The tire is a 700×35 Panaracer Pasela Tourguard.  The tread still has plenty of life left in it, so it’s rather disappointing that I can’t use it anymore. On the other hand, these tires are known to have rather weak sidewalls, so in that sense, I can’t say I’m surprised.

According to my records, I put this tire on the bike in December of 2009, and it has lasted 4361 miles (all as a front tire).  Those miles were on all kinds of terrain: pavement, gravel, trails, debris-strewn urban streets and harsh country roads. These are relatively inexpensive tires, so I feel pretty good about this. I don’t have exact records, but I think I got, at most, one or two flat tires that entire time.

I had an extra tire in the garage, of exactly the same model. I replaced the old one. We’ll see how long this one lasts …

I still have the stock tires on the bike, Continental Contacts (700×37). So far, these have been great tires. I am amazed that I have gone so long without a puncture — I have ridden through and over all kinds of glass, rocks, sticks, thorns, etc., on and off the road. They don’t exactly have a cushy ride, but traction is great and the puncture protection seems to work very well. When it comes time to replace them, I’m going to have a hard time deciding whether to get more Contacts, or try to find something a little more supple that still has puncture protection.

Of course, now I’m bracing myself for a bunch more flat tires. These things usually come in groups. At the beginning of last year, I got flat tires on three or four consecutive rides. I hope I don’t repeat that string of bad luck.

I had picked up my commuting bike from the bike shop on Friday. I had it in for a tune-up, and for them to fix the squeaky/stiff steering. Unfortunately, the guy who worked on it told me one of my rear brake pieces had seized, and in his attempts to remove it, the brake boss broke off the frame. He was able to put a bolt in it with a large washer as a spacer, which he said he thought would work. At first glance it seemed OK, and it worked fine during the riding Sarah and I did on Saturday. I don’t think this was his fault — if it broke off that easily, I figure it would have broken eventually anyway. I may need to see if I can find someone to weld a new boss onto the frame. Anyone know if this is possible? It’s a steel bike, so I figure there might be some chance this might work, if I can find someone who knows how to do it.

On Sunday I decided to go on an exploration ride through Yellowwood State forest, a ride with both pavement and gravel terrain. The commuter was the best bike for the task, and this would give me a chance for a proper shakedown ride to see if that brake was going to work. I’ve really been enjoying this bike lately. My road bike wants to go fast, and that’s nice sometimes, but on this bike, it’s difficult to be in a hurry, which encourages me to take my time and stop to smell the proverbial roses. I also like that this bike has platform pedals, so I can wear any shoes I want. In fact, I opted for sandals for this ride, which I loved.

I got off to a later start than I had hoped, leaving home around noon. It was around 90 degrees, with a heat index in the mid-90s and pretty decent winds. A lot of roads in the area were flooded due to the 8+ inches of rain we received, in one storm. Some whole towns were flooded — thankfully, we did not get any flooding near our apartment. Many roads were closed due to the flooding. I tried to avoid roads I had read were closed, but I really wasn’t sure if I would encounter flooding during this ride. I assumed I would, at some point, but I wasn’t sure where that was likely to be.

It was hot outside, but I noticed the wind felt great on my feet. I’ll have to do more riding in sandals — it was a huge improvement over my cycling shoes, which are ventilated, but no ventilation can really compete with feeling the air flow freely over your toes. It’s much cooler. I really took my time, hoping to keep myself from overheating or wearing myself out too early in the ride. I knew that the gravel sections would be pretty difficult. I also looked around more than usual as I rode, trying to scope out potential campsites for future S24O trips. It’s fun to look around and consider where you might camp stealthily, as opposed to renting a campsite.

Riding east on 45

Some small rolling hills in farmland

This hill always feels much harder than it looks, for some reason

I rode through New Unionville, then Unionville, and kept riding. I stopped to take a couple of photos, and a guy rolled up in his car and asked if I had plenty of water. I said “yes,” pointing to my two water bottles in cages, and one more strapped to the rear rack, but he gave me a stern look and said, “I mean a LOT of water.” “I’m fine,” I said. Oddly enough, the guy turned around and drove the other way. I appreciate his concern, but I always take a lot of water, especially when it’s so hot outside.

