Goodbye?

It’s time.  My Specialized Camber FSR 29″ has been a great first serious mountain bike, but its size medium frame has always been a little too small for my 6’1″ body.  I am still hedging a bit, but I listed it for sale this past Saturday, with links to the Craigslist ad posted on several mountain bike group sites, as well as FB Marketplace.

I picked up the bike from the shop last Friday afternoon, paid them $200 to assemble the components from the old frame to the warranty replacement frame.  The bike now has a new medium frame, new drive train (cassette, chain, chainrings, rear derailleur), new handlebar grips, seat, and tires that were new last August.  The shocks have been serviced and rebuilt, as has the bottom bracket.

If the bike fit me, I would keep it.  It’s ready for the season and it looks very good.  The picture was taken last Saturday morning, before I washed up the tires for the listing.  I love the bike and just spent a little over $450 to get it ready to ride.  Instead, I am crossing my fingers that someone will buy it for close to the $1500 asking price (my basement price is $1000).  The money I get will go towards the purchase of a new bike that will fit me.

Someone offered me $750 last night, told me that a bike blue book website says it is only worth close to $800 in good condition.  I told him I would take $1200 since the site doesn’t take into account a new frame and components that were upgraded to Rockshox and SRAM GX from the Suntour suspension and low end Shimano shifting components the website used to calculate the value.  $1200 is a very fair price for this bicycle, as is the $1500 asking price.  There are also two people coming by to look at the bike tonight.  I am not going to give the bike away and will simply keep it if I don’t get the price that I want.

1977

Outside the large storefront windows of the Panera I am sitting in right now, the snow is swirling steadily, a mid-April storm that is bringing a wetted white to the landscape.  Not one to groan too much about the weather, unless it is weather that interrupts my mountain biking for too long, I am enjoying the contrasting beauty of the winter whiteness mingling with the early Spring greens.  Here in northern Illinois, the buds are just beginning to appear, the grass pushing up and promising the warmer weather to come.  Today will be a day to relax in the way God intends, his creation observed from the warmth indoors as well as venturing outside to experience it firsthand.

A friend just texted me to lament the snow, her anxiety rising as she observed the large flakes surging past her window, all from the comforting warmth of her covers.  Stay in bed for a while, I encouraged her.  I couldn’t help but share with her how much I love these Spring snow storms.

My mind can’t help but go back to this time in 1977, the year of the huge Easter snow and ice storm that brought central Illinois to a two week halt.  I don’t remember exactly when the storm hit, just that it was shortly before Easter Sunday.  Thick layers of ice coated trees, yards, roads, power lines… everything, so much that we didn’t have power for nearly two weeks.  Travel was treacherous, not impossible, but only attempted when necessary.  No power also meant no heat in the house, the little bi level house my family lived in quite cold with the unusual weather.  We didn’t have a fireplace, so my parents cautiously heated our home with the gas kitchen stove in the evenings, and a Coleman camp heater in our living room when it got really cold.  My family huddled around the heater by candlelight, telling stories and singing while Mom played the piano.  We didn’t miss the TV too much, rather enjoyed the time without it.

Easter Sunday was special that year.  I remember going to church that morning, the church full despite the challenge to travel there (my family walked to church — or rather we half walked, half skated/slid).  Families huddled together in the wooden pews to keep warm, the church auditorium candle lit, the atmosphere warm with the quiet that comes when there is no amplification or organ music.  Mom played the piano enthusiastically as the congregation sang, the mood worshipful in a way that was special to the moment, people coming together and the stress melting away even as the ice was freezing outside.  I remember watching the fog in the air as everyone sang.  The scent of bacon and pancakes and eggs drifted up from the church basement as the church elders and deacons cooked the annual Easter sunrise breakfast.  Even an ice storm with a power outage could not prevent the annual breakfast from happening.  By the time the Easter sunrise service was over, my stomach was growling from hunger, the tempting smells drawing my thoughts away.

Somehow mom managed to get a nice ham with the fixings for our Easter meal.  We gathered around the table, snug in our coats, as we ate our meal.  The sun came out that day, the storm over, illuminating the bright landscape made even brighter by the ice.

