What I was expecting.
@snoov moves the topic away from Lance, doping, EPMS, and Berty’s Spanish adventures. Our brains are so crammed with nonsense our childhood memories get jammed deep down into the center. A memory waits to be released and sometimes it’s a remembered smell that floats it up to the surface.
VLVV, Gianni
My front tyre has been losing more air than the rear for a couple of months now. I’d just figured it was the valve as I had clumsily bent the little pin that’s inside while removing the pump before we hit the road. I bent it back and it seemed to be okay. It has always lasted our rides but this evening I decided to strip the tube off and test it in a basin of water. To my surprise there was no air escaping from the valve but there was a tiny hole in the tube so I patched it up and put it back on the bike. It occurs to me now that the low pressure of a tube out of the tyre is nothing compared to my normal 120psi and so if the valve was leaking, this test probably wouldn’t show it. Then I decided to test all the tubes I have lying around and repair any holes so that they’re all ready to go. To be fair I’ve only had two punctures since taking to the roads and one was a classic pinch puncture bumping up the kerb-cut right outside my flat as I arrived home from a ride.
I didn’t find any holes, but when I let the air out of the first tube right in front of my face I took a deep breath of the expelled air. The smell was delicious. It brought back memories of the many punctures I’ve fixed in my time on bikes. It brought back the lesson I learned when my Dad dropped me off at the only skatepark in Scotland and at the time when it was one of the best in Europe. I had an American BMX that I’d begged my parents to order over for my birthday and Christmas which I’d also committed my life savings towards, an SE Racing Quadangle. I had arrived with a puncture which I planned on making good but after pumping it up for the second time and rolling forward … pssss. I was too keen to ride and one of the locals asked if I’d checked the tyre for glass. I hadn’t and found a large piece straight away, once the third puncture was fixed my Dad arrived and it was time to go home, day wasted.
The smell also took me back to when I was still at Primary School (maybe 8 or so) and had gotten my first puncture. I went into the house and told my Mum. She said we’d have to go down to Woolworth’s and get a Puncture Repair Outfit! Now that was exciting, I remember thinking how great it was going to be and tried to imagine what it would look like, what it would consist of and even what colour it would be. The disappointment of not being able to ride my bike had completely disappeared, I was getting a Puncture Repair OUTFIT!!! Not only was I going to be able to fix punctures, I was going to look fantastic while doing it. I hadn’t even begun to imagine what other activities would now be open to me. So, we got in the car. We drove to the shops down near the beach and esplanade. Parked up and walked towards “Woolies”. I can’t help wondering if my Mum had noticed my level of excitement, and maybe questioned that somehow, my expectations were somehow out of wack. I’m pretty sure she noticed the tears though, when she picked up the box and showed it to me. It was about 15 centimetres long (6″) and I just knew that there was no way going to be an overall in there.
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@minion
We used to ride with a deaf guy in the days before SIS. You forget just how much you need a sense of hearing as well as feel make friction gears work. He was always between gears - never enough to skip but enough to make the world's most irritating mechanical rattle.
@all
Thanks. I'm back from Australia and have this awesomeness to come back to (my story on this site). I'm just about to go out for the first ever ride with my VMH on the bike I built for her which has been gathering dust for 6 months. I'll have more time to enjoy the posts and respond later. Hope it's as beautiful a day where you all are today and that you get to go for a ride.
Out where we ride along the back roads there are large palace compounds and walled private areas.
Several of them have camel herds which are allowed to roam around but there are stables, which tend to be at the back near our cycle routes.
If you have never smelled a camel - let alone a whole bunch of camels and camel shit - I advise you not to seek out the experience.
My first bike was bought from the great Bluebird Cycles in Petone, Wellington, and I got given it for my 7th birthday. I remember the Campagnolo and Dunlop smell of Bluebirds very well indeed...almost as well as I remember the smell of the kowhai trees in Tui Road where I first learned to ride that gleaming machine I dubbed "The Red Baron"...
To forestall the inevitable comments, it was a unisex bike, alright? Not a girls bike. And the carrier was there for dubbing my mates and carrying my delivery copies of the Eastbourne Courier. Note also the stripped rear mudguard and chainguard, yet with the cunning front mudguard stopping any splashing with, er, mud.
@the Engine
A Scottish Cogal. Now that would be a treat.
Nice article Snoov. Got me thinking back too many years to the days of Tom Clarks in the High Street. Odd combination of bikes, fishing and darts but mostly bikes. Now that was a unique shop 'atmosphere'. His window display of sun faded bike parts and accessories from the past always fascinated. I wish I'd just bought up bucket loads of bits when he retired and it closed down all those years ago.
The lead photo has only gotten more awesome now that I see a second neighbor...sunning in the backyard! Ha.
My first smell of the bike came in the form of vulcanizing patches that my father would take pride in showing us how it was done. Strike the match and watch the sparkling fizzle followed by the smell of sulphurey smoke and rubber. Good times the 70's!
@JohnB
October - Aberfeldy?
Why don't we figure out where everyone is and then think of somewhere central for a Scottish Cogal?
I'm in Dundee. Aberfeldy would be fine for me, an hour or so by car which would stop me having more than one beer afterwards (I don't really drink though so no problem).
Late breaking news....
Mrs Engine has offered the use of our place in Callander and food. If the numbers creep over, say, three - then we've got places to send people locally that won't beak the bank and will allow the consumption of proper recovery beverages in Callander in a bar that sells Belgian beer (sometimes) - and provided we behave - Mrs Engine will still feed us.
She will also take the piss mercilessly....