Sinkhole

Not sure if any of you heard about the sink hole yesterday, but that right's where the Hockanum Trail is that I've talked about lately. Read more!

The Next Eel?

Last Sunday, Salem & Peter Waite organized a ride off into the hinterland off towards Lake Pocotopaug. It was fun, friendly and ended with a pot luck (and it was quite wet). Maybe that's what the next Eel should be like. Or maybe not. Competitive is cool, too. However, the problem I'm having figuring out to do a competitive Eel is that people may get lost with what I'd to do.

A view from the Keney tennis courts.

I've prattled on about "mountain biking" or at the least the dirt to ride in Hartford and closely adjacent places. It'd be really cool to make a race of it, but like, everyone would get lost or at least they'd be focusing on a map a lot. It'd also be cool to just do a group ride with a pot luck. Which is preferable? What do you think? Is racing actually fun? At the first Eel, it was pretty tough to keep everyone going the right way, thus I rode the first lap with everyone. Even then, I think I recall Josh ending up on the railroad bridge. Also, it's hard to disperse prizes if participants aren't time. Maybe there's another way to judge: ride this route and come back with the coolest photograph or object? Best story?

Another view from the Keney tennis courts

I think you can do like a 30 mile loop. Or, maybe a 50 miler if you head all the way down to the ferry in Rocky Hill. So, does anyone want to do this. Can it be done as race? Does anyone care? Does anyone want to help me? I think there was something cool about the first Eel, I'd like to keep that going.

Crazy maple trees!

West Coasters were able to follow this map, though.

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The Tortoiclist and the Hare

Riding up Main Street in East Hartford today it seemed I had unintentionally engaged in an fabulous race with a transit bus (which I'm pleased to say clearly advertised the new three foot car/bike passing rule). True to the tale, the bus would zip by me, but then tire and need to rest while unloading and loading passengers. The lead changed hands five or six times, but Aesop would be proud: the tortoise won the day, or at least I turned off for the Charter Oak bridge before the bus could retake the lead.

Maybe Hartford Transit should start a promotion like Denny's used to do with their 10 minute breakfasts: "Faster than a bike or it's free!"


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Postcard from Glenwood Canyon in Colorado

Interstate 70 finds a way through the west side of the mighty Rockies via Glenwood Canyon, a beautiful drive many of us have prolly made driving cross country. This time, I noticed the multi-use path along the river and decided to check it out since I had my bike with me. Wow! This thing is a feat of engineering in which the builders really worked hard to preserve trees and the canyon and not just blast though....and it shows! If you ever find yourself driving through here and want a fantastic break, bust out yer bike or walking shoes and go exploring. I think there's about a dozen or so miles of path.
It's super fresh to see the tunnels for cars while gallivanting under the dang road! The road noise varies depending where the trail is in relation to the cars and trucks.


The trail moves from the sides of the Interstate, to under, to next to and all over again as the roads and trails meander through the steep, twisty canyon. Its sometimes awkward and noisy with speeding cars a few meters away, sometimes strangely peaceful and quiet, but always surreal. so very urban in many ways, but in a huge natural canyon.


You usually don't share a path with paddlers carrying boats in Hartford!


But then again, the Hog River doesn't have much great white water to paddle! Not that there aren't some great adventures to be had paddling in Hartford, or for that matter, under Hartford!


There's some artwork along the way including this memorial which was enjoyable and musical

more pics...

I wasn't the only cyclist enjoying watching the paddlers bob up and down through the rapids.


The scenery and break from driving made me quite happy!


so did an avocado after the ride!

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I Heart Wrenching

I have been wrenching on a lot of vehicles lately. A few good friends of mine have had parts fail or wear out on their bikes and cars in the past two weeks, and it seems I have assumed the role of fleet manager/transportation coordinator. For the most part, the bike repairs are the more pleasant to deal with, though with both bikes and cars, a good repair stand (or lift) improves the experience exponentially. At the moment, I have no such stand, so my back is getting sore. If Park Tool or Pedro's would like to send me a repair stand for testing or review, I'll be sure to keep Beat Bike Blog readers well informed about my experience with it.