One advantage of the route I’d chosen was that once I started to approach the state forest, there was quite a bit of shade. This sure was a welcome respite from the heat of the sun.

Shady section of 45

I soon reached Lanam Ridge Road, which would take me to the gravel roads I’d ride through the state forest proper.

Lanam Ridge Road goes up to the right

After a brief stint on Lanam Ridge, I turned onto Yellowwood Lake Road, finally hitting gravel. There was quite a bit of debris on the road, presumably from all the rain we’ve gotten. I think there was water running over the road at some point that left the debris.

Yellowwood Lake Road, with some debris

Shadow-speckled gravel climb

After a while, I saw an extremely steep and eroded gravel road or driveway going up on my right. I stopped to explore, hiking up since it was too rutted and steep to ride.

Steep, eroded driveway

I thought I might find a good potential campsite here, but as I crested the hill, I saw a trailer. I couldn’t tell whether it was inhabited, but I didn’t go too close in case it was. It’s pretty difficult to tell what’s private property and what isn’t, in the state forest areas; it’s a strange and random combination of public and private land.

Trailer at the top of the hill

I went back down the hill and started riding again. For several miles I mostly got to ride downhill. I kept my speed fairly low, though, as my slick tires have limited stopping power on gravel, and there was a fair amount of debris strewn across the road at times. Still, I had a fun, fast, long descent down from the ridge, losing about 250 feet of elevation over the course of about three miles.

The road followed Jackson Creek for a while, which had a lot of water in it. The sound of the rushing water drew me to stop by a waterfall to take a break. I waded into the water, took off my helmet and splashed water on my face. The cool water ran clear and felt incredibly refreshing, and I spent a few minutes cooling off by the waterfall.

Jackson Creek follows Yellowwood Lake Rd.

Waterfall

Another advantage to riding in sandals

My bicycle by the creek

After this break, I pressed on. I encountered a few places with moderate flooding, but so far all the water I encountered was quite shallow and I was able to ride through it.

Water covers the road

My wheel in the mud

More mild flooding

Someone’s driveway

Entering the state forest (I thought I was already there … again, it can be hard to tell)

Small cemetery

There were a few climbs short, but mostly I was still going downhill. I knew riding back would be a lot harder, although I was planning to ride back on a different road, so it was hard to know how different it would be. Regardless, I knew I’d pay for all this relatively easy riding — although it really wasn’t that easy. I rode past trailheads for several horse trails (I really wish they allowed bicycles on them) and stopped to explore some kind of old logging road on foot. I didn’t stray too far from the road, but I think you could pitch a tent in a place like this without anyone finding you.

Stopping by the logging road

Old logging road

More logging road, and a few logs

Before long, I reached Yellowwood Lake, one of my favorite lakes in this area. I stopped near the Jackson Creek trailhead to take a couple of photos of the lake.

Yellowwood Lake

Me, on a small pier jutting out into the lake

I also saw a campground I always forget is there and rode over to explore it. It’s tent camping only, and you can’t park right at your campsite. However there are sites right on the lake, and it’s quite beautiful. If you got there early enough to get one of the better sites, it would be a fantastic place to camp.

View from a campsite

Campsite

I rode on, figuring I’d take a break over by the shelter where Sarah and I will be getting married in September. On my way there I saw two barrels, one on each side of the road, with caution tape on them. The sides of the road had eroded and fallen away.

Trees

Road erosion

World’s largest pothole

The shelter where our wedding will be

Resting by a picnic table

I was going to call Sarah so I could talk to her from this spot that is going to have such significance in our lives, but I couldn’t get a signal on my cell phone. I also wanted to let her know my 2-3-hour estimate for this ride was off. I had already been riding/exploring for two hours, and I was only about halfway done. Whoops.

I hit pavement for a mile or two, and the riding got so much easier. I saw a lot of flooded fields.

Flooded fields, with a really cool split log fence

As I approached Green Valley Road/Dubois Ridge Road (pronounced by the locals as “duh-boys”), I saw that the road was under water. A couple of pickup trucks drove through it, just barely making it through; one was a DNR truck. If I had been driving my car, I almost certainly would not have been able to make it through here.

