But then what ever does?
Since I was staying at Ersquo;s the other night because of the Boy being with My Heart I had grabbed my secondary bike (which I keep at Ersquo;s) to take on my little adventure. I met Stalwart in the morning at the Gateway Fred Meyers and put his bike on the bike rack along with mine. He dropped me off at work with my bike and I took my bike into the office where it sat comfortably Right Next to me all day.
You would have thought that sometime in during that time I would have checked the tire pressure. But nope I didnrsquo;t.
Any how at 3pm I got changed put my hair up grabbed the bike, made sure I had water and headed out the door to well wishes from the office.
Look, its 12 miles to My Heartrsquo;s work from our house I figured, pfft, I can at least bike into West Lynn from Wilsonville no problem.
So off I go. I was huffing almost immediately and down shifted. Its very slightly uphill from my work. Not really anything you should notice really but I felt like I was really dragging. I had a head wind but still not anything strong. I finally looked down and realized my back tire was going flat. Well Crap. I considered going back to the office and using the air hose there to fill it but decided since I was already halfway to the chevron station with the cheap gas, I would use that.
I pedaled on. Jeeze Louise I was still going faster than if I walked the bike so I kept it up. I passed the bus stop for the 96 which goes into down town Portland and decided if the tired wouldnrsquo;t inflate I would just resort to the bus (which I didnrsquo;t want to do). I filled the tire and could feel the difference immediately. Cool
Then I pedaled my butt over the highway and down to Target to pick up another helmet since I had forgotten mine. That accomplished I headed up the hill towards Stafford road. I didnrsquo;t get very far before I realized that A) I was really struggling up the hill and B)my tire seemed to be loosing a bit of air again. At the top of the hill I stopped in the shade of a tree and threw down the bike in disgust. I grabbed my water bottle and sat for a little bit to assess my self.
I checked the time on my phone. It had taken me 45 minutes to go 3 miles. Thatrsquo;s about walking speed. I gave the tire a squeeze. Definitely not as full as at the gas station. I had signal on my cell phone but I knew there was a 3 miles stretch on Stafford road where cell service blinked out. Stafford road is horse country and pretty but it is mostly gently rolling hills. Nothing really higher than I had just climbed but still continuous hills before dropping towards West Lynn then climbing again. I considered the bike, I considered how I felt and said fuck it.
I picked the bike up turned it around, aimed, down the hill and practically coasted back to the bus stop a mile and half away. I waited 5 minutes and the 96 arrived. The bike rack on the front of the bus gave me a few seconds of complaint then fit my bike just fine. I paid my money and settled in.
40 minutes later I was dropped off at the corner of 2nd Ave very near the Hawthorn bridge in downtown Portland. I started across the Hawthorn Bridge and was passed by tons of cyclist leaving downtown on their daily commute. Irsquo;ve been across the Hawthorn tons of times and again this isnrsquo;t a steep bridge. I was having trouble just getting to the crest and then never really built up any steam going down the other side. Realizing there was no riding home like this I called Stalwart. His apartment is less than a mile from the Hawthorn Bridge. He was home with my car. I told him to stay there and headed that direction. It took me a bit but I biked up to Stalwarts apartment by about 5:10 pm.
I put the bike on the bike rack on the back of my car and stumped down to his apartment to rest in the cool air for a few minutes. I explained my adventure to him and when I was leaving he came out and took a look at the bike. When he counted the cogs on the gears we came up with one of the reasons I was getting no love from my bike when headed up hills. My lowest gear is only a 1:1 ration. Not a hill climbing gear set up.
This is what I get for buying a cheap ass Wal-Mart bike for my secondary bike. *sighs*
The bike is actually a good bike but it needs different gearing for Portlandrsquo;s hills. Its fine for up around Ersquo;s which is mostly flat so Irsquo;ll take it back up there Tuesday when I leave again.
Well the Boyrsquo;s father, DumbA$$, had picked up the boy so I headed Home in the car. I related my adventure to My Heart as we had dinner and the love of my life smiled and said shersquo;d really hoped to go for a bike ride that night. I grinned and since I hadnrsquo;t showered off yet told her I was game as long as I was on my Gary Fischer.
We rode around the neighborhood which is hilly, and I had no issues other than being tired from my previous work out.
Frankly, it just comes down to you get what you pay for. The Gary Fischer bike cost me about $500 plus the other doodads I bought like the rack for the back, the head and tail lights and the panier bags. The Schwinn was from Walmart. Nough said.
One of the plusses of all this is that I am now definitely over 100 miles for the year. So no matter what that adventure was worth it
Saturday I plan on riding out to meet My Heart at her work. Thatrsquo;s 12 more miles under my belt. Let see how far I get by the end of the year. It would be wicked cool to see how far I could have gotten in a straight line by then. So far if I had started out at my house and headed south I would be below Salem by now. *grins* I totally rock.
christmas italy tree, christmas italy picture, christmas italy, christmas italian tradition.
This is Andy is in "travel clothes."
Waiting in Springfield for the flight to take off.
Boarding the plane.
Try to tell me this isn't one of the inspiring photos you've ever seen.� The aisle of a plane is brilliant, and if you look closely you can see part of my knee.� 