One recent ongoing project sort of bridges the two worlds: getting a car back up to snuff so that it can be sold for good. The owner is going carless, and will be depending on a pair of older bikes or public transit for transportation. Giving up a reliable Honda for a beater mountain bike and an early 60's 3-speed is a bold move, and one that I applaud. Many or most would consider it crazy, but it makes a lot of sense. The car gets driven rarely and consequently sits around taking up space, insurance payments and property taxes. Who needs it? I removed the starter from her car a few nights ago and pedaled home with that ungainly hunk of metal drooping in my pannier. I switched to a milk crate before heading off to the auto parts store to get a rebuilt one. That looked so ghetto. The guys at Napa were not amused.

My favorite mechanic of any sort is a man named Mike. He ran a Volvo repair shop in rough part of Paterson, New Jersey that appeared abandoned save for the open door and the sound of classical music and gruff obscenities coming from within. Mike was a mad scientist of sorts, crafting bizarre hopped-up hot-rodded 70's and 80's Volvos that looked like crap and blew the doors off of unsuspecting BMWs and Mustangs. He was semi-retired, spending a lot of time on his own projects while picking and choosing customers to actually do repair work for. He was intimidating, spouting engineering terms and army stories peppered with cuss words and vulgarities. He chain-smoked and pounded countless cups of black coffee from the nearby White Castle (I quickly learned there was no better public relations move than showing up with a fresh cup). The shop restroom was like "The worst toilet in Scotland" scene in Trainspotting. Mike did not suffer fools gladly, and his high standard for what constituted a fool meant that he was pretty easy to piss off. I'm still not entirely sure how, but I managed to get on his good side.

I showed up at his shop one day a dozen or so years ago seeking help with my 1979 245 wagon, which had inconveniently developed a cracked cylinder head at the same time my bank account had developed a very low balance. Never one to sugar-coat things, Mike explained that I had navigated my way far up the proverbial fecal creek. After a few moments of contemplation, Mike asked me if I thought I could change a cylinder head. When I replied that I was willing to learn he sold me a rebuilt cylinder head and all of the needed parts to replace the old one at a discount. He handed me a large, greasy cardboard box full of parts and said, "Take it apart, put it back together, call me if you have any questions." It took me a little while and I called him more than twice for advice, but I learned how to change a cylinder head. This was a pivotal event in my relationship with machines.

Mike is my favorite mechanic because he has never repaired anything for me. He saw that I was in a bad spot and turned that into a teaching moment, and for that I remain grateful . This concept is by no means limited to aging station wagons. We can all get more involved in keeping our own bikes and other devices working as they should. Flat tires, broken chains and other failures don't have to mean a long, forlorn walk home. Our bikes give us greater freedom of movement. They free us from big oil and other ugly institutions every time we choose them over a car to get around. Learning to maintain and repair them is another layer, notch, level or what-have-you of independence. Obviously, not everyone needs to be a master mechanic. You may not really want to work on your bike at all, and that's perfectly fine, if it's not your bag. You don't need to embrace the tinkering aspect of bicycling to enjoy it. That said, it IS worth learning to fix a flat tire at the very least, and know how to handle a few emergency repairs so you don't find yourself stranded. Knowing how to repair things out in the field is like CPR or the Heimlich Maneuver. You hope you'll never need those skills, but you'll be damn glad you learned them if you do.


The Hartford Public Library has a few bike repair manuals in its collection. Some are up-to-date, some of them date from the 70's or 80's which suits me fine, as many of the bikes I like and come across date from that era. "Richards' Bicycle Repair Manual" and Tom Cuthbertson's "Anybody's Bike Book" are two favorites, an 80's version of the latter title being the first bike repair book I ever read many years ago. "Richards'.." has an especially useful and amusing section on emergency repairs. Found objects figure prominently in their "limp home mode" solutions.

I know that many of the people I know through this blog do a fair amount of work on their own bikes. I also know that many people who read this and ride bikes haven't had much opportunity to learn how to do their own work and might even feel a bit intimidated by the idea. I hope that those of you in the first group will take some time to share some knowledge, tools, parts and camaraderie with those in the latter group. The bicycle scene in Hartford can only get stronger from this sort of sharing, and the benefits flow both ways.