Flooding

DNR truck driving through the

After the trucks passed, I rode through the water, which was fairly deep but stayed below bottom bracket level. My rear derailleur got submerged, though. I imagine that’s not good for it. After getting past this obstacle, I was on dry land but saw more flooding ahead, and it looked deeper. I looked at the bridge on the road off to the right and saw that the water level was almost exactly even with the top of the bridge, and had obviously been covering it earlier. Normally, the water is several feet lower than the bridge.

Bridge, almost submerged

The old bridge, which still stands right next to the new one, was a lot higher, but it is falling apart

Looking across the bridge — normally there is no water there whatsoever

More flooded fields

The flooding ahead of me — I was taking the road to the left

I decided to try riding through the water here, even though it looked a bit deeper. It got almost up to my bottom bracket, so I got off the bike and carried it through the water. The water came about up to my knees. Once again, I was really glad to have the sandals, rather than soaking my cycling shoes.

I waded through this part, then had quite a climb ahead
Once on dry land again, I started climbing up Dubois Ridge Road. There was quite a bit of climbing ahead of me, but I took my time and spun up the hill in a low gear. I stopped a guy headed the other way in a pickup to let him know about the flooding ahead. A couple other vehicles went by, but I wasn’t able to get their attention. I hope they didn’t end up stuck in the water. At some point, my rear brake, the one that the shop had done the hack fix on, started making weird noises, and I noticed it wasn’t hitting the rim at the correct angle. The brake arm felt a bit loose. It also lost a lot of stopping power, but since I was going uphill it really wasn’t a problem. I saw a lot more trailheads, logging roads and some potential campsites along Dubois Ridge Road.

Long, gradual gravel road climb

More climbing

I had just figured that I must be almost back to Lanam Ridge Road (and pavement) when I heard a loud BANG!!! sound. Dismayed, I knew it must have been my rear tire. I stopped and looked and sure enough, there was a big tear in the sidewall, obviously caused by the brake pad rubbing the tire. I surmised that there was no way I could patch this hole and after some contemplation, I decided I needed to call Sarah to come pick me up. I carry patch kits and extra tubes, but not extra tires. My cell phone had no signal, so I hiked until I got a signal, which thankfully was probably only about half a mile. I told her how to get to where I was and that I would meet her on Lanam Ridge Road or 45, however far I could make it on foot by the time she arrived. I hiked maybe another half mile, mostly uphill, before I hit Lanam Ridge Road.

Hiking uphill with my bike 

Interesting gate on Dubois Ridge Road

Torn sidewall

Reaching Lanam Ridge

Interesting hillside

Pushing my bike. Note that my GPS, which had not worked the whole trip, now started working.

I walked along Lanam Ridge for a while, which has rolling hills. After a while, Sarah showed up to save the day and she sure was a sight for sore eyes. Smart girl that she is, she brought a bunch of food, water, and Powerade. I considered it fortuitous timing that she had just gotten her driver’s license the day before. I was frustrated and a bit sad that my trusty old mountain bike seemed to be on its last legs, but still in a good mood — I had a great ride, and I got to spend the rest of the day with Sarah. What a day!

Bike update: last night I took the bike back to the shop and they tried another possible fix for the brake, but if this doesn’t work basically there’s nothing that can be done, unless I can find someone to braze on a new brake boss, and am willing to pay for that. I don’t know how much it’d cost, but I bet it wouldn’t be cheap. I did ride the bike to work today, and it was fine, but it may be relegated to around town rides for the time being, and I’ll probably be forced to retire this bike soon. Sad, as I’ve had it for since the mid-90s.

This brings me to the one downside to my Rivendell Roll-y Pol-y tires: they are damn near impossible to get on and off my rims. I didn’t care much once I got them on and road over 400 miles without a flat tire. But now that I seem to be getting regular flat tires, it’s becoming a real problem. I don’t know whether it’s because of the tires, or my rims, or if they just don’t play nicely together for some reason. But it’s driving me crazy. And of course, so are the flat tires, but I don’t blame the tires for that. Sure, if I had kevlar belts in my tires, I probably would’ve been OK, but I intentionally did not buy tires with the belts because of their weight. And I had no problems until recently. Maybe I need some tougher tires for winter.

I also scratched the paint on my top tube — I guess I leaned my bike against something abrasive. I’ll have to be more careful about that in the future. I finished the ride and enjoyed it a lot, once I was rolling again.

