Just barely got this one in

Before the rain . . .

Do they think I am going to argue with a logging truck?
I think not!

Nothing like skinny tires (or tyres if you are in the UK) on ice.  Kinda fun . . .

The long, straight road, from the other side:

The crest of a 45mph gravel downhill in the summer.  I always wondered what it would be like in the winter, covered with ice.

Not exactly possible to take a photo while eating a power bar going downhill on ice.  You'll just have to imagine how much fun it was.  Everyone should give it a go.

Sign sign everywhere a sign
Do this Don't do that
Can't you read the sign

Tuesday and Wednesday were great days on the bike

6, but not 7

I learned today that although I can ride the rollers for six seconds with my eyes closed while listening to "Aqualung," I can not for seven seconds without sliding not so gently off the right side.  It is not clear what the outcome would be if listening to "Killing me Softly With His Song."

Since this is a post about having ones eyes closed, I think I am entitled to use a photo of Sophia Loren . . .


Perhaps if I keep my mind on business, I won't fall off?"

Reduction

While my former riding companions have been training feverishly for

  TUSCOBIA and other epic events

 the Ghost bike and I have been reduced to

riding the rollers 

Not as famous as MARK

OK, so maybe we are not as famous as MARK
We still had a great time on Sunday.

O2 and I managed to get in six hours of real "wheels goin' round and round" time.  Only fell once, seems like quite an accomplishment on icy roads.Billy gets the nod for "best disguised rider."
Who would have thought this masked
man is a red head?
oh yeah:
Ride Your Bike

I thought I was alone

on Thanksgiving . . .

It was a spectacular morning.

Up and over Hawk Ridge, wondering

why no one else was out and about.

Up Maxwell to the "fruit roads," when . . suddenly . . . fresh Pugsley tracks . . It could be one of many.  Lost the tracks back on Maxwell.  Up to Strand, over to the Lester River Rd, to Beyer, Evan and Wahl. On Lakewood Jct, the mysterious tracks once again . . .

Fast forward 24 hours . . . still riding alone, 15 miles from the warmth and safety and security of home, I stopped to snap this photo.  I noticed a few loose spokes.  

                    

Loose spokes and puncture, nothing like a little cold fingered bike repair in the woods.

Fast forward another 24 hours.

Does anyone know where this is?



It's Hwy 61, never hear of Arthur Rohweder before.  Neither had I.

My final misadventure of the four day Thanksgiving weekend: I guess the

road to Brighton Beach was just a bit more ice than I anticipated!  Slid about 15 feet on glaze ice that was so slick and clean I did not even get my jacket dirty.

a Very Special Thanks . . .

I'd like to extend a Very Special Thanks to the driver of the silver SUV, who at 2:15 this afternoon while East bound on the North Shore Scenic Drive chose to place his right rear wheel in just the proper position and accelerate at just the right second to send enough salt laden slush onto me to nearly knock me off the road.  I'd also like to thank him for completely covering my glasses in said slush, for saturating my clothing and for filling my mouth full of especially tasty salty snow (yum).  In his defense it should be noted there were no other cars anywhere to be seen and I was as far to the right as I could safely be.  Again, a Very Special Thank You.

I had to remind myself of this:

Confessions of a reformed car chaser

(Thanks Almanzo)

Other than that . . . Dave and I had a great ride!

I was a bit surprised that nearly the entire road was still snow covered.  Perfect fun on ice!

I think there may be just a bit of bike maintenance in my immediate future.

Already can't wait until tomorrow!

Flair for the dramatic

Due to the unusual recent weather, and the lack of compatriots willing to ride in the rain, wind, ice, cold and snow  . . . I have been reduced to . . . (audible gasp) . . . running . .  with our dog Hazel.

Keeping with my usual flair for the dramatic . . . 

Thank heavens for those titanium bones; enough said . . . 

Maybe tomorrow will be back on the bike

Take time to read this:



Confessions of a reformed car chaser

Taps

Double Tap

No Tap

Idiot

That was FUN!

Upon learning that the mysterious "riders of the dark" were moving, my decision was made.  Ride I must.  Plan was to ride Orange.  She'd been sitting patiently waiting for her time of renewal and glory

Four revolutions from home,

"ker thunk . .  ."  That didn't feel right.  I jumped off for a quick look, only to find

a self-destructed rear hub.

