>Here’s what I ended up with:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.5in; text-indent: -2in;"><span style=""> </span>8.8 pound bag of dog food <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>(I feel gypped)</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.5in; text-indent: -2in;">10 pound bag of kitty litter<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>(they didn’t have a 5 pounder, but it makes up for the dog food)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>1 gallon of distilled water<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>(we didn’t need the milk)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>1 pint of cottage cheese<span style=""> </span>(no use for the half & half)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>12 rolls of toilet paper<span style=""> </span>(didn’t have an 8-pack, so I went with two 6-packs)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>1 loaf of bread<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>(bread we use)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>1 pound of pasta<span style=""> </span>(my wife’s Italian so we always have pasta on hand)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>2 6-packs of soda<span style=""> </span>(already had enough beer… did I just say that?)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>12 ounces of honey<span style=""> </span>(that reminds me; I need to make some Meade)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>6 cans of tuna<span style=""> </span>(raided the cupboard for that one)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>2 boxes of red-beans & rice<span style=""> </span>(I hate tuna helper… it doesn’t help)</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Seeing as how I didn’t get all of this at the market today, I felt obligated to load the whole mess on the bike and ride it around the neighborhood for a distance equal to going to the store.<span style=""> </span>I have to say, riding in 113 degree heat with fifty plus pounds of stuff hanging off of a bike is quite the adventure.<span style=""> </span>Actual bulk seemed not to matter as much as weight distribution.<span style=""> </span>Heavy on one side is not a good thing.<span style=""> </span>Redistributing the goodies helped immensely.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My hunch about the mirror was also confirmed.<span style=""> </span>I have a tendency to veer to the left when looking over my shoulder to check traffic; this was amplified by the weight of the load.<span style=""> </span>Using the mirror eliminated that problem.<span style=""> </span>The need for brakes was also confirmed when some bonehead decided to make a left in front of me.<span style=""> </span>The cantilever brakes functioned well in the panic stop, but with that load pushing the bike I found myself wishing I had discs!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All things considered, I really like the final bike.<span style=""> </span>It rides great and meets the intended goal in every way.<span style=""> </span>I also picked up some mad wood working skills along the way and pushed out of my comfort zone again…and I bled a little bit but hey, that’s just me when I get around power tools and sharp objects!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP5w3RB3s95IcEe8XrrLx6__dXxNVqTbidQqn7-5oq6bSSeKErm3cNn5YCayoI-40wzhl5VlPrGx9-suOH-6zDSHhEPMgvjykl92oZlG9aoF4fC6xHH79c3OReERoAwWMXwy-o3vs5v9I/s1600-h/gg001low.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; 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width: 400px; height: 342px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8SBVJgor1K4KFoP59EmRA96ZnJvEU2IrM65bikhYrRlUWgrBX4B0XfPcnu_92XHsAOP4hcebdggwAPr9u1WlBVXSdzv7BENDfxgKQLWG7Zo4vw3MNr7BRIb2aT9twKGOBaMY9DNvOF0/s400/gg010low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358514752135978994" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6ou41o4AQJWvJCLR0kMyRFHv01ZZLvLviXbrm6F1Bmu5IzNNXf1ew3tGiKvDNBp7jgVfwnIt9hctnbxMyqezYxr4tQRoHv1CmXN6ixv-OvzrEYWuej2n7wQzhmIJ1GoYxp-lm9XmX5k/s1600-h/gg011low.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6ou41o4AQJWvJCLR0kMyRFHv01ZZLvLviXbrm6F1Bmu5IzNNXf1ew3tGiKvDNBp7jgVfwnIt9hctnbxMyqezYxr4tQRoHv1CmXN6ixv-OvzrEYWuej2n7wQzhmIJ1GoYxp-lm9XmX5k/s400/gg011low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358515760263520642" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik69sRSKzS_xm2VIcQ_p4RYMdYu-uobvQVRovx2cAgmWJWNv_YPa6NNs6W8IZEZf_4yRcX2PKK6i6oN74X-DsHxYqIO-4l6KeNrMdtVshP6chytBxMhLCMrcz6COGNWjFWJfYrzFBjqZE/s1600-h/gg012low.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik69sRSKzS_xm2VIcQ_p4RYMdYu-uobvQVRovx2cAgmWJWNv_YPa6NNs6W8IZEZf_4yRcX2PKK6i6oN74X-DsHxYqIO-4l6KeNrMdtVshP6chytBxMhLCMrcz6COGNWjFWJfYrzFBjqZE/s400/gg012low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358515762313375154" border="0" /></a><br /></div>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-78827412245240326402009-01-25T20:16:00.003-07:002009-01-25T21:32:06.299-07:00A Good Day on the BikeThe last couple of years I've been terrible when it comes to getting mileage in. My rides have been shorter and the time in between them longer. The main reasons have been poor health and lack of time, but the truth is I just haven't made it a priority. I've built a lot of very cool bikes, but I have been remiss when it comes to actually useing them...<br /><br />I decided this year was going to be different. I've really focused the last few weeks and the result is that in the first month of the year I will have 25% of the total mileage I logged for all of last year and mileage is what it's all about, right? After today I'm afraid I would have to say... wrong!<br /><br />Today I had every intention of getting out and doing a major ride, but plans change and I ended up going to Rio Vista Park with Debi and our eight and one half year old nephew, Bryson. The plan was that Debi would knit and read her book while Bryson and I did a few laps around the park, then when he got tired he would hang with her while I cut loose and went for a "real" ride. We loaded up some snacks, the bikes and one child, and headed for the park.<br /><br />After finding a nice ramada by the lake and parking Debi there, Bryson and I started our journey. He was riding the BMX bike Santa had brought him a little over a year ago and I was on my folding fixed gear. As with our past rides, I had my GPS on the bike keeping track of the distance and recording our track so we could print it out on a map afterward; he likes to have a record that he can show it to everyone.<br /><br />We cruised around looking at all of the people, the ducks, the other bikes and everything else you see on a sunny Sunday in the park. At first, all I could think about was how many miles I was <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> going to get in today, but after following him around for a while that feeling started to melt away. We talked about how to cross roads safely and pass people on the trails, we worked on balance and control, we talked about the different kinds of bikes, but most of all, we had a good time.<br /><br />Now, don't ask me why I though he was going to tire quickly so I could take off on my own; experience should have told me that wasn't going to happen. When we went for a ride on his birthday in July, he set a goal of 10 miles and darned if he didn't do it! Last week he did over 7 miles with me one afternoon. Well, today he blew both of those numbers away; the little sucker cranked out 14 miles and we have the GPS track to prove it! I never got to my solo ride.<br /><br />So, do I regret not getting in the miles I wanted to today? Absolutely not! Today mileage took a back seat to something much more important. Today I got to share my knowledge and love of the sport with a child; a child that accomplished something that most adults can't do. What can be better than that?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5nvfvw1oZGFj4gJV45UCZr6qjipACekPAIJoXVmRr87xaU5RdnfUDy8Ruqt3_rIah8CQZ6ucMt8ORBa-eHldTxqw8ISxl7ma6Rpw8BmT60Irz2Ad3coOcXCNNBgbtl-x3o2vif_yMG4/s1600-h/bryson002low.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF5nvfvw1oZGFj4gJV45UCZr6qjipACekPAIJoXVmRr87xaU5RdnfUDy8Ruqt3_rIah8CQZ6ucMt8ORBa-eHldTxqw8ISxl7ma6Rpw8BmT60Irz2Ad3coOcXCNNBgbtl-x3o2vif_yMG4/s400/bryson002low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295436364672714754" border="0" /></a>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-11004734204759613352009-01-06T15:54:00.003-07:002009-01-06T16:00:22.686-07:00Help! I can't stop building...