My ride seemed doomed from the start. It was around 40 degrees and while it hadn’t rained all morning, a few drops started falling as I was getting ready. Undeterred, I headed out, figuring I would do my Mount Gilead Road route, which is about 13 miles and so can be done in under an hour. I was probably 2-3 miles into my ride when the rain started in earnest. I was getting wet, but I sure was enjoying my ride. I had to be extra careful going down the big hill since the roads were slightly wet, and very slippery.

After I climbed up out of the valley, I noticed a weird sound. At first, I thought something was rubbing somewhere, perhaps my fender rubbing the tire. It wasn’t. I realized my front tire had a leak in it and was hissing slightly as the air leaked out. It wasn’t the telltale sudden lound hissing sound that often accompanies a flat tire.

I pulled over and grabbed my pump so I could find the leak to patch it. I pumped some air into the tire and yanked the pump off, in the process tearing the core from the Presta valve stem. I had used the inner tube from my saddle bag on the previous ride and not replaced it, so although I felt prepared with my patch kit, I was completely screwed. Naturally, I was about halfway through my ride, placing me 6-7 miles from home. I wasn’t about to walk that kind of distance, so I called Sarah and she looked up a cab company number for me. While I was waiting for the cab, two different cars stopped to see if I was OK. So if I hadn’t had the cell phone, I’m sure I would’ve figured something out, but I was glad that I didn’t have to count on anyone else. And now the cab company number is in my cell phone.

Lesson learned (twice!): having a patch kit is not enough. I’ll carry a spare tube with me whenever possible. I’m a little baffled that two rides in a row, I had flat tires that I couldn’t handle with my patch kit. Even if the second time seems to have been my fault, it’s a little weird.

This morning’s commute was in the mid-30s and windy. I was dressed mostly appropriately but could have used my neck gaiter. I intended to take it easy, but I was battling 30 mph head- and cross-winds, in an upright position on a mountain bike. A few drops of rain fell, just enough to remind me that it could be much worse and be glad it wasn’t actually raining.

One piece of clothing I’ve found works really well for me, but that I haven’t seen or heard many other cyclists using, is a pair of jogging pants. I have a few pairs now of these, nylon pants with a mesh lining, and I think they’re great. They do a great job of shielding me from the wind and some are water-resistant.  The two layers provide warmth, but the mesh also keeps the outer layer from sticking to your skin. They dry quickly, too. These are great, and inexpensive. The only downsides I see are that they aren’t very aerodynamic, and sometimes I wish the legs were a little longer.

It’s incredibly warm here now — it was around 60 degrees yesterday, with a high of 69 predicted for today. For January, this is insane. I took advantage of the warm weather to go for a bike ride yesterday. I chose the Ride Around Lake Monroe route, which  I’ve ridden once before. This ride also goes to the same area as Dr. T’s Funky Fifty.

Despite the warm weather, it was a pretty dreary day. It wasn’t raining while I was riding, but it had been earlier, so the roads were covered in water and grime. And it was overcast to the point where I wasn’t sure how well my camera would work. Fortunately, it did work. Anyway, I set out on Smith Road and took Moore’s Pike over to 446, which took me away from town. Traffic was light but winds were harsh, gusting to some 30 mph, and I rode into the wind for the first 12 miles of my ride or so.

Riding across Lake Monroe is always a highlight of any ride that takes 446 across the causeway. The lake had a weird blue-green hue, not the kind of green that makes you think of algae, but something a little brighter. Contrasted with the grey clouds and dark hills in the distance, the color of the lake seemed emphasized, and it looked almost surreal.

Lake Monroe had a weird blue-green hue

After Lake Monroe is a big climb that took a little more out of me than it should have. The lack of riding as of late is taking its toll.

Hill after crossing Lake Monroe

Limestone lines the road on another part of the climb

After that hill, 446 is pretty easy for a while, a little curvy but not very hilly. I took 446 to Chapel Hill Road, which is a fun road to ride on. At some point I realized that this route is roughly the same as the Hoosier Hills 60K route and for a while followed Dan Henrys. Chapel Hill has some rolling hills and a patchwork surface from workers patching potholes many times. For some reason I love riding on this kind of road more than roads with a perfectly smooth surface. It has a lot more character, each patch reflecting some part of the road’s history. It also makes things more challenging, choosing a good line, rather than ambling down the road without giving it much thought  — which is also great, just different.

