So I think I'm being all smart and clever when I sign up for a $25 bike ride. I needed to get a last long training ride in, and I really don’t like riding long distances alone, on an unsupported route. I'm old enough to be paranoid about getting hit by a car out in the middle of nowhere, and lying for who knows how long in a ditch next to some cornfield before any help arrives. For this reason, recreational supported bike rides are very appealing. They aren’t races so you go at your own pace, there’re food and drink stops on the course (so you don’t have to drag along food and worry about having enough fuel to finish), they’re conducive to riding with friends, and the best part: there are usually plenty of SAG vehicles roaming the course, looking to help anyone who might be in trouble. The feeling of security is complete.
A friend, Lisa, told me about this one, put on by a cycle club in a city about 50 minutes from home. She also needed to get a last 100-mile ride in. Neither of us was interested in trying to go fast; we just wanted to cover the distance and spend the time in the saddle. We both wanted a riding companion and they were only charging $25, so this was perfect. Let’s do it!
We were a little later getting going than we had hoped, but finally got on our way and had a very enjoyable morning. A third companion, Mary, rode with us for the first part of the day, then went her own way after about 35 miles. We took our time, pushed each other just enough to do some work, and took advantage of all the food/drink stations. The day passed uneventfully, and the tedium of almost 8 hours of riding was greatly relieved by the company. The ride was on Indiana country roads with little automobile traffic, so we could ride long stretches side-by-side and chat, a welcome break from most long-distance riding.
All was well until mile 97.5. We had been coming down a nice long descent for the last couple of miles, and it had just started to flatten out a little. Both of us were very ready to be done and back at the car. Lisa was perhaps 20 yards ahead of me, and no one else was within sight (riders were spread out by this point). We were just starting to pedal again, after enjoying the restful coast down the hill.
By the time I saw it, it was too late. Lisa had seen it, but hadn’t had enough reaction time to warn me about it. She passed closely, but avoided it.
A giant, rusted bolt lying directly in our path.
By the time I saw it, I had enough time to stop pedaling and start feathering my brakes, while running directly over it. It was perpendicular to my front wheel, so I was hopeful that I’d just roll over it, or worst-case scenario, get a flat. When I heard the explosive blow-out, I wasn’t surprised. “Oh great, a flat, but at least I’m almost home. No worries.” But it did feel strange, and I immediately unclipped one foot and started getting the other unclipped, while continuing to brake. The last time something like this happened (June 2013), I had a heck of a time staying upright, so was prepared to have to struggle again.
Surprisingly, there was no swerving, I just skidded to a stop on the rim of the wheel. Hooray!
Meanwhile Lisa, who was ahead of me and heard all this going on, was yelling back at me to make sure I was ok. She figured that since she didn’t hear any swearing or crashing sounds that I must be alright. I yelled back that I was fine, just had a flat. But it HAD sounded like a massive blowout. She thought both tires had blown, it was so loud. She turned around and came back while I climbed off the bike and moved to the side of the road. We were both astounded by what we saw.
We were even more astounded when I tried to pull the bolt out – it didn’t budge. Oh my. It was embedded so deeply into my wheel (the rim, not the tire), that as the wheel came around, the bolt slammed into my brake assembly and stopped the wheel cold. No wonder I was skidding! Since we were so close to the car and I was obviously fine, she went on ahead while I waited. In the short time it took her to get ready to come fetch me, two SAG vehicles stopped. Everyone got out, oohed and ahh’d at it, then got me and the bike loaded up and took me back. Back at the ride’s start/end, there was another ogling session, as anyone who saw it immediately called other people over to look. There was universal agreement that I was incredibly lucky. No argument there.
On the way home, I started mentally preparing myself for the repair bill. The bike shop was suitably impressed, and asked if they could keep the bolt for their collection of road hazards. After they pulled it out, I felt even more lucky. If that thing had hit ANYTHING besides my tire, it could have been very, very ugly. If it had hit my leg, it would have been catastrophic, with many many months of recovery. Scary stuff.
As I had feared, the wheel was ruined for road riding. The bolt had punched a good hole in it, dangerously compromising its structural integrity. Sigh. Wheels come in sets, so while I could have simply replaced the rear one, the darned things are priced in sets and I may as well upgrade while I’m at it. The impaled wheel was fine for use on an indoor trainer, so I put a trainer tire on it and kept it. Since I’m relocating to Seattle in a few months, where all riding is hill riding (very much unlike Indianapolis), I replaced the cassette with one that’s intended for climbing, with more gears. A pittance compared to the wheels. The brake assembly was questionable: when the bolt came around and slammed into it, it bent the piece holding the entire thing together. Ok for non-sudden stops, but not ok if I really needed it. Add new brakes to the list (of course those come in sets as well).
I’ve since ridden a handful times on the new wheels/gears, and am very happy with them. The wheels are lighter, more nimble and responsive, and the gearing makes Indiana rollers a piece of cake. Seattle will be an entirely new class of hills to conquer, but at least I’m well equipped now.
And I’ve already used the trainer wheel on the other bike, when I was too lazy to change a tire at 5:30 in the morning.
Total bill: $1140 Cost of walking away unscathed, albeit with a thinner wallet: Priceless
No comments:
Post a Comment