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcU9vFYhd74DElj6wOlnPrtMj2iJx-Kbsjf33Qx-999P1kZX8GEB9ca4AaBP9giiRYYpb3bAHeZOd7eYW-zJcCsrR_vx3VO0rwthngWNSJbKbqF1BaBi4z6lT0DY9KqTnOvpHG0YtH7J0/s1600-h/ssr002low.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcU9vFYhd74DElj6wOlnPrtMj2iJx-Kbsjf33Qx-999P1kZX8GEB9ca4AaBP9giiRYYpb3bAHeZOd7eYW-zJcCsrR_vx3VO0rwthngWNSJbKbqF1BaBi4z6lT0DY9KqTnOvpHG0YtH7J0/s400/ssr002low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288318014794302530" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Well, I’ve been pretty bad about posting new material on the blog, but fear not, here comes another build. I hope you find this new project worth the wait!<br /><br />I usually like bikes that make a statement… you know, have a little flash or scream “LOOK AT ME!” at the top of their lungs. This time, I decided to keep it simple, basic and to the point. I wanted a true track bike; something I could ride at a velodrome, should I ever actually make it to one.<br /><br />I started with a Scattante SSR frame from Performance; a clean, well built steel frame. You can have any color you want as long as it’s black, and it comes without the decals applied; perfect for a clean look. The fork that they sell with this frame has a 40mm rake, too tight for me, so I opted for a Nashbar carbon fork at 43mm; it still steers fast, but it's not twitchy. It also comes with no decals…sweet!<br /><br /><br />For the rolling bits, I laced high flange Formula hubs to Mavic MA3's with 15 ga. stainless spokes. The bar set up is a Nitto B-123 on a Cinelli XA stem, and finished off with Benotto Cello ribbon. I acquired a well worn Sella Flite From a friend (the one who is now in possession of the Re-Cycle) and clamped it on a carbon post. The no-name cranks I picked up on Ebay are running a 48 tooth ring feeding a 16 tooth cog on the rear. The gearing is a little taller than I'm used to (about 79 inches), but it's lot of fun to ride.<br /><br />I added a front brake setup that is easily removed; just 2 bolts and it drops off to make the bike track legal. The brake really is necessary for riding in the traffic around here and doesn’t detract for the over all look of the bike.<br /><br />I really did try to keep this one low key and stealthy, but in doing so, I created a bike that seems to get more looks that just about anything I own. I guess less really is more…<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JOmo4yCNRxQsEfOBVMOLfZ8IItk_s_1S2iQ3lD1xdITNghwJi44M961I69vuvD7p4xIoALqMTpWvkSDF8HC3JvpaDnbdbpnY_i9wtHTanNQDoc_3wVeUrAXDThhVahICosflDD0FcNA/s1600-h/ssr004low.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JOmo4yCNRxQsEfOBVMOLfZ8IItk_s_1S2iQ3lD1xdITNghwJi44M961I69vuvD7p4xIoALqMTpWvkSDF8HC3JvpaDnbdbpnY_i9wtHTanNQDoc_3wVeUrAXDThhVahICosflDD0FcNA/s400/ssr004low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288319099316007026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Thyphenhyphen1mgyOTT_2U74o_ceNNEJOZwk8flEnV1XC-SNRcdjGxuTG1PVDPce3yZdo9YZdpXUHUmCOvd_5CpOyoUy9oe8u9msCbHk5Sr6838QaBZjBg-BUpvyg_ZCbmQ3vsSRBHTCFZ9C_03M/s1600-h/ssr005low.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Thyphenhyphen1mgyOTT_2U74o_ceNNEJOZwk8flEnV1XC-SNRcdjGxuTG1PVDPce3yZdo9YZdpXUHUmCOvd_5CpOyoUy9oe8u9msCbHk5Sr6838QaBZjBg-BUpvyg_ZCbmQ3vsSRBHTCFZ9C_03M/s400/ssr005low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288319103541980802" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnK7erv9krHrBM-fYq0iNkCJymuuEz5IO0d3myucE90j9Czj62y4b-0rNS_lOsKZ51vdeoG6IcTsotHzmpaQxecqLQn0yVvYYc64P6iInuxOJmvx8hckdkiSqPptCPqwD1_H95ub9QkvQ/s1600-h/ssr006low.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnK7erv9krHrBM-fYq0iNkCJymuuEz5IO0d3myucE90j9Czj62y4b-0rNS_lOsKZ51vdeoG6IcTsotHzmpaQxecqLQn0yVvYYc64P6iInuxOJmvx8hckdkiSqPptCPqwD1_H95ub9QkvQ/s400/ssr006low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288319110800917458" border="0" /></a>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-18852558099762340692008-08-12T21:46:00.002-07:002008-08-12T22:01:25.651-07:00And the Winner is...Well, the results of the FixedGearGallery.com build contest are in... and I took third place! <a href="http://www.fixedgeargallery.com/contest/2008-opendesign/index2.html">Here is the link to the contest page</a>.<br /><br />When I submitted this bike I really didn't expect to even place. For me, this year was more about doing something to honor Dad than to win anything, so this was just icing on the cake. I also gave the bike to Will (the guy I mentioned in the story) today. He seemed genuinely touched to get it and promised to ride the heck out of it!<br /><br />Oh, and here's one last thing that anyone who knew my father will understand. It cost me $25 to enter the contest and $9 to build the bike. I won $125 putting my profit from this venture at $91. Dad, I think I made my 4%...UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-52388241777957916592008-07-31T12:01:00.008-07:002008-07-31T22:11:03.720-07:002008 Fixedgear Gallery Build ContestWell, another build is finished and submitted. The theme for this years contest was an "Open Build", meaning that you could put together any kind of bike you like as long as it is a conversion of an existing bike. The spending limit was much higher this year, but I decided to take a different tack and see just how little I could spend. I was very happy with the result!<br /><br />Here's my my write up, as submitted to the judges. Enjoy!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PoN_soxUx-T8RTT_xguriRiKhb8h99-t0Olnn7MjP3I5zSlSMh_wCbuMvZ-e-iuqHpo0lcbSLY9Ja8AwilkY-_Hzi9vznTMWmW7f1m9ByfTXrBuZEud1IuKomAPAjiVqQqHAcOPCtrk/s1600-h/fgg200806.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PoN_soxUx-T8RTT_xguriRiKhb8h99-t0Olnn7MjP3I5zSlSMh_wCbuMvZ-e-iuqHpo0lcbSLY9Ja8AwilkY-_Hzi9vznTMWmW7f1m9ByfTXrBuZEud1IuKomAPAjiVqQqHAcOPCtrk/s400/fgg200806.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229262836679396434" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal">With this year’s contest being an open build, I had some trouble narrowing down my theme. I had grand plans of doing something completely over the top (I won’t say what my plan was, as I might still use it in a future contest) but after weighing all of my options, I decided to take a little different approach, go back to my roots and build a rolling tribute to my Dad. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To understand this approach, you need to first understand my father.<span style=""> </span>He was the king of making something from nothing, taking whatever he had on hand and fabricating whatever it was he needed.<span style=""> </span>The man was the consummate junk collector, never throwing anything away that might have a future use.<span style=""> </span>He was the living embodiment of “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure”… and he had acres of treasure!<span style=""> </span>He would re-cycle his treasure into all kinds of interesting vehicles and machines; he was green before it was cool.<span style=""> </span>In my case the apple didn’t fall far from the tree; I also collect ‘treasure’, but in the form of bikes.<span style=""> </span>There are bikes in my living room, bikes in my office and no cars in my garage because the space is taken up by, you guessed it… bikes!<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With the second anniversary of my father’s passing on the horizon, I came up with the idea of putting together a bike in the fashion he would have chosen.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to build something using bits and pieces from my treasure trove, spending as little money as possible.<span style=""> </span>I decided to build a “Re-Cycle”…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The first order of business was to find my donor bike.<span style=""> </span>I settled on an old Diamondback mountain bike that was given to me just to get it out of the way.<span style=""> </span>I figured starting with a free bike was a great foundation for a cheap-as-possible build.<span style=""> </span>I had already done some work on the bike with the intension of dumping it on Craigslist so it was in pretty nice shape and sported a lot of usable parts.<span style=""> </span>I dug through the garage to see what else I had that I could use to cut the budget.<span style=""> </span>My search yielded cranks, pedals and a nice seat… score! </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After stripping the bike down to the bare frame, I surveyed the pile of parts growing in front of me and formed a plan.<span style=""> </span>I knew I needed to do something special to set the bike apart, but what?