I passed Krazy Joe’s Trading Post, which I’ve written about here before. I didn’t stop this time and I took some photos, but don’t feel the need to post more. For more about Krazy Joe’s, see my blog post Food, fiddlin’, and fun … plus caskets.

I rode further and the map didn’t match what I was seeing. To make matters worse, a number of roads didn’t have street signs. So, I got lost. Well not lost exactly, but I wasn’t sure what road I was on, or how to get to the road the map said to get on. I passed a church with a cemetery and a tattered flag, like so many flags around here have been since the winds hit a few weeks ago.

Point of view riding shot

Chapel Hill Pentecostal Assembly

Tattered flag

I took what I later determined to be a wrong turn and started noticing a weird squeaking sound as I pedaled. I thought it was my bottom bracket at first, but then I realized my tire was flat. I wasn’t sure, really, if it had just gone flat or if it had been slowly losing air, or what. I stopped and pumped some air into it to see if I could hear where the hole was. I couldn’t hear anything so I inflated the tire the best I could and continued riding back toward where I thought I had made the wrong turn. My tire continued losing air. I got onto what I thought was the right road and stopped by a forest across from an abandoned house to fix my tire.

Abandoned house

Normally, I would patch my inner tube and try to keep using it. Since I couldn’t find the leak, I had no choice but to install a fresh tube. A dog at a neighboring house took an interest in me and I almost moved elsewhere to get away from the dog, but he stayed on his property and watched intently without disturbing me. I felt the inside of my tire and the rip strip to see if I could find anything that might have poked the inner tube, but couldn’t find anything. I installed a fresh tube and it seemed to be holding air. After pumping for what seemed like forever, I was on the road again. I couldn’t help but feel a little jinxed because 2/3 of my rides in this area have been plagued with mechanical problems, first my cracked rim on Dr. T’s Funky Fifty, and now this. And every time I’ve ridden out here, I’ve gotten lost.

A pretty place to change my tube

Pine trees

I soon determined that I was on the wrong road again, but I was on Coveyville Road, which was the next road I was supposed to turn on. So I kept going, knowing that this would get me to where I needed to be. This turned out to be a more fun way to go, I think, and it had me ride down a big hill and then climb up to the intersection of Hardin Ridge (I think) and Coveyville, which looks out over some farmland and a pond, with hills in the distance.
Coveyville Panorama

After descending into a valley, the road becomes straight and flat for probably 3/4 mile, quite a dramatic change from the twisty, hilly roads I’d been on.

Flat, straight road

After this brief and easy flat section, the road turns and begins a climb labeled “The Alps.”  While I’ve never seen the real Alps, I suppose this name is apt. There’s a really long climb and once at the top you can, at this time of year, see through the trees to see valleys and hills after them, and the lake appears to be suspended on a hill; presumably I must have been seeing the dam. It was beautiful, but I knew my camera would focus on the forest and miss the scenery beyond.

I eventually got lost again. I was supposed to find Ramp Creek Road, but I saw nothing with that name. I need to look at some real maps of this area and see if I can’t figure out how things connect. I always get lost here and the Bloomington Bicycle Club maps do not at all seem to match the roads as I see them. I’m a decent map-reader, so I really do think it’s the map.

Lake Monroe

From here I decided to try to find Ramp Creek Road, which turned out to be a bad move as I passed where I feel I should have turned and ended up taking a really stupid route through town. Something similar happened on a past ride, but this was worse. I’ve never gotten lost so many times on one ride before … especially in my own town! I also ended up riding on some much busier roads than I would’ve liked. Drivers were courteous, but this was not a good way to go. I’m not sure what I did, but I need to familiarize myself with these roads. Perhaps a drive out in that area is in order.

Despite my flat tire and getting lost, I very much enjoyed this ride. I’m glad I took advantage of the rare January warm weather and rode longer than I have for a while. My ride ended up being just shy of 45 miles.

