On Sunday, July 21, 2019 at 2:04:30 AM UTC+1, Duane wrote:
jbeattie wrote:

You mean riding in gorgeous sunshine? Listening to the Mid-Westerners
complain about the heat, I feel guilty. Nice spin through the
countryside today with a ferry ride.
https://bikeportland.org/wp-content/...65a1037e_o.jpg Probably
80F. I got to the ferry, and it was pulling out. The operator saw me and
stopped, backed up, dropped the gate and let me on. It was great. There
were a couple other racer-dudes on the ferry with really nice equipment,
except for one of them had an MP3 player and was blaring Grateful Dead. I
let them get down the road a ways. Why must people blare music?




32c here today with a humidex over 40. But oddly enough the 35km/h winds
must have had an evaporative effect because it wasn’t awful. Nasty
thunderstorms lurking though.


Anyway, I decided to give the Trek a nice cleaning on the washstand. My
favorite modern invention are Costco exam gloves so I can use my finger
as a goop lathe on the pulley wheels and chainrings. I use the Park
brush and scraper on the cassettes and a stiff bristle parts brush on the
chain with Simple Green and hose spray. I flush it with WD40 and rag dry
before adding lubricant which is pedestrian TriFlo because I have a bunch
of it. I got my washstand on supersale at Western.
https://static.westernbikeworks.com/...0/ffspr2-1.jpg
You can spin the bike around which is convenient.

Speaking of, maintenance of non-bike things is important too, like sticky
fold-out legs on washstands. I also check my clown pump to make sure it
is not seized or has a bad gasket or needs lube.


Had my co2 adapter blow out the o ring trying to fill a friend’s tire. I’m
supposed to lube that a bit occasionally but I haven’t had a flat in 2
years so out of sight out of mind.

-- Jay Beattie.

--
duane

The "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" (John Keats, To Autumn, 1820) in the "green and beloved isle" (?) is characterized at present, generally, often, always when I want to cycle, by a persistent, ultimately drenching drizzle called "a soft day" (traditional lie taken up by the Tourist Board) driven by the wind from whichever point of the compass the cyclist's head turns.

Andre Jute
I'm not a duck!