<span style=""> </span>The first things to jump out at me were the wheels; why not try a different spoke pattern?<span style=""> </span>I poked around the web and found something that caught my eye.<span style=""> </span>It was a 3-leading, 3-trailing pattern that formed a 3 point star in the center.<span style=""> </span>Being a wheel builder I had the tools, and with any luck the skills, so I took up the challenge.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I deconstructed the wheel and recalculated the spokes for the new pattern.<span style=""> </span>Reusing the old spokes required that they be clipped and rethreaded.<span style=""> </span>After spending an evening reworking spokes and re-spacing the rear hub to the new chain line, the wheels went together without a fight… and man did they look cool!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next on the list was the frame prep. Using stripper left over from last year’s path racer build, I took the frame and fork down to the bare metal to get a clean slate for the paint.<span style=""> </span>I considered removing the braze-on for the brakes and shifting, but decided to keep them.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to keep brakes on the bike and, in the spirit of future recycling, leave the option for the next owner to restore gears if he so desired.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next was the color choice.<span style=""> </span>Again I went back to last years build; I had left over almond spray paint that screamed to be used.<span style=""> </span>This did help to keep the cost down, but in the end I had to spend five bucks on one more can of paint to get good coverage… the first cash spent on the project.<span style=""> </span>For the decals, I decided to again draw inspiration from the path racer and use the same red.<span style=""> </span>I figured this kind of tied the two bikes together, making them family.<span style=""> </span>Using my father’s “J-bird” trademark, I designed and printed up a set of waterslide decals to complete the look.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With paint done and wheels at the ready, all that remained was assembly.<span style=""> </span>The bike went together quickly and easily.<span style=""> </span>There were a couple of things that required some creative thinking; the grips and the seat post. Lacking a set of grips for the bars (and not wanting to spend any money), I again drew from last year and hand wrapped them with left over bar tape.<span style=""> </span>The look was pleasing and to tell you the truth, I like the feel better than the rubber ones. The second problem took a little more thinking.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The bars and stem were black and looked nice, but the seat post was bare steel… it stood out like a sore thumb.<span style=""> </span>Anyone who’s ever painted a seat post and then shoved it down into the frame knows that just ends up getting scraped up and looking like crap, so that was not an option.<span style=""> </span>I needed to find a cheap way to stain the post (note: black sharpie doesn’t work!).<span style=""> </span>The solution was found in my shooting supplies; a tube of gun bluing paste I use for touching the finish on old guns.<span style=""> </span>Gun barrels are steel, the seat post was steel… should work, right?<span style=""> </span>I cleaned and prepped the post, then applied the paste; worked like a charm.<span style=""> </span>With the last detail taken care of, the build was complete.<span style=""> </span>The total cost of this year’s bike… $9.00 ($5.00 for paint, $4.00 for decal paper).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now that the bike is done, the pictures have been taken, and this submission finished, there remains only one more task; giving the bike away.<span style=""> </span>With this bike being inspired by my father, I feel like the proper way to complete the circle is to pass it.<span style=""> </span>So, in the spirit of my father I have chosen a deserving recipient. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I work with a young man who is trying hard to build a life for his family, sometimes at the expense of his own sanity. <span style=""> </span>One of his outlets is riding, a passion he hopes to someday share with his now infant son.<span style=""> </span>He has been looking for a bike he can use to pull a child trailer around the neighborhood, and this one fits the bill nicely.<span style=""> </span>My treasure trove also includes a trailer (again, given to me for nothing) that, after a little refurbishing, will complete the set.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I really think my father would be proud…</p><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****************************<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br />Here are a few more shots of the bike:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">The donor bike<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jdylZhoRiNSlQyll6kObQJuNjLwt0yBqLls3DlP3HTVBwbVsKjw_0ra8vGnpZPBDZ-U5B2fN6zRHXJuuiIN9A30RRR8HQYXiwxeW10XkWqxjF0AEZFJrUKvx4xipfu-FYwVQbpLa4kA/s1600-h/fgg200801.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jdylZhoRiNSlQyll6kObQJuNjLwt0yBqLls3DlP3HTVBwbVsKjw_0ra8vGnpZPBDZ-U5B2fN6zRHXJuuiIN9A30RRR8HQYXiwxeW10XkWqxjF0AEZFJrUKvx4xipfu-FYwVQbpLa4kA/s320/fgg200801.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229257405998398962" border="0" /></a><br /><br />De-constructed wheel<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Hrb456wR9_I7LV4xZdsBoGcRbhRZtjqcLtBuYo1j1ag5Jr_D-gye03D1ATHSG2jeOWHaGNqAJ7aMtQw4ZrJfNexFRQhaURIpAuueDJkFv3uUR4fYC-7Q9cD-rEowBRvZGB7Xqeu984w/s1600-h/fgg200802.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Hrb456wR9_I7LV4xZdsBoGcRbhRZtjqcLtBuYo1j1ag5Jr_D-gye03D1ATHSG2jeOWHaGNqAJ7aMtQw4ZrJfNexFRQhaURIpAuueDJkFv3uUR4fYC-7Q9cD-rEowBRvZGB7Xqeu984w/s320/fgg200802.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229258370341257234" border="0" /></a><br />My spoke cutting and threading station<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO8cv2YOTJX4IZHpViW-3aaHNZvwsXbjvuGnP0_EvXHCeUNdKDKELolZoU_0GW_MuCDIAxv0rVbKGnoVt1e-2ItztikQLqpD3nNC0ooj08kcVPchiBj-4wllnqlnD55FXFPSMzYAgJoag/s1600-h/fgg200803.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO8cv2YOTJX4IZHpViW-3aaHNZvwsXbjvuGnP0_EvXHCeUNdKDKELolZoU_0GW_MuCDIAxv0rVbKGnoVt1e-2ItztikQLqpD3nNC0ooj08kcVPchiBj-4wllnqlnD55FXFPSMzYAgJoag/s320/fgg200803.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229258374035229586" border="0" /></a><br />Threading a spoke<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Xwkm6OEr0vK_8q4W9MmPGS0ZUa_qhTun8fvXH1GuHUzuvAHy5WXeJRQ8HuSig68E7xfSHK4BR1bUwuaqZwAVY-DUvG3s-qMS1Y2mTqn7Gf7s2vDmvbfyZU6UzlhtRS8Cq-wzCGuyP04/s1600-h/fgg200804.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Xwkm6OEr0vK_8q4W9MmPGS0ZUa_qhTun8fvXH1GuHUzuvAHy5WXeJRQ8HuSig68E7xfSHK4BR1bUwuaqZwAVY-DUvG3s-qMS1Y2mTqn7Gf7s2vDmvbfyZU6UzlhtRS8Cq-wzCGuyP04/s320/fgg200804.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229258378605918226" border="0" /></a><br />The finished front wheel<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9q-JR71y9gtGPCMDSySds2Mf7rsTQKUQbPAAeTw25Z4xCmpoaodjDbpYYpmxVt2-glgXsVOyJ_eY1r1Xl_HGbwyzXJGMCkQDSfD4hZJjHAR7vKf3eFFPPJtJdW6buDdqCdtFm-Jq7pdw/s1600-h/fgg200805.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9q-JR71y9gtGPCMDSySds2Mf7rsTQKUQbPAAeTw25Z4xCmpoaodjDbpYYpmxVt2-glgXsVOyJ_eY1r1Xl_HGbwyzXJGMCkQDSfD4hZJjHAR7vKf3eFFPPJtJdW6buDdqCdtFm-Jq7pdw/s320/fgg200805.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229258379553054962" border="0" /></a><br />Home made Re-Cycle decal<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRn-_tVffBt7w9FTk3voF6JrMNQCOVWNB5P6n_cNn1llCLSKfSWNt0LGLAGeHh9ehbTLtDHb4lYBH_PYoO6xS_ZkGqYWxe1KMK06-WZaa1u9LhynqyOlsQbB5SmGQhP7yOlQYF3RTeIQg/s1600-h/fgg200807.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRn-_tVffBt7w9FTk3voF6JrMNQCOVWNB5P6n_cNn1llCLSKfSWNt0LGLAGeHh9ehbTLtDHb4lYBH_PYoO6xS_ZkGqYWxe1KMK06-WZaa1u9LhynqyOlsQbB5SmGQhP7yOlQYF3RTeIQg/s320/fgg200807.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229258386570896226" border="0" /></a><br />Dad's trademark<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2y4IgF2wAlsV7IWoo31tBclT1DPL6QSCfnJGPr8vDRry2y6ln8HopRxoiXr77n60ad-YPGrA3jvUE515gvrs6-70mYviAdczrtB3YkvdUQA_cNzPWjDd0bfRJQ8CEoZ_jFah5D3j0FMk/s1600-h/fgg200812.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2y4IgF2wAlsV7IWoo31tBclT1DPL6QSCfnJGPr8vDRry2y6ln8HopRxoiXr77n60ad-YPGrA3jvUE515gvrs6-70mYviAdczrtB3YkvdUQA_cNzPWjDd0bfRJQ8CEoZ_jFah5D3j0FMk/s320/fgg200812.