Silo silhouetted against the sky

The first thing I noticed as I was getting ready was that it was cold. I wasn’t really prepared for how much cooler it was there. I was pretty comfortable, though, even in shorts and a short-sleeved jersey. I felt a little bit cool, but I don’t mind that. Of course, the first thing the trail did was go through a creek. By the time I had gone less than a quarter of a mile, I was already drenched and freezing. I knew I’d warm up and dry out, so I wasn’t worried. It was really hard to shift right from the start; I did a number on my derailleur cables on my last mountain bike ride, which was very dusty (see the Pre-Breakdown Shakedown).

Winona Lake is an interesting trail because it has numerous points where there are more difficult sections of trail, and you can choose whether to go on the harder part or take an easier bypass around the obstacles. I checked out the first difficult section, and it had a pretty big drop-off. I decided against riding it. I knew I could probably make it, but the consequences for messing up would have been pretty severe, and I was riding alone. If something happened, getting help would have been difficult. So, I backtracked and took the easier way instead.

I got a bit confused a couple of times about how to follow the trail. It’s an overlapping network of trails, with signs, and I had a map, but it was still pretty difficult to follow. I figured out a good way to go. I rode some more and came across another difficult section, and rode it. I went flying down a hill, up a ramp to a narrow wooden bridge, and then dropped back down and crossed a big log. The trail wound around, and I had a little trouble keeping good traction. The soil was sandier and looser than what I’m used to, and it took me a while to figure out how to keep good traction.

The trail wound around some more and spit me back out on a paved road. I saw that the trail continued on the other side, and kept riding. I saw a drop-off coming up, but didn’t realize how big it was until the last moment. I almost tried to stop, but instead kept going, catching some good air and landing safely. The trail wound was a bit straighter for a few minutes, with some small climbs and descents. I looked up and saw a huge deer. At first, I didn’t even think she was real, she was huge and standing very stoically and looked statuesque. Then she moved and I realized that she was the real deal. She was pretty different from the deer I usually see at home, much bigger and with grey fur instead of a reddish brown.

One thing that took me a while to get used to at Winona Lake is that it goes near a paved path and a bunch of subdivisions and other signs of civilization. It’s clear that they had a pretty small piece of land and wanted to cram as much trail on it as possible, because the trail loops around in sort of weird ways and you often find yourself going back in the direction from which you came. At first, I took this to mean I was going the wrong way, until I realized the trail was doing a bit of zig-zag action. This also means sometimes you’ll ride right by a section of trail you already rode on. It’s a little disconcerting when you’re used to trails that go somewhere.

I kept riding, and took another one of the difficult trails. I stopped short when I saw a cascade of 3-4 big dropoffs. I wanted to try it, but I didn’t have the nerve. Again, maybe if I hadn’t been riding alone, I would have given it a shot. Alas. I took the easier way and then found myself on the very interesting Field Trail, which is appropriately named. Suddenly, I found myself out of the woods and in an open field with tall grasses growing in it. The trail wound through this field for a while. It was pretty cool, and reminded me a bit of the balds we saw in the mountains. I took the wrong trail at the other end of the field, but corrected my mistake and went flying down a big hill with a banked turn at the bottom of it.

The trail followed a creek for a while, which was really pretty. Then, it crossed a bridge and got twistier on the other side of the creek. There were a couple of difficult trails in this section, including the Caution Trail, which has a lot of extremely sharp turns. There were a number of logs and big roots to jump, some short, steep climbs, and some really fun descents. My memory is a little hazy on this section of trail, but the thing I remember most is all the sharp turns. There was also a fun mounded dirt jump at one point, and a “Black and Blue” big dropoff that I didn’t attempt. The trail followed the creek some more and spit me out at the beginning.

I decided to ride the loop a second time, now that I had a sense of the trail and which technical features to attempt and which to skip. I got a little past the narrow wooden bridge when I noticed my tires making noise. I thought it was just the slightly-crunchy rocks in the soil at first, but I looked down to check my tires. The front was fine. The rear had gone flat. Crap!

Fortunately, I had a pump and patch kit in my Camelbak. I got to work on finding and fixing the leak. I found a small hole in my tire, and a matching one in the inner tube. There was no sign of anything still being stuck in the tire. A couple of runners went by, asking if I needed help. One of them even had a pump! But I had everything I needed, and they continued running. I messed up putting the first patch on, but got it right on my second try. I got anxious and tried to put the first one on before the glue was completely dry. I was being eaten alive by mosquitoes through all of this — I hadn’t noticed them while I was riding, but as soon as I stopped, they attacked.