A friend came by yesterday whose well-used commuter bike had been in need of attention for a long time. She had been to one of the free repair clinics at a local outdoorsy retail chain a while ago (now out-of-season, but worth checking out), but didn't have the tools and such to keep up with the normal wear-and-tear of daily riding. We checked and removed the chain and thoroughly cleaned and lubed everything drivetrain-related as a team effort. I trued the wheels so that a set of new brake pads could be adjusted closer to the rims. She just called me from work this morning to thank me again for how quiet and smooth her bike now rides and remind me that I had a homemade black bean chili dinner coming my way (she happens to be an awesome cook.) The benefits flow both ways.
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Wild rice and scenic lice

For some reason, I've had a hard time picking up the blogging machine and writing an entry. It's not like I've been avoiding my bike or there's been a shortage of funny bike-related anecdotes, I've just been word weak. I told Mary V Rickel Pelletier that I'd promote the Wild and Scenic Film Fest thing at Trinity on here, but I guess I need some accompanying bike stuff to go with it.

Let's see...

On Tuesday, I took a ride with Salem, his friend Gary from that big state out west, and others. It started off like a normal ride with 'cross bike: we rode on some roads and then in a park. There was a lot of almost losing lights, but it turns out none of them were ever lost. Then at six, we met up with this group ride that rides the Hop River State Park Trail in the dark starting from Manchester to someplace in maybe Columbia, Bolton or Coventry, I don't really know. I had no idea this trail existed until very recently. It's very nice and has some tunnels. The ride split into the fast group and the not as fast group. Riding with the not as fast group was nice. At the turn around point (where ever it was), I soon learned the worst time to get a flat tire on a fast a group ride: shortly after the turn around. Everyone has regrouped, is ready to hammer back, is thinking intensely about the hammering and is not thinking about much else. So, when I pulled to the side to see if I had a flat, I wasn't really part of anyone's consciousness. I set to work on fixing the flat, which was difficult because I was without tire levers. I was just about to improvise with the quick release when someone rolled up on a 'cross bike, but wasn't on the ride. It was slightly weird, because I was in the middle of the woods at night in rural Connecticut, but I guess one should never underestimate the popularity of whatever it was that we were doing. This nice gentleman had levers and I was back in business without having to resort to quick release improvisation. We started riding back together, but this guy was faster than me. So, I had a peaceful and pleasant solitary ride back.

On Wednesday, I had the day off. I read about CT-NEMBA doing a ride at some place called Grayville Park in Hebron. I decided to mix it up and join them. I also knew that I had to clean up all the bike stuff in the kitchen and living room because Johanna was getting mad about it (with good reason). I was moving things to the basement and in the basement, I discovered a bag with tubes in it. I decided that the tubs shouldn't be in the bag anymore and removed them, only to discover a cute little bat. At first I thought he was dead, but I juggled the bag and he moved in a living fashion. It was warm outside, so I put him under a leaf in the backyard.

So, anyway, I drove down RT 2 to Hebron and rode. Nice guys. Nice trails. It had been awhile since I rode an actual mountain bike. I remembered why I like them.

If you trackstand with one hand in a picture, it actually looks like you're tracking standing. I stole the picture from Mark at Cyclesnack/CT-NEMBA.

So, here's the film fest info:

please join us Saturday afternoon:

Wild & Scenic Film Festival:
Saturday, November 14th at 2:30pm matinee

Cinestudio on the campus of Trinity College

Eight new environmental adventure films selected from the Patagonia Wild & Scenic Film Festival. See magnificent places on a big screen. (full festival program copied below)

$12 advance tickets on sale now by calling REI (860) 233-2211
pick-up tickets purchased via telephone at the door
Call now - 9pm Friday evening for advance ticket discount.
{ticket price at door = $20.}

If you are not able to attend, please consider purchasing "community" ticket/s ($12) in advance on behalf of "Inner City Outings and/or City of Hartford "Urban Adventures" Program. For telephone ticket sales, call REI 233-2211 or visit the REI store in BlueBack Square, West Hartford.

