amphichon

On most Sunday mornings I do this ride from my house, to downtown, south to the Sellwood bridge and across, picking up the Springwater Corridor trail going north and then the riverside path up to the Steel Bridge, back across to the west riverside path, back down to the fountain at Taylor and then back uptown (slogging uphill all the way). Here’s what it looks like, for those curious and for you wacky stalkers who’ve been dying to figure out where I live. (For reference I’m the guy on the red Trek Pilot who more often than not ends up walking his bike uphill at the end of his rides.) It’s not a very challenging ride, only about 14 miles all told, but it’s a nice combination of scenic ride and morning workout.

This morning I found myself close to the halfway point – I was just getting ready to attack the Sellwood Bridge from the west side, had just walked my bike up that twisty switchback in the path and was heading for the sidewalk, when I noticed the bike wasn’t rolling well. And thinking back I realized that it had seemed awfully tough going, in my leg south from Taylor to this point. So I upend the thing, give the rear wheel a spin, and sure enough, I get a couple of weak revolutions and then – stop. Ouch. Clearly something’s wrong.

Usual suspect is the brakes, of course. So I check – nope, the calipers are clearing on both sides just fine. Maybe the derailleur? Nope, the chain’s a bit dirty but it’s rolling just fine, and I take the time to dirty my hands all up by pulling the chain off completely and verifying that, nope, it’s still getting hung up on something even with no chain. (Note to self – clean and lube that chain someday soon.) Hrm. Running out of options here. I pop the quick-release mechanism, wiggle the wheel around, pop it back on. I look thoughtfully at it as a handful of cyclists pass. One Spanish gentleman stops helpfully but (not wanting to be embarrassed and sure I’ll figure this out shortly) I thank him but wave him on. At this point all I can think is that maybe there’s a bad bearing in the hub, but usually you can hear that kind of thing, and this just sounds and feels like something rubbing. I fish my cell phone out and start calling the Bike Gallery downtown, hoping that I’ll get one of the friendly guys with a few minutes to spare who might have an idea or two, and I’m idly turning the wheel as I dial, wondering about that rubbing noise.

And it’s about at this point that I notice that the bracket that holds the Kryptonite U-lock on my frame has slipped and the back edge of the lock is – you guessed it – rubbing against the rear wheel. Sure enough, once I move the bracket back into place, and get the damn lock away from the wheel, all is well. (I see that I’ve dug a nice little groove through the rubber sleeve of the lock, which matches nicely the groove I dug through it last time I pulled this stunt.) I sheepishly flip the bike back over, surreptitiously checking to see if anyone noticed this bit of stupidity, hop back on the thing and get back to my ride.

I know what you’re thinking – H, you’re riding an awfully light bike, and you’re on an exercise run, probably not planning to stop anywhere for any appreciable length of time – why on earth are you lugging around this Kryptonite lock in the first place? And you make a good point. It’s only force of habit I suppose. I keep it with me just in case. But this tears it – no more packing the Kryptonite on my Sunday morning ride. Not only is it a waste of weight, it never seems to stay where it’s supposed to.

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