1977 was my sophomore year of high school.  Our school Spring break was extended a week by the power outage and ice.  Even though my friends and I reveled outside during the break, I was anxious about going back to school.  The unplanned school closing meant that the first two track meets of the season would be cancelled, something I was looking forward to.  My freshman year had been a successful running season, a confidence booster as I established myself running the middle distances.  I was hoping my success from my freshman year would carry into my sophomore year.  I was itching to run the entire week.  Instead, my friends and I found ways to have fun on the ice.  We skated in our backyards and on the street, played broom hockey.  One afternoon, we tied a long rope to a metal disc sled and took turns whipping each other around in circles on the street in front of my house.  There was one problem — we swung one guy too close to a car and the rope broke just before the car, shooting him underneath the car.  His mother wasn’t too happy with us, especially when she had to take him to the hospital for x-rays on his (broken) arm!

Once the weather broke, the temperatures rewarded us with beautiful days.  Power was restored.  The ice was replaced by wonderful green.

The view from my living room yesterday.  Lovely!

The storm of 2019 was mild compared to that 1977 ice storm.  It was wet, with lots of pretty snow.  Of course, I wouldn’t have minded missing a day or two of work….

Flow

Tuesday night was one of the best evenings yet this year.  I visited SWK for a single track ride, the chance to ride in shorts and tee shirt on trails in pristine condition something I just could not pass up.  Weather for the next few days was not predicted to be dry or favorable.  What greeted me when I arrived for my ride was a packed parking lot, with one empty spot next to where my friends Greg and Carrie were parked.  I saw other vehicles I recognized.  It was near certain that I would encounter friends somewhere along the ride, would not be riding alone.

Sure enough, a few minutes in, I came up on a group of 8 friends, all regulars and a few I have not seen since last November.  We were all pumped to be riding together again, on such a perfect evening for a ride.  Perhaps adding to my enjoyment as I joined them was the feeling that I am faster right now, a combo of the added strength from riding the fat bike since last January as well as a lighter body and carbon bike.  I am flying, maybe a little more confident.  During the course of the ride, only the leader was in front of me, and many riders waved me to the front as we entered a trail.  It was a good feeling, one I haven’t had for a while.  Oh, I have had my moments prior to now, but not like it is right now.

My friend is NOT going to get his full carbon Superfly back!  I wish I could keep it.  The speed is an awesome feeling, although with the added speed and ability to clear berms is a difference in handling.  Faster means I need to react quicker to an upcoming obstacle or tight turn, dig in a bit more.  As I get used to the bike, I am beginning to learn how to handle it.  I have yet to find a flow, something that I will need to ride with the faster riders (which may or may not happen), stay off of the brakes and let the bike go.  I had to be conscious of letting the bike slow before a descent and only feathering the brakes on the way down, if at all.

The ride ended in the parking lot with a bunch of us gathered in our chairs behind a friend’s truck, enjoying the stories from our ride well after the sun had gone down.  It was indeed a sublime, energizing evening.

I love to ride.  Have I ever said that?  🙂

 

Sunny and Single Track

In my world, every Saturday, every weekend, should have the same forecast — sunny and single track.  I am nearly 58 years old, yet nothing brings out the boy in me more than days like yesterday.  Even yet this morning, I am still energized, still buoyed by the ride.  It was one of those days where the plan went right, even when there were hiccups.

Sun greeted me as I pulled back the drapes and opened the bedroom blinds, as is my routine.  Prior to bed, the furnace had been turned off, the sliding glass doors in the living room and kitchen pulled open enough to let the fresh cool air fill the space in my small home.  There is a simple pleasure to pulling back the warm covers to be greeted by the coolness of a fresh morning, the warmth of the bed still with me as I pull a shirt over my head, shuffle to the kitchen and put the water on the stove to boil.  More often than not, I listen to some quiet music at the kitchen table while the honey sweetened oatmeal soothes me.  I checked the weather from my phone to confirm the day’s weather would be as promised — cool in the morning, 70 degree temperatures by the afternoon.  Satisfied, I determined my plan for the day would be to wait until the afternoon to ride, when I could ride in shorts and tee shirt, the damp from the previous days’ rain gone from the trails.