This is a fund raising event for Park Watershed Revitalization Initiative and Farmington River Watershed Association. A summary of 'Last Descent' is listed in Thursday's Hartford Courant:

http://www.courant.com/entertainment/movies/hc-altscreenc1112.artnov12,0,4354451.story

bests,

Mary Rickel Pelletier

Project Director, Park River Watershed Revitalization Initiative
www.parkriver.org

in collaboration with the Farmington River Watershed Association

Oh yeah, there was also a bomb scare at work yesterday. That was weird. Read more!

What big eyes you have...

...and a pretty broad, flat tail as well.

I was riding back down through Hartford this afternoon on my trip home, and after crossing the bridge, I opted for a pleasant roll along the water in East River Park.

It seems beaver don't have a very good sense of scale. I've seen evidence of this before, when one started working on a four foot diameter tree near my house a few years back. Well, now it appears those industrious mammals are trying to dam the Connecticut river, with a lot of trees along the bank showing evidence of their work. I've heard of biting off more than you can chew (aww, ouch, bad pun), but this is ridiculous. Then again, it could be this beaver, in which case you'd better check your flood insurance.


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Being thankful

People often complain about the bike and pedestrian infrastructure in the Hartford area. I generally disagree, though I generally disagree with everyone.


Friday and Saturday, I was in suburban DC (Wheaton, MD) visiting my grandma. I went for a walk on Saturday evening around 7pm and I was bowled over by how terrible the traffic is. All the main roads have six lanes and are always busy. I have no idea how you'd get anywhere without a car. The Metro stop was maybe two miles away, but all the roads that bring you there and six lanes of dangerous. The only road like that around here is rt 44. I guess Hartford is pretty good.

Dario and I took a ride today and almost all of the roads were pleasant.
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A Town of Four Bridges

Living on the east side of the river, as I do, and living in a town without a bike accessible bridge, as again I do, I make frequent use of Hartford's selection of river crossing. Like yesterday, after crossing early in the day on Middletown's Arrigoni Bridge,

Arrigoni Bridge as seen by Peter Waite

I rode north, returning to my own shore via the Charter Oak Bridge. It was covered in glass. This often is the case with this bridge, such as when I was returning from a three day tour and covered over 250 miles without incident until I ripped open a tire on this span, and while I did not suffer such a fate yesterday, I caused me to muse how different the four crossing in Hartford are. They aren't just means to cross the river; they are personalities, each a unique experience.

Starting at the south, the aforementioned Charter Oak. A bit like Texas: big, tall, and a little wild west. If you seek glass shards, damaged handrails on the pedestrian stairs, and close encounters of the high speed motor scooter kind, this is your bridge. Just be sure to slow down for the perpetual puddle of water before beginning the ramp descent on the west side. Of course, this is the closest bridge to my house.

Working our way north, we have the crowning jewel of bicycle river crossings, the Founder Bridge. This isn't just a sidewalk or lane; we're talking promenade here. Lighting, statues, even a park ranger: Brendan sums this one up best, "I don't like it; it's too nice." No doubt, this is your best chance for a rare walking-yuppie sighting, as long as you don't scare them off.

Ah Bulkeley, you've always been there for us, providing a crossing for the motorless all these years, but now we've left you for better and wider lanes. If you always liked the idea of riding singletrack, but could never get into the whole dirt, rocks, sticks, and poisen ivy thing, this would make a good substitute, just remember to duck you head for the 91S/84E interchange and get ready with the binders for the 90 degree kink lest you have an intimate experience with a car accellerating to highway speeds.

Now last, and the most recent new experience for me, the train trestle out of Riverside Park, this one, like the old Riverside Amusement Park (now 6 Flags), is for the thrill seeker. Not quite "Stand by Me" exciting, it still has a not-ready-for-public-consumption feel to it. This probably has something to do with the fact that is probably isn't a legal crossing. But really, how can you pass on the allure of rubber tires on wood planks. Crossing this bridge reinforces just how good it is to be alive, assuming you don't fall to your death.

