Apart from crashes, or getting hit by a bobtail truck running a stopsign, I recall two specific unpleasantries, about 3 months apart.
In the middle 70's I lived in Sunnyvale CA and rode my old, exchange-student-provided, early 60's Gitane (still) everywhere, work, school (2 different colleges) and one ride I made twice a week was after work I'd sprint to Santa Clara Kaiser for allergy shots (anyone remember those?) Well, one afternoon I was in a hurry and didn't sit and wait 20-30 minutes after getting the injections in each arm. I usually dragged the bike into the clinic lobby with me and always got nasty looks from one of the older nurses .... so I wanted to get out of there and go drink imported beer or something befitting a 20-year-old with a unique full-campi bike. Oddly, a few miles out I started feeling sluggish, apparently a severe reaction (the doc told me later) to the antihistamines injected visciously into my body) and slowly, seemingly like the slow-motion footage of a movie, my body seems to just tighten up, to the point where eventually I fell over sideways, Arte Johnson style (very interesting!) With no bystanders showing interest, I laid there for prolly 15-20 minutes until I could move, got on the bike, and went home
2) The Gitane had a hi-e front wheel, 28 radial spokes, quite tweak back then and quite a deal at the price (I thought) from the (dare I say) mailorder supplier (probably a velonews advertiser.)
I was on the old Earthquake century, somewhere between hollister and above Tres Pinos, when I hit a summit and faced a descent of road which had been freshly chip-sealed with pea gravel the size of small marbles...too late, about a 5-6 mile descent, and fast.....PRANG ... a spoke popped.....a few moments later....SPRANG....a second, and the brakes were already hot (that part of CA in late spring/early summer could get VERY hot....it was like 100 out) ....when the third spoke went the wheel lost its true AND the tire started to do that funny thing they do when the glue is hot and just before they roll off the rim...I'd started using tubasti because it cleaned up nicer....never EVER again!!!!! I was sure I'd die, but miraculously I reached a flat, and there was a sag there with a spoke wrench for me...I judiciously straightened the wheel and spun my way in to finish in a low gear...I stll have the patch and wheneverr I come across it I remember what truly, was the most unpleasant descent I have ever experienced.
Dale Phelps, Longmont CO
Bianca Pratorius <biankita@earthlink.net> wrote: Last friday was a really good bike riding day for me. I had been on the trainer once that week and I had done all my assistance exercises, and met early with my usual buds, who have long since making fun of my "old" bikes. Being older, taking a turn at the front at 27.5 mph on the flats seemed almost impossible even a few months ago, and add to this, that I don't have tons of time to train as some do. On this day, I took my turn at front, led out in sprints, and bridge climbs and felt that I was hitting a good stride for me. Not one day later, and I saw myself coming down with a horrible intestinal flu, I fell on my tailbone while attempting to mow the yard, and tore a large blister in my hand while stupidly working with a chisel without leather gloves. This week I didn't ride, but instead wasted away, moaned a lot and wondered if I would ever have the strength to ride again (it was one of those flues).
I was reminded of the most unpleasant rides I have ever taken, mostly because having the flu gives you lots of time to think. I remembered a cold season in San Francisco and the number of times I was caught riding home to Mt. Sutro in the rain. The one that stood out in my mind comes back to me as torrential rain and a 20 minute ride home cutting north through the park, and how it felt that nothing could ever be more unpleasant than to be soaking wet, cold and sick from repeated exposures like this, and cringing at the thought of how all this rain was hurting my brand new 1981 beautiful brown Fuji. Another ride recalled 1972, and my half hour trip on the unlit roads of Woodstock N.Y. to Bearsville, and me with only a dying army flashlight clipped to my bars, feeling that I was flying, with no visual of either the bushes to the side of me, nor the blacktop below. In a moonless night, I had only the rush of adrenaline and the keen senses of a teenager to accompany me.
What was your most unpleasant ride memory?
Garth Libre in Miami Fl.
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Dale B. Phelps, 303 939 6967 303 208 8664 pager
"Never be afraid to try something new. The Ark
was designed by amateurs. The Titanic was
designed by professionals." - R. Buckminister Fuller
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