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229259870618426306" border="0" /></a><br />Hand wrapped grips<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapeadyDw_E48T9UFPO9Pl3yQGE6vqyelwFbXmtyMC-wkzl2Bg8W5yvoSQ37TnMP7_Otn0sT72sBcuWzzsj-O_PeraxpouD_yXmXiShO8LWJACRXE4IRWYRtsWwvu60_yrMvsrLBZd-Ec/s1600-h/fgg200808.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjapeadyDw_E48T9UFPO9Pl3yQGE6vqyelwFbXmtyMC-wkzl2Bg8W5yvoSQ37TnMP7_Otn0sT72sBcuWzzsj-O_PeraxpouD_yXmXiShO8LWJACRXE4IRWYRtsWwvu60_yrMvsrLBZd-Ec/s320/fgg200808.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229259859101488434" border="0" /></a><br />3-leading, 3-trailing spoke pattern<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8b3SMtMDIII_8hb7TJboPoi-FCVpHkIlRLTZ_Z5wO9kQL-oj9Te5RbKMKBcTDQ2QnoYlhVXcOXU3GJnaZ7RKyLXiSkYJr1ecq8FZZzUnnK7zLjY_EVqwll_KMmPWSUoNzfc75D31_cBU/s1600-h/fgg200809.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8b3SMtMDIII_8hb7TJboPoi-FCVpHkIlRLTZ_Z5wO9kQL-oj9Te5RbKMKBcTDQ2QnoYlhVXcOXU3GJnaZ7RKyLXiSkYJr1ecq8FZZzUnnK7zLjY_EVqwll_KMmPWSUoNzfc75D31_cBU/s320/fgg200809.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229259860413349874" border="0" /></a><br />The finished beast<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWW-0kiVSNDAczZ7topSGrySA6p3r-WOkfa4O6R2lrcVsDQ0tmH_PHfKxqREktRygbdf943NGBiitWmnyUtkjkzZoy6ihzr3YWV35LPyZx74U-47Nm_3KNYSXWddxG17ToKRCgrjWrSQ/s1600-h/fgg200811.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWW-0kiVSNDAczZ7topSGrySA6p3r-WOkfa4O6R2lrcVsDQ0tmH_PHfKxqREktRygbdf943NGBiitWmnyUtkjkzZoy6ihzr3YWV35LPyZx74U-47Nm_3KNYSXWddxG17ToKRCgrjWrSQ/s320/fgg200811.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229259866862371282" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40PKolCxuhgua6mcuV1YKV5WgClIWQuidWCiTrPN757WrEzm_dudtDTHbrHhqRa0xS72QApiOtFYD0IpCnATeEo4q8SoAbACiQklGubAurjB7-bTre6tn7x8NByu_k1Vy7Z_58AkyG08/s1600-h/fgg200810.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40PKolCxuhgua6mcuV1YKV5WgClIWQuidWCiTrPN757WrEzm_dudtDTHbrHhqRa0xS72QApiOtFYD0IpCnATeEo4q8SoAbACiQklGubAurjB7-bTre6tn7x8NByu_k1Vy7Z_58AkyG08/s320/fgg200810.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229259867611305362" border="0" /></a><br /></div></div></div>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-21496425160437135142008-06-05T09:04:00.005-07:002008-06-06T14:48:05.619-07:00A New Arrival in the Bird HouseWell folks, the day is finally here. Brace yourselves... I'm actually posting something <span style="font-style: italic;">new!</span><br /><br />There are a lot of changes in the wind for our family. It seems that everyone we know, and many we are related to, have been popping out babies! OK, some have yet to pop them out, but you get the idea. Before you get the wrong impression let me tell you not to worry... Debi and I are not getting in on that act. We love the fact that we get to play with all of these little bundles of joy... and then promptly hand them back to the parents when they are not so joyful!<br /><br />There is, however, a new arrival in our home. It's a bouncing baby bike!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCW4gu1plV8pQlj53CRgEo8wGeQcEGd8nZd8wpck01wJPwWjl0iaxQBnXy2MvySsy1YkyIfwIpT_CjdMlNg7vjWAOyTRLHNWuPUV7F6k_-IxvDVNjevubnHRBXp65wXGe-HyYkSoalMA/s1600-h/touring02mid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSCW4gu1plV8pQlj53CRgEo8wGeQcEGd8nZd8wpck01wJPwWjl0iaxQBnXy2MvySsy1YkyIfwIpT_CjdMlNg7vjWAOyTRLHNWuPUV7F6k_-IxvDVNjevubnHRBXp65wXGe-HyYkSoalMA/s320/touring02mid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208432875520250626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Not what you expected, right? Haven't you been paying attention? This is a <span style="font-weight: bold;">BIKE</span> blog! Let me tell you how this one came about.<br /><br />I've been looking at this touring frame on Nashbar.com for a couple of years, but could never justify the purchase. I've always wanted to build a touring/commuting specific bike and had my old Bianchi set up for it, but it just wasn't the real thing. Don't get me wrong; the Bianchi is a very nice bike, but it's just not the same.<br /><br />Well, a few weeks ago I was looking at the frame again on the Nashbar site. It normally sells for about $300 for the frame and fork, and was on sale for $225. Again, I just couldn't justify it at that price, but the rusty littles wheels in my brain started turning. I work for Performance Bike and get <span style="font-style: italic;">deep </span>discounts on company branded items. Performance owns Nashbar... the frame is a Nashbar branded item... shouldn't I get a discount on the frame? I figured it couldn't hurt to ask!<br /><br />The process took a little while, but was well worth it. Jay (my boss) sent a few emails to someone in the head office that handles employee purchasing, they hooked him up with someone over at Nashbar that handled them over there, and so on until I ended up on the phone with what turned out to be the woman of my dreams. The price she quoted me was... wait for it.... $45! Can you believe that?<br /><br />Well, I could feel the credit card in my wallet heating up, so I whipped that little sucker out and started reading her the numbers. I figured I'd better jump on it quick before she figured out she had dropped a decimal point or something! The final total with shipping and tax was $63.10.<br /><br />After a couple weeks of digging parts out of the garage and making raids on Ebay, what you see is the final result. With the price of gas going up exponentially, it's not going to take too many months of commuting on this bike to break even. Now I just have to get my butt in good enough shape to actually do some touring...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSYn9w969KL7Xtagbmed-hMAiDa8TOzLG1VcZJtJoCATqzFRWQ6_UkW2PrTiMfOyfhZFDuni56fkanGe1U_ldiGb7i7rTQ60QXgX4Q32-sji8IzFi8apx5fKFXgg0bAIlR1eYcksqK0k/s1600-h/touring04mid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSYn9w969KL7Xtagbmed-hMAiDa8TOzLG1VcZJtJoCATqzFRWQ6_UkW2PrTiMfOyfhZFDuni56fkanGe1U_ldiGb7i7rTQ60QXgX4Q32-sji8IzFi8apx5fKFXgg0bAIlR1eYcksqK0k/s320/touring04mid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208442224376449778" border="0" /></a>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-66783763894671156532008-05-10T19:53:00.003-07:002008-08-22T17:12:18.823-07:00More RamblingsWell, a few days have gone by and still I haven't written anything new. It's not that I haven't got anything to write about, I just haven't felt "inspired". Oh well, looks like you guys are just going to have to suffer through another one of my old ramblings.<br /><br />Guys, if your wife ever complains about your wardrobe choices, just print this out and leave it in a conspicuous place; it should help to get you off the hook... for a little while anyway. You're welcome!<br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b>Been There, Done That, Got the T-Shirt!</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Some things in life are very predictable and I seem to be one of them.<span style=""> </span>Whenever my wife and I are getting dressed to go out she seems to feel the need to inform me to “wear a shirt without writing on it!”<span style=""> </span>Now some people might feel that their fashion sense is being called into question, but I have to admit that when she makes this statement, nine out of ten times I’m just poking my head through the neck hole of a t-shirt that looks more like a billboard than apparel.<span style=""> </span>I guess after twenty-two years she knows me pretty well.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">However, the odds of being right are stacked heavily in her favor.<span style=""> </span>I think about 90% of my upper body attire fits into this category. It started out as a handful t-shirts commemorating events and physical accomplishments in my life and just grew out of control from there.<span style=""> </span>My collection now includes polo shirts, button-downs, tank tops, hats, jackets… you get the idea.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t set out with the goal of becoming a walking advertisement, it just sort of evolved that way until, eventually, it took on a life of it’s own.<span style=""> </span>The spark was lit by those little logo key chains that everyone gives away and tinder was provided by hats and charity ride t-shirts. The bonfire was then brought to full glory in the form of brightly colored cycling jerseys. One might think that the next logical step is to re-paint my truck with the image of my favorite beer label (this thought has been considered and rejected).