The second patch took, and I seated the tire and tube and started pumping. My pump worked surprisingly well. I say “surprisingly” because it doesn’t work well at all on my road bike. It probably took a couple hundred pumps, but I think I got my tire up to around 50 psi, which is where I normally run it. I didn’t have a pressure gauge to check.

Once I got moving again, the rest of my ride went very smoothly. I was finally getting used to the loose, rocky, sandy soil and learning how to get better traction. I also did better on the technical features. I enjoyed my second lap a lot more than the first, since I was more familiar with the trail and was able to really let loose a couple of times where I had to be more cautious the first time around.

All things considered, I really enjoyed my ride. The Winona Lake trail was not what I expected — I was hoping for something that would cover more ground, rather than zigzagging across the same small piece of land — and it didn’t even go by the lake. But it was a lot of fun in its own right, I enjoyed the twisty sections, technical features, and the dropoffs I did do. I’m still not sure if I’d want to ride on it for 24 hours (or 12), although that’s still under consideration.

This “Simplify” sign had a surprising impact on me.  I’ve thought about it a few times since then. Then yesterday, I looked at my bank statement online and felt stupid — “this transaction was unnecessary,” I thought. “This one, too.” There were several things on there that I just didn’t need. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much stuff is cluttering up my life.

Then, on my way home from work (I drove, since my bike had a flat tire), I saw a man laying on the ground and a cyclist trying to help him. I turned off on a side street so I could turn around and see if I could help. I turned around, and I was stuck at the intersection, but I could see across. A few people were trying to help the man, and at least two people had already called 911. The man appeared to be unconscious. He started to convulse a little bit. Moments later, he regained consciousness and tried to get up. Someone helped him to his feet. He seemed to have enough help, and I could hear an ambulance already, so I decided to continue on my way.

Another reason I didn’t stick around was that I knew I couldn’t do much. I don’t know much about first aid, and I took a CPR class back in high school, but that was a long time ago. I felt helpless. Fortunately, this guy already had people helping him, but what if I was the only one there, and I didn’t know what to do? I felt silly that I had worried earlier that day about my flat tire and getting a new tire and how I was anxious to get home quickly. Those things are so trivial compared to a human life.

I need to get back to basics. I’m going to make a concerted effort to simplify my life. I’m not sure yet what that will mean, but I need to figure that out. Two things I know it will involve are buying less crap and learning some first aid and CPR. Especially with all the cycling I do, and the hiking Sarah and I do together, I really need to know those things. Sarah said she’d take some classes with me, which is a great idea. I think I can get rid of a lot of the junk I already have, too. I have a lot of clothes that don’t fit anymore, and stuff I don’t use. It needs to go. I have two old bicycles I’ve been meaning to get rid of, but haven’t. I have no idea why, I just keep putting it off.

I’m hoping this simplification will help on several levels. It should help me save money, and I think having less clutter will make me more comfortable. It’ll be easier to find things if I don’t have so much junk to dig through. But more importantly, I have been trying to be more self-reliant in general, and I think that learning first aid — and trying to depend less on things I should be able to do without — should help me do that. I already feel more self-reliant from cycling. If my car broke down, or I crashed it, or something happened and oil prices skyrocketed even further, I could still get around. But if one of my loved ones got hurt, I wouldn’t be able to do much of anything. That is unacceptable.

I was planning on riding on the road one day this weekend and mountain biking the other day, but since I didn’t get to ride on Saturday, I ended up scrapping mountain biking in favor of a long road ride on Sunday. I’ve been digging road riding more recently, although my interest seems to alternate between the two.

It took me a while to figure out what route to ride. I ended up settling on the Hobbieville Ride, which is a Bloomington Bicycle Club route, although I was riding solo. The length was about what I had in mind (it says 46.05 miles on that Routeslip route), and it goes through an area where I hadn’t ridden before. It looked like a lot of fun. I posted a video at the end of this post, scroll down to watch it.