It was glorious.  In the morning, I performed the needed tasks and chores for my weekend, drove my son to work (he no longer has a car), then hit the trails.  My friend, Jim, has loaned me one of his two full carbon Trek Superfly mountain bikes to ride while I wait for a replacement.  I had picked up his soft tail bike a few days earlier, found it needed a few tweaks to be fully rideable — clean up the pads and rotors (the geese would have been following me through the woods), refresh the charge in the rear shock, adjust seat height.  The bike is indeed full carbon, including the wheels, so it’s a light ride.  I was glad for a chance to ride the first few miles of trail by myself, since I had to get used to handling a faster and lighter bike.  When I met my friends Greg and Ernesto on one of the trails, I was ready to go.  While it still took some effort to keep up, I did keep up, even cleared the most technical trail without a single dab, something I have only been able to accomplish once on my heavier aluminum Camber.  I witnessed Greg ride off the side of the trail to avoid some hikers, miraculously avoiding a fall down the side of a berm into the swampy waters.  He was not feeling well the rest of our ride.

I did visit the bike shop in the morning, as I had only talked to them over the phone prior to yesterday.  I wanted some more information on the frame replacement for my Specialized Camber FSR.  They really hadn’t given me much information at all, have not told me what is going to be involved.  When I brought my bike in to ask about the warranty, I had removed the chain and had installed a few new drive train components, so I wanted to know what was going to be reused.  I also wanted to know if they would be installing the new cassette and chain that I had.  They didn’t really know much at all, so I left them the new cassette and chain, assuming that the replacement frame was going to be frame only (I assume that is the case).  I asked them once again to consider asking Specialized to send a large frame instead of a medium, a request that was instantly rejected.  I didn’t fight and told them I wouldn’t fight them, but did ask them if it would be better if their customer was 100% satisfied instead of feeling placated.  The response was a weak grin, as if I was being a jerk for asking.  I don’t feel like a jerk for asking.  I work for the factory, know it can be uncomfortable asking them for a little more, but also know it’s more important to make sure a customer is satisfied with the outcome than to simply do the least.  That’s the sure way to lose a customer.  Do I think I will go elsewhere?  Not likely, but I sure would like to see my shop try to do a little more for me.

It was still a sunny day.  It was a wonderful ride, the pleasant burn of fatigue in my legs a welcome reminder of an effort that was never an effort.  When I got home, I showered, ran an errand, then enjoyed a pleasant dinner with a pretty neighbor who is becoming a nice friend.  I walked her to her front door after dinner, early, then hit the sack around 10 PM.  This was an early morning, since I took that neighbor friend to the airport at 5 this morning.

Enjoy your day.  May your day be sunny and single track!

Bittersweet

My Specialized Camber FSR, last year.

The ride was a fun jaunt , a blessing as it was a beautiful day to ride with good trail conditions, something we don’t get much of in late December here in northern Illinois.  I was riding with Greg and Ernesto, two talented riders and friends.  They had been joking about how I don’t shift — my preference is to muscle over the tough stuff.  It slows me down.  Greg especially likes to bust my chops, his way of teaching me a few things about riding a mountain bike.  The guy is very good on a bike and each time I ride with him, my skills improve as he shows me something else to help me out.  During the ride, I was intentionally shifting before hitting a steep section or roots.  The shifting didn’t seem quite right.

We were about done with our ride, riding a semi technical trail called Wildcat on our way back to the parking lot.  I shifted to an easier gear to get up and over a large root, a frightful clunk from my rear derailleur as I pushed to get over the root.  I braked immediately and hoped that the derailleur hadn’t been bent or sucked into the rear spokes.  Nothing of that sort had happened, but the chain had slipped over the rear cassette (the gear cluster).  I pulled the chain out and back in place, but noticed that the derailleur wasn’t aligned right.  Sure enough, I climbed back on the bike and turned the pedals, only to have the chain slip over the rear cogs again.  I had no choice but to heft the Camber over my shoulder and tote it back the short walk to the parking lot.

My friends looked my bike over, were puzzled over the position of the derailleur.  It wasn’t bent nor did the hanger look bent, but it was clearly positioned too far inward, almost in the spokes.  Normally, I would have dropped the bike off at the shop on the way home, but I was severely cash strapped at the time and my credit card was screaming from a recent expensive repair (as I am accustomed to) on my VW.  The mountain bike would have to wait until I could give it attention or I had the money to have the shop repair it.  My gut told me that it was real possible this was going to be bad.