Don't get your feet wet.
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(semi)urban mountain biking

So, I want to do this compendium of urban mountain biking in and around Hartford. I don't really have anything coherent yet, but I found something new (to me) to in East Hartford: the Hockanum River Hiking Trail. It's got an orange blaze and is maybe a half a mile long. It loops you back to the rest of the Hockanum River system's boardwalk. Parts of it are very cool, but it was very leaf-covered and hard to track today. It passes a really cool looking dam.

Oh yeah, I saw this crazy truck in front of City Hall today. I guess the dam picture didn't come out that great. Read more!

Vote

Chances are, there's an election for you today. Read more!

New places & The Hartford Alley Cat V

I tend to fall in routines. I eat at a lot of different restaurants, but I almost always order the same thing at each respective place. The same thing happens with bike rides, I ride in different places, but once I establish a route/loop of trails, I keep riding the same thing. Or, I get lazy and don't even try and find a new place to ride. That's a character flaw and I'm trying to fix it. My Friday Afternoon Club of Italian Snails or "Le Lumache" has shown me a bunch of cool stuff. In fact, this past Friday was sort of a quid pro quo of me revealing some cool trails in Keney and I was shown a crazy bridge and reshown the Hockanum River Trails in East Hartford.

I'm also trying to fix it in the self-motivated sense, too. On Wednesday, armed with my fenders, I rode up my local hill and discovered a cool promontory/chill spot as well as further adding to the mystery of the MDC stuff on Cedar Hill. Why is everything on Cedar Hill/Mountain so mysterious?




On Thursday, I picked up my straightened 'cross bike from Central Wheel and set off into the reservoir and points north. This is where I'm most guilty of becoming a man of steady habits, but lately I've found some new things and started connecting more interesting loops. This ride led me down a trail that I'd never been on before and I found a water crossing, which are quite elusive at the Reservoir. There are those two rocky ones on the trail off the blue trail in the northwest corner, but they've both got boards to ride on. This is an honest to goodness creek to ride. The only thing marring the discovery was slipping down a rock a few hundred yards before the creek and smacking my knee. I only found a cool little trail at Penwood that cuts out some pavement riding, but is also open to bikes. It may not actually be that cool, but the carpet of yellow leaves made it really cool last week.


Friday was the day of crazy bidges and Hockin' numb, but its evening also brought an alley cat: The Hartford Alley Cat V. Sean organized it and dressed as the blue Teletubby. I think there were about 14 entrants. It was a night race, so I attached a bulbous headlight to my normally sleek Nishiki. We left from the Warehouse parking lot on Bartholomew. What was cool about the start was that there was no manifest, it just directed us to go to Evergreen Street. I had a hard time opening the envelope because I was wearing gloves, so I didn't get out of the parking lot as fast as I would have liked. I made up time on the way and caught in the driveway at the same time as the guy who left first. We race up the stairs and were given the actual manifest. It was very cool that we had no time to plan. The stops were Elizabeth Park Rose Garden, a house on Oakwood, TJ and Ken's house and Bushnell Park. Here's my route. The house on Oakwood had some physical challenges: big shot of grain alcohol, 5 pushups and then bob for an apple. Bobbing for the apples was great. What a great way to cool down. TJ claimed that I had to eat a stick of butter and I was instantly crestfallen, but he was just kidding. At Bushnell Park, we had to shotgun a beer. I came in first, followed by Aaron, Peter Barr, Marshall (who has incredible leather tooling skills), Dave (often called poseur Dave, but I think that's not the nicest name, there also may have been someone who finished in front of him) and then more people, but I didn't know most of their names. I ran into my old friend Linda, though, which was cool. She's living in Whitney House now. I got a cool & tight tshirt, but the real prize was this incredibly awesome Bailey Works bag. Oh man, you can fit like six watermelons in there. Or, six rotten watermelons and not have to worry about them leaking on you because the lining is some kind of space age roof tar.



I think the 666 spoke card is what gave me the edge.

