An odd contradiction

Early this morning, I cast my mind back over the weekend and realized that it was fairly full of bike stuff, even though I hardly rode at all.

On Friday evening, while I was waiting for the wife to return from a work trip, I spent several hours in the shop. And at least one or two of those hours were more than usually productive.

I used most of the time to make some progress on the Trek 613 build. And by progress, I mean messing around with the front rack and not getting it fitted, after which I messed around with the fenders and didn’t get them fitted either. But it does now have the right stem, handlebar, seatpost, and saddle, as well as a functioning set of brakes. With a crankset, chain, and pedals, it will be rideable in the most minimal sort of way.

I have yet to decide whether I’m going to go fenderless and stick with the 33.3mm Jack Browns or size down to 28mm tires + fenders. And I also have yet to decide whether I’ll use a small front rack (for the Acorn Boxy Rando) or a porteur rack (for the as-yet-unused ILE porteur bag) — and yes, I have a thing for bags.

On Saturday afternoon, Michael and I staffed a checkpoint for the local, all-female Alleycat: Madtown Maidens. It’s organized by one of the members of our riding group. And, it just seems like a good idea to stand around talking about bikes and the rest of the world while a series of female cyclists ride up to us. There were also cookies, coffee, and a ticket for a free piece of pie. We were, after all, at the Hubbard Ave. Diner. Afterward, beer and pizza. All good.

On Sunday morning, we tried to ride — though both Michael and I are on the injured reserve. We curtailed the original route from something over 60 miles to something around 20 and set off. Raindrops started falling just as we rolled away from the Ironworks Cafe, and by the time we’d ridden 5-6 miles, things were looking pretty bad. After waiting out a couple of the more violent squalls in park shelter, we retreated to a family-type restaurant nearby. There we found coffee and a fireplace surrounded by couches, which we immediately took over.

Lemberger worships the fire

After more than an hour of waiting, talking, and checking the radar on my iPhone, we found enough of a break in the weather to head out. After a jaunt through the Arboretum and down the SW Commuter Path, we made it home just in time for more rain and thunder. All in all, it took about 4 hours to ride 22 miles — but then we were stopped for most of the time and moving pretty slowly when we weren’t.

And it was all good.

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