January came with new snow and the fat bike purchase, a deal so good I could not pass it up.  While my friend sold me that bike with the understanding that I would pay him as I could, it meant that extra money would go towards that bike and not towards fixing my Specialized Camber FSR mountain bike.  I rode the fat bike with the idea I would replace the shifting components on my mountain bike in time for Spring single track.  That is what I did.  I ordered new 36T chain ring (it’s a 2 x 10 set up), chain, cassette, SRAM GX medium cage derailleur, derailleur hanger.  The chain ring was replaced first, bottom bracket cleaned and inspected.  I installed the new derailleur hanger, then the derailleur.

The new derailleur wouldn’t align, hung the same way the old one had the day the bike broke down.  Uh oh.  I set the bike aside.  When my friend, Jeremy, came over last Saturday for a ride, he took a look at the bike… and saw the issue immediately.  Jeremy is a good wrench, an experienced bike mechanic.  The frame on my Specialized was cracked at the chainstay, twisted enough so that the derailleur would not align.  I took my bike to the shop that afternoon (two weeks ago), hoping that the lifetime frame warranty that the manufacturer advertises would be honored.  I needed it to be.  I can’t afford to have it fixed right now, or worse need to buy a new bike.  Recent news of a $4000 federal tax debt, coupled with upcoming property taxes and other expenses have me financially challenged.  I don’t need another debt.

The shop manager didn’t paint a rosy picture when he looked at my bike.  He inspected it to see if a frame pivot bearing had seized and had caused the frame to stress.  The bearing wasn’t seized, but he prepared me for possible bad news from the manufacturer.  They may not honor the warranty.

No news from the shop on Monday.  I waited until late Tuesday afternoon, then called the shop.  They told me the warranty claim had been submitted.  The Specialized rep had not responded on the warranty claim yet.  I was worried.  My bike model has been discontinued, so frame parts may not be available.  Would they replace the entire frame?

I received an email from the shop yesterday afternoon, with news that the frame section could not be replaced, as I had expected.  Specialized had to send a whole new frame as a warranty replacement.  I would be responsible to pay $200 for the labor to put the bike together.

 

This was a pic taken not too long after I bought my Camber.  The small fit should be obvious.

Good news!  There was one concern, however.  I wished the shop had called to get my OK.  Why?  My bike is a medium frame, has always been too small for my 6’1″ body.  When I bought the bike, I was too excited to finally have my first new bicycle, my first new “expensive” bicycle.  It was my baby, the bike I had waited decades to be able to buy.  Even though it felt too small from the first day I rode it, I didn’t take it back because I was too much of a weenie to wait (or have to pay more money) to get a large frame.  So, when I received the email from the shop yesterday about the replacement frame, I immediately replied and asked if the replacement frame could be a large instead of medium.

When I didn’t get a reply back, I called.  The shop told me that Specialized would not give me a large frame.  It had to be the same size as the frame it was replacing.

*Sigh*

Rather than make a stink, I thanked them and ended the call.  I am disappointed.  Instead of feeling 100% satisfied, I am feeling a little disrespected.  At the moment, I feel like I just had my hand slapped for making the request, like I was asking too much of them.  I shouldn’t feel that way.  Why not try to make me 100% satisfied?  I am a loyal customer and one who will eventually buy more bikes — but I am not feeling so good right now, when I should be ecstatic.  Instead, it’s a let down.  I am contemplating selling the replacement bike as soon as I get it (hopefully, next week), use the money from the sale to buy a bike I will be happier with.  One that fits me and allows me to fully enjoy my rides.  I don’t like the idea of making payments on another bike right now, as it will stretch my budget beyond what I am comfortable with.  Heck, I don’t even have the $200 for the labor charge I am going to have to pay!

I have needed to replace my Camber due to the fit problem.  The seat tube has to be extended so far that it often falls during the course of a ride, taxing my knees and affecting performance.  Maybe this is the push I needed to get my cheap butt out to buy a new bike, despite whether I can afford it or not.  Specialized is fantastic, but there are other manufacturers out there who will want my business.  We shall see.  Santa Cruz, maybe?  Salsa?  Trek?  Pivot?  Ibis?