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Halloween En Masse

Turnout for the October Critical Mass ride was light compared to last year, but we still had a decent-sized group ready to go at Bushnell Park this past Friday night. We headed south through Frog Hollow, down Affleck Street and past the Zion Hill Cemetery, then cut through the Trinity College campus and further south to Cedar Hill Cemetery. Cedar Hill is a beautiful place to walk or ride during the daylight, but it was pitch black at this hour. The only sources of light beyond the stone and iron entry gate were the dim glow of the mausoleum building and a few recently placed votive candles burning at one of the headstones. It was surreal and fun to ride guided by nothing more than the few feet of pavement illuminated by my headlight and the blinking red LEDs on the bikes up ahead a ways. I was also riding without my glasses, so it bordered on sensory deprivation-- disorienting as hell, but kinda cool.


We stopped for a quick break and bike adjustment by the mausoleum and then just outside the gate when Nick had the first and second of three fantastically loud catastrophic tire blowouts (that's the first flat tire hat-trick I can recall on a CM ride). The good-natured collective pit crew came to the rescue with tube repairs and a duct tape wrap for a front tire that had its sidewall ripped free from the wire bead. Dayum! The duct tape patch held for the remainder of the ride, so kudos to the master tapesmiths in our midst.

From there it was a straight shot up Maple to Main Street and downtown, stopping by City Hall to fix one more exploded tire (this time the rear). When we approached the Ancient Cemetery, our final graveyard of the evening, a Connecticut State Capitol Cop told us that there was a paid tour in the Cemetery, and that we weren't allowed in. This was kind of lame. This seemed well outside the normal jurisdiction for the State Capitol Police, whom I've hitherto only seen at the Capitol building, the Legislative Office Building, and the Dunkin Donuts at Capitol and Broad Street. Maybe it was a posse of Legislators slumming amongst the common ruck. At any rate, we shrugged and pedaled off and over the Founders Bridge to East Hartford instead, winding the evening down with a downtown loop back to Bushnell Park, where we happened upon one of the checkpoints for that evening's Alleycat race. which was going on at the same time. Does anyone have any pics or results from that, by the way?


A few people rocked costumes or face paint for the ride, including this bike-and-rider combo, which looked like a one-man Vegas Strip in the dark at Cedar Hill, plus Clark Kent and some weird Blue Man on a cargo bike.

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We're lucky that this didn't happen to us

Hartford is cooler than Seattle any day of the week. Read more!

Critical Mass This Friday: All Hallows Eve Eve

Tomorrow evening, join us for the Halloween edition of Hartford's monthly Critical Mass ride.

Meet up in Bushnell Park at the Carousel at 5:30 or so, you know the drill. Wear a costume, or dress up your bike (last year I dressed my 15-year old beater Trek as a Colnago-- red duct tape and paint pens can do wonders!)

Also tomorrow evening is the Hartford Alleycat
For those of you not on Facebook, It starts at 7:45 PM at The Warehouse, 45 Bartholomew Ave. in Hartford

P.S. That sweet bike zombie art is from Post Carbon Comics by Ken Avidor.

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More Cross Posting

With the help of digital photography and insomnia, I present to you a few of my pictures from Sunday's race. First of all, mad props to Brendan and everyone else who made this happen. The weather was fantastic, the course was sweet, the turnout was great. I was kinda bummed about not getting my ghettofabbed slimstyle dropbar 96er together in time for the race until I saw how ridiculously outclassed I would have been. I did see at least one racer rocking sneakers and platform pedals, so I wouldn't have been alone in that regard. The Riverside Park area has always been a great place to ride (except perhaps when flooded) and it was a strong setting for this inaugural race.

I started spectating in some of the more open and visible areas near the boathouse before shadowing the course on foot and hiking up to the top of the big climb. It wasn't long, however before I was drawn to the woods. This was my favorite part of the course. The ground had a nice mix of firm and muddy bits, and the racers would spread out a bit more. Here it felt much more like rider versus terrain than the frantic jockeying for position that took place elsewhere. This is not to say the riders slacked off in the woods by any means, there was just something more swift and quiet about it, like locomotives in a snowstorm.

Maybe it was just the lack of spectators in this section... Anyway, it was pretty freaking cool, especially the area around the bridge.



From there it was back along the river and back out into the open, where glory and swag awaited the victors.

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Cross pictures

I've got a couple of pictures now.

I've also got some by Luis Cotto on picasa. CCBA has them on facebook.

Here are some taken by Cedric De La Cruz of the men's 1/2/3 race:




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