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unlike my wife, however, I don’t see this as a bad thing.<span style=""> </span>I like to be surrounded by little reminders of the important events in my life.<span style=""> </span>A lot of the souvenirs that we collect just end up shoved to the back of shelf or stuffed in a box in the top of a closet, never to be seen again.<span style=""> </span>I get to wear my memories every day. They are a constant reminder of the good times, the hard fought battles and the people who fought beside me.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">They also serve as conversation starters at times.<span style=""> </span>Some one will see one of my charity ride shirts and ask, ”Hey, where did you get that?”<span style=""> </span>This opens the door for me to reply with something like, “I had to ride 160 miles to get this shirt!”<span style=""> </span>Then we are off and running, swapping war stories and sharing the pride and pain that are attached to this special garment.<span style=""> </span>Let’s see an off the rack Izod shirt do that!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This effect isn’t limited to the event shirts in my collection. One evening I was standing in the airport waiting for my luggage sporting a “Fat Tire Ale” shirt when I felt a tap on my shoulder.<span style=""> </span>I turned around and was immediately greeted with a handshake and a big “thank you” for choosing to wear the logo proudly.<span style=""> </span>It seems I had been spotted by a district manager for New Belgium Brewing and he felt the need to acknowledge, and encourage, my un-solicited advertising of his products.<span style=""> </span>We had a brief but interesting conversation, shook hands again and parted ways, both a little uplifted by the chance meeting.<span style=""> </span>Another positive human interaction brought to you courtesy of a ”shirt with writing on it.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now, I’m not saying that logo wear is the key to world peace. That would be too broad of a statement.<span style=""> </span>The world has a delicate balance that must be maintained. For every good there is a bad; every positive has a negative… you know, the old Yin and Yang thing. The opposite of the apparel that I wear would be the kind that displays collage and professional sports logos.<span style=""> </span>I have seen more than one fight started by the flashing of the wrong crest in the wrong bar or arena.<span style=""> </span>Just try wearing a U of A jersey to an ASU game and see how long you last!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So what’s the final word on this subject? I don’t think there is one. The bottom line is that I like my logo apparel. I enjoy wearing it and sharing it with others. I realize that it’s not always the best choice based on the venue we will be visiting and I am trainable.<span style=""> </span>Now, when we are getting dressed to go out, I’m usually the one questioning the dress code.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Honey, are we going to a ‘no writing shirt’ place tonight?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-87038137300237185782008-05-07T11:54:00.004-07:002008-08-22T17:11:41.853-07:00I'm Lazy, So...Well, I still haven't written anything new so it looks like it's back to the old. This was written about 3 years ago after a non-cyclist asked me what a recover ride was. It got my brain perking, thinking about what it meant to me as opposed to the general population. Enjoy!<br /><br /><br /><br /><p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoTitle">Recovery Rides</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><o:p> </o:p></b><o:p><br /></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">If you hang around cyclists long enough you’ll hear the term ”recovery ride” used quite often. The conversation might go something like this:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So, how’d you do today?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I had a nice easy ride… very relaxing”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“See anybody else out there?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, at one point some loser on a piece of department store junk blew by me, but I just let him go. If I wasn’t on my <i>recovery ride</i>, I would have hammered it and dropped him like a bad habit!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, what is this <i>recovery ride </i>they speak of? It all depends on who you talk to. Most cyclists will tell you it’s an easy spin the day after a hard ride, like a century or a race; or maybe you spent the previous day climbing mammoth hills or doing intervals. The recovery ride works out all of the byproducts of the metabolic process and gets the kinks out of things. For me it’s something different.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now before I can give my definition, I need to tell you a little about me and why I ride. I’m forty-something and not the best physical specimen around. I’ve been riding bikes off and on for most of my life, but didn’t get very serious about it until I was closing in on my 30<sup>th</sup> year. Up to that time, riding was just another way to get from point A to point B if it wasn’t too far and I didn’t feel like driving. The bike spent most of the time on the back porch and my butt was behind the wheel of something with more horsepower. That changed thanks to good old <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Phoenix</st1:place></st1:city> traffic jams and unreliable vehicles.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was living on the west side at the time and working downtown at one of the hospitals. The traffic on the way home was always very slow. It was stop and start, taking several cycles to get through lights, and just generally frustrating. Then, just to add insult to injury, car problems set in. I hated riding the bus, so the bike became my primary mode of transportation by default.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">During this stint as a bike commuter I discovered a couple of things that surprised me. First, it usually took me 40 to 45 minutes to drive home in the crush of cars that clogged the streets in the afternoon… it only took me 27 minutes on the bike! The second thing I discovered was even more surprising. By the time I cranked myself past all of the poor helpless souls trapped in their stalled, smoking boxes on wheels and rolled into the driveway at home, the stress of the day seemed to have disappeared. I was literally burning off all of the bad energy clouding my brain and infecting my body. What started out as a negative situation was having a positive effect; I was becoming a happier person.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Do you remember what it was like as a kid when you learned to ride a bike? For me, it was my first real taste of freedom. The bike was my magic carpet, taking me to places that were previously out of reach or required parental participation. In commuting by bike, I had rediscovered that freedom. I was no longer confined by my petroleum-fueled prison. I could feel the wind flowing over me and see the world unobstructed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Emotion became my fuel of choice now. I could take all of the anger, frustration and disappointment, stress… whatever was nagging me, and concentrate the energy, focus it on the pedals and fly! I’d spin like a man possessed, burning away the blackness until all that remained was the pure joy of being one with this fantastic machine that had given me such a gift… and this brings me back to where we started.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, what’s <i>my</i> definition of a recovery ride? Well, when you consider the mental and spiritual benefits I reap every time I climb in the saddle and set the wheels in motion, there can be only one answer… <i>every ride is a recovery ride!<o:p></o:p></i></p>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-55810291277370116852008-04-29T21:08:00.001-07:002008-08-22T17:11:01.122-07:00My Pathracer Build<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_AZavQ1Vg7OEjsavT1dJoJB-LcaWLHKbP7n2vNwVDncHvt9QaEnChztP84J6atQV7yMJJ607gt1NyGsJ3njrIGYkXjcu8jyrA8lb7JP5rDLOq-MGYaWMi4Ax4kwnKLolajDk5_0Oa3s/s1600-h/025low.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_AZavQ1Vg7OEjsavT1dJoJB-LcaWLHKbP7n2vNwVDncHvt9QaEnChztP84J6atQV7yMJJ607gt1NyGsJ3njrIGYkXjcu8jyrA8lb7JP5rDLOq-MGYaWMi4Ax4kwnKLolajDk5_0Oa3s/s320/025low.