Go Away, Mister Lazy

Couches are a tool of the devil.  Rain clouds sometimes blow away without unleashing their wetness upon the landscape.  Spandex is useful even when worn under cargo shorts and a long sleeved tee, yet you can’t cover up dorky.  Cloudy fatigue more often than not is transformed to clear energy when fun exercise is applied.  Life has a  darker grey side and a bright side — and the bright side is always there if you look for it.

There you have it, my words of wisdom and elderly knowledge, relearned or reapplied yesterday evening.  I arrived home from work yesterday evening, a bit depressed by the clouds that loomed overhead and the promise of rain to fall.  Earlier in the day, group texts from my mountain biking friends indicated that the trails were in fantastic shape.  My stomach groaned at me, begged me to be fed, even as my brain told me to take a nap.  Even a cruise on the forest preserve paths close by seemed to be a no go, the looming clouds and cloudy fog in my head an indication that laziness was in order for the evening.  I didn’t want that at all.  I could feel a bit of depression sinking in, common sense fighting to take control of the lazy devil on my shoulder, so riding would energize me and turn my mind back to the bright side.

Part of the cloudy outlook comes from waiting for a factory warranty decision on my Specialized Camber FSR mountain bike.  It’s my baby, a prize of sorts, the first and only new bike I have been able to buy in my 30 years of cycling.  When I discovered the cracked frame last Saturday, my heart sunk even with the knowledge of the factory lifetime frame warranty.  It’s a limited warranty, which my shop reminded me of as they inspected my bike and checked the frame pivot bearings for seizure.  They are not seized, but he told me that the factory could claim they had been seized when the frame cracked, voiding the warranty.  I wanted to argue, wanted to ask why an aluminum frame would crack even with a seized bearing, but hard knocks has taught me to keep the arguments to a minimum.  Good will wins more often than an argument.  I called yesterday afternoon to check on the status of the bike, was told that since the shop is closed on Wednesdays there likely wouldn’t be a decision on the bike warranty until Thursday.  It sucks to wait.

On the bright side, a good friend offered to let me borrow his mountain bikes.  He has a hard tail Trek Superfly with carbon frame and wheels, as well as a full suspension carbon Specialized Epic.  The guy is a triathlete, rarely rides his mountain bikes because he follows a training schedule.  He had bought the Superfly when he rode Leadville a few years ago, the Epic just because he had a girlfriend who wanted to ride single track now and then.  I texted him after I pouted on the devil’s tool for a few minutes and observed a few breaks in the clouds.  Go for it, you will be glad you did was what I told myself.  My friend texted me back, encouraged me to take both bikes if I wanted them, gave me the security code to his garage door.

He also asked me to not do anything obnoxious if anyone was looking at his house.  He just listed it for sale.  I am not sure why my friend would be worried about my behavior (wink wink).  I didn’t tell him how I was dressed, as that might have scared potential buyers away as well, spandex ‘capri’ bib shorts underneath ragged old cotton cargo shorts, long sleeved tee underneath a black zip up ski vest.  I told my friend that there indeed had been people looking at his house (a fib) and that I advised them he would knock $10,000 off the price if I could live with them for free.  🙂

I rode the Trek, immediately amazed at how light and responsive the bike felt underneath me.  It took a few minutes to get used to the handling.  The lighter bike was faster, but the tires are set up more for a gravel type of race and not for dirt.  Once I got used to digging into the corners, something I take for granted on my heavier aluminum Camber, I was having a ton of fun.  It doesn’t hurt that my legs are already ready from the past few months of regular riding on my fat tired bike.  My friend, Roy, had arrived at the trailhead at the same time and was riding with me.  Halfway into our ride, he stopped and told me that he was having a hard time keeping up with me.  I had dropped him a few times by then, aware that he was on his third day in a row of riding and was fatigued.  It boosted my mood (and ego) though — normally Roy is the one who is taking it easy for me!

I arrived home, my energy and mood elevated, the grilled chicken and veggies for dinner even more tasty.  The exercise relaxed me so much that I fell asleep texting a friend, who had slipped a bag of peanut butter cookies in my mailbox while I was out riding.

Lessons relearned, old knowledge renewed.  Mister Lazy did not prevail.