Would BLONDIE be up to the task?

I quickly saddled up, pointed Blondie downhill wondering "would anyone else 

(save the riders of the dark) be silly enough

 to venture out,

or would I be alone . .  

Much to my joy, amusement and bemusement I was not to be alone!

Tim and  I headed bravely into the gale force winds along the shore of the greatest of lakes, moving at times as fast as 12 mph, often we were reduced to  8 -  9 mph as we struggled to stay upright.

When we reached the end of the pavement near Two Harbors, Tim turned to head to the Mocha Moose, while I ventured alone up the gravel ahead.

don't laugh . . . it's the 1st time I have used the self timer

Apparently I appeared a bit worse for wear when I returned to the Moose (or so said the customers).

Why is his coffee bigger than mine?

After a few well earned calories, it was back on the road again.

Leaving Tim at home, I continued on for a while longer, logging nearly four hours, while perhaps not up to the standards of the "riders of the dark," an effort nonetheless.

Which left me with four hours of bike repair and maintenance, and 12 ounces of water in each boot.

ORANGE repaired 

 ready to roll

I'm not the only one

Someone in Copenhagen is "Riding Orange . . . "

Sometimes it's just nice to go for a bike ride . . . some pavement, some gravel 

 flats and hills, wind and calm

Just a bike ride . . . 

October Juxtaposition

Somehow I find it funny.  Same day, same ride.

Bike in flowers, Bike in snow . . . October?

Now that my friends have moved on to such silly things

as running up hills with 60lb bags of sand

total house rebuilds

and riding Mountain bikes

They're missing some great early morning rides

Blondie on the Fox

Most of you know I have spent most of my summer riding Orange 

or the Ghost Bike and of course Blondie on the road.

Our adventures can be found at Duluth Road Cyclists

It was nice to be back riding Blondie on the gravel

not having to worry about touching someones wheel (oops!)

It was a bit colder than expected . . . The Mocha Moose came to the rescue

Somehow . . . I had a tail wind both ways

(actual unretouched photo)

From now on, it's back to the "MisAdventures of Rich Hendricks"

Good Luck to Jason and Jeremy tomorrow

Ghost Rider

The GHOST BIKE RIDES

(you try taking a photo of a Ghost)

To those concerned about ORANGE

She if fine . . . She is however, FRENCH

which implies temperamental and difficulty finding parts

The Ghost Bike is circa 1978:

 Ishiwata double-butted chrome moly tube set

fully sloping crown (I love those!)

Malliard 700 pro hubs, Rigida rims, 36 spoke count

Specialized 27X1 folding tire (both new, from 1980!)

and of course . . . a single speed

the GHOST BIKE

I'm really proud of her . . .

She saw a fork in the road. . .  

so she took it . . .  

First a little history.  As some of you know, my daughter is a student at a couple of institutions of higher learning.                          

It is now clear to me that such an education does not necessarily imbibe one with a great deal of "common sense."  In 90 degree heat, she announced she wished to go for a bike ride with he dad.  Not wishing to appear wimp like, of course I agreed and off we went . . . hoping it would be somewhat cooler by the shore.  

As others of you know, and are painfully aware . . . During a surgery a couple of years ago I forgot to ask the surgeon to install the "optional fluid retention device" for which I have long lusted.   (Admittedly this does have its advantages.  For instance, when I am tired I can simply announce "I need to stop for a moment" ) 

Tired I was . . . time to stop . . . Of course I assumed my loving daughter would stop and wait for me . . .  no . . . just like one of the guys she left me . . .

No worries I thought . . . I'll catch up to her . . .

All was on plan until she disappeared . . .

FINALLY, THE POINT OF THE STORY

Out of nowhere, without provocation or suggestion

SHE TURNED DOWN A GRAVEL ROAD

It must be genetic

That's right . . . we rode gravel.  Me on my gravel rig with 32mm tires

Lauren on her road bike with 23mm tires . . .

That serves as a warning to everyone . . .  there is no reason

you can't ride these roads with the bikes you have

Look at that smile . . .

That's what riding gravel is all about

I hope to see you all riding gravel soon

I'll miss her when she returns to college this week.