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194890231914954610" border="0" /></a><br />OK, another story about one of my bikes... see a trend developing here? One of the places I hang out on line is <a href="http://fixedgeargallery.com/">fixedgeargallery.com</a>. For the last couple of years they have been sponsoring a bike building contest, usually with some unusual twists. For 2007 the theme was Path Racer bikes, a turn of the century (the last one, not this one) style of off and on road fixed racer. We had a couple of months to complete the projects and (here's the twist) a budget limit of $187!<br /><br />Rather than reprint the entire write-up here, along with all of the pictures, I will provide a <a href="http://www.fixedgeargallery.com/contest/pathracer/BobBird/">link </a>to the article posted on Fixed Gear Gallery. Hope you enjoy the story. Oh, and the bike took second place!UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-70384535300664012432008-04-28T16:43:00.001-07:002008-08-22T17:10:20.086-07:00More Old Stuff<span style="font-family:georgia;">Here's a little ditty that's kind of related to the last story (same bike). This was written in the summer of 2006, right after it happened.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Birthday Ride</span><br />July 21, 2006<br /></div><br />As I’m pushing the half-century mark, birthdays are becoming a scary thing for me. Getting older never seems to get any easier, but I’m finding ways to deal with it. I have one birthday tradition that seems to help put things in perspective for me. Every birthday, like many other cyclists, I ride my age in miles; one mile for every year. To increase the challenge and make things more interesting, I’ve also added another twist to it. I now do my birthday ride on a bike that’s the same age as me; a 1959 Schwinn Traveler.<br /><br />This was the first year I rode the “new” bike, so I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Most of my road bikes fall around the 20 pound mark; this one hit the scales somewhere north of 38 pounds. Riding 47 miles on this beast seemed a little daunting at first, but I figured if I can do 100 miles on a 20 pound bike I should be able to do half that on one weighing twice as much… right? Right or not, I was going to give it a shot.<br /><br />I headed out a little before 6:00am. The overnight temperature was still hovering around 94F. Picture an old fat guy on an equally old three speed cruiser heading off into the sunrise. I decided my team kit might be a little much for this ride so I opted for black bib-shorts and a plain white jersey instead. I had considered mountain bike shorts, but I knew it was going to be hot, so I went for comfort.<br /><br />About 5 or 6 miles into the ride the wind started to kick up... a head wind, of course! The first part of the ride contained most of the climbing so I had to do it into the wind; the temps were also rising rapidly as the sun got higher in the sky. I have no bottle holders on the '59 Schwinn, so I went with a Camelbak full of water and one Polar insulated bottle with Gatorade sticking out of my handlebar bag. Lord, I was a sight to behold!<br /><br />Pushing a 38 pound 3-speed bike around in sweltering heat is no easy task, but I managed to keep a nice pace and only took one 5 minute rest stop at mile 24. My computer started to go a little crazy, dropping in and out, so I couldn't trust it. This meant that I had to stick to my pre-mapped route to insure I got my mileage. That removed my bail-out options to avoid the few hills I faced, but I coped.<br /><br />I cruised along a nice clip, enjoying the ride much more than I had expected. I was starting to regain some of the joy of my youth, but that was about to change. As I rode west along my route, I was approached from behind by another cyclist. As he over took me he yelled, "GET THAT PIECE OF CRAP ON THE SIDEWALK!"<br /><br />Let me tell you a little about this guy. He looked to be late twenties to early thirties and was riding a shiny red road bike with late-model 9-speed gearing on it. He was also wearing a brand new Phonak team kit. He hadn't even sweated the creases out of it yet. This was one day after Floyd Landis made his epic ride in the mountains of the 2006 Tour De France. The man stank of "Poser". He pissed off the wrong guy…<br /><br />It didn't matter to me that I had 32 miles under my belt and was riding a half century old bike that weighed twice as much as his... IT WAS ON!!! I mashed the pedals and quickly closed the gap, jumping onto his back wheel. As we approached the next intersection I saw the walk light change to flashing red; I knew this meant I had 13 seconds before the light turned yellow. Timing my sprint, I shot out from behind him, hit third gear and stood on it! As I blew by I returned the favor and yelled, "GET THAT PIECE OF CRAP ON THE SIDEWALK!" right back at him!<br /><br />Just as I hit the intersection, the light turned yellow. I dropped back into the seat and looked back over my shoulder. He was about 30 yards back and huffing hard as he jammed the brakes and got caught at the light. I looked at the computer; it showed a maximum speed of 28.3mph... not a bad sprint! I finished my ride with 47.3 miles and a big old grin plastered on my face.<br /><br />I’m sure that guy doesn’t know it, but he gave me the best birthday present I got this year. I was handed the opportunity to win a little respect for myself and all of old guys out there puttering around on their faithful old steeds. Maybe he learned a lesson, maybe he didn’t, but I’m willing to bet he never forgets our little encounter; I know I never will!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*********<br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Note:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">The best part of this is that I ran into the same guy about six weeks later while riding my vintage Schwinn Paramount racing bike. Needless to say, he was shocked. We had a nice little talk about respecting you elders, then I proceeded to drop him again as I turned and rode up the steepest hill in the area!</span>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-59101410380126351652008-04-28T08:55:00.001-07:002008-08-22T17:09:47.999-07:00Another Old Story<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ye9W3Tf7A-gt1kweOtMRN_RyoijyGf4nJLC1RKI1Bnd-aYYcDoQvPhOAdVJ2TCxzNOU0OJw5FdTw5q1odAZUm-PmeXzuK0FzOSRptMZzSngNr6TytRfQjjAK1UprfW_K10z5V26RpcQ/s1600-h/1959Schwinn11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ye9W3Tf7A-gt1kweOtMRN_RyoijyGf4nJLC1RKI1Bnd-aYYcDoQvPhOAdVJ2TCxzNOU0OJw5FdTw5q1odAZUm-PmeXzuK0FzOSRptMZzSngNr6TytRfQjjAK1UprfW_K10z5V26RpcQ/s320/1959Schwinn11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194327745818001250" border="0" /></a><br />Here's another blast from the past (2005). I promise I'll start writing some new stuff soon... really! Until then, I'll just do my part for recycling!<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b style="">A Cycle of Life<o:p></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b style=""><o:p> </o:p></b></p><o:p></o:p><o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like most people, I have many passions.<span style=""> </span>I love photography, computers, writing and most of all, cycling.<span style=""> </span>I try to find ways to combine them when I can. I carry a camera when I ride, and try to capture the moments in words as well.<span style=""> </span>Last summer the writing and riding came together in an unexpected way.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A few years ago I started a new birthday tradition.<span style=""> </span>On my special day I mount my trusty steed and ride one mile for every year of my life.<span style=""> </span>This served me well for several years, but eventually became too easy as I became more fit.<span style=""> </span>I needed to find a way to put the magic back into it… and I did.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The magic came in form of a “new” bike.<span style=""> </span>I decided to seek out a bike that was made the same year I was born; a kindred spirit of sorts.<span style=""> </span>My search ended with the purchase of a 1959 Schwinn Traveler bicycle in less than stellar condition.<span style=""> </span>It was scratched, rusty, and in need of just about everything; it was perfect! <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I started about the task of restoring it with great enthusiasm. I took everything apart, removed rust, polished chrome and greased bearings.