ride report: one FA (yours truly) and one decidedly non-FA (hobe) enforced the 7 minute rule and made a prompt 7:10 rollout. lina had shown up moments before my arrival but had deemed a cleat replacement necessary, so did not make the rollout time. besides, not FA enough. i was being somewhat blindly optimistic that hobe would not lay down the pain. by sheer luck, and hobe's poor ability to play the role of corpulent individual, he pulled a spoke straight through the non-driveside flange of the rear hub on his brand new wheels. d'oh. pros: happened right at the caltrain station on tunnel ave. cons: prerequisite funky 5mm female nipple driver missing. ergo, broken wheel. result: -1 rider. so the rest of the ride was solo. the tailwind was howling, otherworldly, spinout-inducing and sometimes soulcrushing (during the brief moments you have to u-turn northbound in foster city.) it was one of the few times (being on a fixie) that i could truly say i was being ridden by the bike and not vice versa. if this sensation alone did not make the ride worth it, the priceless facial expressions of all cyclists (and even pedestrians) in the northbound direction did. ~brian edit: photo of hobinator's borked wheel: http://picasaweb.google.com/hobe/Bikes#5324618076157738306
On Mon, Apr 13, 2009 at 11:51 AM, Brian Wickman wrote:
I have a vague recollection of owning a bicycle. Perhaps these recollections are delusions of grandeur. Let's hope not. Working the reverse psychology here: RARRR INSANE FAST CRAZY PACE. BLISTERING ATTACK AFTER BLISTERING ATTACK. PARIS ROUBAIX PART DEUX. No plans to make it for breakfast (food is for mortals.) Foster City route. Speed limits upheld. None of this soccer-mom-dodging BS on Edgewater Blvd. Fixies and singlespeeds encouraged.