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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This is a really nice post, with the familiarity of a number of smells associated with cycling over the years.
There is a palpable sense of achievement and relief when you ride far enough out of a built up urban area that you can detect the change in air quality - I'd plan rides to get as far out of town as efficiently as possible so I could spend most of the ride breathing fresh air (and, unavoidably, the smell of cowshit) before heading back.
The smell of new tires, also is something I find quite exciting - probably because I will bang on some new tires before an important race, or a ride I'd been looking forward to.
And on bike shops, the best ones are the small, crowded ones that require rummaging and trying to impress grumpy old bastards. An increasing number of bike shops are large, airy, designed by advertisers and product managers in completely lifeless barns.
@RedRanger Yikes! I rode with a guy who was deaf in his right ear, (had shit balance and would write off two frames a year or so) but the really dodgy bit was riding in a paceline with him - if he was on the inside he couldn't hear what you were saying so he insisted on riding on the outer traffic side. Thing was then he couldn't hear traffic coming - and if you were having a chat in the paceline he'd turn his head toward you to hear better. A number of times trucks would whistle past him millimetres away from his shoulder without him noticing was quite scary.
@minion Of all the senses to not have smell is the easiest to work around. I mean I can still taste things. its more of an occupational hazard for the field I am working to getting into.
@Nate
Was it Yellow? I had one of those as my first bike too. No training wheels in those days, dad put me on it, pushed me down the low grade hill in our trailer park (yep those were the poor white trash days), and I didn't know how to brake, or steer. Straight off the road into a fallen pine tree.
Been riding and crashing ever since.
@RedRanger interesting! It's cool you can taste, many people with anosmia cannot. Although, if I couldn't taste, it'd be helpful for my climbing weight.
Thanks for the post Snoov, pretty amazing what our senses can remind us of.
I always associate the smell of the bike with trees. In New Hampshire everywhere you ride is through trees, So if it seems I end up thinking of different parts of different rides by their tree scent. One of my favorites is a bridge over a river near home the pops you out of the trees for a moment and raises you above everything. The river below is easily 50 feet down. Yet here cleared of the tree walls that usually surround, it always smell even more clearly of fresh pine. It wraps around me so thickly that I often stop thinking completely and just soak in it involuntary. Tree love is just a hazard of living in NH as a USDA study last month announced NH is the most forested state (by percentage, not acres, we're too small for that) at 88.9% of the state is forested. I know that's not the bike itself, but it's what I always think of.
@scaler911
I miss coaster brakes. Mine was metallic pine green. It probably weighed more than my entire current stable of 3 road bikes put together.
@RedRanger
We have a local climb called Pig Farm. Once upon a time there was, yes, a pig farm on top. Must have been diabolical -- it's a climb that just gets steeper and steeper, ending in a 14% wall, with the farm on top. Can only imagine what it must have smelled like up there on a hot day.
After giving the steed a thorough clean the night before a long morning ride, the smell of WD-40 and grease stays on your hands all night. Each time you catch a whiff, the smell reminds you of the joy that is coming the next day of a beautifully smooth ride.
So many memories....
There was a shop in Blackburn ,Victoria, Australia run by a grumpy old man, was early in my cycling that I frequented it. Was full of crap but a wonderful place.
One of the things I loved was that he sold bikes, guns, ammo and darts. What more do you need?
Sadly he is no longer with us and a redevelopment has replaced the old shop.