<span style=""> </span>As I was contemplating touching up the paint on the frame, something stopped me.<span style=""> </span>I sat for a long moment looking at all of the scratches and chips, inspecting each carefully.<span style=""> </span>For some reason I just couldn’t paint over them; then it hit me, they were telling me a story.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I ran my fingers over the cool steel tubes, feeling every imperfection like a blind man reading a page of Braille. The entire history of this bike was written in the scratches and wear marks peeking through the fading black paint; scars left by 46 years of use, much like the scars adorning my own body.<span style=""> </span>The circular marks rubbed into the top tube; is this where the cable and lock that protected it from thieves hung? The wear bands on the seat stays from a book rack; perhaps this bike was responsible for transporting someone to a higher education… or simply a paper route.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This two wheeled treasure read like an old mystery novel.<span style=""> </span>How many miles had it seen? What roads had it traveled? How many lives had it touched?<span style=""> </span>My imagination ran wild with the possibilities. How could I just erase that with a little pigment and a brush?<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The answer is… <i style="">I couldn’t! </i><span style=""> </span>In the end I came to the conclusion that I should go for preservation, not restoration.<span style=""> </span>I carefully finished cleaning the frame without editing the story laid out before me, and sealed it up with a coat of wax before reassembling the bike.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As I ride this bicycle now, I do my best to respect it’s past and guarantee it’s future.<span style=""> </span>It gets cleaned, adjusted and lubricated with great care, but I won’t panic if I put a scratch or two in the paint… I’ll simply look at it as adding my chapter to the story.</p>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-28649982425384351552008-04-27T08:24:00.002-07:002008-08-22T17:08:47.331-07:00Old, Fat and Bloody<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QMEpHb5rmN0zw4V3ylIbcE1aREuTaL48flqDLv4VobXMKu2yLf_sm_bQtmvia-9CbV6f3Y4JXSl8NeH9JW-2ruDvhbJ33uIIalmofjGtfO3rRkDFJVTLGNMpM0O6Z98K-tavg-hzpLY/s1600-h/oldfatandbloody.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6QMEpHb5rmN0zw4V3ylIbcE1aREuTaL48flqDLv4VobXMKu2yLf_sm_bQtmvia-9CbV6f3Y4JXSl8NeH9JW-2ruDvhbJ33uIIalmofjGtfO3rRkDFJVTLGNMpM0O6Z98K-tavg-hzpLY/s320/oldfatandbloody.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193949054256545618" border="0" /></a><br />Here's an oldie, but a goody. This was one of the first pieces I sat down and banged out on the keyboard. It's a little rough, as I had not yet developed my "voice" (or a firm grip on proper English). This was written in about 2002 and had to do with my introduction to the world of mountain biking. Lord help an old roadie...<br /><br /><p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoTitle">Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let’s get a few details out of the way first.<span style=""> </span>I’m over forty, over weight and over the hill.<span style=""> </span>Years ago I was road biker, not a good one, but I was out there cranking and feeling pretty cool about it.<span style=""> </span>I would ride to work right through the heart of <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Phoenix</st1:place></st1:city> during rush hour.<span style=""> </span>This was not very popular with most of the vehicles I encountered along my route, but I held my head high and held my lane position. Needless to say, my wife thought I was nuts, but she learned to live with it. I only had one minor incident during this time, but it really wasn’t as bad as the paramedics made it out to be.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is also when I started doing charity rides.<span style=""> </span>It gave me my first taste of riding with a group. I discovered the joy of drafting and the high that comes from knowing you are pulling about 40 other riders behind you at a 26 mph pace.<span style=""> </span>I was on top of the world.<span style=""> </span>I did the MS150 ride out of <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Phoenix</st1:city></st1:place> for 5 years in a row and loved every turn of the cranks.<span style=""> </span>But then age started to catch up to me, or so I thought.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I started to have some joint pain.<span style=""> </span>Next came muscle pain.<span style=""> </span>By the time I finished a 20 mile ride, my knees would be screaming and my legs would be on fire.<span style=""> </span>I just couldn’t do it any more, so I parked the bike in the garage and parked my butt on the couch.<span style=""> </span>I figured bikes were for kids and it was time I started to act my age… big mistake.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Five years and 85 lbs later I found out what the real problem was.<span style=""> </span>For years my doctor had me on a medication to lower my cholesterol.<span style=""> </span>At the suggestion of my wife, I was taken off of it in the spring of 2001.<span style=""> </span>Within a week my knees were feeling better, my joints stopped hurting and the muscle pain was gone.<span style=""> </span>I was overjoyed!<span style=""> </span>It was like some one had turned back the clock. One of the first things I did was dust off my bike and climb back into the saddle.<span style=""> </span>My trusty steed groaned under the added load, but it held up. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My legs seemed to instantly recall the cadence, and that familiar feeling of freedom I remember started to return.<span style=""> </span>My pace was much slower now due to the time off and the added weight, but I was back at it and that was all that mattered to me.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t know it yet, but the real fun was just around the corner.<span style=""> </span>I was about to get my introduction to mountain biking.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the urging of Josh, my niece’s husband and an avid mountain biker 15 years my junior, I decided to take to the dirt and see how the other half lived.<span style=""> </span>The first thing I needed was a bike.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t see the point in sinking major bucks into the latest technology until I knew if I was even going to like it, so I bought a used hard-tail from an Oregon-State police auction on eBay and fixed it up.<span style=""> </span>After a couple of loops around the forest to get used to the shifting, I was ready to take the plunge, and what a plunge it was!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a beautiful July morning and the sun was just coming over the mountains east of the valley as we loaded the bikes in the truck and took to the highway.<span style=""> </span>We were heading for <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">McDowell</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Mountain</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype st="on">Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>, an area with trails developed specifically for bikes.<span style=""> </span>My wife’s last words to Josh as we went out the door were something like, “Don’t bring him back broken”.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now let me ask you this; if you were taking someone out for the first time, where would you start him out?<span style=""> </span>Would you choose to find a dirt road somewhere, or maybe a gently rolling trail?<span style=""> </span>Well, <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">McDowell</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Mountain</st1:placetype></st1:place> is a competitive track consisting of three loops, the Sport Loop, the Technical Loop and the Long Loop.<span style=""> </span>Do you see anything in there named the Beginners Loop?<span style=""> </span>I think you see where this is going…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we arrived at the park, we were almost alone.<span style=""> </span>This being central <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Arizona</st1:state></st1:place> in July, most people had already finished their rides and headed for the bagel shop.<span style=""> </span>We unloaded the bikes, checked the map, took a few snapshots and headed for the Sport Loop.