Unfortunately, I did not adequately compare the cue sheet with the map, and had some problems. The cue sheet doesn’t indicate that Church Lane changes into Victor Pike almost immediately. I figured I was going the right way (and I was), but it was a little unsettling. Victor Pike was pretty interesting, it went through some industrial and farm areas, and then had a big climb up to a Victor Oolitic Stone Company limestone quarry. Even though we have hundreds of quarries around here, they always fascinate me, as they look like their own small worlds, almost like stumbling upon a forgotten city. I knew I was at quite a high elevation and got a glimpse of what looked like a good view, but it was obstructed by some huge stones. I stopped to see if I could get around the stones or climb on them. I was able to simply walk around, and I was greeted with this view (click to see other sizes):

Victor Oolitic Stone Company limestone quarry

Another problem I had was that a lot of streets had no signs, so I had a lot of difficulty figuring out which way to go at a couple of different times. In particular, I went the wrong way on Rockport Road. Actually, I made a mistake I often make — I went the right way, second-guessed my instincts, and went back the other way. I ended up calling Sarah to have her double check the map. She confirmed my suspicion that I had gone the right way the first time. My mistake added about six miles to my ride.

I went by the fire station that houses the Indian Creek Fire Fighters, and the Indian Creek Community Park. I stopped at the park to rest and see if I could find a water source to refill my water bottles (I didn’t). On a side note, I just found this page about a township trustee who has been trying to shut down the fire department. I don’t know about you, but I’d be pretty pissed off if an official I elected decided it’d be a good idea to shut down the fire department and contract the work to a further department with a 20-minute response time (instead of 6 minutes).

The route took me across a bunch of farms on some pretty crummy roads. It was pretty, but not as pretty as my rides near Morgan-Monroe State Forest. However, people in this area were extremely bicycle-friendly. Not only did I not have trouble with cars, I got a lot of waves, smiles, nods, and even a couple of thumbs-up!

On State Road 54, I passed an awesome tiny library, the Eastern Branch of the Bloomfield-Eastern Greene County Public Library. I wanted to take a photo, but I didn’t really have time, and I didn’t want to stop. But I thought of Sarah and made sure to tell her about it when I got home. Maybe she can get a job there.

I found myself on State Road 43 for a stretch, with a fun descent, numerous climbs, and a sighting of some kind of squirrel-like rodent that I think might have been a groundhog. I’m not sure. I rode into the wind from this point until I got home, approximately the last 10 miles of the ride. I made yet another mistake and missed one of the signs to stay on 43, going straight instead of turning left. I climbed a bunch more hills, finally finding a place to refill my water bottles — a tire shop that was closed, but had a vending machine.

My missed turn had further repercussions, as I ended up having to ride back on State Road 45, which isn’t bad on the east side of town. But where I was, it was a 2-lane, busy road with speed limits around 50 mph, with no shoulder. It was a bit nerve-wracking, but I did OK. As I rode along, though, into the wind, I could feel the rear end of my bike moving laterally a bit with the wind gusts, and realized that the pressure in my rear tire was very low. I stopped to fix it.

I pumped up the tire as much as I could with my mini pump (which, I discovered, sucks) to see if I could find a leak. It seemed to be mostly holding air at this point, so I decided to go ahead and ride on it. It had a leak, but a slow one. I rode a few more harrowing miles on 45, got into town, and followed my usual commute route home.

I haven’t investigated the leak further. I need to do that tonight. I think I’m going to buy some replacement tires. I may or may not need them yet, but I do think these tires are getting pretty worn, with over 1300 miles on them.

I really don’t have a lot of confidence in my patch job — I used a glueless patch, and it seems to be holding for now, but I think it might be leaking slowly. It’s really hard to tell. I think I’ll probably replace the tube tonight just to be sure, and get some glue-type patches for future flats. Everything I’ve read says the gluey patches work better. Of course, I didn’t bother reading that stuff before I bought the glueless kind.

I usually make coffee at night and chill it in a pitcher, since I like iced coffee. I make enough for several days. However, I forgot I was out of coffee and didn’t make any last night. So I ended up going through the Starbucks drive-through (which I’m now calling a “ride-through”) on my bike on my way to work this morning. They were really cool about it and said they hadn’t had any cyclists ride through for a while. They didn’t even know that a type of mug they carry fits in a water bottle cage, and were interested to learn that.