<span style=""> </span>This was the real thing now and I was ripe with anticipation.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The trail started off easy enough.<span style=""> </span>It was twisty and rolling, kind of fun, but having no technical skills yet I took it slow.<span style=""> </span>Then the first hill reminded me just how long I had been off of a bike.<span style=""> </span>I had to stop and catch my breath at the top, allowing a little extra time for my breakfast to make it’s way from the top of my throat back down to my stomach. (Note to self: no McDonalds right before a ride!)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As we began the next leg of our adventure, I found myself staring down a steep drop with a quick run back up the other side followed by another downhill.<span style=""> </span>The whole thing wound up with a hard right at the sandy bottom of a wash before the next climb.<span style=""> </span>After watching Josh’s technique, I stood up on the pedals, hung my butt behind the seat and down the hill I went.<span style=""> </span>I flew up the other side, over the top and down the next drop.<span style=""> </span>I checked my speed down and, thankfully, I was able to get off of the bike without incident when I buried the front tire in the sand during my turn.<span style=""> </span>I had survived my first technical section!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My adrenalin was pumping now so I was able to grind my way up the next hill without too much trouble. At the top, the trail became pretty flat with occasional twists and small rolls. I picked up my speed a little.<span style=""> </span>I was starting to get the rhythm now, and my confidence soared.<span style=""> </span>“So, this is what mountain biking is like”, I thought to myself.<span style=""> </span>Not at all like the steady spin of the road, more like a roller coaster ride!<span style=""> </span>The roller coaster was about to jump the track…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As we started down into the next big wash Josh was about 40 yards in front of me. He was showing a great deal of restraint, trying not to get too far ahead even though I could tell he wanted to just cut loose and fly.<span style=""> </span>This is where I had my first encounter with washboards.<span style=""> </span>This encounter ended with my front tire in a bush, but I was still upright and undaunted.<span style=""> </span>I backed out of the brush and pointed down the hill once more as Josh flew up the other side.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I rounded the corner at the bottom of the hill, things really started to go wrong.<span style=""> </span>I swung a little wide and my front tire clipped a fist-sized rock.<span style=""> </span>Not being used to front suspension, I overcorrected instead of just letting the shock absorb it.<span style=""> </span>The front tire started to snowplow sideways in the loose dirt, catching a root.<span style=""> </span>The bike stopped; I didn’t.<span style=""> </span>According to Josh I was talking all the way down.<span style=""> </span>He said it was the first time he had heard a running commentary during a crash from the person who was doing the crashing!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As the dust settled, I picked my self up and uttered a few choice words, blood seeping from several new openings in my body.<span style=""> </span>I limped over, stood what was left of my bike up and started to inspect the damage.<span style=""> </span>Josh was flying back down the hill toward me.<span style=""> </span>As he closed in his first words to me were, “ Don’t move!<span style=""> </span>Let me get the camera!”<span style=""> </span>I had now been baptized into the brotherhood. I had dirt in my blood, literally, and he seemed to feel it was important to document the occasion. I understood the need and struck a pose.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the photo session concluded we assessed the damage to both bike and body.<span style=""> </span>I wasn’t too concerned about the blood that was now covering my entire right forearm and running into my glove.<span style=""> </span>I was more concerned with the front wheel of my bike as it now resembled something you would order at Taco-Bell.<span style=""> </span>We were a mile and a half into a four mile loop and this puppy wasn’t rolling anywhere.<span style=""> </span>I was not happy that I wouldn’t be able to finish the ride.<span style=""> </span>Josh informed me that the fact that first-aid was of no concern to me at this point meant that I was going to be a real mountain biker.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We briefly discussed our options at this point.<span style=""> </span>I told Josh to go on around the loop and finish his ride while I toted my mangled mess back the way we came.<span style=""> </span>After a little urging he agreed and we set off in opposite directions.<span style=""> </span>Josh was now free to cut loose and fly while I was grounded, pushing my bike on the back wheel.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was more than a little disappointed about being on foot and with every step I moved farther away from disappointment and closer to anger.<span style=""> </span>It only took about 100 yards to reach totally ticked off!<span style=""> </span>I figured since I rode this hunk of metal in, I was going to ride it out. I threw the bike on the ground, lined up on the front tire and stomped!<span style=""> </span>I repeated the process until the front wheel was straight enough t0 clear the fork as it rolled, unhooked the front brake so it wouldn’t rub and climbed on.<span style=""> </span>The ride wasn’t exactly smooth, but it was still a ride and that’s what I came out here for.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next problem I faced was that I was now going the wrong way on a one-way trail.<span style=""> </span>In the distance I could see the paved road that lead back to the park entrance.<span style=""> </span>I shouldered my bike and danced through the cactus and rocks until I reached the pavement, jumped back on and cranked the pedals.<span style=""> </span>You should have seen Josh’s face when I rolled back into the parking lot bleeding, tires wobbling but in the saddle! </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We loaded up and headed for home, a little worse for the wear, but happy.<span style=""> </span>I don’t think I stopped talking the whole time, reliving the experience in slow motion and trying to learn from it. When we pulled up to the house, I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but Josh had the situation well in hand.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As we came through the door he spoke up, “We didn’t go riding. We got tattoos instead! Bob’s looks a lot like a cut!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With that I proudly raised my arm to show of the mark pride I had acquired.<span style=""> </span>Debi was not happy… “ WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Josh protested, “I <i>knew</i> she was going to blame me for this!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a round of story telling and a shower to remove the gravel from under my skin, all was forgiven.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s been more than a year since that fateful day and a lot has happened in that time.<span style=""> </span>I completed the MS150 ride for the first time in 6 years, lost 50 pounds and bought a new full suspension mountain bike. With that first crash on that first trail, I was sold.<span style=""> </span>I knew I would be doing this for a long time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The other thing that this experience has taught me is that bikes aren’t just for kids. They are for making you feel like a kid again. Growing old is inevitable, but growing up is optional.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>UglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6953508217839046313.post-21247986542239238222008-04-26T21:49:00.000-07:002008-04-26T21:57:36.530-07:00A lot of people have been telling me I need to start blogging, so... time to take the plunge! I've been writing essays based on my cycling experience for several years now, so that's a great place to start. In the next few days I will start posting some of my older stories; the new ones will come as I get properly inspired.<br /><br />UBUglyBobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15689155504296226068noreply@blogger.com0